Felicia Monrovia Liberia

As we neared the 2014 mid-term elections and the ebola scare was all over the news I met Felecia. I did not touch her car or her keys. She was not drooling, hacking, or wheezing.

She was mostly on her phone actually. And when she spoke she sounded vaguely Caribbean. Maybe that’s because the service advisor said that’s what he thought.

She had not traveled home recently or even known anyone in Milwaukee to have traveled home during the outbreak.

I was not concerned in the least. I came home, told my wife (just in case) and no one else. 

The elections came and went. Ebola was not eradicated but it’s usefulness as a boogeyman came to an abrupt end for the US political system.

It’s been well over 21 days. I can mention it to you now as I add Liberia to my list. I am now somewhat over fifty countries. The actual country count is somewhere in my notes.

I'll keep you posted.

Variety is all there is

Monica is from Cincinnati and she's been here 25 years. All her family is elsewhere in warm places and so she travels a lot on holidays. She just retired last September after 16 years at Froedtert in the Medicare reporting division.

Before I knew she was going for a ride in the shuttle I saw her alone in the waiting room. I told her how to change the channel if she wished.

"I don't have a television any more.” 

“Congratulations. Maybe you could give a course or something. Some people need help.” 

Apparently she wanted to paint a back bedroom. Her TV was also a VGA monitor for her desktop and it all sat on a large desk. She didn’t really like the desk. She took it apart, set it on the curb and never saw it again. Maybe that’s what happened to the TV. Or maybe she donated it. I forget. She has a laptop and an iPad. Monica does not miss the TV at all. It’s been six months now.

So she retired, changed gears and didn't slow down. She's the co-administrator of the food bank at her church and on Thursdays she stocks shelves at a food bank downtown and … something else. And, she is looking into volunteering at the local NODA chapter. NODA stands for No One Dies Alone. Apparently they coordinate with hospice teams ... no one should die alone.

Her job took her to Chicago for awhile years ago and then called her to Milwaukee. She had certainly heard of Milwaukee before. She drove out of Chicago clean and dry. The weather was fine until she hit the state line. All of a sudden there were 12 inch drifts and she fell in love. It’s been home ever since.

She also is taking Spanish lessons from a Russian born woman whose second language was Polish, her third language was English, and her fourth language is Spanish. Now she's actually teaching Spanish at the Wilson Park Senior center for five dollars a semester.

"Isn’t Wilson Park wonderful?” I asked.

Then I said something about my wife signing up for the upcoming woodworking class.

“Oh, I just took that last fall. My instructor hollered at everyone but me. Apparently I know what I'm doing.”

~~~~~

If it actually hits fifty degrees this balmy weekend of December, Mark is going to put his canoe into the Mukwonago river for a little bit. He's never gone canoeing in December. He's done nine other months and this would be the 10th month so he's kind of looking forward to it.

