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Friday, September 29, 2006

Trade Adjustment Act

I've been coming in a few hours earlier than normal each afternoon to maximize my training time with B-Rad and Garden Gnome. At least working with both of them has been fun as they're a couple of demented little guys. Good senses of humor and they are up for playing practical jokes on almost anyone here at a moment's notice. So that's been interesting. I feel kind of bad about leaving Mini-Rel operations in the hands of Greasy Guy again because I know what is going to happen back there in the lab and chamber area. That goofball bastard is going to slam the brakes down hard on production so he has plenty of time to wander around in the engineering department chasing after secretaries. Just like old times. Nothing ever changes around here...

Boozealler is supposed to be training with B-Rad in the morning every day but so far it sounds like he's come up with nothing but excuses. He's too busy, has meetings to sit in, etc. All I see him doing is kick back in his cubicle reading real estate text books. That's it. Seems to me if he's got enough time to be reading school books while he's on the clock he should have enough time to learn the MI/EI process.

While I was in the Button Up area working with those two guys today, Garden Gnome quietly dropped a memo on me and told me to read it. He didn't say much else. Looking it over my eyes practically bugged out of my skull. Get this. The company had the nerve to tell the US Government that all our job losses and layoffs were just because the company needed to stay competitive. Corporate tried to bullshit their way out of telling the truth that offshoring to places like Malaysia was just to boost short term profits. Somebody filed a suit against the company claiming our job cuts were violating a law called the Trade Adjustment Act which I hadn't heard of before. The Government wasn't buying Super Geek's story and they got themselves busted. Neat. The gist of it is every employee who has been laid off over the past couple of years is now eligible for funding to go back to school and retrain in another field. There are limitations and strict guidelines on what you can do with it but that's very cool.

Thinking about this I realized the guys in corporate really don't have any credibility. I mean whenever they show up and try to bullshit us in a coffee talk and I read about crap like this I just don't have any trust or respect left for those people.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

A Humble Apology

Today we were called into a special closed door meeting with the Bossman. Rougly 40 employees are all that remain now thanks to nearly a dozen rounds of heavy job cuts. None of us knew what our supervisor wanted to talk with us about and as I looked over people's faces I could tell who was nervous, those that didn't give a shit, and a few employees who appeared to be having a good time. I was somewhere inbetween the nervous and didn't give a shit crowd.

After waiting for everyone to settle down the Bossman began to speak. He was having a difficult time choosing his words at first. Obviously something had been troubling him. It was apparent from the tone of his voice and long pauses between what he was trying to say. Basically, he told everyone in the room that he was truly sorry. He was sorry for the way our employees had been treated by the company, he told us this was not the way Bill and Dave would have conducted our business, and this was not the way he would have chosen to handle downsizing our department. I got the feeling from his demeanor that my boss was disgusted with the way things had turned out.

The Bossman apologized to everyone sitting in that conference room. Especially to those who had just lost their jobs and would be leaving in three months or less.

I was amazed. He didn't have to do this.

Continuing on the Bossman told us that trying to meet production goals with such a drastically smaller staff was going to be difficult. He wasn't sure if we'd be able to pull it off or not. A plan was still forming in his mind to try though. In coming weeks he said some of us would be asked to transition into other jobs. Work that some of us might not prefer to do but there was a need there nonetheless. He specifically asked employees who were being severed out to try to do their best with training replacements. The Bossman knew that would be a tough thing for some people to deal with.

I had already been approached by the boss to head over to Button Up. While I wasn't happy about making that move I realized I still had a job here. That was the important thing. I would not have chosen to make that transition on my own and it wasn't the kind of work I wanted to do anymore. Been there, done that years before. It was what I had been tasked with doing though so I would make the best of a bad situation. Just because it wasn't technical work in nature didn't mean the job was any less important. In fact staffing MI/EI is probably even more critical than anything I had been messing with back in the lab. Since Button Up is the last stop in our production area everything on each box has to be perfect before shipping out. Those guys screening for defects have to be on it mentally during their entire shift. Their attention to detail has to be exceptional. Nothing less. It's up to them to catch electrical failures, cosmetic damage, assembly mistakes, discrepancies in paperwork, and all sorts of random unpredictable bullshit.

It's an important job. With one shot we lost our Button Up experts B-Rad and Garden Gnome. There wasn't anyone left after that. The Bossman announced that both myself and Boozealler were tapped on the shoulder to train with B-Rad and Garden Gnome as their replacements. I think he was trying to use us as an example of the kind of job shifts our crew would be facing from now on. That was when Boozealler decided to open his big stupid mouth.

Boozealler abruptly announced into the room, "I don't think I should have to do that kind of work. It's beneath me." He continued running his mouth after that but I tuned him out.

Instantly I glanced over to where B-Rad was sitting. I could see he was angry. I mean who wouldn't be? He just lost his job after working here for over twenty years and he's got some punk saying the work he did that whole time is unworthy. That's what Boozealler was telling everyone whether he meant to or not. Big Dog was sitting to my left and he started making wisecracks about what an asshole Boozealler is. People started snickering. Treehead and EH weren't impressed with Boozealler's comments either. The boss remained quiet and let Boozealler dig himself in deeper and deeper. I think everyone in the room at that moment lost any and all respect they ever had for Boozealler, if they had any to begin with.

Rather skillfully, the boss made his response to Boozealler very clear. If you weren't willing to roll with the punches like the rest of us you wouldn't continue to be employed here for much longer.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Bossman

Funny thing happened with this most recent layoff. All but one of the department's supervisors have been kicked out. I'm busting a gut laughing about that. Probably the best part of the whole deal is Halfshirt and his precious kiss ass James are no longer employed here. So sweet. Good riddance, assholes!

A supervisor who has been handling new product launches for the past couple of years is stepping down from the R&D labs to take control of our area. He's no stranger around here since many of us have been working for him indirectly on Mini-Rel without actually reporting to him. I genuinely like the guy, he's got a real up front honest personality with a reputation for being fair and for being a straight shooter. If you make a mistake somewhere along the line and he has to come speak with you about it he'll just come right out and say you fucked up. That's cool because all he wants is whatever situation to be rectified. And if you outperformed or really did a kick ass job the Bossman will make sure you get recognized for it. I like that.

Production managers here in this company used to be held to very high standards of performance and conduct. In the 1970s Bill and Dave's company was at it's pinnacle of innovation and status as the world's premier technology leader. Due to rapid growth and the need for more people to step up in the company many standards were drastically lowered for hiring supervisors. The floodgates were thrown wide open, almost anyone could transition into management. Two decades later you can really see how much damage these incompetant cokeheads have caused throughout our business divisions. It's been bad. The Bossman however is one of those rare individuals that in my opinion embodied what Bill and Dave sought for in their management team members. They wanted sharp people who could make solid business decisions and who had excellent people skills. Since 1992 I've had a lot of supervisors here and only two of them fit into this category. The rest have been junk.

The Bossman dropped by my cubicle the other day and we had a serious talk. Everyone down on the back end of the line has been thrown out. Their exit dates are scheduled three months from now which doesn't leave much time for training their replacements. We're already spread pretty thin in the department as it is. He asked if I would be able to handle taking over the Button Up area. It wasn't great news. Years ago I did plenty of MI/EI work on a couple other instrument lines. The thought of going back to doing that instead of supporting engineering in the environmental lab made me cringe. But, I told the Bossman if there isn't any choice I'd make the best of it. Yeah, I could handle it. What a big step backwards though. Shipping boxes off the line wouldn't be anywhere near as interesting as working with prototype units in the lab. Before the Bossman left he said we would talk about it some more soon.

I felt pretty bad for B-Rad and Garden Gnome. B-Rad had been working here for 22 years, most of that time he spent as a MI/EI expert. Losing your job after that many years had to be rough. If I have to go back there to train with them hopefully they won't be too bitter about it. I mean Garden Gnome and B-Rad won't have much incentive to show me what's up since they've been ditched. I can completely understand how they might feel in this situation.

The Deepest Cut

As months passed everything at Bill and Dave's company became increasingly stressful. With each wave of layoffs few employees were left still standing yet our daily workloads increased. It was truly depressing. While Greasy Guy was over in Malaysia, Boozealler and myself were able to turn the entire Mini-Rel operation completely around. Even though I didn't personally like Boozealler much I did have to give him credit for doing such an excellent job in the area. He earned my respect. Because of that strange skin corrosion he was covered in I didn't want him sharing my torque wrenches. I kept my distance. I never did ask him what the hell his affliction was...

Late in the summer that year we were told a final round of layoffs was coming. Rumor had it that this was going to be the last big one, a total bloodbath that hardly anyone would survive. For many of our employees the stress of wondering whether or not they still had a job was too much to handle. Emotionally, some people had turned into total wrecks. They just wanted to get it overwith once and for all. I didn't really care anymore. All I did every day was show up, do shit, go home to drink mass amounts of beer, and sleep through the following afternoon. What a routine.

When Super Geek's offshoring axe did finally swing the rumored bloodbath was entirely as advertised. Most of the people in my department had been handed a severance package and told to leave. Elements of our dayshift team were completely eradicated, and only a handful on swingshift made it. I had even been hit, but someone in management intervened on my behalf. No one told me about that until months later though. At the time I had no idea about it. Since almost everyone was let go that meant big changes were in store for those of us still collecting a paycheck. My fledgeling technical career path was coming to a halt and like many others I would be forced to step down into less challenging work. Sometimes you have to roll with unpleasant changes like it or not. The thing I tried to keep in mind was, a job is a job. Working here a while longer would at least be easier than standing in line at the unemployment office downtown.

