Environmental Fair and Stuff.

Well, I just got back from doing a little help for my cousin at an Environmental Fair in the city of Arcadia. The place is called the LA Arboretum. There were lots of people there. I gave a class this morning to about 40 people. It lasted only a little over an hour. People are mainly interested in backyard composting and worm composting......for their gardens and lawns. I help out when needed....as I have done the last 7 years. It is never very long....and the pay is very little. Several times a year at most. But it beats nothing.

It is nice to be able to talk to people who interested in recycling and conserving resources. It takes my mind off of the troubles I have to face each day......the love I lost.....my career. For a few hours I can escape the harsh realities of the existence that I live.
It is better than just sitting around......getting depressed. The day started out overcast.....but cleared aound 12:30pm. Nice and sunny after that.

So what else is new? Not much....just the same old stuff. The same struggles......the same news.....the drama. It never seems to change much. I can see that it is going to another very long year. Maybe I will win the lotto LOL. Yeah......and pigs will fly tomorrow.
I drove the hell out of my 1988 prelude SI today......hitting about 90 on the 605 freeway......and can you believe it......there were still cars passing me. It is like the Indy 500 when the freeways aren't clogged up. Well......that's all for now. Ciao

Que Lastima!

Yes....what a pity. It is a pity that the spanish I have learned has gone to waste. You wouldn't think so here in LA.....but have you tried to speak spanish to many of the native speakers here. Just because I am a gringo.....they think I know nothing of that idioma.
I try and speak what little I know....but many refuse to and will only speak in english. I used to know much more.....from being in the INS....and then taking intermediate spanish in college. But I have gotten rusty over the years for lack of use. I try and keep up still....and I can read it much better than speak it.

I remember a letter I had given "Anna" way back when.....and I tried writing some spanish to her then. I can only assume she could read it. More than once though...I have surprised native speakers when they found out I knew some of their conversations. Some of it not very flattering at all. It is certainly a bilingual society we live in....especially for the border states. It should be mandatory that all kids get bilingual education if you live in one of the border states. That means teaching non hispanic kids spanish.....starting in grade school. It is only fair. How many jobs have I seen listed where a requirement has been fluently bilingual. Can you imagine how many white, black or asian people don't get hired because they don't speak spanish. Even the federal government has this requirement for certain jobs. You can do excellent at your job....say a border patrol agent or immigration officer.....but is you fail the spanish lanuage portion.....it's bye, bye job.

That's what happened to me. The INS used the excuse that I did not complete the phase 2 spanish language portion.....even though I had excelled in everything else. Had I been a native speaker....they could not have used that excuse to shaft me.
Every single one of the hispanic members of my academy class did not have to attend the follow on phase 2 spanish course....and were all given their graduation certificates for the whole course.
Had I been afforded the same treatment....they would have been unable to withhold my certificates like they did. It really does not seem fair to penalize a person based on their respective heritage and culture. I mean....I passed the exact same courses that all of the native speakers had passed....yet I had to do more to graduate....simply based on the fact that I was anglo and spanish was not part of our hertitage. Whereas, the native speakers had years to learn to be fluent in Spanish....we were expected to learn to be fluent enough to converse in 15 weeks. And then only 5 weeks of that was actually full immersion spanish. Not to mention we had to know everthing else. This was an extra burden that native speakers did not have to worry about knowing. Fair and equal treatment my ass.

I agree that it is important that some positions require knowledge of spanish.....but to force people who have never been really exposed to it before....to learn to converse in such a short period
or else loose your job....is not right. Since most grade schools and middle schools do not teach spanish to non-hispanics....yet they will teach english to hispanic kids....even though some states have outlawed this....seems unfair. Why should native speakers be relieved of a burden imposed on everyone else.....where your job and career are on the line. If schools taught everyone the same...I could see applying this standard.....but the fact is....they don't.
Until there is mandatory spanish taught to all kids in the border states....I think it unfair for the government to impose such draconian limits on employment. Non-native speakers should be given more time to become proficient.....not just for the 15 weeks you get at an academy.....and only 5 weeks are real spanish anyway. How many people are actually learning anything the first 3 months while trying to learn tons of immigration and nationality law, police training and the like. That policy certainly effected my outcome.

Just my 2 cents worth........