~~~~~

And Jeffrey had been in architecture since college. He started his own shop about five years ago and is managed to keep himself successfully busy. A lot of people he knows started their own architectural firms after that after the crash because they were pretty much otherwise unemployed. We talked about condos, high-rises, and the Milwaukee sky line.

~~~~~

I so enjoy the people I meet. The old expression is variety is the spice of life. While that may be true variety is also the meat and potatoes, the rice and beans, the peanut butter and jelly,  and the ham and cheese. 

Variety is all there is.

Step away from the latte

He was not the first man from Iran I met in the van. But Reza was in the Iranian Air Force training at Bergstrom Air Base in Austin TX in 1979 when I was there. 

"I did meet some Iranian airmen at a party once at least."

“I was there then."

"Maybe we already met?”

And then the revolution. 

He has plenty of perspective on world politics that he is more than willing to share. Don’t get me wrong - he’s glad to be an American - but he does see that things were different and better here some time ago.

Alyson is in administrative work at an agency helping people with no health insurance. I’m sure there are plenty of stories there. Somehow we started with food. Maybe I was hungry.

We began at soup and the bone broth I started the day before, turned the talk to a morning brew I’ve been tweaking the last couple weeks. I can take coffee or leave it. 

I have also been enjoying Honey Water lately. I’ve read that one should drink lemon water. Or, honey/lemon water. Or apple cider vinegar, or this or that or the other. So, I put them together all on my own. Now, instead of slurping down industrial coffee I have been doing variations on this more often.

This is a recipe of my own device. It’s a place to start.

Heat 4 cups water

1/2 cup honey - stirred into hot water

1/4 c apple cider vinegar

1 T level turmeric*

1 cinnamon stick

Powdered chipotle

Powdered ginger 

(Add several shakes each - use fresh when possible).

Top off with about 3 C water.

Heat a cup or two and add to your individual mug or tumbler

Add lemon to taste 

I mentioned the Penzys catalog and heard her hum. 

"I was reading a page on chai tea once taking note of the spices and wondering what I had and what I needed. A few moments later I had flipped over to the curry page and was looking at those blends spice by spice. I noticed quite an overlap. I actually have the Sweet Curry blend right here right now."

That’s the story. I mixed some spice blend into hot water. Yum. I even emailed the note to Penzys corporate office hoping to get a spot in the catalog. So far - not.

https://www.penzeys.com … Mmmmmm

This is just me and my little fist taking some greater control over my commercial feeding tube. I can think for myself sometimes - at least a little bit. One can educate the taste buds. One can stretch the imagination. 

Put the sugar down.

Step away from the latte. 

…..

*Note: Turmeric does stain and it does not stay long in suspension. Don’t spill. Shake before sipping.

Sister Margaret

I was not given a slip for this woman. We got in the van with Jim we were going to take home first. She was in the front seat. He was in the back. It was a quick trip and we were all quiet for the five minutes until we arrived at his house. I let him out with the customary procedural farewell. And then she and I were off.

“So, good morning.” I said,  "What’s your name?"

"I'm a nun.” she said. “Retired."

"Okay?"

"You know what a nun is?”

“Sure.”

“Well, not everyone does.”

“Well, I do and I am not even Catholic.”

“Oh. Good.”

“So, what is your name?"

“Sister. Margaret.”

“Welcome aboard, Sister Margaret, I said, extending my hand, "You are the first nun I’ve met in this space. I’ve met priests and pastors and you are my very first nun."

A few minutes earlier, before we left, and as I was about to leave with Jim, I asked if she was going to wait or did she need a ride. She asked me if I could take her to Pick and Save so that she could shop for groceries.

“Well, we take people home and to work. We don’t really take people shopping, you know, grocery shopping.”

"Well, if you could drop me off, I’ll walk back.”

It’s 45 degrees - balmy for mid-December - but foggy, therefore humid. It's like a long way for a little old lady carrying groceries. How many groceries could be key to this question, but it’s a mile. One mile.

I did say that, if, and I mean if, I was not called to other missions, when she was done I could pick her up. She’s retired as I said. She does have a cell phone but it is not turned on. Of course. 

She never did call and I did not see her the rest of the day. Her car service was to take about two hours. I did ask her why she couldn’t shop when her car was done. She didn’t have an answer. 

And then I have Warren and Trevor on board. Trevor's younger, Warren’s older and they got to talking about fixing cars and fixing motorcycles and stuff way out of my league. I am so happy sometimes when customers can just run the conversation themselves. Warren invited us to take a look at his Bugatti 900 when pulled up in his driveway. Thanks Warren, maybe some other time is what I thought.

People ask about me and my past and this job and I've always said that how I got here had to do with 'I don't have an education' and 'I was self-employed' therefore 'I can't do one thing all day long’.  It’s me making excuses.

This very morning, for the very first time, I'm thinking I had a hand in the co-creation of this particular gig. This is so custom fit for me it's hard to imagine it existed without my own wishes and intentions. Yes, we could make a graph of the days, step by step, turn by turn, or we could begin to see that we got here (yes, you, too) by designing a dance, a tango perhaps, of fate and freewill.

I no longer insist on maintaining the divide or further widening the gap between I and Thou. If I was created in the image of God, who is the creator, then I am also a creator. What do I get when I diminish myself? And I pretty much don't think that God wants anything from me or for me either way. My God does not want. God is not in the state of wanting.

Further, my God also doesn't exhibit other human emotions. My God isn't angry, my God isn't happy, my God isn't smiling to see me on Sunday morning whether I am in the pew or otherwise engaged. (Even so, when I am singing What a Friend We Have in Jesus, I do get a little misty. Can’t explain it. Don’t care to. I give up.)

I spoke with a gal named Lois today; the same age as my mother, Lois. 

“Not many of us named Lois.”

“Yes, I know. Rare birds."

She used to be a buyer at Bucyrus Erie. In one of the high points of her career she went out to a mine site in New Mexico and actually sat up in the operator seat of piece of equipment that she purchased. She’s not yet been to the Bucyrus Museum. I talked it up a little. I could see a little gleam in her eyes as she remembered the good times.

I was taking her to the nursing home where she had to do some paperwork, as power of attorney, on behalf her sister with dementia. It was some kind of emergency change of residence that seemed to be under control. The last five years have been nothing but trouble for Lois. One big thing after another and she named many of them.

But she keeps it all under control with gratitude. It is her saving grace. And, so we segued into one of my favorite projects; giving thanks by giving thanks, sharing words of praise and seeking those opportunities first rather than gunning for trouble or having to be right.

I gave her a card. She beamed and nodded her head. I gave her a couple more to share. She said she would not be seeing the caregivers at this facility any more after the next few days and she did have people to thank. And she started with me.

When she was done with the paperwork she would walk the mile home. Same day and another old lady walking a mile in the balmy fog.

Tuesday December 9th

I met this guy Dan who's been a nursing home administrator for 40 years. He works at the mental health complex. He was hired to shut down a couple facilities and reintegrate the populations elsewhere. 

His job will be over in a year. The first one is closing within about a week and he's on track with that. Then the next one will be done about a year from now. He thinks maybe he'll retire. Except he doesn't know what to do and can't imagine sitting around.

 We talked a lot about caregiving and the system. I mentioned the surprising number of people I meet that need additional help. I told him I called Interfaith to see if they were offering such services. He told me they were great people doing great work providing many kinds of services that fill in the gap for caregivers. He mentioned the directors name and said that they used to have each other on speed dial.  

He talked about the importance of crystal clear directives and power of attorney. You can get those forms online and have them notarized at the bank. If one is not clear in one’s wishes and the system takes over … well, the system takes over.

And as we were pulling up he’s fishing around to give me a business card. He gets out, puts both feet on the ground, and looks back at me.

"I'm serious," he said, "you can use that number.” 

This morning I met Sujata and she told me how to pronounce the word kitchadi. Well, she didn’t just blurt it out. I asked her.

She looked at me a bit quizzically as if to ask how I know about this dish. 

“That’s not something you can get in an Indian restaurant.” she said. “We only cook it at home. It’s for times we don’t feel well.” It’s comfort food.

I said I read about it online. It’s white rice and moong dal as a base. A easy-to-digest, near-complete protein. 

KITCHadi, sometimes spelled kitchari - with an ‘r’ - and if you can say the ‘d' and the ‘r' together you’ve gotten a lot closer to the pronunciation.

I said I use basmati rice and she said plain white is better; less flavor. It’s kind of strange about the rice flavor when the complicated spices may include ginger, cardamom, cumin and any number of vegetables including onion and perhaps even garlic.

She indicated that one should not believe everything on the internet. Of course. Then I tried to interject my research on Arabian Seven Spice and my finding that every country or region has it’s own recipe. None of them are wrong. Right?

Anyway, at least I can now pronounce basmati rice the Indian way. Accent on first syllable. Basmati.

~~~~~

When we say everything changes we have some understanding about what that means. What I hear by using the word changes, is that there might be some changes in the future. We can look to a time in the past where there have been changes. 

A way that describes the actual activity is this: everything changing. That means ongoing right now. 

