Grandpa

      Forty years ago, give or take a month or two, I stepped out of a Boxing Ring in Salt Lake City following a very tough fight, and loss.  I wasn't used to losing, but I also wasn't used to getting beat up as bad as that either.

     Apparently I'd given a pretty good showing as the rest of the Idaho Contingent showed up to shake my hand, the Ref came over to congratualte me and the guy ringside stopped Yelling "Knock out that Idaho Spud"

     Representing Idaho in the Golden Gloves,  there were two things I'd not known.  One, entering the Tournament as an Independant ruined plans of the two larger boxing clubs in Boise, because, I'd beaten one of their guys and the representative of the other beaten the same night.  The next night, the finisher of the other fight either couldn't or wouldn't fight.  But I'll admit he'd had a tougher fight than me.

   I  then learned that these guys, unhappy about the whole deal approached me and said I didn't get the Cool Jacket or the trophy unless I committed to going to Regionals in two weeks.  Well that sucked, so I committed because I really wanted the Cool Jacket and the Trophy.  But I pretty much knew I was the big fish in the small pond, but no idea how I'd stack up against Heavyweights from much bigger towns like Salt Lake or Denver.  But I agreed, so my Best Friend Matt trained me and in two weeks we loaded the Gran Tourino and my fan club consisting of Matt and Mooster left for Salt Lake.

      After a Sleepless night, I showed up for breakfast (Apparently all the teams were staying at this Hotel)  and a Black guy about my same height and build walked up to me "Your name Murray" two inches from my face.  I didn't have a lot of experience with this stare down thing but I think I held my own.  Not realizing that I'd drawn him for my first (and only) fight.  And nobody told me Matt later said people were, worried that if I'd known, I'd head outta town.  I didn't and though it hurt, I lived through one of the more memorable nights of my life fighting a Ranked Amateur who I'll give credit to here.  Tommy Hill from Denver.  A guy who but a few short weeks later would learn that he'd been defeated while fighting for the US Amatuer team by a Russian..  But I wouldn't know about all this at the time.  The following year life caught up to me and though I continued to work out and probably peaked in my abilites at the time, only one fight was scheduled and that fighter failed to show up.  Knee problems and let's say life overcame me. I dropped out.  Years later I consider myself pretty lucky though I attribute my ongoing sleep and sinus issues to the thousands of punches over the years.

 Now this turned out to be a little longer than I thought it would be and not really the subject of my post or me so much.  See after all the all around congratualtions from people about a great fight, people I'd never met sitting  in the crowd, Judges, the Ref, the Boxing Heads of the other clubs etc. my Dad walked up, behind him Grandpa Pete.  I don't quite remember what Dad said, but I'll always remember what Grandpa Pete said. (I might add I was pretty surprised he was even there.+  It was more or less "Don't give up your Day job son" and though it was said with a chuckle, he was quite serious.









     I have scoured the Internet and shamelessly stolen images that have personal meaning.  This one is from Sarah's Facebook page.    This is the Kenny that I remember growing up.  I suspect I'd still be in High School when this picture was taken.  Like this picture shows, Ken smiled with his entire face..  Each time I have visited with Will, Ben or Gerrod it's like talking to a ghost.

      I've been a bit surprised that since I lost contact with Kenny so many years ago, caught up with my own life that others don't have the memories of him that I do.  I must have been about 12 when I attended a Basketball game at the Twin falls High School when Kenny was playing his first year for Idaho State University.   He was a standout freshman who'd recceived a full ride athletic scholarship.  In that game he'd been the top scorer and if memory serves me right he  also was named top freshman that year.    He left school for a mission which among other things probably doesn't encourage staying in shape. But to put that in perspective, Kenny once played for a team that years later would make National Headlines by defeating UCLA  Afterwards he tried out at BYU he later told me unsuccessfully,

     Grandpa Pete was the original pick yourself up by the Boot Straps guy.  We weren't  particularly close, I just know I was his grandson and he loved me.  I'd lost the fight and that was that.  Time for plan B, Simple as that.  There weren;t any losers in my family and though there might be losses, one picked himself up and moved on.. And he wasn't accustomed to seeing or being around them.  He didn't know the caliber of the guy I'd fought and didn't care.  He was accustomed to his offspring standing out.  And in the spirit of this, Grandpa Pete though I should direct my efforts elsewhere.