Messing With Shoelaces

Another slow night came and went at work today. I hate it when it's slow. Every time I take a peek at my watch it feels like an hour or two should have passed but it's only been ten minutes since the last check. When things are this slow my mind goes into mischievous overdrive and then dumb stuff happens. Tonight I talked Dr. Fist into pulling a prank on Shoelaces. The idea was to go up into the ceiling via Mezzanine level catwalks and pelt Shoelaces from above his workbench with garbage. Only problem was we weren't sure where exactly his workbench would be located from up there. Can't see through ceiling tiles you know and the catwalks might not be anywhere near where Shoelaces was sitting.

After Dr. Fist used his proxy card to unlock an access doorway to the Mezzanine, we stepped through to the main catwalk. Acting all serious like we were there for a legitimate reason both of us passed by a security camera and then promptly broke left onto another walkway. Following Dr. Fist through a rat maze of access doors we zig zagged across the building to where we thought Shoelaces bench was located. Neither one of us could see shit down below in the production area. Railings kept us from reaching out to lift ceiling tiles to spy and it was far too dangerous to even think about climbing over a railing to walk around out there. One wrong step and you'd plunge through cardboard thin tiles and white florescent light fixtures to smack a smooth concrete floor. That wouldn't be good.

We knew Shoelaces must be close by but without having a clear view there was no way to be sure. Also, there wasn't a good spot like a missing tile or a hole anywhere through which we could dump cans of garbage or throw stuff at him. Then I had an idea. Close to where I was standing there happened to be a computer rack with a bunch of phone equipment in it. Covered in dust there was an old black desk phone sitting at the bottom of that rack. I picked it up and to my surprise I heard a dial tone. I punched in Shoelaces' extension. Not far away I heard his phone ringing, and a few seconds later Shoelaces answered. Heh. I engaged him in small talk while Dr. Fist hovered right over Shoelaces voice. I couldn't think of much else to babble about and I was starting to laugh so I cut the conversation short. We could hear our unsuspecting victim walk back over to his technical workbench and sit down.

Improvising on the spot Dr. Fist reached over from where he was crouching on the catwalk and grabbed a long length of discarded phone cable from a small wastebasket. Poking the cable through a corner of a ceiling tile he slowly fed more and more downward. Neither one of us could see where it was going and we both had stupid grins on our faces. Everything was going well and then all of a sudden without warning the whole phone cable was yanked out of Dr. Fist's grip. It disappeared instantly. We'd been caught. Apparently the cable landed on an instrument Shoelaces was troubleshooting but he didn't notice it right away because he was looking at some schematics on his computer terminal. When he turned in his chair and spotted cable dangling down from the ceiling he snagged it and pulled hard. The jig was up.

Oh well, at least it helped waste some time and kept me from being completely bored.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Dr. Fist

Unlike many engineers fresh out of college who enter the world of high technology, veteran engineers like Dr. Fist and DJ Danny Mac actually know what they're doing. I've worked closely with young mechanical, electrical, and software engineers who have graduated from respected schools all over the country in recent years. Not many of them have the aptitude or skill for the profession they've chosen. It's disappointing and also frustrating when you have to deal with engineers who can't hack it. Frequently I wonder what in the hell college professors are trying to teach these guys. Do they encourage their students to intern anywhere while in school for some valuable hands-on experience? I'm not sure.

Dr. Fist has been working at Bill and Dave's company for a couple decades I reckon. Over the past year and a half I've relied upon him for systems support and for advice dealing with tons of random projects that have been dumped on me. He's been a tremendous help. Whenever I'm stuck with a serious problem that I just can't solve Dr. Fist and DJ Danny Mac are the guys I call to get things sorted out. It's like being able to request a heavy artillery strike to wipe out nuisances. Both of them are our swing shift engineering support and they are damn good at what they do. I'm probably not smart enough to be an engineer but if I was, I'd want to be like these two kooks.

I've spent some time talking to Dr. Fist about how he became interested in electronics and what he did for work before getting a job with us. From the sound of things Dr. Fist seems like he must have been a very gifted child. He was fascinated with all things electrical in nature from a young age. Little boys are troublemakers and one of the things Dr. Fist liked to do was short out the power to his neighborhood. He threw lengths of exposed wire over high voltage power lines and watched a light show of sparks as everyone's houses went dead. Once, he bought a kit that allowed him to convert an old tube television into an oscilloscope. I didn't know anyone had even thought of such a thing back in those days. Dr. Fist even figured out how to broadcast over a local television station with practically no real equipment. That's impressive for a kid to pull off. Himself and a few friends apparently were able to sing "Home On The Range" during a popular TV program which completely drowned out the show's dialog. Nobody caught Dr. Fist for this prank despite the fact that a local newspaper ran a story about the mysterious "Home On The Range" singers.

Like myself, Dr. Fist has collected a wide variety of vintage electronic gear. He must think I'm a pest because I keep picking his brain about different kinds of obsolete technology. Stuff most people have never seen much less think about. Lately I've been on a quest for Nixie tubes so I bother Dr. Fist about them whenever I see him in a hallway or stop by his cubicle. Man, he's got some crazy stories. Years ago he picked up a used pulse laser from a Bay Area surplus store. The laser was a model from an Army laboratory and according to Dr. Fist the beam was not constant. It had to charge up then fire off. When the laser was active for a brief period of time the beam could burn through solid objects. Part of the charging mechanism gave off so much energy that it would cause a sheet of binder paper to burst into flames if it was held nearby. Sounds like fun to me. He mentioned that laser output power is sometimes measured in Gillettes. That is, how many Gillette razor blades a beam can burn through if they are stacked in a row. I never knew that.

Recently I ran across a pretty funny website that documented a clever portable electronic design someone had thought up for keeping a single mug of beer cold. http://folk.ntnu.no/arnesen/peltierbeer/index.html
The project seemed like something our employees would be able to build easily so I forwarded the weblink out to a bunch of guys in my department. Someone else then forwarded that link on to Dr. Fist. His response was amusing...

As a senior in high school (1970) I connected a peltier cooler in an icechest. Project goal, keep a sixpack cool for a week on a single battery and remain portable. I ended up cheating and used a battery from an ICBM. Small, powerful, mega expensive, not rechargeable. Price prohibited product market. On the Guinness cooler the guy made. Keeping a dark beer cool on a hot day is even more important because the sun heats it faster than a light beer. He made a number of basic principle errors of not controlling his heat/cold sources. There have been advances in the technologies of batteries and peltier devices that could produce a marketable product. I like my pop ice cold not just cool, keeping it cold in the sun is a bit more of a challenge. This would also enlarge the market for the cooler.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

The Mezzanine Floor Tour

Between the first and second floors of Building 1 there's an off limits mezzanine level. Sometimes when I was transferring instruments through the facility on a large rolling cart I'd have to use a freight elevator. Every once in a while I'd catch a security guard stopping the elevator at the mysterious mezzanine level. They put a key in the control panel to unlock the elevator doors and then step out there and vanish. Nobody has access to it besides those guys and maybe some building maintenance workers. I always thought that was kinda strange.

Mentioning my observations to Dr. Fist about the sneaky security guard elevator action he laughed. He told me they have a secret command bunker in there. I was like, what the fuck? We've got what I thought is THE security command center in our main building's lobby. Dr. Fist told me that's just for show. The real one is hidden up there where nobody can get to it. Real doomsday kinda stuff I guess. Weird. Our other facility up on the hill was built during the height of the Cold War and I knew it had some crazy built in features. There's four buildings stacked up on a hillside and they're all inter-connected with underground bomb shelters.

Dr. Fist said, "Building two also has a mezzanine level." I often heard workers trampling overhead on metal catwalks somewhere up there but I never thought much of it. I asked if we could go check it out, it was kind of slow in the area anyway and Dr. Fist has a proxy card that grants him access to nearly everything on the campus. He agreed and we went up to take a look around. Shoelaces joined us as well. Dr. Fist warned me though. Apparently there were hidden cameras along the catwalks and security would see everything. So I better not do any stupid shit.

We walked out of the production area to a nondescript door. Dr. Fist used his proxy card and the electronic lock gave way. After climbing up a steep ladder and opening another door we entered into a strange world. Instead of being inside an industrial building it looked more like I was wandering around inside the hull of a ship. We had to crawl underneath large air ducts, climb over series of pipes, and I had to watch for low ceilings. Not more than five minutes into the adventure I managed to bust my skull on a section of overhead pipe. Really fucking hurt, too.

I never realized how much equipment is needed to run a building this size. I mean, you wouldn't see it unless you were a maintenance worker I guess. There were rows of autonomous computer system racks that looked like something you'd see in a science fiction movie. Dr. Fist told us what each one of them did. One was for controlling the fire suppression systems and alarms, another handled all of the phone traffic in the building. A separate section handled the building's computer networks. Continuing the tour I was surprised to see small maintenance worker desks. They had been let go some time ago and a few of their workbenches still had paperwork mixed with a sprinkling of hand tools scattered on them. One of them even had a clock that had stopped. It was as if they had all suddenly died.

Climbing up a short flight of stairs we opened a tiny door and cruised out into a rat maze of cat walks. The light switches were all controlled by timers so if you were going to be working up there for a while you'd have to guess how much time you needed and set the timer switch accordingly. Every few hundred feet there were obsolete computer terminals covered in thick layers of dust. The monitors reminded me of old monochrome green Apple IIe computers. I bet none of them had been used since the early 1980s. I didn't know where in the hell Dr. Fist was leading our clandestine tour to until we stopped inside a large room with an odd looking machine in it. It was the size of a bus and painted pure bone white. Seemed like it was brand new.

"Do you know what that is?" Dr. Fist asked me. I didn't have a clue.
"It's an air scrubber."
"A what?"
He said, "Back when they were building this section of the facility one of the top managers here wanted to use this building for a new PC board division. He was trying to get corporate to set it up and place himself in charge of the whole operation. The building was intended for high volume board production. Solder wave machines would exhaust smoke fumes through special ventilation shafts into this air scrubber. It uses water and a series of filters to catch all the chemicals and then spit clean air out of the building. After it was installed by heavy crane through the roof, corporate killed the new PC board division idea. This machine has never been used."