The Cars that I have Owned

In a little light hearted musing.....I am going to see if I can recall all of the different cars I have owned over the years. It is not going to be easy....as there have been many. I'll start with the first one i owned in school and work up. I like cars.....old ones, fast ones.....classic muscle cars. OK....let me see how good my memory really is. Starting at Number 1.....

1. 1938 Ford Pickup with an olds 455 motor.
2. 1960 Ford F-100 Pickup. 6 banger with 4 speed.
3. 1968 Chevy El Camino with 327. (high school car)
4. 1974 AMC Matador with 360 motor.
5. 1976 MGB Roadster-convertible.
6. 1971 Datsun 310 2 door.
7. 1975 Ford Gran Torino with 351 motor.
8. 1976 Chevy Nova Sport with 350 motor.
9. 1968 VW Beetle.
10. 1983 Dodge D-50 Pickup.
11. 1986 Mazda B2000 SE Pickup.
12. 1973 AMC Javelin with 360 built motor.
13. 1972 AMC Javelin AMX with 401 and 4 spd.
14. 1970 AMX AMX 2 seater with 360 motor
15. 1970 AMC AMX 2 seater with 390 Go Pac.
16. 1968 Datsun 2000 Roadster customized.
17. 1980 AMC Eagle 4x4 sedan.
18. 1984 VW Rabbit GTI
19. 1987 Mazda B2600 4x4 Pickup. (stolen)
20. 1969 AMC AMX California 500 Special (1 of 52 made)
21. 1965 Datsun 1600 Roadster
22. 1971 Datsun Pickup.
23. 1970 Ford Ranchero 500 with 351C motor.
24. 1970 Ford Ranchero GT with 351C motor. (Calypso Coral)
25. 1991 Honda Civic Hatchback.
26. 1988 Honda Prelude 2.0 SI.
27. 1970 Ford Cobra with 429 Cobra Jet and 4 Speed.

I am sure I left some out....not to mention parts cars and the motorcycles I have owned. As I said....I have had quite a few cars over the years. The most valuable was probably the 1969 AMX California 500 Special. Only 52 were made....all bright green with black racing stripes and saddle leather interior. All had 390 Go Pac setups. The motor in mine was extremely built and was barely streetable.....but what raw horsepower. It was a killer. Had I kept it.....it is worth about 40 grand. Oh well. Those were the days.

Sigh........Remembering a Life Lost in Time

Sigh......I was just checking out some stories online about my old job.
It was with the INS....now it is called the Customs and Border Protection....or CBP for short. Man that brought back alot of good memories. One story even had a photo of one of my classmates I was enrolled with at the Immigration Officers Academy. His name is Louis Munoz....a real nice guy. He looks older now....as it has been 13 years back. He is stationed at the Nogales port of entry. It looks so different to see him in a CBP uniform....rather than the old INS Inspector uniform I remember. I wonder if he would remember me from that time. I sure miss being in that job.....short of the military.....it was the only job I really enjoyed and would give me a sense of purpose and accomplishment.

Where in the hell did I go so wrong? How in the hell did I become such a screw up? What in the hell did God have against me anyway?
I know I am wrong to blame God, but it is just so disheartening to see where I should have been now. Words cannot really express the feelings of having your whole life yanked from under you. Not just your dream job....but the love of your life.....and your future. It is very depressing to think what could have been....and should have been. But for my very bad luck....and bad karma.....it would have been. I guess I was just never meant to have happiness, or love, or success.

I would have gladly sacrificied my career to be with the one I love, even if it was in the middle of nowhere. I would move in a second if I knew that she wanted to see me again. But to sacrifice everything I had....all of my aspirations and possessions for nothing.....that is the hardest thing of all. I cannot express the sadness that I feel most every day. I do not cherish the thought of living my remaining days as a hermit....alone....cold....bitter. But it seems that is what fate has in store for me. I am to be exiled for the rest of my life from my dreams and my love. Why am I made to shoulder such a tremendous burden? I don't understand the punishment I keep receiving. It is as if the task master takes his whip to my flesh each time I stand. The searing pain burns for days...months...years.