Look around. Pay attention. Soon it will be something other.

~~~~~

Not a Toyota commercial

My God how Jim and Judith must hate to have to put up with each other in their new condo since August. 

"We were forty-two years in a house by the airport. There used to be services around there. I got used to it. I had a routine.” Jim says.

It’s complicated now that they are down to one car and decided to go condo out at the edge of the county country. Nothing and nowhere to walk to.

“You like the condo. Don’t you, Jim?”

He’s looking out the window for several silent seconds.

“Jim?”

“Why does it take two days? This is a recall and we’re not paying for it so they are probably putting paying customers before us.”

Jim can't imagine, can not fathom, why they (we, the dealer) had to have the goddamn RAV4 on the hoist for two days to put a seal on. 

He wants to - needs to - vent about car service. I say I don't know anything. They don’t tell me anything. I am out here, with you, away from the shop. I don’t know policy or procedure.

"They probably move cars through as efficiently as possible so that we do not get a back-up of cars.” I say. I forgot to tell him that Toyota pays the dealers something.

“Don’t tell me they’re taking up valuable hoist space with our car for two days.”

"He doesn’t know anything, Jim.” Judith says, “Leave it alone.”

Grunt.

"We’ll be going to Florida for a month with a couple we know that has been going for five years.” Judith says.

“That sounds nice. Warm. You’ll have folks that can show you around.” I say.

Jim just wants to keep on keep on keep on that goddamn seal on his RAV4.

Finally.

“Jim, shut up, he doesn't know anything. He really can't talk down about his employer. 

“Well it's not like he's a lifelong employee. He's going to find another job at some time."

“Jim, why don’t you talk about football or something?”

Silence.

He turns to me and says "How about those Packers last night?"

"Well," I say, "I don't know much about that actually either."

"Jude, oh my God, we got a communist for a shuttle driver."

Well, I told him the 6 point win over the Falcons the night before. I don’t recall if I actually said “So what?” or not, but it was on my breath. 

Fortunately, me and Judith and her chronically cantankerous old coot were just a couple minutes from the goal line. The crowd quieted down. We wondered about punting. We decided to take a time out and go to commercial.

Getting called a communist on the job? Another first for me.

What pleases you

What pleases you? 

It could be a question or it could be a command fragment. It might be other things. Do what pleases you as soon as is possible. For as long as possible. Your brain will love you for it. Your brain and therefore the rest of you, too.

Today is the day after I wrote about Mark, the Marine vet that’s watching over his blind, 94 year old mother, guess who boarded the shuttle? Ruth.

Ruth has been in nursing for 25 years and specializing at the Neurosciences Center at Froedtert Hospital for the last six years. She specializes in caring for people with memory disorders due to stroke and Alzheimer’s. Endlessly fascinating.

Mostly we talked about caregivers not getting enough care on their own and the very wide gap in services specific to having too much in the way of assets in order to get help. You can be poor and get a reasonably fine quality of assistance but if you have a little too much you don't get any help at all. I did tell her about the number of people that I meet who are doing these things and how often this is spoken of in this shuttle space.

Help at Interfaith.

And so she said she has a friend whose husband retired and he was looking for a little something to do and her friend was also going to retire in a year and wondered what to do and Ruth says it is best to do what pleases you; neurologically best.

Do what pleases you as soon as you can. The people that retire early are most at risk for cognitive degeneration. The people who are angry, negative, and pessimistic are at most at risk for brain disorders. The people who are happy and busy and engaged have a better chance of long-term brain health.

I did tell her about Jeanette that I met yesterday; 87, driving, cooking, baking and winning big at bingo. Go Jeanette.

And we’ve all heard it before … but it sounds so much more real coming from a real practitioner in a face-to-face place that is delivered in a non-stressful way. In other words, it’s not too late for me to hear about me … just saying’.

Ruth was telling her friend who is going to retire soon that she met a guy who's been doing things right … or maybe she met somebody from the dealership who's active and retired and has a job and is writing books. Ruth is not quite sure.

"I think that might be me you’re talking about.” I said.

Yes: brain games, puzzles, music, socialization, yoga, but most specifically more general exercise. More for the body. It is not all about the mind.

This ‘do what pleases you' reminds me of the heart/brain specialist at the VA who said that reducing as much stress as possible (naturally) will add to the quality and quantity of your days.

And this also speaks to a recent second favorite book; The Power of Full Engagement by James Loehr. Loehr is a sports psychologist consulting on peak performance.

Hard work? Yes. Play and rest, too? Yes, absolutely. Without the full spectrum of work, play and rest there is no peak performance.

Mind you …let’s not start meditating just because management says it’s good for the minions. And let us not wait for retirement. Let us move toward the joy … now.

Less stress. More fun. On purpose. For you. Yes, you.

Interfaith Milwaukee

I had been telling a few people that they might have some options as care-givers for themselves and their charges. It occurred to me that I should ask about it locally before continuing with that assumption.

I posted a request on the Interfaith Facebook page and got an invitation to call and a thank you for spreading the word.

lnterfaith has a Family Caregiver Support Network that is open to area residents. Whether the person is the person receiving or giving care. Call 414-220-8600 Monday-Friday, 8:30-4:30.

…

InterfaithMilw.org

CaregiverSupportNetwork.org

Living-Options.org

WisconsinCaregiver.org

Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/interfaithmilw

Veterans Day Care Giver

Mark was a marine for quite some time and on disability. His spine is turning into a sponge. Spongio-something. He also must have had some neck fusion surgery because it takes his entire torso to turn his head.

“You know, you just never think these things will turn out that way.” he said.

We talked about his service a little bit. He knows I understand that most folks don’t get it. I told him that I did not serve and yet we were able to find agreements.

And he's the sole caregiver for his mother while living in her house. She is 94 now and blind. I can tell he doesn’t like being away even while his car is in for service.

So I mentioned Dry Hooch on Brady and the vet center cafe in the building up at 35th and Wisconsin, is it? He was aware of it and hopes they stay open. It doesn’t seem like he has a mind to visit them. Maybe someday. He knows he needs to get out and stretch his legs and get away from the situation. He needs a caregiver for himself.

I tell him the story of Bernie and Patty, two people I met in similar situations, just a couple weeks ago. 

He thinks the only care for his mother is $200 a day for people who do everything. I’m talking about him getting his own butt out the door a few times a week. I should actually check it out so I know more about it. 

Later that day a fellow employee asks me if it’s alright if we have a chat some time so that she can get some honest input about a life situation. It doesn’t seem like a situation I have much experience in. Apparently I have the right stuff.

Now if I can just follow through and find out what kinds of services are available in the metro area. I need to speak with greater authority.

Tanzanian Ambassador Mudri

In the 80’s Mr. Mudri’s sister married a guy from Uganda. When Idi Amin, evil ruler of Uganda, was practicing genocide they escaped to America via churches that were taking in refugees. His sister later sponsored his arrival in the States. He’s been here about 30 years.

For a good while he had a grocery store at 12th and Vliet Street. A good while was over the day he was robbed at gunpoint and locked in the walk-in cooler.

He said something about cooking for one and I mentioned the senior centers around the county. His family is now all gone but he has his own community at his mosque.  We had just passed the mosque at 13th and Layton. He is not a member there. They are Sunnis. He is a Shia Muslim. And, he is not one of those Shia Muslims; the ones that famously kill people. He does not understand them either and is sad about the damage they are doing to the good name.

