I decided to get up early this morning and drive to a job that was underway in a county that was one of the most distant in my inspection area. I made an extra cup of coffee for the road and took off. Some good quiet time in my truck with the sun just starting to rise. I entered the address in my GPS but I knew where to go except for the last couple of turns. I could relax with the radio and plan my lecture for a crew that was struggling to get things right. I’ve never been a big “on paper” planner, but I mentally lay every scenario out, sometimes to a fault.
With only a few miles left to my destination I get a phone call from the crew leader. This could not be good.
“We have to go to another job a few counties away to fix a roof leak from last night’s heavy rain” the worker says. “I guess I should have called you earlier, huh?”
Yeah, that would have been a great idea I think, but I don’t say anything. He was probably telling the truth, but it was awfully convenient for them to have other last minute plans. I know he was anticipating what I was planning to tell him, and he was just delaying the inevitable. Staying home from school on the day of the big test.
“That’s ok” I offer, doing my best not to accuse him of anything “Are there any contractors at the job?”
He said that the heating and air guys were there and gave me the homeowner’s name. I rarely go alone for safety reasons, but I was almost there and quite frankly needed this home for my monthly numbers. Well at least now I wouldn’t have a confrontation with the crew, I just needed to think of what I would say to the homeowner about my surprise visit. A visit from “the state man”.
As I pulled in the driveway I saw the HVAC guys working on some ducts in the carport. I had never met this group, so I got a couple of cards out to validate my introduction. After rustling for a few nonexistent items in my truck, I opened the door and walked to the house. The two very young guys were hard at work and barely looked up as I approached. Since when did they let fifth graders install air conditioning I wonder? I said good morning, but their smiles disappeared when they realized who I was. I’ve spent most of my life on their end of the job, so I am all too familiar with the look on their faces. I do my best to minimize their dread. I ask them a few simple questions just to be a fellow human, then head inside to talk to the homeowner.
I walk in to a very dark home, a television blasting in some distant room. I don’t think I will surprise anybody because the workers are coming and going from the carport to the attic, but I make more noise than necessary just in case. The TV noise seems to be coming from a room down the hall, but I need my flashlight to insure that I don’t stumble over anything in the hall. When I reach the doorway I see a man lying on the sofa, the crook of his elbow covering his face. Before I realize what I’ve done, I’ve shone the beam of the flashlight right in his face. He quickly sits upright and struggles to stand. Judging from the wild look in his eyes, I’ve scared him.
“How you doing?” I ask, trying to calm his nerves. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
The man just stood there and stared at the hand I had shoved in his direction. He was caught somewhere between the TV, his dreams and the beam of the flashlight, and for a second I imagine he thought it was the microphone that the host of The Price Is Right was pointing at the giggling contestants. Or worse, the police asking him to step out of the car. I hate when that happens, but I don’t know how I could have done it any differently. He finally accepts my handshake as I attempt to explain my presence.
“Just taking a look around” I say, as his eyes leave mine and scan the darkened room. “No reason in particular I’m at your house, just looking at some jobs and yours came up.”
I move through the house, and he hesitantly follows me. I continue to make small talk about the weather and the work done, but all he really wants is for me to leave. Am I going to ask him questions about the application he filled out to get the work done? Will he remember the answers he chose to write down six months ago? Am I going to look in the medicine cabinet or count the beers in the refrigerator? All of these questions and more flash through his mind as he grabs a towel and wipes the kitchen counter.
We all have these emotions. When you hand your driver’s license to the policeman that pulls you over, of course you are nervous, even when you’ve done nothing wrong. But we also have them when we do something as simple as showing ID while writing a check or using a credit card. Calling in sick to work requires the use of a strained voice that has little to do with the ailment. It feels like you are asking for a favor; begging. Being validated by another before you get what you want; what you deserve. We would all do well to recognize this situation and try to put others at ease. When you reach a point where you enjoy “being the man”, you are headed for disaster, we all answer to somebody.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Vote
I will have to start this blog with an admission. I like to listen to talk radio. I still like music and play around on Youtube on a regular basis, but when I’m driving I like conversation. It can be sports, NPR or political talk; it doesn’t matter. I don’t remember exactly when this happened, but I think it was somewhere around the time that I had to start cutting long hairs from my eyebrows. It really doesn’t matter if I agree with what is being said, I just like to hear people voice their opinions. Kindred souls; I have been known to be opinionated myself.
