Driving along the interstate, on the way to grandma’s house, going in just the right direction, at just the right time of day, at just the right time of year, such that the sun reflecting off of driver’s side rearview mirrors of the cars ahead dazzles, brilliantly, blindingly–wasn’t sure what it was at first–then, the road curves, the angle changes, and, one by one, the lights extinquish.
Sitting in the attic “Penthouse,” listening to local music show on public radio station “The Current.” Dorothea and Madeline out. They went to see Pride and Prejudice. Liam and Anders are downstairs, playing a pretty dumb baseball video game. Guess it seems dumb because as even they say it is for younger kids. They are taking turns. While it is Liam’s turn, Anders is playing fetch with Stella. “Drop it…..Drop it……. Drop it……Stay……Drop it…..Drop it….Stay. Anyway, he says that he’s getting used to Stella. Liam was playing with her pretty roughly the other day. I asked if he wasn’t a little afraid that she’d bite him. Nah. He trusts her totally.
I had my every-other Saturday class at Saint Thomas yesterday. Bummed when we went into the lab to work on the example program of what will be our projects and the teacher said that I was the only one that he couldn’t get set up as a DBA for Oracle, so I’d have to follow along with someone else. This sort of thing has happened multiple times now, like when I went online to register for spring semester and it would let me register because my transcript apparently wasn’t on file. I called “Doug,” the administrator for the department. I suspect that he’s responsible for most of the snafus, but on the up side, once the problems are noted, he can fix them immediately. This as opposed to say the University of Minnesota, where the bureaucracy would be huger.
So last night and today I have been trying to get databases loaded on my laptop so that I can bypass the school. There are usually free developer or “Personal Editions”—MS SQL and DB2, and, as it turns out, Oracle. Oracle is hug. I have been deleting stuff from my hard drive, which is now and has been grinding away pretty consistently.
Last night Dorothea and I went out. The idea was that I would surprise her with doing something that she liked. I had bought tickets to see Christine Lavin and Claudia Schmidt. (Think Red House Records.) Only, as it turns out, first of all, she had gone out most nights that week—a couple of nights were plays with Madeline—some other things, so she was pretty beat. And, as it turns out, she doesn’t really like Claudia that much. So, it was borderline grim. So be it.
I was pretty upset the other day with the report that Minnesota Public Radio was foregoing hundreds of thousands of dollars in state funding because a new state law requires that they (MPR) state how many employees make over a $100,000 a year. (The CEO makes a reported $500,000 a year.) I thought, well, if they don’t need the state funding, they certainly don’t need my money. I would rather give my support to community radio. And, I would listen to the radio station Drive 105, which plays essentially the same sort of music as the Current, but it is a commercial station. At least and honestly commercial radio station. But, then, being the back-slider that I am, I thought, well, Bill Kling’s $500,000 a year is closer to the lowest pay in the organization, closer than the gazillions of dollars that the CEO of the bank makes, for instance. Oh well.
Happy. Quick stop at Nina’s. No oatmeal. Last time, it was too warm and too filling. Naked Protein instead.
On the radio in the car on the way here, report that massive doses of Vitamin C are of no use, from a study done be the Linus Pauling Institute, no less. The two doctors tht they interview both said they don’t take vitamin C supplements, get it through their diet. But one did admit to doing a thousand when he felt a cold coming on.
Session tow for counseling for D. and I last night. The one comment that struck me was the counselor saying that it was clear that we liked each other, that there were often people sitting in the chairs that clearly despised each other. Dorothea laughing as we told our story of Red Wing. No simple answers.
Here brother Joe called last night to say that after they spread some of Thomas’ ashes in Cozumel, they were sitting in a restaurant with a friend having beer and a dragonfly flew by. There aren’t very many dragonflies in Cozumel. Hmmm.
Job: no promotion, no surprise. I am now very motivated to find a different job. I could get sacked tomorrow, or I could be at the bank for twenty-five years. Both prospects are now unappealing.
One of those mornings where, earlier, I thought all these great thoughts but now can’t remember them.
Cahokia–still want to work on that one. And, if as it seems I will be having snippets scattered over many entries, this might be a good time to start using tags to label them. Anyway, the Little Ica Age gave me pause, made me think of the Ananzi (spell) in the southwest–cliff dwellers who also seemed to run into problems late in the pre-Columbia era. They kept building their homes on higher and higher, more inaccessible cliffs. And in the archaeological record there is evidence of cannibalism–of them, by some other group that was attacking them, apparently. And, this may have been tied into climate change–the Little Ice Age.
So with Cahokia. But another twist. I remember for the Cahokia Interpretative Center mention of tribute–communities from far and wide needed to give some of their crop to the priests at Cahokia. But as the weather got worse and raising crops more difficult, yields fell. But the tribute levels remained high. Essentially, there was revolt. The stockade at Cahokia was the priest-class defending themselves against the populous.