Broken, busted and impoverished.....I await the the culimination of the hate and malice that has been poured out against me. I await the inevitable eviction from my small abode....as the street beckons me to join the lifeless masses. Cast off from the dreams and loves they too once had. The American dream is but a figment of my mind now. A once proud warrior....veteran....officer of the realm....cast out of Eden. Banished to the far reaches of the gritty underbelly of society. I will soon grovel in the dirt as does the worm on a hot summer's eve. I will seek communion with those of my kind....the broken hearted, the impoverished, the shamed, the misfits. It seems that is to be my fate. America has no place for the likes of me.
I am a refugee.....wishing I could start life anew in another country. Somewhere where I was unknown, where my name did not breed contempt, where I was not an enemy of the state.

And so I think of what could have been....had fate not been so harsh. I think of my love....working diligently on the lonely Arizona border....wishing I could be there. I think of my classmates....and the jobs they have done...the lives they had led. I think of my own failures....and my fall from grace. I should have been making nearly 70 grand per year by now.....and what did I make last year....not counting 7 grand in unemployment......nothing! If that does not put things into perspective...then nothing will. Skid row has a resevation for me.....an RSVP stamped in gold. I would like to cancel that reservation.....if I could only get the chance. Sigh.....................

THE DAY OF TERROR - Chapter 2

Imagine my surprise when Congress was going to federalize the aviation security screeners. That would be at least 45,000 opportunities to again regain some of what I had before. On paper it sounded good......maybe too good. I applied anyway......and was notified to show up for testing in Los Angeles. The testing consisted of image testing......and a physical test for endurance. It was a very competitive operation.....and over 1.5 million people applied for those positions. As it was.....I was hired on November 11, 2002.....just 14 months to the day after the Twin Tower attacks. My assignment......Los Angeles International Airport, Bradley international terminal. My duties......aviation security baggage screener. After the required training......what little there was......I started to work in what turned out to be a "hell hole".
It was not long after that I found out that the TSA would not fall under regular civil service rules....but would be exempt. No job protections, unions or grievence rights. Not a good way to start a job. But the real killer was the pay banding scheme. The GS system was gone.....and the TSA would open the way for the government to disband the GS system for the rest of the Department of Homeland Security. We were told we were not competitive service...and would never be. Transfers would not be possible to other agencies. Not exactly the system that I thought it would be.

But I was determined to give it my best. I had done my work well....so well that I was appointed acting lead in my unit. The work was long, hard and thankless. Imagine.....if you can......plane after plane of passenegers arriving from foreign ports......all with at least 2 bags, boxes, or items each. According to TSA rules, we were limited to lifting 40 pounds each alone......and in the world of fantasy......that would have been fine. But in the real world.....we were chronically understaffed. It was not possible to get help.....so you would have to lift, carry, drag and throw most bags alone. Many were in excess of 100 pounds each. There was no way to know......as most were never marked. What started out as redemption for my sins of 10 years past......soon became nothing short of endentured servitude. Pack mules would have it easier. How many times did I hear Immigration, or Customs, Officers disparage TSA screeners.....thankful they got the big dollars without the back breaking work. We were the laughing stock of the federal force. Little more than glorified skycaps.....security guards at the most......manual labor to be had on the cheap.

To put it in perspective.....I clearly recall one incident which typified how TSA was viewed by the other federal agencies at LAX. One night several bags were left in our station by Mexicana Airlines. It was late and being lead.....I needed to find a Mexicana representative to get them. The only ones were downstairs......in the Immigration and Customs checkpoints. We were normally not allowed down there. I went down to see if I could locate a rep......and spoke with 2 customs officers. No more than 20 feet away was standing a Mexicana representative. Just as I was going to call her over......a customs supervisor appeared and asked me what I was doing. I explained and she became very rude.....saying I could not have their representatives and they were not going to help me. As I turned to go upstairs.......the customs supervisor turned to her 2 subordinates and pointed at the shoulderboard she had on.....wiping it with the back of her hand, as she bluntly proclaimed "they have none of these, they are not officer corp". I could feel the ice in her voice. I could see the hatred on her face. So much for the team work and cooperation that was supposed to exist. The DHS had a very long road ahead of it before integration would ever work. I was disillusioned by the status Congress allowed for the TSA screening force.....yet I continued to perform my duties as best I could. Sweating day in......and day out......lifting and carrying bags of unbelievable weight. Checking those bags....full of mystery compounds, sharp objects.....and possible bombs. Full of rotting food......strange insects.....and dirty underwear.