I said I was pretty much a Christian and there are many branches. 

“Are there branches in Islam?” I asked.

“Seventy-three” he said. “The main split is Sunni/Shia but they all have their own schools, branches, and beliefs.

He said 73 so quickly it seemed as though he had just been reading up on it. I don’t doubt him and do not care to count that high myself.

Speaking of counting … I stopped listing the countries after I hit 50. I have them all on my recorder but do not take time as often as I would like. I might be up to 55 by now. Tanzania is a new one on me and Mr. Mudri is a fine ambassador.

I should like to have a coffee with him someday.

House Keys

Keri has been back from LA for two months. She grew up in Milwaukee and had been there 'five winters’, as she put it. She works as a hairdresser and had no problem getting back into the place she’d worked for sixteen years before she left.

We were about to pull up to her place and she realized she’d forgotten her keys in the car. No wonder. She had been waiting because her service was going to be quick enough she could wait - right up until it wasn’t. Better to wait at home. She really wanted this to be her fault and I had to tell three stories about other people forgetting their keys and having to make the extra trip before she could let it go.

"It’s okay. People forget their keys all the time."

I asked her about the west coast water shortage. She said that the folks in LA were in denial. What shortage? Yes, there are ever-increasing fines but the effect is a long way from altering common behaviors. The way people water their lawns is criminal even without a shortage. Stupid wasteful.

While still in LA she rescued a Jack Russell Papillion mutt-puppy that seems to be putting on winter weight here in Milwaukee. He used to get melancholy when it rained and she was concerned that he might not do well here. She says her blood is thickening and she’s put on a couple pounds as well. 

“It doesn’t take long to forget a Wisconsin winter after you’ve moved to warmer climate.” she said.

We talked about hairdressers, bartenders, customers, stories, and psychiatry. She said she runs into quite a few that go over the line into inappropriate sharing. It has happened enough that she knows she will not be seeing this person again. They have shared way too much and they both know it. That does not happen to me in the shuttle.

Otherwise, yes, by the end of the day she, too, has had it up to here with superficial chat about the weather.

I met Daniel Z of natrecstudio.com, a musician that runs a recording studio. We talked about business, general creativity and passion more than music or the music business. He’s worked in NY, LA, Japan for six years before coming back home to set up shop. He’s glad he can make a living doing what he loves.

He’s got tons of vintage gear, current Mac software and would much rather have musicians do their own performance magic rather than him patching it up with digital effects just because he can. 

“Yes, I can fix the pitch of that note,” he says, “but it's not authentic and it so often takes time that doesn’t get billed out." 

I was glad to be able to run out and grab him again after his car was done. When I pulled up at his storefront on National Avenue he was sweeping the sidewalk while waiting for me. Good local citizen.

He had also forgotten his house keys this morning. However, he remembered before I even put it in gear.

Bernie and Patty

I’ve driven Bernie home three times since I’ve been at this job. I could just about tell you his story. He’s funny and intense. There is little actual conversation. He’s giving a high-paced history of his life. His wife of 62 years has had Alzheimer’s for the last 6 years and he has no help at home. I suppose that he has so little interaction with adults that he has all this pent up need spilling out.

He and I left with two other people. He assumes he gets to go first because he has to get back to his wife. This time the logical and obvious  order of our route would let him out second. Even so, he commanded the conversation space the whole way along. As he was getting out in his driveway he did allow that the next time we met he’d let us talk more. 

Later that same day Patty and I are driving along toward her house. I ask her about her hobbies and her spare time. She’s thinking about calling Interfaith to see if she can get someone to come in a few hours, a few times a week so that she feels less guilty shopping and getting the car fixed. Her husband had a stroke a couple years ago. He has trouble with speech and self-care. Their adult son lives in town and comes over a couple times a week.

I think about this a little bit. The best I can. It’s not until I see an episode of Grey’s Anatomy in which they are dealing with characters broken in this way that I get a clearer picture. IT brings me to tears.

The upshot of this exposure is simply another reason to be grateful for whatever wholeness one can muster.

First words

“Come on. Let’s go. Whadd’ya - running for governor?”

First words out of his mouth - I promise.

I’d gone down to the other building to fetch a guy off to Oak Creek. When I walked into the building one of the advisors was walking the customer toward me. I nodded and proceeded right past him eight feet or so to shake the hand of another long-time customer I know; Lee, from church.

“Come on. Let’s go. Whadd’ya - running for governor?”

“No, but if you brought a baby I’d kiss it.” I said, heading back toward the van.

So, the guy, whose name I do not yet know, is overly boisterous and manipulative in that passive aggressive, ‘it’s-just-a-joke’ way. He posed a few questions he knew the answers to so that he could interrupt when I tried to respond. He is used to being in charge. He did say he was a long-time customer and this was his first shuttle ride. He was making the most of it.

“You’re a Christian, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes … and …”  I started with gratitude - being thankful. I gave him a couple versions of my GoodWork Mini-Thanks cards. I talked about goals, motivations, gearing up for the day and finding what you expect to find: in my case, goodness and smiles.

He’s a 30 veteran of MMSD and a veteran of the fist-bump. The ’S’ is for sewer or sanitation.

“I don’t shake hands much.” he said. “You just don’t know where they’ve been.”

He’s also a long-time HS football coach. 

“Not a teacher, just a coach.”

“Well, you still understand kids, mentoring, and modeling behaviors, right?”

“Well, yes …”

Here I had a coach and an opportunity to ask about the rest and recuperation component of high performance. I gave him my standard little dance about one of my favorite books: The Power of Full Engagement, by James Loehr and Tony Schwartz. Amazon link here.

I might have said something like this: In high performance sports the athletes practice for an event or season. Then there is the event or the season. After that there is rest and recuperation. That is the recipe for high performance. Business, of course, does not do that. They whip the flesh from the starched-collars, the cube-jockeys, and general lackeys knowing there’s a line of fresh meat pressing at the front door.

“You’re making my skin tingle.” he said. We seemed to be heading off into his favorite topic: football coaching, but I stayed my course.

He thought maybe I should go into psychology or life coaching. I kid you not.  I took him home and a couple hours later I brought him back. 

“So, what about this life coaching thing?” he asked. “What if I were a drug-addled …. no, that’s too far out. What if …” and he named something else almost as far out.

“Well, as I might have said, I was in business. I refer people. I subcontract work to other providers as necessary. Simple, I think.”

“Of course.”

As we were pulling up he asked for a pen and paper and jotted down the name of the book. He asked if I thought it might be above his reading level. As if I would presume to comment on that.

“Some of it might have been above my level. Here’s how I read a book anymore,” I said, “I am no longer writing book reports and I really don’t need to prove anything to anyone. So, I decided that I do not need to finish a book just because I start it. I realized I am looking for a couple good ideas and a few quotations. I use a blank 3 x 5” card as a bookmark. I write down the page numbers of interesting stuff so that I can keep reading. Later I go back, look up the pages, and if the stuff is still interesting I might write it down in my notes.”

