A man faces his fears - and survives!

I've mentioned before that I am deathly afraid of three things: Spiders, Snakes and Needles. I would rather deal with dirtbags armed with knives or guns than spiders snakes or needles. Each of them can make me scream like a little girl.

Of course I'm afraid of other things, but those three top the list. If I have time to mentally prepare for it, I can get a shot at the doctors office, I can squash a spider for my wife, or even pick up a snake. But if I am startled, all bets are off.

A little known fact about the little town of Saratoga Springs, Utah which borders the north west side of Utah Lake is that historically, in the later part of the summer, large numbers of spiders build giant webs in the area to take advantage of the astronomical number of mosquitoes found around the lake. There have even been news stories about it from time to time. This doesn't just occur around Utah Lake, but also the Great Salt Lake. In Saratoga Springs, as neighborhoods are going in, the sage brush the spiders used to spawn these webs are disappearing, and the spiders along with them. (Probably aided by copious amounts of bug spray!)

Last night, while working my part time job as a County Constable, I was tasked with serving a summons to some people who live about a half mile south of the last neighborhood at the south end of town. Just a single house by itself out in the middle of the sage brush.

There was a black lab which came to greet me as I drove down the driveway. I've been bitten three times in the 10 years I've been doing this, so I always take the time to stop and let a dog check me out, make friends with me before I approach the house. This dog was pretty friendly, and walked with me towards the house. I was looking down at him, paying attention to him as I walked through a decorative archway / trellis thingy over the sidewalk... right into my own 'Indiana Jones Like' nightmare of spider webs!

I stumbled a few steps while ripping sheets of spider webs from my face and head, dropping my clipboard & papers, very nearly having a total breakdown. After beating every inch of my body trying to kill the spiders which may or may not have been crawling all over me, I looked up to the front door & noticed a sign which said "Come around to the back (basement) door - we don't use this front door".

As I walked around to the back door, carefully avoiding the archway covered in spiders trying to repair the damage I caused to their webs, I noticed that every nook and cranny around the house, especially in the eaves up near the roof, were covered in spiders and their webs. And not little, common house spiders. Big fat scary spiders. The bodies are about the size of a quarter, with the legs extending out past that. They were either "Cat Spiders" or "Orb Weaver Spiders".

Cat Spider:


Orb Weaver Spider:


I talked with the people in the house, and they told me that they don't use any pesticides or poisons because "the spiders are our friends, and those poisons kill living creatures". In other words, they are freaks.

I asked them to check my back, to make sure that I didn't have any spiders on me before I left. Thankfully, they said they couldn't see any.

I'm sitting here freaking out just writing about it. But I survived.

Next time, give me papers for the violent ex-con. At least my .45 will work on them.

Into the abyss

We've reached the abyss.
It happens each year, right around this time.

There is absolutely nothing going on in the sports world that I care about, even a little bit.

I don't consider myself to be a big sports nut. I love football (both college and pro), & I love pro basketball. Not enough to watch for hours and hours each week, but I keep up on standings & catch a game (or at least part of a game) each week.
This, along with the steady stream of news stories accompanying all of the above, keeps me reading Sports Illustrated 8 months out of the year.

But from the time that the NBA finals finish in the middle of June until the first college football games in August, it seems like there is NOTHING at all sports related to be interested in. Sure, the NBA draft can once in a great while be almost interesting to get hyped up about, but that didn't happen this year.

I am fully aware that baseball and NASCAR fans are probably outraged that I wouldn't consider their sports worthy of attention, but I mean 4-5 hours of watching baseball for just a small handful of hits, of actual excitement? I just can't get into a sport that takes a break to stretch 2/3 of the way through the game. And NASCAR? Please, I see 100 or so rednecks trying to ram each other off the road each day, but I call it 'Driving in I-15 traffic'.

Traffic Sucks

I have finally done it. I have signed up to get a permit allowing me to use the Car Pool lanes in and around Salt Lake City without an extra passenger.

I've been contemplating this move for over a year, ever since I changed jobs last year, and began to work near downtown Salt Lake City. It's 28 miles from my driveway to my parking spot at work, but at the best, this drive takes me 40 minutes on a good morning and 45 minutes on a good afternoon. The usual is closer to 50 minutes in the morning, and an hour in the afternoon. At least weekly, I'll have a day where I'll spend an hour driving in the morning, or an hour and a half in the afternoon.

I don't know if they make much money off the program, but UDOT allows drivers to purchase passes to use the Car Pool lanes for $50 a month. I've thought for a long time that this was simply too much money, but then today I actually broke it down.

Assuming that there are 20 working days in a month (at the very least...), $50 breaks down to $1.25 a trip. If we had those stupid pass things that allowed me to pay a toll here, and the price difference between a 40 minute commute and an hour and a half commute was only $1.25, I'd be on that like white on rice.

With my current pay, I only need to save three minutes in order to justify this decision. Money well spent.

I hate traffic.

Moments of sadness at work

Working as a Constable, I have learned to have fairly thick skin. 95% of the time, the people I am serving have had many, many opportunities to take care of things prior to the time I show up on their porch. Often, I relish in being there at the exact moment someone realizes what a chump, what a drain on society they have been. It makes my day so much better to make someone else's day so much worse.

But sometimes, when I have to serve certain papers, I just feel bad doing so.

I often felt sympathy when I had to serve papers regarding a medical bill to someone who is obviously struggling with both their health and their financial situation. I have often felt really bad when attempting to serve papers only to find out that the defendant has passed away. One of the worst I can remember was when I had to serve eviction papers on a family the day before Thanksgiving, the same day that they had sent their father/husband off to Iraq. (The article doesn't mention the 30 minutes I spent with this woman, trying to get her to let me help contact some family, friends, religious leaders, anyone at all to help comfort or counsel her, the advise I gave her about contacting the JAG corps - because with her husband deployed, she and her family couldn't legally be evicted, etc...)