And so it was for the next 6 months.....day after day. It was then that I had seen some of the old Immigration Inspectors whom I had worked with 10 years past. They all remembered me with clarity......though it had been a decade since I had seen any of them. I remember one such person in particular. A supervisor.....Mr. Perez, who had been on a detail some years back to the same duty station "Anna" and her friend were stationed at in Arizona. He greeted me as would an old friend from school. With open arms and kind words. Little did he know, or suspect, that just 2 years earlier.....I had received an official statement of his, in which he made me out to be the most evil and vile man ever to walk these hollowed grounds. A statement full of half truths and deception......of which the empire used to again blacklist me from a job in the year 2000. He was unaware that I knew about his treachery and back stabbing.
His demeanor was most gracious.......now that I again wore the uniform of the empire.
He demanded I keep in contact with him.....and that he would take me downstairs for a tour of the old work area. I never told him that I knew of his deceptions and his 2 faced approach to my presence. That being said......I could not find that hate of him that I once had. It seemed so long ago......as time pressed on.....though in actuality, it was only 2years past. My grudge could not last......as I sought to mend the rifts of old. I still remember what he had told me after he returned from his detail to the station "Anna" and her friend worked at. He was told by her friend that it was not my fault for what happened at the academy.....and it was not their intention that I should have lost my career. Maybe this is why I could not hold a grudge against him......as he surely did his best to denegrate and disparage me. A lesson learned the hard way about friendship.......and trust.

And so it was.....until that fateful day on April 17, 2003. Again.....I was destined to suffer a blow to my being......and my revived career of the empire. It was that night that I suffered a back injury attempting to lift a bag unto a conveyer belt through a hole in wall. I guess my body just could not take the abuse any longer. I was no longer a spring chicken......as middle age had me in its' grip. I had suffered a severe lower back sprain......according to the doctors. As time went on, I realized I could no longer perform the heavy labor that the job required. My health suffered.......and physical therapy was not helping. As time passed.....discs started compressing......degenerative arthritis set in and bone spurs were produced. I could not stand for long......and walking far was a chore. I knew that my career as a baggage screener was over.
Because of this......I had to file for workers compensation.....and it was granted for a short time.
A whole 2 months did I receive compensation from the Department of Labor. This was just the beginning of a new war with the empire......as I tried to seek justice for the injury I had suffered. Deja Vu all over again. And trouble and woe did follow in my footsteps once again......courtesy of my old friend. As I had predicted......fate did not wait long to crush my nascent dreams once again. And so the new war began......for how long this time......months, years or decades?
That has yet to be written.......and it is not for this time to tell.

To be continued...............

The Korean Demiliterized Zone

While I am on the subject of adventures...probably the most interesting one....was my trip as a United Nations Observer to the Korean DMZ in 1979. I was stationed in South Korea at the time, just 45 miles from the frontier with North Korea. I had signed up on a list for an open spot as a UN observer.....never expecting to get it. Several weeks went by, when I was informed by my First Seargent that I had been selected. I had to wear my Air Force Blue uniform....devoid of anything that identified me as military police.
We were told that a contigent of approximately 10 of us were going to observe a conference at Panmunjom.....the truce village in the center of the DMZ.

The morining came to head north....and we boarded a bus for the trip. We were warned that we could take no pictures during the trip.....and I soon found out why. It was unbelievable the amount of military vehicles and weapons we encountered on the way up. Fields and fields full of armed vehicle, tanks, howizters and other weapons of war. There were thousands of them.....waiting for just one thing......war. Never had I seen such a collection of war machines. All new...ready to go. The DMZ itself is devoid of any military hardware for 2 miles on each side of the Koreas....save for a limited amount agreed upon.

It was a nice warm sunny day when we arrived at Panmunjom....the demarcation line. On one side, the Republic of Korea (South), and the other side, the Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea (North). I noticed that the US Army had about 40 ready troops on standby at all times.....with trucks always running and at the ready. I then noticed the guard towers on the other side....with North Korean soldiers armed with machine guns and binoculars. If ever there was a way to go back into time and envision what NAZI Germany had been like.....this was it!
All of the North Korean soldiers were dressed in olive drab class A uniforms, remarkably similar to the NAZI uniforms of WW2.
They wore jackboots....with flared pants....just as the NAZI army. And each soldier had afixed to his jacket....a picture of Kim Il Sung.....the "great leader" as he was known to them.
The drilled why we were there......marching in unison the goosestep adopted by the NAZIs. They showed no emotion, other than to stare at you with a deep buring hatred.

