Thanksgiving Entry from the old Open Diary site from 2010

I’ll be heading out on the road for a Thanksgiving journey for the first time in many years. Road trips at Thanksgiving wore me out back in 1996 & 1997 when I was commuting between Lockport, NY and Tuscaloosa, AL. I was not keeping a journal at that time of my life. However, the events of the trips are burned into my memory.

I was stacking aluminum radiator cores in Building 7 on the day shift the day before Thanksgiving 1996. This was a rate job I was very good at. My partner in sharing the center machine was Karen. She taught me how to stack and she was fast. Once we started work for the day we tried to keep the machine which made up our air centers running all the time. Starting the center machine from a dead stop would increase the chance of jam ups and down time. When our parts table would fill up, an electric eye would get covered cancelling out parts being sent. If my eye would get covered Karen would then get all the parts. She would yell.. “JIMMY my table is filling up!~!!!” That would always light a fire under my butt!!

Stacking was a rate job. I had made extra parts earlier in the week I did not record so I would give a legal count for my weeks work when I left early. This day I worked through my morning breaks and was able to get my count out just into my lunch. Karen promised to put my finished parts on the line, and record my count so I could head out on the road early. I ran out of that place to my truck and hightailed it to my house. The truck was packed with paving bricks and odds and ends.

I had moved most of my antiques south in October using a 17ft U-haul. Mom’s cat Fuzzie moved in with Chloe and me after her death in 1994. That October move was the trip my sisters found Fuzzie dead when they came to feed the cats. That was so horrible. There was no way I was going to leave Ron’s old cat Chloe behind this trip. From now on we would be travelling as a team. Chloe was startled when I scooped her up, plopped her into the cat carrier and carried her to the truck.

Chloe settled right in and travelled wonderfully. The traffic was as you would expect: Miserable. Naturally I hit Columbus, OH right around 5:00 p.m. I hate driving through this city. Rush hour makes it the worst. Cincinnati was not much better. I can still see in my mind the unbroken line of red taillights snaking into and through the metropolis.

Once I got over the river into Kentucky things calmed down a bit. I decided to stop for the night at what was then a Budget Host Motel in Erlanger, KY. I had stayed there before and knew there was not a problem with Chloe. Right next door was a White Castle. A BIG plus in my book.

Chloe was a trooper. She made herself right at home in her regal manor.

We got an early start Thanksgiving Day and had smooth sailing into Tuscaloosa. Chloe explored the new house. It met with her approval and she claimed a perch on top of boxes stacked up in what is now the back study.

Chloe made a number of similar trips the following year. She developed cancer: the Thanksgiving trip to Tuscaloosa in 1997 was her last. She was such a special cat. There was something mystical about her. When she would look into your eyes it was like she could see into your soul. Her ashes are in a tin in my front parlor. I have it in my will I’m to be cremated and our ashes are to be mixed together and spread off the Appalachian Trail.

Homage To Stumpy

My Vet and his assistant were in tears as Stumpy went to sleep. My Vet hates to euthanize, but even he agreed it was time when I explained the only food Stumpy had eaten in the past three days was some baby food licked off my finger. Stump had such a fast decline this week.

Stumpy was buried in two old heirloom pillow cases with tatted edges. One of his favourite spots to relax was next to the driveway where he would blend in and still be able to observe everything going on. Cornelius was right when he said, “Stumpy owns this neighborhood!” Stumpy’s final resting place is in that spot next to the driveway he “helped” me install.

Stumpy hard at work helping with the bricks August 2012:

The ground was hard but not impossible to dig for Stump’s grave. I had to take the carrier apart as his body had stiffend up, and I did not want to change anything by forcing him through the door. Doc arranged him so it was like he was curled up sleeping. This was one of the carriers Ron used to send his cats Honey and Sister from Rochester, NY to Houston Texas back in the fall of 1989. This was put in action after his death to ship Chloe to me in the fall of 1992. It has seen such service moving cats over the years.

Lifting my beautiful lifeless black cat out of the carrier base caused me to have my breakdown and cry my tears. I was alone and did not hold back. It was so cathartic to just let go. It was as if a huge weight of worry and apprehension had been lifted. I gave my boy last hugs and kisses, and covered him in the “pillowcase shroud”.

I plan on switching out one of the border bricks on the driveway here with an engraved brick signifying Stump’s final resting place. I can look out the side door from my bedroom as I work on the desktop, or the kitchen window when I have to set up the fan to blow out the cooking grease so not to set off the smoke alarm and see him.