I was in Macon one morning earlier in the week and I was listening to AM 940. Their early morning show is mainly about local issues, and while most of that doesn’t apply to me, I find it interesting. This particular show was dedicated to the mayoral race. It was the day after the election and they were taking calls from local people that wanted to weigh in on the outcome. Many of the callers told of how they had to find a ride to the polls because they had no car and one lady had to get a ride because a tree had fallen on her vehicle. This was amazing when you consider that 74% of the population of Macon did not vote at all! Three out of four citizens didn’t even bother.
The hosts, and some of the callers, were really down on black residents for not voting. I know they have been voting the least amount of time, but it really hasn’t been that long for women either. Some of the singling out seems unfair because if you really think about it, it hasn’t been that long for any of us. We crossed the ocean to get rid of kings and queens so we could vote for our own government, and now only a couple of hundred years later we hardly participate. One out of four citizens voting is inexcusable.
Most of the calls were pretty much the same until one man called in to explain why it was alright not to vote. He explained that he liked none of the candidates and that none of them had a viable plan for running the city. The hosts tried to empress upon him that he had to pick the best of the worst and vote anyway. He wouldn’t listen. He continued with his argument that he hated all of them and didn’t want to give them the honor of his vote. This is probably one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. Surely this man does not believe that if nobody shows up to vote nobody wins! There will be a winner, and if you don’t like it you have only yourself to blame.
I was in Macon one morning earlier in the week and I was listening to AM 940. Their early morning show is mainly about local issues, and while most of that doesn’t apply to me, I find it interesting. This particular show was dedicated to the mayoral race. It was the day after the election and they were taking calls from local people that wanted to weigh in on the outcome. Many of the callers told of how they had to find a ride to the polls because they had no car and one lady had to get a ride because a tree had fallen on her vehicle. This was amazing when you consider that 74% of the population of Macon did not vote at all! Three out of four citizens didn’t even bother.
The hosts, and some of the callers, were really down on black residents for not voting. I know they have been voting the least amount of time, but it really hasn’t been that long for women either. Some of the singling out seems unfair because if you really think about it, it hasn’t been that long for any of us. We crossed the ocean to get rid of kings and queens so we could vote for our own government, and now only a couple of hundred years later we hardly participate. One out of four citizens voting is inexcusable.
Most of the calls were pretty much the same until one man called in to explain why it was alright not to vote. He explained that he liked none of the candidates and that none of them had a viable plan for running the city. The hosts tried to empress upon him that he had to pick the best of the worst and vote anyway. He wouldn’t listen. He continued with his argument that he hated all of them and didn’t want to give them the honor of his vote. This is probably one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. Surely this man does not believe that if nobody shows up to vote nobody wins! There will be a winner, and if you don’t like it you have only yourself to blame.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Everything changes
I read a post on Facebook a few weeks back that, for some reason, has really stuck in my head. It was a short bio about a young man that died at the age of 26. It was written by his older brother and accompanied by a short video. None of the footage was taken any later than 1994 because that was the year of his death. I knew both of the brothers while I was growing up but had lost touch with both of them as we got older. The brother has now been gone for 17 years.
In one part of the video the young man is carrying a microwave oven through the house. It was Christmastime and the oven appeared to be a gift. It is one of those parts of a video that is annoying when someone is taking it of you because at the time, it seems meaningless. It is now priceless. The young man has a big smile on his face, glad to have received a gift of the latest technology. The writer mentions that his brother never sent an email or even had a pager. He missed the computer age. We changed that much in only 17 years.
We have all lost loved ones, this is inevitable fact of our lives. If you live long enough, your friends and loved ones will die. Some deaths hurt worse than others, and it seems extra painful when the one who dies is too young. But they all hurt. You start with unimaginable grief that slowly changes to reflection. From how will I go on, to what if he was…wouldn’t she have loved to….this makes me think of…..But this can be a slow process.