As delgates of the United Nations....we were required to wear large official UN badges afixed to out clothes. We were led into the main building, were truce talks were held. It was sparton....just a long table in the middle with chairs on each side. A microphone cable ran down the center of the table....North Korea on one side, South Korea on the other. At one end of the table were 2 flags....one North Korean and one United Nations. Before the commission arrived, I stood in the middle of the demarcation line and took a few pictures....half of me in the freedom of the west.....the other half in the totalitarianism of communism. While they had had their short 20 minute meeting to accuse each other of violations of the armistice.....we could not speak, move or take photos. It was very somber and cold. You see.....the Korean War never officially ended....just a cease fire truce. When they left...we were finally free to move around again.

It was then that I noticed something going on outside....in the North Korean sector. I looked out of the window and saw 2 black limos pull up and out came several high ranking members of the Chinese Peoples Army. Yes....communist Chinese.....in uniform.
They wore armbands....yellow for unarmed....red for armed. There were plain clothed men with red armbands....I could see the submachine guns tucked under their shirts. I wanted to see more of this....so in a real act of stupidity.....I slipped outside of the truce building and slid along the outside of the building....just into North Korea. I was only steps over the demarcation line. Then I saw something that truly amazed me. As I watched....a young Chinese soldier exited from one of the limos....with a briefcase in his hand. He saw me.....stopped and turned toward me.....maybe 50 feet away. He stood at attention....and placed his right hand over his heart.....for what reason.....I did not know. Maybe he was wanting to defect.....I would never know....but I got some good pictures of this display. I then slipped back inside the building as quickly as I had left.....the whole thing only took several minutes. No one knew what I had done....but I had my proof locked in my camera.

We spent several hours there.....as we were continually warned not to point at the North Koreans, or use any gestures that could be taken as signs of hostility. When we left....I looked at my shirt....and to my surprise...I had forgotten to take off my military police badge. A violation of the truce....since each side was only allowed an exact number of police in the area at any given time. I was damned lucky I was not shot....let alone start an international incident. That's what I call living life on the edge. A time of living dangerously......not soon forgotten. And I have the pictures to remind me of that experience forever.

The Tasmanian Devil

I was just thinking of an adventure I had back in 1988. I had just completed my enlistment with the Air National Guard....and decided to take a rather interesting trip. A place I wanted to go for a long time. With that, I liquidated the 5 grand I had in my state pension...jumped on a plane....and it was off to Australia (for over 3 months). One of the best adventures I ever had. The flight was long and tiring. The first stop was Hawai'i.....then next was New Zealand. Just my luck....as I reboarded the plane in New Zealand.....the customs officer saw my US passport and started to berate me for America's actions. I knew not of what he was talking about.....until he stated that the government shot down an Iranian airliner. He was quite upset....accusing me....as if I represented the US....of shooting down that plane. It took several minutes to explain to him I was just an average "joe" taking a vacation. Finally, in the air once again.

Next stop was Melbourne, Australia. That is located in the southern part of the country. While it was summer back in the "states", it was winter still in Australia. Rather cold there.....nothing like Idaho though. I next jumped aboard the M/V Abel Tasman. The large ferry named after the man who discovered the island of Tasmania.
The trip took several hours and the seas were choppy. We disembarked finally at the north end of the island. The sun was shining....though chilly and windy it was.

Now....I am sure most of you have heard of the infamous "Tasmanian Devil". Yes....the kind like they have in Bugs Bunny. I had never actually seen a live one until then...but was amazed at just how close the cartoon character resembled the real thing....at least as far as its' mannerisms were concerned. The real animals are about the size of a small dog....or large cat. They are mostly black, but have white spots on various parts of their coats.
They do have large ears and a think short tail. They kind of reminded me of an overgrown badger. And like the cartoon one....they were fearless with horrible table manners. They would eat anything....alive or dead. Skin, bone and horns....all would be eaten....just like the cartoon Taz. And yes....they made the same noises as the cartoon Taz.....a collection of grunts, growls, squeals, whines, cries and yells. They are particularly loud when feeding...and if you never heard one before....you will not soon forget the sounds they make.