Despite all the sadness associated with the above duties, I often feel the most sympathy & sadness for someone I have just served with divorce papers. Not always, because often people were waiting for them & are finally glad to be getting them. (In fact, one time, a woman was so happy to be getting them that she grabbed me and gave me a hug!) But often, the sight of a Constable bringing divorce papers shakes someone up, & drags them to the belated realization that their marriage is really going to be over.

Last night, I had to serve a man who appeared to be in his mid twenties with divorce papers. He was a well built guy, someone who appeared to be formidable enough that I would rather not see him angry, yet he was trembling with fear when his father called him to the door. When I explained who I was and what I had for him, tears formed in his eyes. It was blatantly obvious that he was not prepared for the possibility that his marriage could be over. His world ended right there. I pitied him, having long ago been through a divorce myself. I wished to reach out, grab him by his shoulder, and tell him that everything would be alright. But that would be a lie. Everything isn't going to be alright. Not for a long time, if ever.

People getting divorce papers don't always even know they are coming. In fact, fairly often, I will be serving someone divorce papers while their soon-to-be-ex is still living in the house with them. Those can be very touchy, and more than a few times I've ended up calling the local police & told them not only what happened, but asked them to drive by a few times, maybe even stop & check in on the wife. (Usually those were cases where the wife was divorcing the husband, many times in an already abusive situation.) Still other times, a wife receiving divorce papers without warning will simply break down and cry for a few minutes, right there at the door. No words I can offer will comfort the feelings of loss and betrayal that they are feeling right at that moment.

When that happens, I do the only thing I can: Get back in the truck and head off to the next service. I've got a job to do.

Cigarettes

I haven't had a cigarette for over 10 years. This fact doesn't stop me from craving one when I get really stressed out, even after all this time.
Having been really stressed out today, I began to ponder. What in the world would make me desire to have a cigarette after all this time. It certainly isn't physiological, not after 10 years. in addition, there are a whole list of reasons not to smoke. Health issues, being ostracized from society at large, constantly smelling like an ashtray, not being able to taste food as well, extremely high cost, nicotine addiction, second-hand smoke effects on those around me, the list goes on and on.

So what exactly is it?

In short, cigarettes make me think more clearly.
Expounding on that, I must admit I've never been a chain-smoker. I'd get really stressed out about things, smoke a pack or two over the space of a couple of days, then I'd quit again for months at a time. Therefore, for me, smoking was a coping mechanism.
When I would be stressed out, most of all, I usually sought solitude. I sought the time to think things over carefully, to seek internally solutions to my problems. Generally, my multi-tasking brain cannot handle processing just one thing at a time. I am nearly always doing several things at once. It is just my nature.

But when I smoked, everything just stopped. I didn't usually smoke around other people. With each drag, concentrating simultaneously on the sublime beauty of each individual lit strand of tobacco while carefully controlling my breathing, I was able to force out all other threads of thought save two: My lit cigarette, and the problem I sought to analyze. With the nicotine buzz came emotional numbness and the ability to step back away from my problems and take an objective look at them while detached.

Over time, I'd like to think that I have developed better coping skills than ingesting known carcinogens. I'd like to believe that I am a better man now than I was 10 years ago, wiser and more responsible. I'd like to think that I would set the example for my 4 sons which I would like them to emulate.
I'd like to think all of those things.

So why do I sit here craving a cigarette?

Back from vacation!

I just got back from a week long cruise to Mexico. I’ll probably put up some pictures later, but here is the short version of my trip.

Short List of Things I learned in Mexico:
- “Drive it like you stole it” is more than just a punk catchphrase – it is a way of life for these people. There are only two positions for the gas pedal: up and down.
- The price is always negotiable.
- The beaches in Cabo San Lucas are not comprised of sand – they are very fine gravel which makes for clear water, but it sucks to walk on barefoot.
- Even in the most barren looking village, you can still find two things: Coke and Vendors selling touristy crap.
- Traffic signals, lane markings, traffic signs and turn signals are all just for decoration. The only thing that matters is that you roll down the window, look back, and wave your arm at someone just before you cut them off.
- Cobblestone streets are quaint – and also very rough.
- Wal-Mart is everywhere.
- So is Costco.

Short List of Things I learned on the Cruise Ship:
- Cops will recognize each other no matter where they are.
- Check to be sure that there is not a gathering of “Hogs on the High Seas” going on your cruise unless you want to see A LOT of skin you’d rather not be seeing.
- Bikers will recognize cops, and cops will recognize bikers, no matter where they are.
- Simon Cowell’s insults of “that was a cruise ship performance” are much meaner than I thought.
- Cannonballs are not allowed in the indoor pool.
- Especially if you are the second one.
- You aren’t supposed to take your pocketknife through the security checkpoints, but the ship’s first officer will only give you a warning if he thinks you are a cop, especially if 1100 of the ships 2100 passengers are intoxicated bikers.

I don't like being a mushroom

Frequently at my current full-time job, I feel like I must be a mushroom. Because mushrooms are kept in the dark and fed manure.
Today I had a fun experience where the wheels fell off the project I've been working on the last couple of weeks. I was missing several VITAL pieces of information, that were critical to my project turning out successfully.
So I look like a complete and total moron, when it really wasn't my fault. That is kind of par for the course recently. No one seems to have a handle on what they want to accomplish, so I end up programming at a moving target, one that not only moves frequently, but also one which I don't have vital information about.
This sucks. :(