Wacky. And what a waste of money. I'd never seen anything like it before. Climbing around the machine's base to get a good look at it I stumbled across something that made me laugh. One of the maintenance workers had rigged himself up with a covert bunk so he could sleep on the job. Heh. Lazy bastards. No wonder we got rid of 'em!

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Visiting With Feet

Girls are pesky. Naturally pesky.

Sometimes Autumn crosses over the pesky threshold... way past my tolerance level for female peskiness. This mostly happens when we're laying around in bed or we're both kicking back on the livingroom couch. If Autumn is a little on the restless side and has too much energy for her own good the pesky comes out of her with a rambunctious vengeance. Emergency depeskification is immediately required.

Finding a fast, safe, and effective method for stopping the pesky did take some experimentation on my part. Eventually I was able to narrow things down to one tried and true flawless procedure for eliminating the pesky. I simply let my hands visit with Autumn's feet. You see, her feet are extremely sensitive to the touch. She loves having them rubbed. They're also amusing to mess with because Autumn is absolutely ticklish on the bottom of her feet. So the way this procedure works is Autumn is subdued with one arm (can be a dangerous job) and then feet are visited liberally with my demented digits on the free hand. During this phase of the process Autumn becomes a wild squirmy woman possessed by demons. I would assume she is not having a good time however she laughs all crazy-like. I have to conclude she always enjoys my personal visits with her feet immensely.

Afterward, Autumn is fairly quiet and she has a bitter look in her eyes. The good news though is all that pesky is gone! Works every time. In addition, if I sense that a fresh case of pesky is brewing I can ask Autumn if I need to see her feets. This of course is a veiled threat but most of the time it's all I need to do to preemptively stop the peskiness before it's too late.

Cart Arms

Halfshirt has been doing nothing but whine lately. I'm sick of hearing it. His latest gripe is we don't have enough instrument arms to mount up more units on hubie carts. There must be a couple hundred carts stacked up in the area right now and there's plenty of instrument chassis to throw on them. But, no arms to mount them means new boxes sit around on shelves collecting dust. It's totally stupid because the longer they sit around like that we have less available days to meet their shipment deadlines. Pull out your gun and shoot yourself in the foot please. We're good at doing that to ourselves around here you know.

A simple solution to the cart arm problem would be for Halfshirt to task his personal kiss ass James to build more arms. We have boxes of brand new hardware to make at least another fifty sets of arms. That idea doesn't seem to have crossed Halfshirt's mind at all. Figures. He can't manage his way out of a wet paper bag.

Yesterday afternoon I was so fed up with Halfshirt's whimpering that I told him I would make time to build up more cart arms. My plan was to leave them in a couple of boxes on his desk ready to use by tomorrow morning. That would be that, he could shut the fuck up now. When I had two hours free from the chamber area I set myself up at one of the assembly production workbenches with all the necessary parts and hardware. Putting these things together doesn't require much. Each set of arms are identical with the exception that one side has a sprocket gear added to the axle. The other one is just a straight axle. Two arms, two axles, one sprocket gear, four screws, and four nuts. Put 'em together and tighten up. Place in box. Repeat. Sheesh.

At a minimum when I arrived at work today I expected a thank you from Halfshirt for doing him a favor.

Today when I come in to work I hear Halfshirt did nothing but complain about the new sets of hubie cart arms I built. Get this. He had James the butt snorkle sandpaper the side of each arm that mounts to instrument subframes because he claimed they were all dinged and scratched. When I built them the night before I dumped them into large black ESD boxes. No big deal, we throw them into a variety of containers on the shop floor when not in use and they get handled pretty rough. Halfshirt freaked out as soon as he saw stacks of the hardware thrown into boxes. James wasted a good portion of his shift sanding out miniscule nicks in metal and it's all for nothing because they're going to get thrown into boxes again as each unit is shipped off the line. If Halfshirt is so worried about the shit being dinged and somehow scratching front panel instrument paint he should remember one thing: we have instrument touch-up paint for covering minor cosmetic damage from cart arms. That's what it's here for in the first place, dumbshit.

Back To The E Lab

I am impressed. Boozealler has been kicking ass working Mini-Rel. In less than a month he's picked up quickly on every aspect of the job. Boozealler is a fast learner and his communication skills have been top notch. He's my day shift counterpart while Greasy Guy is in Malaysia again. I'm seriously considering approaching our department managers to ask if we can keep Greasy Guy in Malaysia permanently. I don't want him around here anymore. Greasy Guy left for Malaysia a few weeks ago and just like last time I was able to rapidly get our operation back on schedule. Now with Boozealler's assistance we've even got a little ahead of things which is a first. That's freed me up to spend more time in the environmental lab supporting vibration and shock testing.

Engineering needs more test data on our latest designs of instruments because they've had too many electrical failures. Personally my feeling is the latest generation of boxes we're producing are flimsy. Bad mechanical design and shoddy workmanship from our subcontractors are serious issues. Older product platforms were built like tanks compared to this new shit. During the vibration tests I've observed brand new units go completely dead, the black and white front panel display screens suddenly are color (which they aren't supposed to be able to do), power supplies arc and short out, smoke belches out of the instrument case, and other totally random stuff. For a new design I'd say none of this bodes well. These things are probably not going to last long in the field.

With each hard electrical failure both mechanical and electrical engineers are called to investigate. We're short on time trying to introduce these products to the market before our competitors come out with a similar offering. So not enough time is being devoted to reaching solid solutions. Instead engineers are forced by time constraints to come up with band-aid fixes that won't last.

One trend I noticed in failures at vibration test had to do with PC boards backing out of their connectors on the motherboard, which causes the instrument's power supply to automatically shut down. Kills the unit instantly. That means there might be a hardware problem with those motherboard connectors themselves. Rather than really get down to it to discover what the root cause of the problem is, mechanical engineers opted to place a couple of foam rubber pads inside. That's supposed to help force the boards down into their sockets. Pads like that disintegrate rapidly though so that problem will eventually surface again when those units have been in use for a while. They're also using plastic tie-wraps all over the place to secure rigid cables throughout the units. That's fine, but when you're using defective plastic tie-wrap anchor points that pop off the instrument you might as well not bother.

Out behind the shock and vibration room where I spend hours at a time thrashing instruments there is a specially built room we call the Isolation Booth. Inside it reminds me of a sound studio because the walls and ceiling are covered in a pattern of special blue foam cones. The booth is used to test RFI (radio frequency interference) and EMI (electromagnetic interference) leakage. Noise like that from high end gear can affect a wide variety of electronics in a bad way. For example they might screw up someone's Pacemaker and kill 'em. There are industry standards we have to abide by with our products so we also have to test them to see how much RFI/EMI they might be leaking and how much each box can dampen down from outside. There is a workshop pegboard just across from the isolation booth's front door that is loaded with what look like miniature TV antennas. You know like the kind of antenna you might see towering over someone's house. We use those to sniff the units for interference. I might be back there doing some of that testing soon. If you're a nerd like I am shit like this is kinda cool to be working with.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Individual Contributors

Deep cuts into our workforce have left hardly anyone still standing in this division. Whole departments have vanished into thin air. The only way you'd even know anyone had been employed here is by looking at the piles of office desks and production workbenches stacked outside in the parking lot. Swing shift is like a ghost town now. There's only a handful of us in the buildings at night. Rumors have spread that this factory will be entirely shut down soon and for those of us still fortunate enough to have a job we will be relocated to another manufacturing site. Upper management hasn't given any details about our next round of layoffs but speculation is the axe will fall hard and the cuts will be much worse than before. This is the true face of offshoring.

We've seen most of our really troubled, poor performing employees kicked out in the first job cuts. That was actually a positive thing because dead weight coworkers held us back. Made the work environment fairly unpleasant at times. Things instantly ran smoother without employees like that mucking up the shop floor every day. I was happy to see pain in the ass people like that finally removed from the area. It was so long overdue. Now what is happening around here is highly skilled employees in critical positions are being tossed out. In many cases there are no replacements for them that have their level of expertise or knowledge in an aspect of our work. Managers hastily shift those responsibilities to other employees who are already overburdened. The expectation is for us to take crash training courses from disgruntled employees. You can't substitute 20 years worth of on the job experience with employees who have never transitioned into jobs like this on short notice. Only a few weeks to train and really understand what they are supposed to be doing isn't anywhere near enough of an effort to be successful.

Company infrastructure and manufacturing support is starting to break down.

Management has angered many of us by eliminating indispensable employees by the dozens and at the same time retain useless, deadbeat low level supervisors. I realize that for each nitwit manager they spare from the axe a few star performing employees could have stayed on with us. Managers are expensive. In comparison skilled production workers aren't. Once you're in the management club though you're almost guaranteed to be taken care of. The big dogs around here have shielded some supervisors from being cut by changing their job description. Instead of being a production line manager they now call them "Individual Contributors." It's a purely made up, abstract job title that means nothing.