I’m not really sure when this happened to me. My little brother has been gone for over 8 years now, and no it does not hurt the same way it used to. It is different. My wife and I talk about him daily at home, but it is no longer my first reaction to pick up the phone and call him when something good or bad happens; that is not when I think of him. I think of him when I pay my cell phone bill; he had one before anybody I know. I think of him when I say something mean to another person; he always told me it wasn’t cool. I think of him when I pet my dog; he loved his dog more than life.
Writing this makes me sad, but thinking of him daily does not. I miss him and I would love to call him up and say, “can you believe I just….”. I don’t think (and I hope) this never goes away. I like to think when I have these thoughts he is hearing me; we are communicating. What has really changed since time has passed is that I can once again say I love to think about him.
In one part of the video the young man is carrying a microwave oven through the house. It was Christmastime and the oven appeared to be a gift. It is one of those parts of a video that is annoying when someone is taking it of you because at the time, it seems meaningless. It is now priceless. The young man has a big smile on his face, glad to have received a gift of the latest technology. The writer mentions that his brother never sent an email or even had a pager. He missed the computer age. We changed that much in only 17 years.
We have all lost loved ones, this is inevitable fact of our lives. If you live long enough, your friends and loved ones will die. Some deaths hurt worse than others, and it seems extra painful when the one who dies is too young. But they all hurt. You start with unimaginable grief that slowly changes to reflection. From how will I go on, to what if he was…wouldn’t she have loved to….this makes me think of…..But this can be a slow process.
I’m not really sure when this happened to me. My little brother has been gone for over 8 years now, and no it does not hurt the same way it used to. It is different. My wife and I talk about him daily at home, but it is no longer my first reaction to pick up the phone and call him when something good or bad happens; that is not when I think of him. I think of him when I pay my cell phone bill; he had one before anybody I know. I think of him when I say something mean to another person; he always told me it wasn’t cool. I think of him when I pet my dog; he loved his dog more than life.
Writing this makes me sad, but thinking of him daily does not. I miss him and I would love to call him up and say, “can you believe I just….”. I don’t think (and I hope) this never goes away. I like to think when I have these thoughts he is hearing me; we are communicating. What has really changed since time has passed is that I can once again say I love to think about him.
Unemployed
In March of 2012 I will be unemployed. This seemed like forever a year ago, but some days it seems like it’s in a few weeks. That’s right, I have a stimulus job. I’m a recipient of the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act, also known as ARRA. A two year grant written by The University of Georgia was written to fund this job, and I monitor the work done by the Weatherization Program in Georgia. I inspect a nineteen county area covered by two action agencies that perform the actual work. There are twenty or so monitors that cover the entire state, but we only see each other at trainings. We will all be unemployed very soon.
I did not vote for the administration that put this program in place. This is the truth. As much as I have enjoyed this job, I won’t vote for this administration when it is time for re-election. Would it save my job if I did? I doubt it, but I wouldn’t vote for them anyway. The program needs to run its course like any true contract; it must have a beginning date and an ending date. Make way in the line at the labor department? Nah, I can always go back to real estate or some of the other businesses I’ve had before. I hope to do some private energy auditing and testing as well, but the paying public’s response to this has been slow. I should be ready for a new venture because this job was meant to be a “breather” anyway.
But right in the middle of my working vacation I learned a new way to look at construction and energy consumption. Actually the only time I thought of energy consumption was when I wrote my monthly check to Georgia Power, but I thought of construction all the time. I learned that good enough can cost you a lot of money in the long run. I learned what insulation actually does and does not do. I learned how to build an energy efficient home for basically the same price as an energy hog. I learned a lot, but I mainly learned to think about energy…period. Now I want to spread the word!
I will admit that my eyes glaze over when people talk about polar bears and ice caps; things that I can’t see. Things that really don’t seem to apply in middle Georgia. They glazed before this job, and hundreds of hours of training later, they still do. I know they are real, but I there is just too much other stuff to think about. It’s kind of like watching tornado victims out west. You feel terrible, but in a long distance (reduced) sort of way. This is human nature; you can only stand so much.