At the end of our ride he was asking for my boss’s name so that he could send along his praise of my behavior. Apparently I passed his audition. Unfortunately I gave him the name of an immediate upline worker that does not retrieve or answer his own voicemails, but now I am smarter about that little point, too.

You know, it all went by so fast I don’t even think I told him about my own books, blogs, or why I read at all.

And, I think this particular interchange has locked it up for me. 

I am goin' to school.

Soon. I have to finish my next book. Deadline: Christmas 2014.

Today. Tuesday.

I did not drive anybody anywhere. Period.

The day was as long as this story is short.

Synchronicity

Monday a gal I was driving opened up to me on something she was finally admitting to herself. She had sought help before on a number of occasions all to no avail. She recommended a book at the library where, in those pages, she found herself. And only recently had located a service provider that made her do some of the heavy lifting. A provider that broke through, made sense, got her; a real connection.

It wasn’t just that there is some overlap at our house. It’s that we had been up to our noses in it two days prior. It used to surprise me more often who jumped into the van and how the story they choose to tell has a direct bearing on some situations or curiosities of my own.

And, as I have come to understand it, I needed to see her that day. I needed her to get into the van and tell me that story. And she did.

Parked at the curb near her work we shared a hug; bonus for the hard work we’d done, a bonding moment for the many lonely moments ahead.

Be Reiki

Rhiana Tehan brought her car in for service Friday morning and I got to drive her to her day job. She’s a motivated creative writing teacher and we hardly spoke of that. She was called to Reiki in 2010, kept her day job, has continued her study, and opened a studio.

The peace and equanimity in the shuttle was palpable; remarkable. I have hardly a trace of memory of our conversation. Tension, strife, war, fear, health, educational philosophies; it all came up and it was all okay. And that fits rather well in a new recipe that I have been stirring up. I’m sure the ingredients are all here somewhere.

I’ll have what she’s having.

http://bereiki.com

Happy America Day, Joe.

Joe came to America on Oct. 1, 1967. That's 47 years for those of you playing along at home. He must have been 25 to 30 years old at that point.

Joe was not the name his mother called him and after 3 light-hearted attempts to call him something else he said, “Joe, I told you to call me Joe.”

Alright then. Of course ‘Joe’. He did seem a little playful for an older fellow, but only on his terms. He also seemed a little angry about the course that America has taken over his tenure.

“Excuse my language, but America is f@#$ed.” he said.

Where do you go from this point with a customer?

“I hear a little something that sounds South African, I said.

“People guess that and Australian and English all the time.”

“And you’re not going to tell me.” I said, after a lengthy pause.

"Maybe if I see you again someday.”

My gut said Rhodesia, but I searched that when I got home. There were a dozen African countries under British rule. It could have been any of them, I guess.

Thankfully, it was a short ride. Happy America Day, Joe.

Framing the day

Framing the day? Even a half day is sometimes too much to put into words. 

The honey locusts seem so bright yellow this fall. Extra bright. I wonder how much the cold dry winter had to do with this. I don’t remember last year. I ask people in the shuttle. Some have not noticed. Some do not know locusts. Some wonder with me as well.

Some predict a colder winter than last. My hope is that we read into the success of the Farmer’s Almanac what we wish to read. They may well be as wrong as the local weather person.

After the morning rush - and there was a rush - I met Mark again. We had had a lovely ride up to Glendale a month ago.

“You know that book about engagement and energy you mentioned?" he asked, as soon as we got into the van.

“Yes.” I said. “One of my favorites."

“It really clicked with me right now. So I’m reading it.” he said. “It’s great.”

“I’m glad you think so. I refer to it all the time in the shuttle and have just now taken it out from the library again to refresh myself. As a matter of fact, his ‘other’ book, The Power of Story, is even better. It’s about what we tell ourselves and how to upgrade that experience.”

“Really? And … how does he say to do that?”

“Well, the first thing is that a person needs to be aware that he is composed of the stories he has latched onto or has been immersed in. And then begin to examine them to discover their relative truthfulness or functionality. And then begin to rewrite their new story with an ear for improved performance.”

“Write their own story?”

"Yep. Journal. Diary. Captain’s log. Whatever you call it - write it down."

When we first met we found plenty to talk about and it was only as we were about to pull into his driveway that we spoke of his professional experience. I really thought I had missed out on something wonderful and I had.

He has been in high-tech start-ups in the energy field. That means fuel cells, hyper-conductivity, separating hydrogen and oxygen, membranes, molecules, pure water … on and on. He’s been ahead of the curve in several instances and sees that we are needing to think outside the fracking box and the sooner the better.

I said I continue to see great things coming from young scientists inventing new technologies and simply hope that we see how to wrest ourselves free from the fossil fuel dominance. He said he also saw hope in the young as evidenced by the interests and behaviors of his nieces and nephews as they grapple with the fast-arriving future.

We touched on several topics that could easily whisk us off in other directions Here's another guy I’d like to have a soup and sandwich with. Hmmm … he gave me his card.

…

My first group of 4 people out in the morning had all ridden with me before and one of them said she was glad it was me again. They all chimed in. Almost embarrassing. Almost.

...

My last customer was the festival choir director at Hales Corners Lutheran Church. Some of the folks from our church sing with their choir. My wife sings with them. He told me to say hello to her. I’ve seen him direct and run a half dozen rehearsals. It’s uplifting to watch him work. I asked him about his music selection process. How does he decide what to do next? It gets simpler when you cut the off-message offerings. Yes, he can hear music in his head by reading the sheet music.

...

Finally, if it had not been for the laborious transaction slogging along in front of me at the Parts Counter at Andrew Toyota I probably would have broken my record of miles driven in a 5.5 hour shift. As it was I hit 135.0 miles at 1 pm exactly on the freeway ramp at Silver Spring southbound. Two miles short of the record. A new second place record by 3 miles. The average miles-per-morning-shift is about 83. I worked an extra hour and ten minutes this day and finished at 162.9 miles. The only other time I drove more on the job in one day was last New Year’s Eve: 187 in 12 hours.

Today was a big day.

...

*The Power of Full Engagement: Managing Energy, Not Time .. by Jim Loehr

http://www.amazon.com/The-Power-Full-Engagement-Performance/dp/0743226755

Survivors all

Duane, a Harley biker in from West Virginia, was getting his Tundra looked at, and visiting a grave. His twenty-something son died a year ago in a freak motorcycle accident at a car dealer lot in the area. Duane was off for a bike ride on a beautiful southern Wisconsin day while waiting for his service to be completed.

Later, separately, I picked up Mr. Harrison at the airport. He was coming back to town from a long weekend in Ohio. He'd been out to see the relatives for the first time in eight years. They all gathered to spread their father's ashes. He was sitting behind me. We really did not make contact in the mirror. We talked about the weather after that. He was going home to mow the lawn before the rain today. 

How do these things come up … and so quickly? It might be easier that way. There is something about being in the space. It is non-managed. It is safe. It is free. Strangers. No eyes. 

Sooner or later, if we're sitting here reading this, we are all survivors.

Thanks, Frank

Frank was the first ever customer/rider that I brought to my back yard.

He runs his own yard maintenance and landscaping service and was willing to take 2 extra minutes out of his day to look at my back yard on his way to pick up his car.

That is how close I live to my place of employment.

Yes, he would have come out for a quote in another time frame. That's the way small business works. I did tell him he could save at least a half hour if he would invest two minutes now.