      Now that's not to take away from the accomplishments of those who've ppulated this Country since, but overall we did have it much easier in some ways

       This is all picked from my memory so there may exist a factual error or two.  Certainly not the spirit or intention of writing this.

      During those early years, the ones I've been told about anyway, Grandpa worked in the Coal Mines.  Grandma, not wanting him to succumb to Black Lung as apparently another brother did, wanted him the Hell out of their so he became a Barber somewhere's near Green River, Wyo.

     But my memories don't really start until after he aquired a large tract of land that must really have been a substantial part of Blackfoot, Idaho.  where my Uncle and he built two large brick homes.  Grandpa started a Trucking business,  owned a Gas station and Hotel in nearby Pocatello and became active in the Mormon Church.and  raised a family.  He'd send them all to College,help finance tthe purchase of one son's penchant for Airplanes.  At my age while I'm struggling against weight gain, he was still very much working.  Hauling Beets and Potatoes well over twelve hours a day while going home to a small Camper parked behind a service station.  Open a Can of Soup, sleep in the small bed over the Cab without heat in well below freezing weather to get up do it all over again..  Hell, my Grandma would join him when she could.

 
     It was nothing for my father, who at Fourteen left home.   Hitchiked across the Country.  Recalled into the Air Force serving as an MP during the Korean war.  Finding and losing jobs to eventually get on with the Rail Road with my other Uncles by lying about his education level.  And he would spend a life "On Call".  By the time of his retirement in 1980, in todays dollars he was making a General Practitioners pay.  And sent and paid for each of his kids to attend College.

    My mother became a Registered Nurse in the  Forties and Fifties.  And an Officer in the Naval Reserve.

A real Texas Thunderstorm

     This puppy didn't even get started until after Midnight. I'm located about a mile from the water of the Gulf, and had been hearing about the possibility of "Severe" Thunderstorms all day.  Must have been around 11:45 or so when I stepped out my front door.  Somewhere's after Colbert and the beginning of Meyer's. The thing about down here in Texas is that when something like this is about to happen, seems the air gets heavier.  And there was definitely something like that happenning here.  I looked up at the Moon and noticed the clouds were moving quite fast although from where I was standing, I felt only a slight breeze.     
   
         Meyer's was a rerun so I decided to turn in.  But just as I was about to turn off the lights, I decided to check the Weather app on my phone.  Talk about an Oh shit moment.  As soon as the radar pic came up, it became very obvious this was a huge storm carrying a lot of water. The images, which tend to be mostly Yellow with a Red core signifying the heavier rainfall, a smaller patch usually much smaller than the Yellow surrounding it.  In this instance it was just the opposite.  The Storm was huge and consisted of almost all Red.  From what I could deduce looking at the small screen, the monster seemed to be moving from West to East, leaving the possibility that it might not hit until morning, if at all.  It was at least a hundred miles away at that time.

      I was hoping I might sleep through it, which seems to be a recipe how people die sometimes, but seein's Lisa wasn't here at the moment, I decided I'd just as soon take my chances and sleep.

      And that did not work out well at all.  People who have never been in the South.  Never been to Texas in the Spring.  Never witnessed a thunderstorm here have no idea.  It's like no place I've ever been during a storm before.  I awoke about a half hour after going to bed with a dry mouth thanks to the Benadryl I'd just had. I got up to get  a drink of water and then I heard the far off sound of Thunder.  

       That Thundering seemed to travel a mile a minute as each subsequent sound became louder.  And I'd give it no more than ten minutes and it was upon me, everybody around me.  First the far off flash of lightning that seemed to be getting brighter with each boom until both were occurring continuously.  As if someone outside were bangng one of those loud gongs and running an arc welder simutaneously.  No, I'm lying.  Compound that by a hundred and then throw a semi load of small ice balls in.  Along with a wind that went from a breeze to about sixty miles per hour.  Think of that scene in War of the Worlds, the explosive flashing reflected through the window.  