So my job will end. It needs to end. The Weatherization program will basically end too. The government is not a giant bank that finances our every need. But whether you agree with the program (or the administration that put it in motion) or not, you should take advantage of what it has done. You should capitalize on the knowledge your tax dollars have paid for. I won’t go into great detail about the living conditions I have witnessed in the last year, but I will say that you can only imagine. But the work done on these homes is only half of the program. Yes it is the half that most people think of when they think of government waste and corruption, but it is accompanied by another part that is often not thought of. The other half created jobs. The people that took these jobs are now some of the most highly trained in energy usage in the country.
We, as tax payers, must take advantage of this knowledge. Do not let your tax dollars go to waste. What would you do with a few extra dollars a month? Extra money that is really yours anyway; money that you just give to utility companies. Even if you disagree with the current administration’s stance on renewable energy, windmills and solar power, you have to agree that saving money is a good thing.
I did not vote for the administration that put this program in place. This is the truth. As much as I have enjoyed this job, I won’t vote for this administration when it is time for re-election. Would it save my job if I did? I doubt it, but I wouldn’t vote for them anyway. The program needs to run its course like any true contract; it must have a beginning date and an ending date. Make way in the line at the labor department? Nah, I can always go back to real estate or some of the other businesses I’ve had before. I hope to do some private energy auditing and testing as well, but the paying public’s response to this has been slow. I should be ready for a new venture because this job was meant to be a “breather” anyway.
But right in the middle of my working vacation I learned a new way to look at construction and energy consumption. Actually the only time I thought of energy consumption was when I wrote my monthly check to Georgia Power, but I thought of construction all the time. I learned that good enough can cost you a lot of money in the long run. I learned what insulation actually does and does not do. I learned how to build an energy efficient home for basically the same price as an energy hog. I learned a lot, but I mainly learned to think about energy…period. Now I want to spread the word!
I will admit that my eyes glaze over when people talk about polar bears and ice caps; things that I can’t see. Things that really don’t seem to apply in middle Georgia. They glazed before this job, and hundreds of hours of training later, they still do. I know they are real, but I there is just too much other stuff to think about. It’s kind of like watching tornado victims out west. You feel terrible, but in a long distance (reduced) sort of way. This is human nature; you can only stand so much.
So my job will end. It needs to end. The Weatherization program will basically end too. The government is not a giant bank that finances our every need. But whether you agree with the program (or the administration that put it in motion) or not, you should take advantage of what it has done. You should capitalize on the knowledge your tax dollars have paid for. I won’t go into great detail about the living conditions I have witnessed in the last year, but I will say that you can only imagine. But the work done on these homes is only half of the program. Yes it is the half that most people think of when they think of government waste and corruption, but it is accompanied by another part that is often not thought of. The other half created jobs. The people that took these jobs are now some of the most highly trained in energy usage in the country.
We, as tax payers, must take advantage of this knowledge. Do not let your tax dollars go to waste. What would you do with a few extra dollars a month? Extra money that is really yours anyway; money that you just give to utility companies. Even if you disagree with the current administration’s stance on renewable energy, windmills and solar power, you have to agree that saving money is a good thing.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Life is like a bowl of...birdseed.
After two weeks of out of town class I finally have a day off. It is a weekday, so I will enjoy the first half of this day alone. No alarm clock, no roommate and no study material, a legitimate day off. I’m the last one out of the bed so the coffee has cooled and needs to be reheated before heading to the porch for a little bird watching. The birds woke up with the sun, and they are hard at it already. I am late.
I dust off the cushion in the rocking chair and sit my steaming coffee on the table beside it. The cat uses the chair every morning, so I have to ignore a nest of hair that won’t brush away and sit down. The birds momentarily scatter as I disrupt their morning routine. A grizzly with a cup of coffee; a mountain lion with no tail; a kid with a bb gun. I could be any of these and the birds take no chances. They watch me for a few minutes perched on the limbs of nearby trees before hunger and routine lures them back to the feeder.