And, it turns out he's going to give us a referral to another local guy that has more appropriate equipment. His specialty is really stump grinding. There's always cross-over but, in our case we have a hill and that makes it tricky. We also have power lines in the tree tops and that also makes it tricky. And ... potentially fatal.

Maybe we should call the insurance fellow, too.

Anyway, I've had this project on my mind for a bit this summer. The 'hill', as we call it, is out of order. It's gotten away from us. We don't care. Alright, we do care.

One of those things.

But, in this story, another guy I need to talk to hops into the front seat to tell me how things are.

Thanks, Frank.

Robot Integrator

Mike said he’s been interested in robots since he was 15 years old. Looking at him you get the idea that that’s just a little over half his life ago. And he seems about as enthusiastic as he must have been at the very beginning.

He’s since assembled a team of about 8 engineers and designers that provide custom automation systems for manufacturing. He calls himself a robot integrator.

He primarily buys the Japanese brand Fanuc, programs them, and outfits them with tools for the particular custom job. I told him I’d be interested in seeing what they do.

“Do you have a video brochure or Youtube channel as part of your sales and marketing efforts?”

“Well, … no. This is all custom and …”

“Ah, proprietary.”

“Yes. People pay us to keep them ahead of the competition.”

Mostly he’s gotten good enough that business is pretty much word of mouth. He gets a lot of referrals from the tool guys at trade shows. As a matter of fact there is no website attached to his email domain.

Anyway, he presented it all so well that I was quite enthused. He actually invited me by for a tour of the shop.

It’s possible he thought my interest in video meant that I have some expertise in that discipline. 

“Do you do video?”

“No”, I said, "but I know people if you are interested.”

A tour? I can’t imagine why not. He’s right down in Greendale’s Industrial Loop. 

…

The screenshot is a random Fanuc video from Youtube.

Make my day

We got right into software tools and her preferences and since I apparently knew something about something and was willing to engage she took right off. A breath of fresh air. Chelsea is a recent MIAD grad glad to talk about her work at the front end of a promising career. 

She did have a very well-done business card she was happy to share with me and later online I found this Tweet for me:

"Shout out to the sweet shuttle guy at the Toyota center who chatted with me about my illustration work. Made my day!”

Made her day? Made MY day!

It’s not that difficult to raise one another up. Let go of your self for a blessed second. Actually, there is relief for you in that act alone.

ChelseaLinaeve.com
Illustrator and Natural Scientist

Chemistry and connection

Even though he’s a chemist by profession we often talk about marketing, branding, the buying public. Sometimes we get into colors and fonts. Maybe it’s because I’m not a chemist. He has talked to me about batch sizes and production capacity in general ways a couple of times. I’ll bet I could get a tour now that I think of it.

This last time I saw him I was having a very difficult day with the service advisors and their communications with me. There is no central dispatch for my time. There is a core of about six guys that direct my travel schedule. We could easily imagine another four or five people at least that might ask if I can get something or someone for them. Occasionally I have to say “No, get someone else. I’m already committed." I also have to keep in mind the space/time map. The morning driver is the one with the composite picture of the potential afternoon route. 

So, communication; sending and receiving, senders and receivers. Claudio and I talked about gaps and missed signals. He talked about his wife getting upset with him that he does not remember that she told him something. We talked about joint responsibility in effective communication. The sender needs to be clear that the message was received. The receiver needs to acknowledge receipt. Whether there is comprehension or agreement is another layer or step.

Although I have heard him say “You know, David, I think it’s more like …”, Claudio is very much a “Yes, and” communicator. Yes, and .. not necessarily in the improv comedy sense, but in finding the agreement that keeps the lines open and moving.

Claudio usually has some Christian radio or CD running in his car and we might have a chat about that. I’ve been working on this idea for a bit and wanted to run it by him. I can easily leap from the communication of sending and receiving to writers and readers.

That the Bible is actually a divinely inspired work depends on the level of inspiration of the reader. The Bible, all by itself … fill in the blank. Does it not take a reader? A Reader? An inspired Reader?

One can have the biggest body of water backed up by the dam, or the largest solar array imaginable but if it is not tied to the grid, and ported to your door … if you are not plugged in, it doesn’t matter. Senders and receivers. Writers and readers.

“Yes, and ...” he said, “I have something for you."

His company does not buy a lot of swag but he found a little stash and, knowing how much I like caps, brought me one as a present. And then, as we were stopping right outside the service door, he pulled a copy of my book Drive Time out of his satchel and asked for my autograph. What a guy. That is so sweet.

Real people. What fun.

The slip I was given for Beata said she was going to 108th and Layton. The truth is she was visiting a friend while her car was being serviced and did not know the address. As we are arriving in the general vicinity she does not recognize any landmarks and is getting a bit apologetic. I have time. Not to worry. We’ll get there. The truth is I drove her to S. Foxwood south of Beloit Road at about 123rd St. over a mile and half further on. I am really glad she knew where her friend actually lives.

On the way we had me practice her last name. It took me three times before she was satisfied.

She’s been seven years in America and recently completed some coursework at MATC that allows her to become an intake nurse at a hospital. A first step toward greater things. She is going to need to work on her English if she expects to be hired for an important position like intake.

When I went to pick her up there were a a few people in the front yard including two younger boys - one of them selling lemonade. I bought 50 cents worth from my window seat and gave him a buck. He’s way down in the suburban weeds in the middle of a hot morning. He’s not going to sell much. There’s no one there and no one driving by. He needs a little encouragement.

Anyway, there’s an older guy with Beata that turns out to be her father. She says he only knows a few phrases and so … I test him a bit. Hi. Hello. How are you? I think he knows more than she says.

In my day-to-day life I don’t get to hear much Polish being spoken. I ask her if she can tell me something; a story, a recipe, or a joke. She relays this to him. He laughs a bit. It’s quiet. He’s thinking. Then he gives her the run up to an old family joke they both know. She laughs and then proceeds to tell me in Polish. She gets to the end and they both laugh. Then I laugh. Then she wants to know if I want to know the joke in English. No, I say, I just wanted to hear you talk. She tells him that and we all crack up. 

Laughing with real people; strangers just a few minutes ago. What fun. 

The Missing

Today, the last Saturday of August, I've listened to more than 100 audio clips and, either named them, or deleted them. I easily have a hundred clips to go. Some of them go back two years to my previous smart phone. It's not 'live' anymore but it does have the data.

I am gathering the stories for the next book. And I notice some of what is missing; those folks that I have not recorded merely because I collected their business card or made some other paper note.

Chelsea, the illustrator and natural scientist. Sam, aka Professor Lego. Albert Lo, PhD and SCORE counselor. Bob, the SeaDog sailing captain. Mike, the robot integrator. Gypsi, the energy worker. Qiao Qiao, the young Chinese entrepreneur that could not admit to wanting to hook me up with the Market America business plan.

These are the cards and notes surfing the current wave that washes over my workspace.

I have met so many people, experts in their own lives, with expertise in dozens of disciplines. People living with life and death. You will not see them on the news.

You will see them almost everywhere else though. In lines, in elevators, in transit, in waiting rooms; waiting. Waiting for someone, for you perhaps, to notice them. Or, if YOU slow down a bit, they might notice you. Wouldn't that be a nice change of pace?