   The lights tended to blink some after the loudest booms and I decided to turn on the television while also checking the weather app.  Both indicated we were receiving our second Tornado warning of the night.  That's one of those minutes where you're glad your wife is out of harms way, visiting our daughter in Nevada, but at the same time thinking it really does suck to be alone right now.   

      So for the next half hour or so I watched the warnings scroll along the bottom of the screen telling me to take shelter in a substantial structure.  I looked around, hell the 5th wheel was more substantial than the one we were in last year. 

    Then the scrolling words across the bottom of the screen said, "if you are in an RV or mobile home, leave now and seek shelter".  I sat back in my chair, listened to the hammering hail on the roof and decided that particular action was not likely to occur either.

     After about a half hour or so of sitting being pleasantly  surprised that my buttocks contained muscles that I could squeeze whenever I wanted, the words at the bottom of my tv screen said, "Storm is weakening, go to bed"  or thats what I thought I read in my Benedryl and Wine slightly affected mind.  So I did, and just as I remember drifting off to sleep, I heard in the distance, booming, not in the direction the sound had gone, but where it came from.  And then I just dropped off to sleep.

    So, it had a statistically significant happy ending anyhow.  Because there really isn't all that good a chance I'd find myself in the center of an F one through three Tornado, spinning wildly. Which from my childhood, would likely prompt me to start saying stupid and ridiculous words just to hear what they sounded like while one was spinning, oh yeah wildly.

      Anyway, two Tornado's did strike within twenty miles from here, relieving a couple of houses of their just rebuilt Harvey roofs, as the news put it.

       And I was asked again why I moved to Texas, because today was gorgeous, and the after storm nighttime sounds of the bullfrogs and Cicada's is really the stuff of movies. 

     But damn those Tornado's.

Gangster's Perdition, it's baaaaaaack

This  book, Gangster's Perdition is a work that I am proud of but not necessarily one I'd read as a bedtime story.  This is the finished and oh so different version that I outlined in this blog over two years ago.  My first book and would love feedback on.

I created the book cover myself.  The scurrious looking individual is my son Dan.  Who graciously allowed me to use some of his art in the creation of this cover.

Friday nights, alright

    I abandoned this blog over a year ago and only recently picked up on it again.  At one time I'd inserted a number of nice touches such as a photo slideshow.  But that is a thing of the past, the Host programs have since moved on.
     Neverthless..... one needs to soldier on.

    So Lisa has left me to batch for a few weeks while she makes her annual pilgramidge.  She's currently in Boise.  She's always done this, but it used to be called different names.  National Lampoon Vacation comes to mind.  It's probably good for both of us.  I could see her visibly restless for quite some time.  She needs family time, Sister time, most importantly Grandbaby time.   So, like men all over the world, I probably should watch myself a little more closely.   Funny but true.  Guys with too much time on their hands tend to get a little funny like that.

      My Uncle Carl, my Mother's last sibling died.  I'm still processing that.  So's my Mom. She's Heartbroken.  So's Loris, married since 1961.  We've spent alot of time these last five years in Austin.  What we expected back then was a brief tour of Texas, a brief stopover at relatives and then on to Florida, our original objective.  Yeah, that was over five years ago.  We have yet to go South of Corpus Christi.

       Carl was a Man's Man.  Owned his first Airplane at 16.  Surreptitiosly, well likely not, took me up in one when I couldn't have been more than four.  How do I know that? Well before I ever took my first real airplane ride I retained a fuzzy memory, including a Red Airplane, which happened to be one of Carl's.  If it honestly did not happen, please don't tell me.  It's such a great memory.