Stumpy’s grave:

I know I have pictures of Stumpy sunning in this spot, but have been unable to turn them up. I really need to name those shots rather then trying to remember the dates they were downloaded to be able to find them via a search. The photos in my files must now number in the thousands.

I’m so sorry now I did not have a digital camera, or Open Diary when Daggy and Stumpy were kittens. What they put me through! I would not change it for the world. But, the world and Internet were so different 17 years ago. I can remember trying to stream radio on a dial-up AOL connection!

My friends here at Prosebox and Facebook have been such support to me. I honestly don’t think I could have pulled through without the encouraging and kind words of compassion. This type of interaction is what still makes such an impression on me on how the internets can so improve life and make a hard situation better.

Stumpy Daggy and I all had such a good life together. I relish the memories.

Putting these entries together has been so cathartic. I have been interacting with friends and am feeling much better.

Let me add a montage of pictures here for closure. Stumpy touched many lives all over the world. He truly was one special cat.

Stumpy and Daggy on the bed:

Trying out the new dresser:

On the truck:

Enjoying some steak:

In the early spring grass:

On the front porch:

Helping to shell pecans:

Relaxing:

Waiting for the bus:

I could not find these photos on my photobucket account, so had to do up a fresh scan.
The top picture was from December 1998 showing Daggy and Stump as real pals. The bottom shot is just before Stump attacked! He looks more like a bear cub with that stump tail!

These photos bring back such happy memories… they are the best ones.

Working Against My Conscious

The fallout from the discrimination bill in Indiana is delicious. Some of the comments left on news blogs and sites are so ludicrous. The one phrase that is repeated over and over is to the tune of, “People should not have to work against their conscious.”

This had me thinking back nearly 35 years to the defining incident that forever altered my worldview in regards to my rights as a worker, and my attitude towards my employer.

To greatly simplify matters, I was in a position on the supply line to where I was forced to run my machine using out of spec parts which resulted in much frustration for myself and my coworkers. It also resulted in mountains of scrap.

This happened fairly early in my GM career when I was still in the “I want to make the best quality I can” phase. I was making waves to correct this situation through the UAW, Quality Control, and any outlet I could think of. Remember Sally Field when she was “Norma Ray” fighting against the bad factory system? I kind of related my battle to hers.

Being a watchmaker, perhaps I had more of an appreciation of quality than the average GM worker. To make substandard units and scrap really galled at me. I was eventually told by those in control that I was to work according to GM’s “Company policy on parts”: “Every part in the system has been inspected. Defective parts do not exist.”

I made a visit to the NYS Labor Relations Bureau in Buffalo on my own initiative to investigate if I might have some form of recourse. I was told by this labor lawyer that the GM parts policy broke no health or safety laws. If I was so upset over it all, perhaps I should quit.

I realized I had three options to work with.

1. I could throw a righteous fit, quit my job, leave in style, and have the satisfaction I was right. No, that option was not open to me. Common sense told me I would never be able to replace the wages and benefits I was currently earning.
2. I could keep trying to change the parts situation and maybe be successful. Again my common sense kicked in. The constant harassment from management, plus my being worked up all the time had me on the verge of developing an ulcer. Just going into work I was so agitated, my stomach was in constant turmoil, while my head was pounding.This situation consumed my life. I was not a happy person anymore. It would only be a matter of time before charges could be trumped up against me which would result my being fired. It took a bit, but I voted this as a “No”.
3. I could work according to the GM policy on parts and let the cards fall where they may. I took door #3.

From then on I worked according to this policy on parts. It was hard for me to not care as I made pallet after pallet of defective units. The guys who handled this scrap were always bitching at me. I told them to complain to supervision to change things, I was just doing my job. I learned it how really liberating it was to not give a shit.

As time progressed it got easier and easier. I never inspected a part again. I gave up control of my body to GM for my allotted shift. They never would have my mind again. I learned to just laugh at the ridiculousness of the factory. My tension/stress level went from “off the charts” to “non-existent”,

My social life was built outside of the factory. This was the life whereby I found meaning and self worth. I always stayed on good terms with my co-workers, but they were never the fabric of my “inner circle” of friends. They were more in the category of “close acquaintances”.

So many of the principals of that influential “life drama” are dead now. I’m kind of sorry now I never took the opportunity to thank them. I went through Hell when it all was going on, but I emerged a stronger person who learned how to focus on living life to the fullest, and planning for retirement. The second I hit my “30 years and out” I was leaving.