Let's say you're a line supervisor and your entire department has been eliminated. You no longer have any employees that report directly to you, there is no manufacturing business for you to oversee anymore. You have no function here and for all reasonable purposes you should be let go. So, you are re-classified by your peers as an Individual Contributor and allowed to sit around all day doing zero. Every once in a while maybe another manager dumps some mundane busy work project or mindless task in your lap that nobody else on the management team wants to do. The rest is cake. You get to collect your pay and do practically nothing. It must be nice.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Boozealler

Greasy Guy has been back from Malaysia for a couple of months. Everything in the environmental lab is totally jacked up again thanks to his bullshit. It's amazing how clueless he is. Greasy Guy makes the worst decisions and can't manage his time. Another round of recent layoffs hit us hard. We lost Mr. McConvict and another helper back here so it's pretty much been up to me to struggle with the test schedule. We had an older woman who was in bad health trying to assist us but she didn't like the work. I think she was starting to get hurt trying to load and unload instruments from temperature chambers so I cut a deal with her. As soon as supervisors left for the day each afternoon I said she could sneak up to forward flow and test boxes over there. I'd cover the chamber area. That way she was more comfortable and I wasn't tripping over her every night.

There's a new Signal Generator coming out of the R&D labs shortly so we have to get ready to take that on in addition to all the other stuff. Ugh. Management wants Greasy Guy to go back to Malaysia again for another three month assignment. I'm looking forward to that. Get him the hell out of here please. Before he heads overseas the bossman has assigned a desk jockey to train with us in Mini-Rel. That's cool, I can use the help. But this particular person they've chosen is kind of a dunce. Not sure if he's gonna work well with this.

I call him Boozealler. He was hired in a few years back as a production worker. Lowly manufacturing on the shop floor wasn't his speed so he's been ass kissing his way up the supervisor food chain into more and more clerical work. He's one of those people who wants the high paying desk job but apparently doesn't have any formal schooling to get him there. I've seen this happen many times before. Guys like him weasel their way into a paperwork job after not being worth a shit as an assembler. Then they end up being a mediocre administrator or get involved with some obscure support job. Boozealler has the extra advantage of having a relative who is in management. I think his father works here in some other department so with his pop's influence Boozealler will probably get what he wants. Oh yeah, one thing I noticed about Boozealler is his skin looks like it's slowly oxidizing. It's like he's covered in white rust. Real weird. He starts learning the Mini-Rel test process with Greasy Guy and myself in the chamber area this week.

Monday, September 18, 2006

One World, One Team

Company slogans. Just can't get enough of them around here.

The latest retarded corporate jingle to come from our CEO's office is "One World, One Team." It refers specifically to the increasing amount of infrastructure and growing number of employees in Malaysia. With thousands of American workers being laid off from the company throughout the US their jobs are transferred overseas. Malay step in to replace them for a fraction of the cost. Same jobs, same type of work. Naturally there has been a high amount of negativity and backlash from our people in divisions here about this. So to try to smooth things over a new company slogan was needed...

Here's how One World, One Team is really working out.

Stateside, Mid level management is leary of dealing with their Malay counterparts. They have deliberately been withholding key information from the Malay so they have to depend on us for certain logistical aspects of production. Managers here have also been trying to overwhelm portions of our Malaysia division by forcing them to accept an excessive amount of orders. Their plan is to bury them in so much work they can't possibly handle it and meet critical shipment deadlines. Hoping that they will fail consistently for months in a row US production managers can then raise the issue with corporate and say, "see Malay can't handle it so we have to bring work back immediately." This could easily backfire. If by some miracle the Malay pull it off more work might be sent offshore rapidly causing further rounds of layoffs here.

Over in Malaysia clever managers there have found an effective way to cripple production lines in the US. What they have been doing is order every kind of part and supply available even if they have no use for the items any time soon. All of their PC boards, components, hardware, etc. are stocked in American divisions. When they place an order our warehouse guys have to pack it up and ship them out. From a cost of shipping standpoint it doesn't seem to make much sense. Especially when you consider freight is traveling halfway around the world daily instead of between divisions in the same county. Whatever. Anyway the Malay will clean us out of parts and then instrument production lines here run out. Everything comes to a screeching halt. Ordering systems have been implemented to prevent the Malay from swiping everything but they either don't work properly or the Malay have already figured out work-arounds to get what they want.

When we force them to send back stuff like circuitboards, the parts we receive are broken. For example all of the boards they return are what we refer to as dogboards. Those are PC boards that have damaged circuit traces and or defective components. Since Malaysian technicians are having severe difficulties troubleshooting problem circuitry they order fresh boards from us and then ship back wrecked replacements as brand new stock. It's fucked up. Not only are US instrument lines shut down due to lack of parts but then when we get those out of stock parts they're junk. It's been driving technicians here to the brink of sanity.

Here's another neato trick the Malay have been pulling lately. Flood the inside of microcircuits with nail polish. There are no company microcircuit lines left in the US. Every single American worker in those departments was wiped out. Now that we depend exclusively upon the Malay for our microcircuits we have no recourse or alternate supplier available. Part of the manufacturing process for microcircuits requires that hardware in the outer case must be secured with an adhesive like Loc-Tite. A single drop on each screw thread is enough. Malay employees have been using nail polish that looks like Loc-Tite. Then they proceed to flood the entire microcircuit cavity with that crap which totally ruins them. Frequently we don't discover this until after an instrument has been built and failed somewhere in the test process. Too late.

Obviously there are ongoing training issues in Malaysia which is directly contributing to some of the mayhem. A solid argument could be made that the substandard level of training Malay have been given is our fault. After all, that is a large part of our responsibility. Corporate has been treating our Malaysian workforce very poorly in my opinion. This is what we get as a result. Not entirely surprising to me.

So there you have it. One World, One Team. Pretty cool, ain't it?

Monday, September 11, 2006

GSA Contracts

Sneaking around in order databases and spying on our manufacturing operation in Malaysia has been relatively easy. Thanks to a few employees who have given me their account logins I have been able to identify numerous customer orders from various branches of the US military. I know which service has purchased specific kinds of products, each instrument serial number, and the expected shipment date. With this information I simply watch for each unit serial number to appear as work in progress at our Malaysia factory. Keeping in mind only 49% of each US Government rated order can be manufactured in Malaysia I should observe very little assembly work being performed on these boxes there. They should be spending most of their time in the testing process. However if I see that these units are being built from scratch and going all the way through the process then being re-serialized as a Singapore built unit then I know for sure our overseas divisions are up to no good.

My plan is to gather a minimum six months worth of hard evidence if we are in fact breaking federal laws. That way nobody in our corporate offices can claim ignorance or say "Oops. We made a mistake there sorry Uncle Sam." I want those fuckers to burn.

Unfortunately due to a colossal amount of incompetence at various US Government agencies including the DoD Inspector General's office, I haven't been able to get a yes or no answer to a straightforward question. Is it illegal under current federal laws for our company to be producing instruments for the military at our Malaysia factory? I haven't been able to find out, so I might be wasting my time.

For every kind of product and service we provide to the US Government we must have a contract that specifically states the rules on what we can and cannot do. We literally have thousands of different kinds of electronic test and measurement instruments that are used for Radar Surveillance, Electronic Warfare, Homeland Security, and Signals Acquisition (interception and eavesdropping). So that means every model of product has to have a government contract for how we manufacture it and a separate contract with the government for providing repair and servicing of that product. These contracts are called General Services Administration Contracts (GSA). When I get home from work each night I have been looking up and reading through our GSA contracts. They're a nightmare of legal gibberish. Each of our contracts are generally about 80 pages in length and so far I haven't been able to find anything in them concerning countries that are off limits for building government rated orders. It's been a tiresome pain in the ass.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

1.20.2004

I did not read your message. Reason - I did not want any more turmoil in my head. Mom is enough for me to deal with, and all that I can handle.

I promised your sister that I would not write you anymore, and this is a violation of that promise. I will have to tell her.

I guess that you sent someone out to our house to investigate something. Turned out to be a very nice lady, and we invited her in for coffee. She actually connected me with some sources of day care.

If I can repeat myself - your mother is not being abused, and I will allow you any private access to Mom to decide for yourself. Please consider this. Your not talking with Mom, other than a few seconds on her Birthday is very hard on her.

We are up to our ears in many areas. I have retained a very expensive Attorney, only to help us with Mom's qualifying for Medicaid. Nothing More ! I did mention that there may be some future "War" within the family. His suggestion - Better for all, especially Mom to smoke the family "Peace Pipe". I saw some wisdom in that, and especially for Mom's sake.

Mom is quite frantic over the possibility of a family feud ( court ) and is more than upset. She asked me to call your Aunt ( for her )a week or so ago, and I should have been smarter than that. It was dumb on my part, as all she did was get hysterical and cry. I then get on the phone and your Aunt jumps on me.

I have no interest in bothering your Aunt and Uncle. I do jog a different route, now due to the Winter and dangerous streets. That route is now shorter, and I had used two Cul de Sacs, to lengthen the run. Theirs was one. I have stopped going in there, as I never intended on confronting your Aunt or bothering her. I saw her a couple of times, and never looked at her or said a word, or made eye contact. I now bypass her Cul de Sac, and use the next one.

The next year or so, maybe two, will take every ounce of strength that I have to get Mom through and maybe one day into a home. The money that I managed to save for Mom, has already come in handy, as the Attorney was very expensive $5500 - up front.

I don't know what your current plans are, and my/our life is too messed up to consider other things. I hope that the "Peace Pipe" is something that can be considered for Mom's sake.

Your Aunt aksed us to move, and I actually considered that, and sought out a Real Estate agent. I do not like it here. The agent however, showed me in black and white that this area was the worst choice of all. Our appreciation on the home has been very little if anything, and would take a minimum of six months to possibly sell. We are stuck.

I do not wish to be in anyone's face, or bother anyone (including you ) with our plight, and problems. I will do the best that I can. Your sister has asked to be in the middle of all of this and I am informing her of everything. The Attorney advised against changing the Power of Attorney to someone else due to Mom's not even being able to write a decent "X" at this point. So, her competency now, is actually in question. The Attorney suggested the "Peace Pipe" and having whatever family members included in all decisions. That includes you.