"Competition is what keeps us hurtling along in solitude. Collaboration allows us a peek into meaning." ~ David L. White

The very next morning

We saw something on television about the theft of babies from hospitals and two days later I meet John who works as a software engineer at a company that makes the anti-theft anklets for those newborn babies. 

He’s telling me about designing the sensitivity into the product; resistance, capacitance, and temperature? No, actually, not temperature. It’s too slow a change to provide an actionable alert. But we could do that. We expect enough and not too much if we are going to lock down a hospital when an alert bracelet goes off.

On another note we see old friend Tom for supper last night and he's carrying an O2 tank connected to nasal cannula; his oxygen for COPD. And this morning - THE VERY NEXT MORNING - I meet a woman who retired a little early to stay home with her husband who is in the end stages of COPD.

I'm working on this reflection idea that we see what we believe and we find what we're looking for.

I'm not sure that's exactly it. If you ask someone 'do we find what we're looking for?' They may say “Hell no."

I wonder if the fractions and distractions of life play into this. In other words, the lack of focus on any one particular thing ends up being a scattering, a smattering, of everything that goes into every day.

If we find brokenness, division, negativity, and those types of things, is it because that's what we expect to see? Do we expect to find fault in order to unload the burden of blame we might be carrying?

If you say no then let's ask the opposite questions. 

How often do you expect to see goodness? 

How often do you actually encounter goodness?

How often do you expect miracles? 

How often do you actually encounter miracles?

How often do you expect serendipity? And synchronicity?

If you don't have a ready answer for the positive questions then perhaps the former questions have more bearing on your reality then you might have immediately admitted to. If. Might.

Raspberry Crazy Ants

Tarry does interior decoration for a living. He runs his own business. Things are looking up at the moment. He has big new homes by the well-to-do in Oconomowoc and the western Lakes area. 

I've met him a few times. He has an ongoing problem with his truck. Toyota knows about it. They've seen a few cases. I think things are getting better. We don't talk about it much.

He is on his way to Florida to help a buddy move back to Crivitz. The buddy spends a few years in either location and then moves again. 

This time the reason is ants. Apparently these are new, tiny ants and they are everywhere. Every where. Apparently they do not bite or sting. Apparently they are in the sugar, the bedclothes and the electronics. I told him to take some pictures. 

I also asked him to stop in Memphis and hose down in a clean room so as not to bring the critters home.

I thought these ants were probably already on Youtube and that I would look.

Lo and behold.

Raspberry Crazy Ants

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2k7YNGG2ng

Perceptions, expectations, and definitions

The dealer has two buildings; a repair building and a maintenance building. They have words painted on them. That could have been thought out a little better, but, they have words painted on them. One is north and one is south. Maybe those are the key words. Still customers come in and have to be rerouted.

We understand what we mean when we tell customers which building their appointment is at, but the difference between maintenance and repair makes very little difference to someone who simply wants their car serviced.

We say we have a shuttle service; a customer courtesy vehicle. We have done little to define to the customer what we actually mean by that. My personal definition of shuttle is a group bus ride between two points. That is not what the dealer means by it. The dealer means something along the lines of a route defined by the particular group in a given time frame. So we use a word, twist the definition and occasionally run into surprises.

We have a new afternoon driver. She’s been with us for a month. I have heard that there have been a couple angry folks lately surprised that have not been picked up when they expected to be picked up. I don’t put this all on the driver. It seemed to be less of a problem with the previous afternoon drivers. I do not know how to factor that in the equation. 

 I suspect that the afternoon pickups are a bit trickier to negotiate than the morning. First off people have already put in a full day. I am the morning driver. I do not encounter these problems. Still, I do set some expectations and it finally occurs to me that I might have a say in this. Perhaps I could do more to enlighten the customers to our procedure.

Today I drafted some text that might be used in a sign in the waiting room. I wrote this before I examined my personal definition of the term. Maybe we do need to call it a courtesy car and not a shuttle. I’ll update someone besides you on this idea.

….

Courtesy Shuttle Service

We can take you home or to work and return you when your vehicle service has been completed. 

We regularly shuttle people up to 10 to 15 miles from this dealership.

We leave at 7:30 and 8:30 a.m. and other times as required. There is no set return schedule.

We make the most efficient route possible given the times and locations of those returning to the dealership.

There may very well be other customers on your ride/time.

If you have questions please ask your service advisor.

….

I started driving for Boucher Volkswagen in October 2010. They called it a courtesy shuttle. I don’t recall questioning it then. I called my blog ShuttleBug. Volkswagen. Bug. When I started with Toyota I gave myself the nickname ShuttleDave. Some say you can’t give yourself a nickname. That’s okay. If you ask me my name I don’t say Dave either.

I don’t think I am going to scuttle the shuttle or upend the industry, but it all gives me a little pause.

Okay, Ron

A met a union printer from the power company recently. Talking about printing again was fun; ink, paper, finishing. He started with Wisconsin Gas Company and stayed on after the merger with WE Energies. 

Unfortunately people are lazy, out for themselves and don’t care about anything any more. Quality? Who cares. That’s him talking and he’s happy to continue along that line of thought. Traffic is too heavy. Cops don’t do anything. Management is oblivious. The sky is too blue. On and on.

I met a guy named Ron today that was pretty much the same way. Nothing was right at all. If anything I offered up might look bright he waved it off. Abnormal.

And, while he thought he was being funny, he was loudly mouthing off about my driving when we got back into the service drive. Completely making stuff up. Really? That’s not funny, Ron.

I told him a story about a guy that came in and wanted a discount for service. He just asked for it after he was given a base price. He asked three times. Each time the response was - not if you don’t have a coupon.

The final response to the guy asking for a discount was this question. “If I brought a gallon of milk up to the checkout and asked for a discount the checker would ask for a coupon. That’s the way it works.”

This particular fellow was of an ethnic origin known for this behavior.

Ron said he had a coupon. He thought. Maybe it was at home.

“I really can’t take you back. We are on the way to pick someone else up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. It expired and I probably threw it away.”

Okay, Ron.

Meeting Jesus

The morning I met Jesus he was carrying a book he intended to read if he had to wait for his car at the dealership. Covey’s 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. He’d been to a training. I failed to follow that in the conversation. What did he learn? When was it? Has it stuck with him? Does he practice it?

I mentioned this in a post that day about the people I met that day. I had told some of this 'meeting Jesus' story to the very next gal Karen. She said that she had attended two Covey trainings courtesy of her employer. I failed to follow that line of conversation also.

The Covey book came to my attention again recently because it is celebrating its 25th year since publication. I told Jesus that I had been looking for my book in order to reread it. And here I meet two people that had had the training and I failed to pick up on that. Hmmm.

We were have pleasant conversations. Nothing hurried or forced about either of us trying to make a point.