In a round-a-bout way, it is those bastards I owe my present financial and health status to. Through them I learned what was important in life. Trust me; it was not making a perfect evaporator core. There have only been a few incidents since that time where I let GM get my blood pressure up. Usually I could keep things in check.

I was chatting years after that initial incident occurred with Charlie, an old foreman of mine who was involved in the management side of that “quality of parts mess”. The conversation ended as follows:

Charlie: Jim, remember when you were having that problem with bad parts on the clincher? You knew those parts were out of spec didn’t you?

Jamie: I learned my lesson Charlie. For as long as I work for this company, I will never, ever, question the integrity of any part within the system again.

The look on his face was priceless. It was a combination of deer in the headlights / horror. He could not leave fast enough.

I worked against my conscious in regards to quality, and money. God only knows the number of evaporator cores that failed in service due to those shitty parts, or how much those mountains of scrap eventually cost GM. GM did not give a “Rat’s Ass”: I learned neither should I.

Looking Back St. Patrick's Day 1990

My old journal was still out this morning. It is fun to reread what transpired so many years ago. I’m going to transcribe a memorable St Patrick’s Day from 1990.

Sunday March 17, 1990. 
Happy St Pat’s day!! Beautiful bright sunny warm day. Have big early breakfast. Don’t feel too bad! Get ambitious and wash the car. It was a mess. Looks so much better with 5 months of road grime off!! Went to West Ave and vacuumed it all out. Can’t wait till spring to do a real cleaning on it. Drive over to mom’s. Take her out for a ride to get Byes popcorn. Quite a line up and we were early! That place is really a gold mine. Came home the long way: Coomer Road and up Niagara St hill. You can feel spring in the air. Drop off mom and head home to get cleaned up. Get over to Joe’s. Tim and Daryl already over. Ride up with Joe and Gary. Daryl and Tim follow us. I make faces at them all the way up. Traffic into Canada is backed up all the way onto the Thruway. What a pain. Thank God we’re going against it. Got to Buddies and the lot next door was just emptying out. Were able to get a good parking space. Great crowd out. These women bitching because we kept bumping into the them getting drinks, they were right in the aisle, “We’re just going to get drinks, then blow this pop shop.” I tell them. Dennis out, Paul too.. big split again. Oh well…. Mike out acting very available. We are all wound up. Kevin shows up from Daryl’s Wally mess. He does not remember me. He used to hang on TC some nine years back when he was still chicken. Kept him guessing. Then told how I knew him. Years have not been kind to him. Marc was there. Had fun talking of the old Carol days. Rumor has it, that he has “it”. God, I hope not. Fixed up a buffet plate of corned beef and cabbage. Was starving. Food sure tasted good. The dance floor was opened up. It is really separated from the main bar. Perhaps it will work out. Peter joined our group. This guy at the bar kept staring at us for days. He was really hot after Gary. He almost broke his leg running to follow him to the bathroom. Tim and I started talking to him and filled him in on the marital status of everyone. Tried to get him to join us, but he kept saying he had to get home. Said he lived in Kenmore. I said, “Why go to that boring middle class suburb when you can have fun with us? Take off your coat!” That really scared him!! Carol O’Shaunessy was in for a show. She is so great, really like her. They were doing a benefit for Mercy Flight. Joe and Gary left early, poor Gary had to be into work early. I hung with Tim and Daryl. David showed up. He will have an earful to tell Richard.. HA! HA!! We left about 1:00. Glad Tim was the designated driver.

I apologize for the quality of the writing, but this was never meant to be polished or for any one’s eyes other than my own. One of these days I will really get to work and polish and flesh my journals out.

It is really hard for me to fathom these events transpired 25 years ago. I have lost track of so many of the people I recorded. Our paths diverged or on a sadder note they were victims of AIDS. There are so many colorful characters in my past that really deserve to be remembered. Rereading the basic outlines I recorded, these friends and people come back full of life. It is kind of like reliving the closing scene of the movie “Longtime Companion”.

As my life slows down, being able to look back on my past makes my current slower pace seem not so bad. I can see in perspective how it would be impossible to live the life I did in my 20’s and 30’s in my 60’s. I like to reflect how I’ve grown emotionally and spiritually. The frantic socializing of those formative years has paid off in a solid foundation of friends and extended family.