I am still waiting for a registered nurse up here, to give me a list of day care people ( I will call her today ) that are qualified to care for Mom. The lady from the agency you called, sent a packet of information on day care. She is a very nice lady. The weather up here has been just awful, and even if I were free to do so, not much to do. Snow, and ice.

Maybe you and your sister can talk more often, and my standing offer of a free round trip plane ticket still stands for either you or her.

Dad

1.9.2004

I guess that your perceptions are too difficult to shake. As far as "coaxing Mom". I do not, and never have. We have lived together for many years, and I simply try to help her speak. I have never "Allowed her or dis-allowed " her to speak to anyone. She wanted to talk with your Aunt the other day - I dialed the number for her ( but did not want to ). Mom talks with her God Mother Denzel in San Francisco, and frequently she stumbles for words, and I help her. I do not try to manipulate your mothers conversations. She can say whatever she wants. I invite you to call her, have an Attorney on the line with you, and ask her anything you wish. I will leave the house. You will find the conversation to be nearly impossible, unless maybe you catch her early in the morning.

Your Mother is NOT being "Abused" "Coaxed", or "Manipulated", in any way or fashion.
I suspect that your resources are limited, and the your Aunt will assist you with that. If you would like to have an Attorney come over and interview your mother, in my absence, be my guest. I doubt that nothing less than a "Media" Circus, would satisfy you. Your mother wishes to stay at home here. It is all that she has left in life. Her house her comfort, etc.

How about your thoughts as to what she needs ? What type of care does she need ? How many hours a day ? Do you want her to forcibly, against her will, be put into a home ? If I can work with your suggestions, I will try and do so. What type of help would satisfy you ??

In very real terms, our Retirement money is very limited. Most of what we have is invested, and about 1/3 of that belongs to the Feds in Taxes. If you want Mom in a home, say so. If you want Mom with round the clock care, by a professional nurse, than we have a scenario that will "Eat us Alive", and a home may be the way to go. The cash that I have saved, will last about 4+ months, and then we are into "Investments". Less if I see the Elder Law Attorney, and initiate Medicaid.( $6500 )

I just spoke with our Attorney ( a few minutes ago ) that did our initial legal work up here. He is coming by a 6:00 this evening, just to discuss a few matters. I told Mom about what was going on, and that there may be "Care" coming into our home . Mom went into instant crying and hysteria, and said that she wants to be left alone, especially by you and your Aunt. She does not want to be manipulated to do what you want. Nor does she want influence on her life by you. Mom said this morning that " She would kill herself, rather than be pushed around by you" ! NOW ! If you think that I am coercing your mother into making statements, or controlling her dialogue, I will pay for your round trip flight up here, to spend some time with your mother. You can ask her anything you wish, take her with you for a day, anything at all.

I am sorry that I wrote E-Mails to you with my head "spinning " most of the time. One of my closest Fire Dept friends that has remained my friend throughout all of this, recognizes that I am up and down emotionally, and also knows that most people would be. Hey, it's one of life's worse nightmares ! My life ,and your mothers, has been destroyed, by not one, but two illnesses - one if not both will be fatal.

So, I invite you to come up and see your mother at my/our expense. Round trip airfare on us. I will pay for a motel, whatever you want. Just come up and see your Mom, and get the whole picture from Mom herself. And you can question her all you want. Look for Bruises, question her doctor. I will make an appointment for you. Question our neighbors, question the waiters and waitresses that we have become friends with. You owe this much to your mother. You have seen her so little, called her so infrequently, and yet are able to judge her care. Curious ??

The only time that Mom was hurt up here, she was with your Aunt. She fell at Penny's. Mom does not fall with me, as I hold on to her. WE traverse snow an ice together, and no spills.

A few minutes ago, this letter was interupted by a couple that we know and like very much. They are Hispanic, and the wife would be happy to spend a couple of days a week with Mom for "openers", so that I can get a breather. She drives, has a car, and is very sweet. Not a stranger.

I do not recall anyone asking me what I would like, but, right now it would be for family members to just leave us alone.

I do not hate you, but, I expect that you have a great dislike or hatred for me. My goal, is to care for Mom, protect her wishes, and represent her in all matters. She designated me to do so, and I will abide by her wishes.

Dad

Saturday, September 09, 2006

1.8.2004

Heard that your computer took a shit. Hope that you get it fixed. Thought that you just pulled the plug on E-Mail.

I am going to take your advice on several fronts. Mom just within the past week, has really slipped a bunch. I need a rest, some R&R, and get my head on straight.

I was going to pursue Medicaid, but that is the end of the Estate for you and your sister. I have changed nothing. Who knows what will happen ?? I certainly do not. I am trying to find either Philipino or Mexican help with references. The Mexican help is through a family that owns about 5 restaurants up here. They are as honest as people can get. I will pay under the table, which is a help to most of them anyhow, and it helps me, except for a tax writeoff. I will start with 8 hour days, and then see what is really required. Some friends did this with their Dad, and the Philipino woman was wonderful. I figure that I can maintain Mom in good comfortable condition at home here for quite some time. If a nurse is required, then I will have to go that direction. If I need 24 hour care then I will do what is required. I may need to put Mom in a home at one point, but, will do so on my own, without Medicaid. If I request Medicaid help, it is the end of our house for you and your sister. In other words, there is no point in being premature with Medicaid, I cannot undo Medicaid. When I am down to the bottom of our barrel, then I will have to do what is necessary. I have talked this over with friends and they all agree on this course.

Thanks for calling Mom, it was a help. The party was pleasant, and we found things to laugh about. The people were just "super" to Mom. and very Loving. About a dozen or more showed up, and, No "Dorks" invited. Today I went over to another neighbor and borrowed her puppy toy Pomeranian. Mom played with that dog for two hours, and the dog wore out Mom. Mom loves the dog, but, found out that they are too "hyper" for her. No Dogs ! Thank God !

I heard a horrible noise in my driveway today, and it was yet another neighbor with a snow blower. We had a foot of powder in the driveway. If you drive over it, it is then ice. So, I got some clothes on and helped him. We did about 12 homes in a couple of hours. We got a LOT of Thank You's. Even Mom came out and watched for a few minutes.

Sent some photo's to Autumn for you. Mom's #57, snow, and the little dog.

Took Mom to Wells Fargo yesterday,to sign the signature card for the safe deposit box. She just scribbled, but it is her signature now. Also will put a "tidy" bit of money back into savings. Will explain that one to you, one day on the phone, and it came from an Attorney.

I would send you the photo's that I sent Autumn, but, it might screw up your machine. She'll show them to you.

Dad


I have a backup PC that I have been using for a few weeks. It's always good to have a spare around. The motherboard on my good PC has a number of blown capacitors. It shouldn't take me much time to repair, I just haven't gotten around to it.

I haven't pulled the plug on any email. I have received everything you sent.

It is good you are finally getting some help for Mom on a daily basis at home. However I don't think getting under the table help as you put it is the way to go about it. You need professional help for Mom, as well as yourself. I still think you can find part time help and I suspect you just haven't put that much effort into the search. I will try to find you some more options this week.

I am not interested in money, I am not interested in what is in your will or trust or whatever you've worked out. If you have resources at your disposal to make your situation more comfortable and Mom's care better by all means use it. That's what it is there for. Whatever you may or may not leave behind is not a concern. Mom's immediate situation is a concern.

The phone calls during the past week really angered me. I know Mom cannot call out from your place unless you allow her to do so. I know you were coaxing her at least twice during the calls because I could hear you in the background trying to get her to say things. Do not manipulate her. You aren't fooling anyone so stop trying.

As for my recent email that you supposedly showed to Mom I have a clear conscience, your guilt trip failed quite miserably. If she was upset after reading that one just think how upset she will be if I show her just two of your now infamous *divorce* emails. I can play your game and play it well. So watch your step. Also you can cut the small talk crap. I know you don't give a shit about anything going on with myself or my sister as you've never been much interested anyway.

We're down to brass tacks at this point, no need to hide it. Just want to make sure we're all clear and on the same page here.

Friday, September 08, 2006

The Zaca

Among my father's nasty habits there's one particular thing he does that really makes me angry. Whenever Dad gets his hands on anything that belongs to my mother's side of the family he snags it for himself. Doesn't matter if it's antique furniture, books, photos, or whatever. If he doesn't personally care for an item he'll ditch it either by giving it away to someone he knows or selling it for practically nothing. He never asks my Aunt if that's okay with her nor does he offer the stuff to my sister or myself. Thanks to him we've lost a large amount of family belongings. Other times he uses family heirlooms like they are bait. Stuff that Mom wanted my sister and I to have when she's no longer with us are being confiscated by Dad. He's been making recent claims that Mom has changed her mind about leaving us some specific things. I suspect Dad is either making that shit up or he's manipulated Mom to it. Makes me crazy just thinking about it.

My Grandfather Hugo had a rather large collection of books many of which date back to the early 1700s. There's some impressive stuff in his library which Mom inherited and then Dad quickly appropriated. One of the more unusual items was a seven volume photo history of a black sailing ship called The Zaca. Hugo had a close friend named Garland Rotch and for some reason unknown to us Hugo ended up with most of Garland's personal belongings. This included those seven books, a Zaca crew ring, and dozens of tribal artifacts from the South Pacific like daggers and wooden clubs. Nobody in the family knew anything about Garland or this ship and as the years slipped by it's mysterious past became more intriguing to Mom. I enjoy history and I like a good mystery so I decided to take The Zaca on as a project and do some research for her.

At the time I had a good friend who was a manager and captain working for the Maritime Museum in San Francisco. After talking with him about the ship and mentioning Garland's books he invited me to spend some time in the Museum's research library at Fort Mason in San Francisco. Fort Mason is located right next door to the St. Francis Yacht Club in the city's Marina district. I knew exactly where it was and drove there after making an appointment with the Museum's library staff. Once I arrived the librarians were very helpful with locating any information concerning The Zaca. What I learned that day really surprised me.