Jesus and I talked a bit about the shortcomings of self-help material. Karen and I talked about quality of life issues. She sees end-of-life issues on a daily basis in her medical practice. And we all talked about importance of friends and family.

Karen and I talked about pharmacological drugs and intentional death and state executions. I brought it up and she offered her knowledge. I asked why veterinarians do not encounter the problems that the state execution team has been encountering with botched executions so recently in the news. 

She said that vets proceed with animals in an inhumane way. While we may love our pets and feel incredibly close to them, we proceed as though they do not have sufficient awareness to warrant a more humane method with which to dispatch them. 

That evening I spent some time writing the story of the day. Early the next morning it occurred to me how to proceed with the second Drive Time book and Do Happy Better. I could finally see the interweave between the stories. The cross-stitch that knits the stories together is the exchange of ideas with the intent to make things better. By those ‘things’ I mean some mix of product, process, and purpose.

This morning I came across and article giving pointers on animal communication. The article said we are born telepathic and can recover that if we slow down and become more intentional. Verbal language has limited uses. It reminded me of the celebrity dog trainer Cesar Millan when he says he trains owners more than he trains dogs.

I do believe we will find collaboration getting an upgrade over competition as an important evolutionary step.

Meeting and greeting people is an important ingredient in collaboration. I hope to demonstrate the value of that and encourage the practice of it.

Drive Time was collected from stories in the shuttle. In order to flesh out the book I added the autobiographical stuff I talk about when customers ask about me and my life. I think it’s time to talk about ideas.

The Jesus in the title of this story refers to Jesus Lopez.

Happy Birthday, Krishna

Monday. New Moon. I met Jesus this morning. 

He was my first ride out this week. It was just the two of us. Yes, Jesus*. 

He was carrying Stephen R. Covey's book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.

“How is it going?” I asked, pointing to the book.

“Fine.” he said.

I told him I was recently looking for my copy so I could read it again.

“Have you been to the training?" he asked.

“No." I said. I don’t know why I didn’t ask about his experience of the training. We must have made a turn. Now I am curious what that’s about.

Otherwise we spoke generally of self-help and quality of life. I told him I’m working on a book. I have been polishing my opinions on this topic of course and added a little spit to the shine.

We spent a few minutes in front of his house before he got out of the shuttle. He has two boys and a girl and he has given considerable thought about the life-time cash from a part-time job versus the value of family time. He’s going with family time.

Karen was my next rider. She knows cancer drugs and cancer. She’s a pharmacological oncologist at a local hospital.

“I assume your job is to provide comfort and care to people recovering from cancer or moving into death. Can you talk to me about the intentional use of drugs to induce death?”

“Sure.”

"I have been curious about why botched state-sanctioned executions have been in the news lately. How is it that veterinarians do not take two hours to put a pet to sleep?” I asked.

Basically she said that we (the culture) do not consider that our pets are sentient and self-aware beings. We do not communicate with them at the verbal level. Or, more correctly, they do not do that with us. So, we allow our vets to induce a coma-like state and then a heart-stopping drug.

Apparently we need to be more humane to humans because apparently they/we know more about what’s going on. As if pets don’t. I did mention a couple books on plant consciousness. She might look them up. Here is another specific time that I wish I could take notes. Here I am, having private time, with a doctor that is conversant with death.

Anyway, it is possible that I do not have this drug thing exactly right even though I am writing now less than 12 hours after we met.

We also got on the quality-of-life issue, the miracle of the very breath itself, the distractions … And, she also, has been to two Steven Covey trainings, courtesy of the hospital. Another reason to hope that I meet her again.

We did not speak about her land of origin. I am pretty sure she did not grow up in America and western culture. I can’t believe I missed asking that particular question. Her car is in the body shop for this next week or so. Maybe we'll meet again.

Speaking of distractions; I met T again; mother of 3, a control operator at the power plant. She’d been a nuke controller in the military, which I imagined as;

“Navy?"

“Of course.”

I then get to chime in about my younger brother, the USS Shark, the USS Kitty Hawk … as if I knew anything about any of that … but still ….

And so, she, mother of three … here we are with endless questions and comments from the kids. 

While there is a great deal of love around the miracle of life, one can easily imagine the distractions. There they are, in the back seat. "Mom. Mom. Mom?"

“To touch the soul of another human being 

is to walk on holy ground.” 

~ Stephen R. Covey

*Jesus? Yes, Jesus Lopez.

Further, there is a small Indian congregation here in the neighborhood. There was a birthday party recently in the front yard. For several days there were tents, tables and the vinyl party sign was up for days.  It read: Happy Birthday, Krishna.

Off and on

In 5 weeks in March and April this year I published 4 books. Things are going fine as far as I am concerned. Marketing, distribution, event planning all have learning curves that are not about writing.

Anyway, those activities have kept me from the keyboard. There have been a few shuttle stories lately that remind me what fun/work it is. And, then there is the self-help material that waits begging.

Summer is not over but I don't think I am waiting for the chill to set in before I sit back down at the typer.

Talk to you soon.

Swayz Mexican Restaurant

I met a couple ladies yesterday. A mother and daughter duo. We had some high-spirited fun while I took them home.

I asked what was for lunch. It was noon. I was looking for ideas. They thought Mexican. I said this, this and this place and they said no, and no, and no.

It turns out that they own a Mexican restaurant. Well, no wonder they are so discriminating.

We're nearing their destination and I said the name of their place. They were surprised. They had not told me. I said it had been a couple years but that I had eaten there and had always meant to return.

Anyway, we had been talking about things they know and I do not; tacos al pastor and corn tortillas specifically. What kind, where from, etc.

I invited myself to dinner soon with the idea that they might take me into the kitchen and show me how to handle fresh corn tortillas on my own. 

The mama seemed to enjoy our conversation enough to give me free margarita coupons.
I think she likes me.

Swayz

4048 S. Packard Avenue Saint Francis, WI 53235

www.swayzrestaurant.com

Reviews

A couple friends surprised me with reviews of Drive Time. I'm touched. Very lovely.

Bing Video Mapper

On the 4th of this month I posted a pic on another blog of a Bing video mapping car I saw in town. It was blue with Colorado plates. The very next day a few blocks away I saw another one. It was silver and had plates from a different state. I couldn't get close enough. He turned. I had customers on board. 

The very next day after that here was that second car up on the rack in our dealership. Amazing.

The magnetic Bing signs were removed and the camera was down and wrapped carefully. 

The car has been in the shop a full week. Apparently a new transmission was in order. Today it's done.

I 'd like to meet the fellow that operates that car. I have questions. I did ask one of our service advisors if he might bring it up in conversation with the fellow. 

I figure he's not working and I'd buy him a root beer float and he could tell me a couple stories for my next book. So far nothing. 

Compliments. Thank you.

Bob and Kathy sent a lovely email after their visit to the dealership yesterday. 

I was able to both drop and pick up the husband Bob. On the way home they sat in the back seat together and he talked the whole way. He's very smart and experienced and enjoys proving it. 

They had a lovely conversation between them about almost everything. No wonder she doesn't know my name.

Kathy writes; "Our compliments to everyone we dealt with on our recent visit. The shuttle driver, Paul, was exceptional."
Yes, ma'am, ya got part of it exactly right. I'll take it. Thank you, ShuttleDave.