Mom and Dealing With Scammers

Stumpy is again on my lap as I try to type. He gets so relaxed he will drool resulting in my sweats getting wet!

The 17th was the 20th anniversary of my mom’s death. We had such a strong bond. There is so much research now on how the early maternal bonding and body contact can shape personality. In hindsight 60+ years later it all falls into place.

In the 1950’s most babies were fed a milk formula. It was pretty much a given. The particular formula I was on changed its manufacturing process which resulted in a severe vitamin b deficiency for me. Old time neighbors told me growing up how they remembered my mother holding me in the old rocking chair trying to get me take the formula that was making me sick, crying and fussing for hours on end. Things were eventually worked out health wise and an unbreakable bond was formed between mother and son.

Looking back to the night mom died it is ironic how the tables were turned. Mom had bone cancer. There was no hope for remission. She wanted no heroic or life saving measures taken to prolong her life. In the afternoon she drifted out of the morphine sleep in great pain well before it was time for her next dose. Her doctor gave the nurse on duty the order for the final dose of morphine.

A few hours later mom’s breathing grew ragged as her lungs filled with fluid. I held her hand as the life passed from her body and the pain left her face. I’m so grateful I was able to repay the debt to the woman who brought me into the world, by easing her into death peacefully with dignity and grace.

I miss mom, but I don’t mourn her death. She lived life on her terms and she was prepared for her death. It is a journey each of us will make. I’ll never forget Joe telling me how one of mom’s physicians told him my mother was one of the bravest people he had ever met in how she faced her eminent dying.

Mom and me:

I don’t want to get morbid and sad. Mom would not want that!

I’m laughing at myself from the last entry in how I blasted conspicuous consumption and then finished off the entry bragging over my new $40.00 computer sound system!! LOL!! I guess it was a Freudian slip!

I was writing out the last of my Christmas cards in the early evening. Stumpy decided to come in and join me. I was at the dining room table with Pandora playing in the background on the laptop. Stumpy was on my lap for a while and then went to the table top. He curled up in the shipping box I use to store my cards and went to sleep.

Stumpy at Peace:

It turned into one of those “magic nights” when that peaceful feeling of pure joy occurs. It is not something you can plan. It just happens. I was writing to long time friends, the house was toasty and warm as the sun set. Stumpy was contented, and garlic shrimp & pasta was on the menu for supper.

I took the laptop to the kitchen for a break from having to listen to the radio news. I like to have some background noise going when I cook. I was thrilled to find a new You tube on messing with scammers. The guys who post these are brilliant. I use their material all the time.

As a matter of fact, I just began typing this entry out and got a scam call from the “medic alert” people. They read on and on from these scripts for minutes on end. I just say “Uh-hu” every now and then when I can tell there is a silence from the phone I’ve laid on the desk.

When it sounds like they are going in for the kill I’ll pick up the phone and say:

Jamie: O.K just mail me my free electronic equipment.
Scammer: I can’t send it out until you authorize starting up the monitoring service at $29.95 a month.
Jamie: I don’t want any of that monitoring stuff; I just want that free equipment you promised. I’m into electronics and I can use those components in my projects. 
Scammer: That equipment is not free, it is of no charge to you.
Jamie: If it is no charge to me, then it is free right? Just send me my stuff.

This reasoning drives these people crazy!! At this point I can really stretch it out going around in circles, or they will hang up on me. I love it when I can hear the exasperation in their voices and audible gasps. Just typing this out has me laughing!!

Playing on the telemarketers is my way of making lemonade out of lemons I guess.

A bonus!! I was uploading pictures for the entry to my Photobucket account when the phone rang again. It was the home security people.

HSP:  Are you interested in upgrading your home security system?

Jamie: No, you were so nice to call me. Nobody ever calls me. I’m so lonely….

HSP:  silence…..

Jamie: It’s Christmas and I’m so lonely… will you call me again tomorrow????
Click….Dial tone……

Christmas Letter from the Past

It sounds like ancient history now to speak of AOL Chat rooms. I have not been on AOL since losing the cheap $3.00 a month dial up connection which was a company benefit. That was about 10 years ago.

Morning Kawfee was a favourite AOL room of mine to visit. It was not a pick up sex room as most of those old AOL rooms were. Instead, it was older guys dishing and communicating in the pre-facebook/twitter era. The chats that transpired back in the day.

It was in the late 1990’s; Jon from the room sent me this hysterical XMAS vanity letter. I’ve sent this to more friends over the years. I had to change a date or two, but it really is timeless.