In the late 1920s one of San Francisco's wealthiest men desired to have a custom built racing yacht. His name was Templeton Crocker. Mr. Crocker employed Garland Rotch to design and build a schooner worthy of round-the-world sailing and endurance racing. Garland chose the Nunes Bros. shipyard in Sausalito to construct the ship. At a total cost of $200,000 and christened "Zaca" (a Native American word which means "Peace") the ship was completed and passing it's first sea trials along the California coast by 1930. Mr. Crocker chose to have The Zaca painted black above the water line which gave his made to order yacht a sleek yet ominous appearance. Garland Rotch was The Zaca's first captain.

During the summer of 1930 Mr. Crocker made a historic journey with The Zaca. It was the first time a private yacht circumnavigated the globe from the West Coast. The crew included about a dozen professional sailors as well as a photographer and of course, Garland. It was a good thing Mr. Crocker invited Garland along for their year long trip around the world because while they were in the South Pacific Templeton Crocker fired Zaca's captain. Garland resumed those duties immediately afterward and remained as captain for the rest of their cruise. Upon returning to San Francisco Mr. Crocker published a book about his adventure simply titled, "The Cruise of the Zaca" which was published in 1933. As I turned through that book's pages in the Maritime Museum's library a chill went up my spine. All of the photos in "The Cruise of the Zaca" were in Garland's seven volumes of books at home. I instantly recognized them.

Templeton Crocker continued to sail The Zaca until World War Two broke out. Because of fear that the Japanese might attack California and due to a lack of available patrol ships the US Navy seized all privately owned ships over 70 feet in length. The Zaca was 118 feet long. Rapidly converted for military use ships like Zaca were outfitted with anti aircraft machine guns and stationed off the California coast to patrol for enemy ships and rescue downed pilots. When the war ended Zaca was in poor shape and auctioned off for a mere $14,350. In most cases the US Navy did not return private ships back to their original owners. Star actor Errol Flynn, known for his roles as a swashbuckling hero later purchased The Zaca (while drunk as usual) and had a complete restoration of the ship completed. By the time of his death in 1959 Zaca was once again in bad shape and left to rot somewhere along the coast of Spain.

1.7.2004

Basically Mom is furious with you, and does not want you to have ANY of the Zaca stuff, especially the ring. Her wishes, brought up at dinner tonight. She feels that you do not give a "Rats Ass" about her, and are confirming her opinion.

Dad

Shades Of Abuse

My father has few friends left. One of the long time friends Dad still talks to is a real nice guy named Ron. I've always liked him. Ron actually gave me my first job when I was a kid. I worked part time in Ron's custom hotrod shop helping to prep cars for the spray paint booth. Unfortunately I was too young at the time to realize or appreciate what a cool opportunity I had been given and take advantage of it. Anyway, as the years passed Ron became a family friend. Honestly I don't know why Ron has continued to hang out with Dad.

Ron has some trouble at home with his wife. Sometimes Dad and Ron talk about their experiences. I'm sure it helps both of them get through some tough times. The only similarity both Dad and Ron have is that their spouses are sick. Circumstances are very different in Dad's household and that's something he doesn't understand at all. See, Ron's wife has mental problems. As long as she takes her medication things are manageable. That doesn't mean it's any easier for Ron, but they get by. Also his wife is not terminally ill. When she refuses to take her meds Ron's wife is a serious mess. She's pushed Ron to the edge a few times and he has considered divorcing her to save himself from going insane.

After talking with Ron about his family problems Dad got it into his head that he too could divorce his wife. My father doesn't appear to realize that Mom's illness is much more serious than the plight Ron suffers through with his wife. Dad got the idea from Ron to ditch Mom just because she's sick. This is when she needs her husband the most and all Dad can think of is skipping out on her. I think that's got to be one of the most fucked up things I've ever had my father talk to me about.

Ron only knows what Dad tells him and that ain't much.

One of the things I have quickly discovered is that as long as a person doesn't have any signs of physical abuse no abuse must be taking place. It seems from a legal standpoint or view, emotional and mental abuse doesn't exist. Even if it did and could be proven in a court case nobody seems to care. Behind closed doors Dad continues to treat Mom like she's junk. He's completely oppressive and mean to her most of the time. When strangers or family friends are around Dad turns on his caring husband act which most people instantly fall for.

Dad's latest tactic is to tell Mom over and over again that I am going to force her into a nursing home. By lying to her about the truth he's been able to manipulate Mom into having less and less contact with the rest of us. Makes things easier for Dad to act with impunity. I am not trying to place my mother into a long term care nursing home right now. What I am trying to do is get Dad to clean up his act and be more proactive about keeping Mom comfortable and happy. I want him to stop mistreating her and get a professional nurse in the house a few days a week. That is reasonable and it's what I expected should have happened a long time ago. Dad continues to refuse to hire someone to help. Again this comes down to not wanting to spend any of *his* money.

My father didn't even know about Medicaid until I brought it up. Funny how short and selective his memory has become.

Well, I'm sure Dad will hit me with even more retarded cheap shots and insults the longer this situation goes on. Too bad he can't come up with anything more original or creative. Loser.

1.6.2004

This will be my last attempt to make any sense with you. I spoke with Ron, and told him of your comments regarding my saving money for Mom -"hoarding Money", "Deplorable", etc. Ron could not believe your train of thought, and it boggles my own mind. I sold my Motorcycle to add to this money. It is Mom's.

If you were familiar with Medicaid, and how ruthless they are with one's assetts, you might understand what I was trying to do. Based on a suggestion from yet another Attorney, over a month ago. Your thinking is based on ignorance, and not on how the system works.

As of this morning, Mom arose crying about,"how could her kids do this to her". She has spent two days extremely unhappy, crying, and the like. To be honest with you, at this point I wish that we had no family, no confusion, and could be left alone.

I could come up with many documents as to Mom's level of care. As far as your term of "my abusing the Fuck out of Mom", is concerned, it is very far from the truth. Frustrations, have been many for her and myself. She has been upset at times, and upsets very easily. So she goes over to her sister's ( not any more ) but did on occaision.

Mom asked me to call your aunt yesterday, and all Mom did was cry on the phone. She was not crying about anything that I did , but rather the "abuse" that you may be willing to put her through. She is scared to death, does not want to go into a home, and that is fine with me. You have found fault with just about everything that I have done, or did not do. What you do not know is that your mother has resisted all attempts at in house help, and would rather die than wind up in a Long Term Home.

Let me bring you up to speed. I will eventually lose everything that I have worked hard for. I do not have an illness, but, will have to pay the price due to Mom's illness, and that we are married. An Elder Law Attorney could help me to have a house to live in, and at my death, the house would belong to Medicaid.

I have not seen a plan from you for Mom's benefit. You have seen her so little, and talked less, that you could not know her requirements. I am not afraid of going to court against you, but, it will be Mom, that you will be upsetting and hurting the most. Unless you are just interested in doing dirty laundry in public.

So, in the absense of a plan from you ( other than I/WE need help ), why don't you tell me what will work ? Or, are you just going to try and stuff her in a home someplace ? A stranger for an 8 hour day is $160 -once a week is $680 out of our pockets for what ?? You have repeatedly given me generic instructions to get help, but, have no idea for what you are asking. Easy to do from 700 miles away, and also having not a cent of financial responsibility. So what am I to do ?? Hire some mexican girl to watch Mom, and go skiing ? Have help every day to the tune of $3600 per month ( 8 hour day - 20 days ). How about a plan from you, that will satisfy you. Mom has ( 3 ) Medical Insurance Policies that I pay for, none of them cover Long Term Care. You cannot get Long Term Care once a diagnosis is made ofAD.

You probably don't remember, but your aunt and mother were doing the same thing to grandma. Waiting to see when she just could not be alone any more. Neither one of them lived with her but, I do live with Mom.

Grandma lit herself on fire by accident. Were the girls to blame ? I think that they partially were at fault, for not recognizing the seriousness of her Alzheimer's.

Many people have visited us, many Dr's have seen Mom, and she is not getting abused. Many people know us better than you do, and that is all too obvious. Many neighbors have seen Mom over the past few years, and find that I try my very best with her. It took me a while to get used to the idea that our lives were changed forever, and that most of the things that we used to do, we can no longer do.

Traveling by car is impossible now, unless it is by motorhome. Traveling toilet !

Why don't you try calling Mom on the phone and talking with her yourself. It's been a very long time since her "caring" son has called her. I'll leave the house and you can ask your mother anything you want. Abuse, anything at all. Mom faces the possibilty of the return of Cancer. Not etched in stone, but, possible. Would a phone call to her be out of line ?? So far, you missed calling her on Thankgiving, Christmas, New Years, and in a few days, her 57th Birthday. Wonder what a judge would think about your lack of contact, concern? About your very strange perceptions with money ? Having a mother with AD, and Breast Cancer, and not taking time to call her with the simplest wish. You don't have to talk with me, as I would be glad to give the phone to your Mom, and give whatever privacy she needs.

Why don't you do something constructive, and present a plan for Mom's welfare. Something that we can discuss as you will not be paying for it. I personally do not feel that a home is the place for her yet. Maybe one day when she does not know any of us. She made me promise that I would not put her in a home, and that she could just die at our house..

So, there is much that you know nothing about. Come up with a plan for Mom that I can work with, or act out of "Hatred" and drag your Mom into a mess. Also in a last comment, I do not like being "Warned", especially by a person that cannot responsibly pay their own bills. Your admission ! If you can come up with a plan that is feasible, provides whatever it is that you think we need, than we can talk about it. You never offered "extensive talk" on the subject, just that I/WE need help.