      At the Funeral, we told Loris we'd be back in a few months.  She joked that she must still be in the family.  Duh.  I know in many cases this is a real fear.  My Dad automatically assumed he was out after my folks split in 1992.  Which was a shame.  He enjoyed spending time in Blackfoot.   So when Carl and Kenny showed up on his doorstep for a visit he was surprised as anyone.  His exile was self imposed and its a shame because everybody is now gone.  We'll be swinging by Austin for quite some time.  But we'll miss Carl.  I'm not even going to go over the litany of his accomplishments.  That was well covered during the Funeral.  But to the last, even though he'd look at you and you knew in your heart he had no idea who you were, he held on to that sweet personality that I remembered when I visited Carl and Loris with Grandma in Sacramento, California nearly fifty years ago.

      I maintained contact with my Ex's family for many years.  On her death, my main concern was my son.  I've been disassociated I suppose from them because I rejected a plan that I don't think was in anyway in his best interests at the time.   But I ensured he followed through with the proper handling of her remains.  That he got the certificates ordered,  collected the things of importance which he might hand down to his children, if he ever has any.  Collected up her Cat which he has to this day, and has had since she was a kitten.  When he got back to Twin Falls, Danny set up a memorial that I video'd.  They have little to complain about.  

      An Ex who dies is more mourned for the pain it causes the children you both had.  It's too bad things worked out that way, but it is what it is.

      The thing is, Funerals tend to be awesome family get together's.  Carl's was no different. I suspect he'd be fine with that. And it's been an exceptional pleasure meeting relatives that I haven't seen for generations.

     Housekeeping.  Watching an old Concert of Highwaymen, "Willie and Waylon and the boys".  I wathed the harp player as if he were under a microscope.  And each note he played, (I have no idea how good he was, only the pieces he was playing.)  And I'd have no difficulty replicating each and every one of them.. What that guy has that I don't?  Music is hardwired from an early age.  Myself at 63 trying to rewire my brain is a bit pathetic.  But damn it is one of the funnest things I've done for awhile.  As well as enjoying the old stuff, Big Walter, Sonny Boy Williamson, Sonny Terry,  Charlie Musselwhite.  It's a new world

     Speaking of, they say one of the things a man should do in his life is build a house, write a book, do things like keep Bees etc. Does making your own Beer count? Anyway, I'm on the cusp of actually finishing one.  I've been working on it two years.  Damn, it's fiction, it's weird and dystopian but every time I get away from it, go back and review, I amaze myself.  I'm a rotten writer, but damn I'm proud of this.  Anyway I suspect I'll get it on Amazon in a week or two. Whoever said write a thousand words a day is full of crap. You'll just wind up going back and dumping most of it.  It's a process. 

      And that's all that is on my mind this lonely Friday night, 15th day of March, 2018. 
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Harvey

    After Harvey, nearly 6 months later....  Hundreds of high-end boats either stacked or piled up like Cordwood.  It looks like a Salvage Company has only recently taken up this project.

   
 That being said, much has occurred this past year.  On top of the list is that our adopted Texas home was devastated by a Hurricane.  One that made landfall squarely on Rockport, Texas.  Everything about this has been weird talking to those who stayed or came back right after.  The Storm moved from a 1 to a 4 in the space of two days.   Most of the folks here opted to leave for places in Austin or San Antonio.

We were in Oregon as the thing blew in as a Cat 4.  It's really difficult to not feel guilty when so many here lost so much.  But its also truthful to say that our more personal belongings were left in a brand new Cargo Trailer we'd bought to empty out a storage unit, while I'd also just bought a boat that I had high plans for.

It's also hard to describe what it feels like imaging your substantial investment waiting patiently for a storm bearing winds of over a 130 mph to barrel in, in real time while you're a couple of thousand miles away.  That if you were just there,  but you aren't and you're just going to have to live with that.  Can't get there in time if you set out now, and would likely be blocked from access very far away anyhow.


We cut our trip short and started the two thousand mile trip home mindful that if we arrived to soon, we'd be, in fact, blocked from access.  Initially our understanding was nobody could get in here anyhow.

About a week earlier I'd found an NOAA flyover sight that allowed you to magnify over the area your House, Trailer etc was located in order to assess the damage.  Though we could only see a small section, it looked like we might have had a bit of luck.   Harvey Imagery We'd also found some FB postings about the condition of the RV park.