Dear Friends:

What a wonderful year we have had!  Bob was named Vice President of the bank, so we celebrated by buying a MERCEDES and taking a trip to the ORIENT.  In addition to his Boy Scout work, Bob served as Chairman of the United Fund Drive. He is still on the hospital board and President of Kiwanis.  Just for kicks, he played the lead in the Little Theater production last June, and everyone said he was better than the star that did it on Broadway.  His first love however is still conservation, and he continues to work hard as Chairman of the committee to Fight Dutch Elm Disease.

After completing my term as Junior League President, I swore I would take life easy, but it seems I am more involved than ever.  I accepted the Vice Presidency of the Garden Club and am still very active in the DAR.  Our church organist became ill and they asked me to substitute, so I accepted.  I ran the rummage sale again this year and managed to take a course in flower arranging and cake decorating.

Little Latwanda was elected class president and won letters in volleyball and basketball.  She is on the all-state debate team and placed second in the National Oratory contest last May.  She has already been accepted by Harvard.  She has sure grown the last few years and has turned out to be a gorgeous young lady.  We are very proud of her and her dedication for work with the Homeless Shelter at the same time tutoring young people and attending finishing school.  Of course for Christmas she has asked for a new Corvette but we are hesitant to give her everything she wants so we bought her a 2012.

In early October we lost Bob's mother.  For the last 5 days of her life I set with her never leaving her side and controlling her visitors and working closely getting her affairs in order.  Being appointed her Power of Attorney is sure a Godsend and makes things so much easier.  Well after 5 days she passed away and boy did Bob get a surprise when her will was read.  We got EVERYTHING but I did give my sister in law a real nice cabinet that sits above the toilet and that nice set of Melmac which did include the sugar and creamer.  I thought that was fair enough.  You know me; I like to keep harmony in the family.  I had to laugh, Bob said we should just invest all the money we inherited and just live on the interest.

Well I hope you all have a wonderful Holiday and a great 2015.  We leave in January for a 6 week well earned vacation in Europe.

Again,  MERRY CHRISTMAS

PS  - Crazy me. I forgot to ask how your year went.  Keep in touch but don't call until we return from Europe because I am sure I will have lots of stories to relate to you since you have never traveled abroad.

Postcard From the Past

It will pretty much take a journal entry to explain this picture. This photo was taken at my Lockport house Christmas Eve 1995.

The “postcards” we are all holding have a picture of a man and woman dressed in harlequin outfits.

This picture was taken at the 1995 annual meeting of the Musical Box Society. The meeting favor that year was a musical photo album. Pictures were taken as you entered the banquet. They were quickly developed to be available after the banquet and entertainment.

As fate would have it, my good friend Leroy was seated behind this couple when the entertainment commenced after the banquet. Leroy kindly asked this lady to remove her headpiece so he and the people behind would view the stage. This woman got very irate and told Leroy that she thought it would be best if he moved!

I have never seen Leroy so mad. Billy had to use the restroom. He had a grin as he returned. The pictures had been arranged on a table to be picked up as you exited the banquet room. He took one of the two photos of the offending couple to sneak into Leroy’s photo album, which we were able to do.

I admit that when it was time to get the pictures I slid the other picture of this couple between the table and wall so it was out of sight. When no one was looking, it left with me.

Now a bit of background on Leroy: Leroy’s family ran the most prestigious clothing store and was a respected businessman in his town. Over the years he had been the recipient of many postcards from billy and I when we would be on road trips to phonograph shows.

It is a known fact postcards are widely read in the post offices. My good friend Karen had an aunt who worked in the post office. She would relate with glee how much the sorting staff enjoyed the cards I used to send her!! One year for XMAS Karen’s mother gave me a box of envelopes!

Now I have to Segway to Judy. He was the first of my friends to be on the cutting edge of computers. Judy had one of the first scanners. It is hard to imagine only some 20 years ago something as mundane as a computer scanner could be considered exotic.

Judy scanned this picture so it could be printed on heavy card stock with the picture on the front and Leroy’s store address printed on the back.

I would stamp these cards and pass them out to friends so they could drop Leroy a note!

If you look closely at the picture, you can just barely make out printing…. This is advertising for Leroy’s clothing store!

We had more fun writing notes to Leroy. Poor Leroy would run to intercept the mail before his brother at the store could find these! The mailman told Leroy, “You sure have interesting friends!”

We all sent Leroy postcards that XMAS Eve.