Dad

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Explaining About Dad

My parents house that I grew up in was by no means a dump as my Dad likes to call it. If you imagine upper class Brady Bunch style 1970s housing tracts you'll pretty much have a close visual idea of what our house was like. The house was a large two story place on a corner lot. It had just about everything a family could want in a house including a big in-ground swimming pool in the back yard. Dad always complained about living there, because no matter what he has it's never good enough. He could roll up in a brand new Ferrari and if you told him how nice his car was, he'd say in a gruff tone of voice, "Ah that thing is a piece of shit." He's like that with everything, including stuff he's made with his own two hands. Dad is a skilled guy with talent for woodworking. In his spare time he builds beautiful acoustic guitars geared towards playing classical music. If you compliment his work he'll say it's garbage. That kind of seems strange to most people. After a while people don't talk to him much about his projects and try to avoid him altogether.

At work I have to constantly stay focused on what I'm doing. My job requires me to be extremely detail oriented. Usually when I start my shift each evening I tune out most aspects of my personal life, family problems etc. I can't afford the distraction. If I dwell on family stuff or if Autumn is upset with me for some reason I can't think at work and everything quickly turns to shit. Making mistakes on the job can cost us dearly. Lost test time and possibly damaging hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of brand new equipment. In order to minimize any kind of distraction created by Dad I have deliberately kept him in the dark about my daily hours at work and what my phone extension is. If he had my work number I know what will happen. Dad will call incessantly just to push my buttons and rile me up. I don't need that.

Because my father enjoys cutting me down more often than not I stopped talking to him about what is going on in my life at any given time. When I told him personal details he'd remember them and twist them all around in his mind then use that information to beat me down. I slipped up a while ago when I told him Autumn didn't want to move in with me. He used that as another example of what an idiot I am. At the time when I talked to him about Autumn's decision, I was completely frustrated with her and I guess I didn't have anyone else to talk to about it. I should have kept my mouth shut. The funny thing is Autumn is just as financially irresponsible as I am at times. Maybe even worse. Her excuse for not wanting to live together didn't carry much weight. She just didn't want to make it happen and any excuse was good enough for her to weasel out of it.

I admit, I do have trouble managing my money. It's probably my greatest weakness that I need to work on. What Dad doesn't know is I have put away $40,000. If I need to I'll use that to retain lawyers. My aunt and uncle have nothing to do with backing me to go to court against my father. That's just his persecution complex doing the talking. In fact my aunt and uncle don't know much about what I'm up to. I'm going to keep it that way. The one thing I have asked them to do is send me any handwritten letters Dad has been putting in their mailbox. For months he's been harassing them by leaving mean spirited letters for them to read. When you read his crap you can tell some nutjob was behind it. I figured those letters might be useful in court so I asked for them. I have quite a pile sitting here now...

I enjoy shooting. Guns are one of my hobbies. I don't go hunting or anything like that. Mostly all I like to do is bring targets out to a range and blast away at 'em. Machine guns are what I prefer to plink with so a few years ago I picked up a couple. That's what Dad's AK47 comment was about in case you were wondering. I know some people are creeped out by those kind of weapons and others think it's real weird. For me it's mainly a convenience issue. Why stop every couple of minutes to put another five rounds into a rifle when I can just slap in a thirty round magazine and rip shit up? Anyway it's fun. Don't knock it 'till ya try it.

Dad doesn't know I have been talking to Mom's doctors and some of his neighbors on the down low for quite a while.

Talking to Mom has been tough. She doesn't remember how to use the phone anymore. To make things easier for her we programmed in our phone numbers so Mom could call me or my sister with the push of a single button. The phone would auto dial for her. Dad apparently went into the phone's settings and nuked all of the pre-programmed numbers which I thought was suspicious. He claimed "She didn't know how to use the damn thing anyway." Since then all incoming calls have to go through him first. With outgoing calls Dad dials for my mother and then hands her the headset. A few times I've heard Dad whispering what to say to Mom before she says the exact same stuff. He's been coaching her to tell me some really messed up stuff that I know she would never say on her own. That's been another of my top concerns that something is terribly wrong.

Instead of hiring a professional to help around the house with watching Mom so Dad can skip out for a break, his idea is to try to hire dishwashers from Mexican restaurants. He wants to bring in unprofessional people with no background in health services or medicine at rock bottom under the table hourly wages. That way it doesn't cost him much. The cheap fuck. We have all been vehemently against this, including Mom herself. That's why she has been fighting Dad about bringing in outside assistance. If he would simply pay for a real nurse trained to deal with Alzheimer's patients that would be a different story.

Recently Dad got particularly mouthy with me over the phone. I mentioned his mouth has been getting him into trouble in his neighborhood and I told him the story about almost getting his ass kicked by the Chief of Police. As I figured that didn't go over well with him. I thought it was amusing Dad wants to brawl the guy. I'd pay good money to watch him get his ass handed to him in a fight and then be placed under arrest for assaulting an officer. I'd probably laugh so hard that I would piss myself. See that's another one of Dad's ego problems. Even though he's into his sixties now he still views himself as a 1950s tough guy like Mike Hammer or some shit. It's a corny front I wish he'd drop because down underneath it all he's a big sissy.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

1.5.2004

Mom and I had not finished our Financial Planning, and I needed to see one more really good Attorney. And by the way, I meant to say Medicaid, when our money runs out. Anyway this Attorney calls this afternoon. We speak briefly, and I generally tell him where we are at, and That we need a few good answers. He proceeds to tell me that the AD married couple is the worst scenario that there is , and I/we will be broke at the end. I already knew that. Guess what his fee is for helping Mom file for Medicaid, and assisting us with various legal papers ? $6500 up front, on his desk. Now, I happen to have $6500, because I made an effort to save money. You are probably the only person on the face of this earth that could, or would, call that "deplorable". As you have never saved money in your life ( savings ), you would not know how hard it is. If I bought a dozen AK47's, would that have been a better move ?

Mom shorted out today, and asked me to call your aunt for her. Mistake ! Mom knows that all your info comes from your aunt, and she doesn't want to see her again. She feels the same way about you. She would like to move and see none of you again. If I could help her achieve that goal, I would. However, moving at this time, is not possible. I did see a Real Estate person today, and they appraised our house. This golf course is the Last place that anyone wants to move to. It is not a hot spot at all. It is one of the worst, and least desirable, according to the Real Estate fellow that your aunt also knows. Highest Taxes also. Would be next to impossible to break even in over two years. I would love to accommodate her and move, but it ain't gonna happen.

I'm throwing a Birthday party for Mom. Been planning it for a couple of months. If you cared about her, you'd call. Christmas too !


Dad

1.4.2004

What do you know about Medicare ? Medicare for a married couple is the financial ruin. You continue to make comments about my "hording" cash, and outliving my wife. There is every possibility that Mom will outlive me, and frequently, AD patients as young as Mom linger for 10 to 20 years in homes. The money was a conserted effort on my part to "save" for Mom's use. One home up here, will cost around $5700 a month. Then there are extras, that will need to be paid for like prescriptions, diapers, doctors,. etc That is all extra cost per month. My pension will be cut in half. If Mom went into a home today, which she does not want to do, I might be able to handle the financial burden for about three years, then we are "Belly Up" broke. The extra costs, are bills that are sent to me, not your sister or you. So, is it deplorable, that I am trying to "bolster" our assetts in Mom's behalf ??

Would it be better if I spent every nickel on frivilous stuff , and saved nothing ? I took your advice about taking Mom on a cruise, as it would be a difficult endeavor, not to mention the expense. If I thought that Mom could have enjoyed the cruise, I would have said, "Damn the expense".

Mom does not want to go into a home now. This morning she said that she would "kill herself" first. So, I am between what you want me to do, and what Mom does not want to do.

It seems that your "Hatred for me" has replaced any common sense, logic, and good judgement. I have been cutting your mothers food, helping her eat, doing the laundry,taking her to the Hairdressers ( every week ), cleaning the house, paying the bills, etc, for a very long time.

This is no longer , about Mom, it is a "Personal" matter for you. If you in fact cared about Mom, you would have called on Christmas, and Thanksgiving.

Seems like words are no good any more. Do what you have to do. I know that your focus is NOT on helping Mom, but, hurting me if you can.


Dad

1.3.2004

You still don't have your info straight, and probably never will. Sure I have had lack of patience with Mom at times. Who wouldn't. I have helped her a thousand times more than you. Yesterday we took Mom to a show, and it took three of us to get her down from the dimly lit balcony. Thankfully, we were with another couple, and they helped. Then we went to their house for dinner. Mom could not drink out of a tall wine glass, and we got a small one. Every day is geared toward Mom.

My brother doesn't contact ANYONE in his family. Not his Son, who is "Gay", nor his daughter. My mistake was loaning him money which he did not repay. He does not contact me, and disappeared from everyone in his family. He was an embassassment to all. I will never forget your telling me of Autumn's choice to not let you move in with her, as being irresponsible and "flaky" with the paying of bills. My co-signing for you at Circuit City, was the only blemish that I have ever had on my credit. And I'm sure that you never cared enough to tell me.

Now if I am to believe that YOU sought legal help in our area. Quit bullshitting me. You don't have "dime one" and your aunt and uncle are helping and/or paying for the advice and/or help. This is a lot to do with your aunt not liking me, and trying to divide our family. Well that is history.

As Far as "paying the fiddler", if it is now a personal matter, that is your choice.

You mother is VERY pissed off at her sister, and wishes not to talk to her again. Nothing to do with me. If you meddle, in what is left of our life, Mom will be VERYunhappy with you also. Have you talked with any of our close neighbors that we dine with often ?? Have you talked with people that we see often ? Have you talked with your Mom's doctors ? My suspician, is that you have observed a few things, know little, and listened to your aunt a lot. It has been a long and hard adjustment for me. It was a gross error on my part to share my emotional difficulties with you. I too would like to be like my brother Steve, and disappear from my family.