The House finches are the first ones back. They come in waves of safety; strength in numbers that will allow only the most unlucky to be singled out. They fuss, peck each other, and enjoy the welfare that has allowed them to raise a family in my yard. Delighted that the trough is full, the teenagers compare eating skills. A tiny nuthatch swoops in between the crowd and stakes his claim. He grips the wire basket upside down and extracts a single sunflower seed with the precision of a surgeon. He quickly exits before the mob can react; the finches close ranks.
The show continues to play out as the different species arrive for their breakfast. The larger birds, making the smaller ones retreat momentarily to the woods line, seem to notice me more. Larger eyes I think. I move only to sip my coffee. The chickadee makes up for his lack of size with his constant chattering. I wonder if he is announcing his claim to the feeder or praising me for it’s content. He spends the day relocating as much of it as he can; hiding it for later use. Enjoying the warmth while planning for the cold; banking the proceeds.
The hummingbirds seem to notice nothing but each other. They dart like dragonflies while buzzing like bumblebees. Showing off their dazzling flying skills to their slower cousins who seem not to care. The cousins that use their wings as simply tools for the collection of food. Cousins that have never been out of the country. Locals embarrassed by the brilliant world travelers that enjoy meals from a private feeder. Guests.
A storm carrying an inch and a half of rain passed through last night making the morning air feel like a tropical cloud. A respite from the 100 degree heat that has been the norm of late; relief. An event that makes a declaration of the season; summer. A reminder to the chickadee that it is collection season. A note to the hummingbird that a long flight is eminent. A message I understand as well. That this day is simply a day that I have flown from the feeder to the limb of a near by tree. I will enjoy the rest for a short time until hunger and routine bring me back to the feeder.
I dust off the cushion in the rocking chair and sit my steaming coffee on the table beside it. The cat uses the chair every morning, so I have to ignore a nest of hair that won’t brush away and sit down. The birds momentarily scatter as I disrupt their morning routine. A grizzly with a cup of coffee; a mountain lion with no tail; a kid with a bb gun. I could be any of these and the birds take no chances. They watch me for a few minutes perched on the limbs of nearby trees before hunger and routine lures them back to the feeder.
The House finches are the first ones back. They come in waves of safety; strength in numbers that will allow only the most unlucky to be singled out. They fuss, peck each other, and enjoy the welfare that has allowed them to raise a family in my yard. Delighted that the trough is full, the teenagers compare eating skills. A tiny nuthatch swoops in between the crowd and stakes his claim. He grips the wire basket upside down and extracts a single sunflower seed with the precision of a surgeon. He quickly exits before the mob can react; the finches close ranks.
The show continues to play out as the different species arrive for their breakfast. The larger birds, making the smaller ones retreat momentarily to the woods line, seem to notice me more. Larger eyes I think. I move only to sip my coffee. The chickadee makes up for his lack of size with his constant chattering. I wonder if he is announcing his claim to the feeder or praising me for it’s content. He spends the day relocating as much of it as he can; hiding it for later use. Enjoying the warmth while planning for the cold; banking the proceeds.
The hummingbirds seem to notice nothing but each other. They dart like dragonflies while buzzing like bumblebees. Showing off their dazzling flying skills to their slower cousins who seem not to care. The cousins that use their wings as simply tools for the collection of food. Cousins that have never been out of the country. Locals embarrassed by the brilliant world travelers that enjoy meals from a private feeder. Guests.
A storm carrying an inch and a half of rain passed through last night making the morning air feel like a tropical cloud. A respite from the 100 degree heat that has been the norm of late; relief. An event that makes a declaration of the season; summer. A reminder to the chickadee that it is collection season. A note to the hummingbird that a long flight is eminent. A message I understand as well. That this day is simply a day that I have flown from the feeder to the limb of a near by tree. I will enjoy the rest for a short time until hunger and routine bring me back to the feeder.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Ten Guilty Men
The jury is in and the verdict is stunning. Stunning because we have all watched the trial on television; we were there! Not guilty! That's not possible. Everyone is tweeting and posting and positive that an injustice was done. "Just look at her", I've heard several times, "I can tell she's guilty by the look on her face". Must be nice, I have a hard time knowing when my daughter is telling the truth and I've know her for 14 years and talk to her in person daily.