I saw a few in the wild, but they are secretive and usually came out only at night. I wanted to see more....so I went to the zoo in Hobart where they had a number of these beasts. The handler jumped into the pit with them and fed them a chicken....they had it torn to shreds in minutes....and there was nothing left...including the feathers. Amazing is the only way to describe it....little eating machines. With that, the handler picked up a large one by the tail and brought it over. It was grunting and squealing and tried to bite him. I would guess that it weighed about 20 solid pounds. He sat it on the wall next to me...where I was allowed to touch and pet it, with its head safely pointed the opposite way. I was told they have some of the greatest jaw bone pressure of any animal...capable of crushing the thickest bones and hooves. I was in store for a special treat.....as the was a she-devil (female) who had 3 young in her pouch. They are marsupials after all. The babies were still rather small and had just gotten their fur. I could see them tucked down in that pouch.

It was a time I would not soon forget....and much nore interesting than looking at kangaroos or emus all day. Yes....Taz and his relatives are alive and well.....on that small island state in the south of Australia.

Episode 2 - Chapter 1 - THE DAY OF TERROR

I remember the time well. That day of destruction.....that day of national sorrow.....the day the earth trembled. For who would have thought that anyone dare attack the mighty empire of the United States. The most powerful nation the world had ever seen.....brought to standstill by less that 2 dozen fanatics. The fate of many were decided that dark day. The fate of a country in turmoil hung in the balance. And as it turned out.....my fate too, hung in the balance.

It had been nearly 10 years since my exile and banishment by the empire. My fall from grace left me broken and bitter....no longer the ardent supporter of an empire that turned its' back on me. So for the last decade did I float from one job.....to another. Did I float from one social circle......to another. My life was fluid...transitory.....temporary. It seemed as though it would never again be stable. I was lucky enough just to be able to complete my BA degree as it was. As the day of terror drew ever closer......I was oblivious to the world around me. So great were the wounds I suffered of the heart and soul......10 years was not enough time to heal the scars that had been left. It was a time most unpleasant indeed.

During that intervening time.....not once did I contact, call, write or otherwise pursue the interest of my love.....my "Anna". It was as if the rift between us could never be breached. It was not for my lack of wanting to......I can tell you......but for my fear of the inevitable disaster that would befall me if I did. I could not take the chance as long as the cold war against the empire remained. So it was that I refrained from any overtures that may have soothed our angered souls. Fate was again plotting against me....or for me.....as it mattered little the actions I took. The wheels were in motion....and could not be stopped. Like the events of 10 years past.....I was careening toward an uncertain future. Nothing new to me after all these years.

Yes....I remember well that fateful day in September 1991. It was a very warm day at my mother's house in the State of Idaho. I was visiting her for a few weeks when she received a call. My brother had asked her if she was watching the TV. We turned it on just in time to catch the second plane hit. Within 30 minutes........both towers crashed to the ground......and our lives would be changed forever. It was then that the empire knew it was vunerable......it had chinks in its' armor. There were soft spots that could be exploited. I am sure we all remember what we were doing the day of that tragedy. And the anger of a nation welled from the depths of a common soul.......vengence would not be denied. The battle cry was in place.....we demand blood.....our justice......and somebody will pay. In the turmoil of the time that followed.......the empire did move with uncharacteristic speed. The monolithic state moved as it had never moved before.......and in its anger.....was born a new department out of 22 that had existed. A new arm for its' power, justice and omnipotence. Yes..... and thus was created the Department of Homeland Security.....out of the many, one. But yet another agency was born out of the chaos......one that would be central to my fate and my future. For it was then that fate let slip the watchful eye of the empire......as it mourned the losses it incurred. Fate again had seen its' will done.......and for whatever reason......I slipped through the cracks of scrutiny and persecution. I became a member of that newest of agencies of the empire....the Transportation Security Adminsitration......as a baggage security screener. In the most ironic twist of fate yet......I had again taken a place as an emloyee of the empire. In the place I had been before.....10 years past! It was there that I saw some of the same people.....still with the INS......who had thrust their knives into my back a decade ago. Surprise could not begin to describe the looks on their faces upon seeing me in a uniform of the empire once again. That was satisfaction enough for me.

But as had it been for many years now.....fate was already plotting my next downfall. A new way to torment me and crush the revival I had been given. It did not take long.....but that is a story for another day.

To be continued...............