If your planning some sort of a court action, with your aunt at the center, all that you will do is drag Mom through a long mess. I would have to assume that what you really want is to drag ME through a long mess. I have been saving money for the time when your mother will need it the most. I am seeing a last Attorney this week, that specializes in Elder Law. I have many problems with our assetts.

If you wish to talk with some of our friends. Be informed. These people we've seen ten times more than your aunt and uncle, and we go to dinner frequently. My guess is this is now a "Personal Matter", and you will not take the time to talk with anyone except them.

What you are forgetting, is several things. Mom has fought me "tooth and nail" about having someone else in the house. Help is very hard to find help on a part time basis. An 8 hour shift is about $160. And it is an unknown person. Your mother is violently against this.

Another guess is that you wish to add more of an emotional burden to what we already have to deal with. In other words, it is a time to "Get Even". Like I said before, YOU, don't have the resources to do anything, so your aunt and uncle are your team mates. Sort of a "Tag Team".

I let Mom read your letter, and she is crying in the living room.

Do what you have to do.


Dad

1.1.2004

Just for the record. I do not want to be judged as a liar. The info on that letter came from her best friend Kathy. She was laughing when she told me. I would have never known about it, as I am not a "busy body". I know that your aunt had been a real pain to A.M.I. the outfit that does the maintenace work in here. Whom the letter came from, I am not exactly certain, but, it "Rocked" her fragile world. There was a letter putting her in her place, as a "Real Pain in the Ass". 100% Truth. Ask Her !

The Top Cop ? I had one run in with a guy, that could be the Asshole in question. I saw a ball in our yard, went over to pick it up, and some Asshole starts yelling at me from 50 yards away. Am I supposed to know that it was his ball on my property ??

I have given many more balls back to people than I have kept. The Assholes are the exception. This guy was the King of Assholes. #1. this Golf Course is the absolute shits, and I never liked playing it. Didn't play it this year, and would not, even if it was free.
We had words, but, the man was Dead Wrong. Private property is out of bounds, and Golfers are not to trespass, to retrieve balls. So #1. The man was incredibly rude. #2. The man was wrong. #3. He is an Asshole. I did not "Fuck" with the wrong guy,------He did !
He accused me of not having a gate,-----I do have a gate. The gate is not for Golfers, but, Police and Fire. The guy is an idiot, and typical of a "Loud Mouthed Cop" that thinks he can get away with anything. I told him not to yell at me again, he didn't !

I do not expect to talk with you any time soon, but, wanted the facts straight. Your facts are not even close to being straight up. I am on a first name basis with many golfers, and have people stop by to say "Hello" all the time.

You can try and do whatever to me, ----------just DO NOT cause your mother any grief.


Dad

12.31.2003

Mom and I have had a "Rough" couple of years. It has been hard on both of us. I could not believe what I was hearing from you, this morning. You have gone from being my only son, to my worst enemy.

Your aunt has been feeding you garbage, and you are gobbling it up. She is one of the most disliked people in this Sub Division, and was not allowed to sit on the Board of the Homeowners Assoc. They told her to take a "Fucking Hike". She is a known trouble maker. Ask her to show you the letter they sent her. I dare you to ask her ! Find out who is Fucked up around here !

The Top Cop ! I "Fucked with the Wrong Guy ??? Have the Asshole, whomever he is, ring my doorbell for a clarification of who did what to whom. Out of uniform - please, so that your Cowardly father can have a word or two with the gentleman.

Well, -------you upset the shit out of Mom, did not call her on Christmas, and will most likely forget her Birthday. Great son ! I mentioned our conversation to a few neighbors today, and they could not believe their ears. Your solution for making Mom Happy is working just terrific,--a Hell of a job !

You do what you have to do, and bring it on "Full Bore". Don't Fuck Around. As far as I am concerned, and your mother also, you have a new family. The 85# Mouth, and Idaho's answer to Elmer Fudd.

I could go on and on, but, you will not "Get the picture". You're Out, Bring it On !


Dad

Saturday, September 02, 2006

12.29.2003

I asked Mom last night if she wanted me to call you for her ,so that you could talk. She said "NO". I cannot imagine that this is what you want. Maybe you are just tired of both of us, and just want to do your thing. If that is the case, please say so. I would be sorry to hear that, but, it might be the way you feel.

I have made many mistakes in my life, but, never wanted to feel like I was "enemies" with my only son. Have you done everything in your life just perfectly, and every decision was correct ?

It is very difficult to contact you, as your hours are strange to us, and we do not have your work phone #. Mom felt as though no contact on Christmas was deliberate, and sent her a message. Not the usual caring message of Christmas.

I do not know what the future holds, but, I would like to be friends with you. My plans are uncertain at the moment, depending on Mom. If something happens to Mom, in the short term, I am outta Idaho as fast as I can pack boxes. Probably Gardenerville, just over the Sierras from South Shore. Ridden bicycles there many times. It will all hinge on selling this house. It will be tough as homes have not gone up in value here. I would be lucky to break even, in two years. The house across the street from us on Rancho Cabeza went up $200,000 in the last two years. I talked with Verna, and several old neighbors recently.

Coming up here, and thinking that your mother and aunt could become good friends was the stupidest thing I ever did. They can be in the same room, but, close sisters will never happen. I did not really get to know the real personality, until moving up here. You have seen one side of the coin only !! Just for your knowledge - she wanted to be on the Homeowners Association here, "Big Time". She made it known that she was interested in an opening on the board. She was "not so politely" told to take a "fucking hike", as she is well known here as a "trouble maker." I did not even know this, until your aunt got the "Shingles", a nervous stress disorder. Then of course, the whole scenario fit like a glove. She wanted that job so bad, and knew every little infraction that every homeowner had committed. Like fence colors, and the like. Thank God, someone knew about her. So, this whole move to Idaho was a tragic mistake on my part. I do not have any problem admitting my mistakes, however, some of them are not as easy to see.

If you do not want to have any contact with us, just say so. That's easy enough ! I cannot help the way things have gone. I could have done better emotionally, but, was really undone by Mom's several illnesses.

Talked with Ron the other day, he called. And his 94 year old father Walt died the day before. We talked about Christmas, and Ron asked if our kids had come up. I mentioned that your sister had called, but we never heard from you. Ron, goes "Holy Shit", maybe you're the problem. I said ,Ron, I don't doubt that for a second. But, I do not know how to fix it. Ron is very compassionate, and invites phone calls and or E-Mail. His wife was just as bad once, and Ron turned into a pile of Dog Shit. He sat in my living room, with a blank stare in his eyes, and he was besides himself. He had no answers, and was scared shitless. I never found fault in him for that. He almost cried on occaision. Ron was faced with the possibility of divorce, and losing everything. Then, of course, the Court intervenes, tosses Gloria into mandatory custody, and forces Meds down her throat. Gets her well, and releases her back to Ron.

So, where is all of this headed ? What do you want ? If you would like me, or both of us to just "evaporate" and not bother you ? Do you want me to evaporate, and not bother you ? Shortly there will be no point in contacting Mom at all. Do you want one way communications to you only, no communications ?? When Mom dies, are you going to go to her funeral ? Seems sort of rediculous.

I can change my phone #, and E-mail address, and never talk to you again, if that is what you want.

If Mom and I have placed an unwanted burden on you, check this out. I got a phone call one evening from a neighbor, that my Dad was dead. I went over to their house, and had to pick up his brains, pieces of his skull, and blood were all over the room, floor and walls. I cleaned up the room, painted the walls, and repaired the 44 caliber Magnum bullet hole in the wall.

My mother, I reluctantly took care of her, for over twenty years. Many cars, many hospitals, many adverse situations very late at night. Jail time, and I paid for her funeral at the end.

Have Mom and I inflicted this type of burden on you ? While you may not be proud or pleased with either one of us, I don't think that we required too much of you. Maybe you'd disagree with that.

I would hate to move, and not want to have you know where I moved to, and be friends .
This is not a bunch of rhetoric because I am bored and have nothing else to do. Actually, I have a lot to do, and never seem to get caught up. The house has about a half inch of dust on everything and I need to get hopping.

I hope that your aunt will not continue to be a source of influence in your thinking and information. It took me a while to learn that you tell her "nothing at all". No information, no plans, "nothing" !

I hope that you find time to contact Mom. Like I said, I would have tried last night, but, she said "No" ! I do think that she'd like to speak with you, and be aware that she has become quite hard to talk with.

Dad


You just don't get it. I've basically had to write you off. The problem is not people around you. The problem is your thinking, or lack thereof. My aunt and uncle are good people. You continuously have failed to see this. There comes a time in friendships when people have had enough of being belittled, berated, and mistreated. Your brother Steve chooses to not have any contact with you anymore because of the way you treated him. Your brother in law and sister in law choose to not talk to you anymore for the same reason. My sister and myself are in the same boat at times. You've pushed me too far and I've had enough.

I know you won't listen and at this point it's too late anyway. I am going to force a few issues with you in the coming weeks whether you like it or not. I feel I have to help both of you because you are not able to handle it. This is not my opinion it's simply what you have shown me.

You have abused the fuck out of Mom. I will never forget watching you glare at her across the table when she's having trouble with her food. Anyone else would simply just help her cut it. You watch her suffer. You show little to no understanding or compassion for your wife. You have been a worthless caregiver. You continue to horde cash in the hopes of simply outliving your wife and protecting *your* money. I find this to be deplorable.

I have sought legal representation. I have sought help from other resources in your area. I am coming for you... I gave you time to unfuck yourself. You failed, I warned you. I warned you to stop abusing Mom. As I expected you continued.

It's too late, bud. Time to pay the fiddler.