I don't pretend to know if the defendant is guilty or innocent. She sure as hell looked guilty on TV, but I watch other fictional crime shows and try to solve them too. I'm right sometimes and wrong others, it's part of the game. The media gave the score every afternoon so you could know just how well your team did that day. But it's a long series, so there is room for error on either side. Once again it comes down to game 7! I imagine the vendors outside made quite a lot of money.
But anyway you look at it a terrible tragedy occured. A small child's life was snuffed out before it had a chance to really begin. There is not a verdict available that can change that. She's dead. It may be over for the defendant, but it still goes on for the state. After the public outrage of "letting a guilty person walk" dies down, there is still a case to solve. Work to be done.
When I was a kid I wanted to be a lawyer. I could "talk the horns off a billy goat" so it just seemed like the logical step. I could give hundreds of reasons why I never made it, but just plain laziness is the most likely answer. Too much work. Too long to wait. Not enough money to finish, take your pick. But I do believe in our judicial system. Ten guilty men walking the street is worse than one innocent man in jail. I believe this wholeheartedly and think everyone would if wrongly accused. Innocent until proven guilty is easier than it sounds though, it's human nature to think with your gut. Instinct. Hear what you want to hear. Hear what you need to hear.
I challenge everyone that has doubts about our system to take part in it. When that jury duty summons arrives in the mail, don't look for ways to get out of serving. None of us can afford to go, but none of us can afford not to. A jury of your piers. Be a pier. Go with a smile on your face and tell the truth. Be the person that you would hope is seated on your (god forbid) jury. It is much different than you think. Deciding another human being's fate looks easy on TV. It is not.
I feel for the jurors tonight as much as I do anyone. They will be second guessed and called idiots until the cameras are pointed at another high profile crime. You will forget them, but they will never forget what they have heard and seen. Haunted by the binding legal decision they were charged to make...then live with. The life of another in their hands. If you give someone a job, trust them to do it. If you want to bitch...vote. If you want to be a judge...be a juror.
I don't pretend to know if the defendant is guilty or innocent. She sure as hell looked guilty on TV, but I watch other fictional crime shows and try to solve them too. I'm right sometimes and wrong others, it's part of the game. The media gave the score every afternoon so you could know just how well your team did that day. But it's a long series, so there is room for error on either side. Once again it comes down to game 7! I imagine the vendors outside made quite a lot of money.
But anyway you look at it a terrible tragedy occured. A small child's life was snuffed out before it had a chance to really begin. There is not a verdict available that can change that. She's dead. It may be over for the defendant, but it still goes on for the state. After the public outrage of "letting a guilty person walk" dies down, there is still a case to solve. Work to be done.
When I was a kid I wanted to be a lawyer. I could "talk the horns off a billy goat" so it just seemed like the logical step. I could give hundreds of reasons why I never made it, but just plain laziness is the most likely answer. Too much work. Too long to wait. Not enough money to finish, take your pick. But I do believe in our judicial system. Ten guilty men walking the street is worse than one innocent man in jail. I believe this wholeheartedly and think everyone would if wrongly accused. Innocent until proven guilty is easier than it sounds though, it's human nature to think with your gut. Instinct. Hear what you want to hear. Hear what you need to hear.
I challenge everyone that has doubts about our system to take part in it. When that jury duty summons arrives in the mail, don't look for ways to get out of serving. None of us can afford to go, but none of us can afford not to. A jury of your piers. Be a pier. Go with a smile on your face and tell the truth. Be the person that you would hope is seated on your (god forbid) jury. It is much different than you think. Deciding another human being's fate looks easy on TV. It is not.
I feel for the jurors tonight as much as I do anyone. They will be second guessed and called idiots until the cameras are pointed at another high profile crime. You will forget them, but they will never forget what they have heard and seen. Haunted by the binding legal decision they were charged to make...then live with. The life of another in their hands. If you give someone a job, trust them to do it. If you want to bitch...vote. If you want to be a judge...be a juror.
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