I had visions of all of our personal possessions either destroyed by water or missing entirely.  The brand spanking new 14 foot Cargo Trailer we'd also purchased a few months earlier, utterly destroyed.

The boat I'd purchased that Spring sitting upside down in the road, or maybe in a Tree.  As it turned out there existed a bit of damage but we were vastly more lucky than others.

We'd driven that day from the North side of Waco, stopped to check up on Danny in College Station.  Though we'd thought we might stay overnight, a conversation with the Park Mgr, Owner, whatever convinced us she was attempting to gouge us beyond belief for simply one Night. So after a brief but nice visit, we opted to head for Rockport to find out once and for all how bad this was.

Fifty or so miles from the Coast, even in the Nighttime, we began to see the damages from Harvey.  Even that far inland trees were laid over and some buildings had collapsed.

    A few miles from our destination, we began to wonder if even after these past couple of weeks would it be possible to get to our lot.  

    Driving by some  parks where entire rows of RV's were still lying on their sides.  A Class A Motorhome on its top.  It's difficult to describe the level of damage or the impression that leaves on someone just arriving.  Debris piled twenty feet high on each side of the road in some places.

   The road was clear and we managed to drive right up to our lot.  The temp was hovering around 90 with almost the same level of Humidity.  Mosquitos the size of bees, even at that time of night.  I began to try and comprehend how miserable the night was to be until damn, if the Owner didn't roll up on his four-wheeler and told us Power had been restored that day and turned it on for us.  When you hoped, but really thought that AC would be unavailable, this was a godsend.  Not so lucky for the many it seems who were residing in tents in front of demolished homes.

Even now months later, not a viable apartment is available anywhere in the area.  

    One of the first things that struck me on my first drive around the next day. 

    Complexes containing tens and maybe more, as well as high end Condos, all destroyed.  Not to the ground but with Roofs and Walls missing.

     As it turned out we were unbelievably lucky.  For some weird reason, the only damage the boat incurred was a bent Hand Crank mounted on the Tongue.  The Cover, (ordered from Walmart) had even remained on throughout the Hurricane.  Remember, these were 130 MPH winds.  The collapsed Boat Barn is in the background.

Harvey Tested

   This Oak Tree snapped off just a few feet from the boat.



   
    The Rv survived, where about a third of those in the park were totaled out.  Some of these Parks down here were completely wiped out.

   Things were a bit shaken around inside the Cargo Trailer leading to a few broken pieces of China, otherwise everything else was bone dry.  "Harvey tested" is the joke around here. I've tried to get the picture out of my mind of someone sitting inside an RV during this time. It really must have been terrifying. There actually were residents of two RV's here who refused to leave.  I've since discussed this with a lot of folks who rode it out.  It's not for me.  Even the most substantial buildings collapsed.  Two that were entirely made of Cinder blocks.

Somebody next to our outfit actually rode out the Hurricane.  The second picture is a rather modest picture of debris leading to our Park.  Much of it has already been removed. This is a Higher End Neighborhood. 

    Benefits to residents seem to have been mostly haphazard, according to the local News Outlets.  I suspect they have a system of some sort.

Roughly 75 yards away this 5th Wheel was rolled over a few times.

What was left of a Boat Barn about 80 yards upwind during the Hurricane.  A 20X20 piece of the Roof weighing several hundred pounds flew that distance to land about 25 feet to the South of the Boat.

We'd tucked our outside Chairs into the Cargo Unit.  But we'd left the Fire Pit outside.  It was missing of course and I considered the possibility that it was swimming with the fishes in the Bay located a half mile South of us.  But a week later we noticed somebody had aquisitioned it to hold assundry shit.  So we reaqusitioned it back.  Bent up a bit but still works.

There are a lot of mysteries about Harvey, just in our little space.  This Decked Stairs weighed at least 200 lbs, was situated next to the Boat.  It was lifted into the air and slammed into Trees about 15 feet away with enough force to snap off one side.  I spent two days repairing it.

                           Picture taken the night of our arrival

                 The condition of our Boat the Night we arrived.

   We managed to get it up and going and the first few times took it out in Port Aransas.  Where still many million dollar Yachts had sunk in their moorings.  Nothing but a Radar mast above water.  Or going by one half sunk.  Pictures I'll never get out of my mind. 

       End of day along the Shrimp Channel

           This is just a small blurb of what it was like coming back here.  I could have taken pictures all day long of damage. Thankfully I didn't.  

 I'm struck though, by the almost supernatural characteristics of these things.  I have been told by a number of folks that sustained winds of a hundred MPH  was bad enough.  Like a cruel game one might see only in a movie, Tornado's, over a hundred of them dropped down from the sky as if mounted on a drill press, did extraordinary damage, and then dissipated into the wind.  The fate of the fifth wheel that had been rolled over and over near here.  And likely the fate of a completely destroyed new home sitting high on piers amongst others just like it.  While the ones on either side sustained little or no damage.  

I'd like to say that we jumped in to volunteer to reconstruct the community, but just putting our small space back together took time and energy.  We helped as we were able.  And we've continued to live while this little town put itself together.  And while Citizens assure us all the time that this is a once in a lifetime event, I don't  wonder if that isn't Naivete and denial of the changes that are occurring in this World.  Something to ponder.....Anyways......

And finally, I feel humbled and a bit pious at the number of folks here who rolled up their sleeves and just went to work rebuilding, helping and restoring.  FEMA gave out some checks but there are a million stories there.  Just as there are in Florida and Peurto Rico, just sayin.  


Something to enjoy here.

            

         

Really?

        The sky is pretty gray outside.  So's my mood.  Couple of days ago I heard that there is a Flu and Cold epidemic going on.  I started worrying about Lisa, because ,I, got a Flu shot.  She didn't.

       She, for perfectly irrational reasons that only she can understand, will not do so. And to the best of my knowledge since living in Texas I have not so much as had a Cold.  So being invincible and all, I decided she should probably hang close to home.  And, I thought, I'd best start washing my hands and using Purell a lot more.  As well as those disinfectant wipes they provide at the stores.  

      So for one whole day, I practiced impeccable hygiene.  That was four days ago.  The last three I've been laid out sick as a Dog.  Only a nasty Cold though, nears I can tell.  And all I can think of is "Every damn time".  So that's it.  Lisa is fine though.

      Here's a Kitten

Monday, February 5, 2018. The Monday after Super Bowl

    Tough Night.  Mostly for gastrointestinal reasons.  Ate the equivalent of two or more meals last night. Hangovers used to be becuz of reasons I consumed somewhere North of a case of Beer.  Anyways.

Can't decide which is worse.  Each have their more unique aspects.  I'm kinda leaning towards too much Food being a little less irksome than Alcohol. Thats what I thought before Noon.

Anyway, did not set well.  Mostly the Hot Wings I suppose, intermixed with the Super Pizza and Super Bowl.  Hard to distinguish which was more exciting.  These nights always leave Lisa a bit miffed as she is a snuggler, and constantly tells me I have amazing skin.  If only my "all the time fragrance" was just as amazing.  And I say: Everything has it's downside".

    Juan and Carisa were going to come over last night.  But Lisa called me during my bi-weekly, once weekly, and sometimes more than once weekly gym visit and told me he'd canceled.  These are young people who I question why they'd want to party, Super Bowl wise,  with folks twice their age anyhow.  Turns out they didn't.

     So after my early rising, near round Ten, and while recuperating from a gastrointestinal hangover, Lisa, who's been up several hours already,  proudly proclaims "I'm registered" as she taps the keys furiously on her brand spanking new Computer, simultaneously "slut shaming" various politicians she's been looking up.  Probably doesn't help that I completely support her in these efforts.

    Anywhooo, my mind is going "registered" damn I'd best be looking that up.  I'd sent in the Card I'd gotten in the mail a couple of weeks ago,  signed the wrong side, scratched that out and signed the front. Deducing from the microscopic print of which I could only discern every fifth or so word,  that, that was the right thing to do.

But living in Texas the last five years, if it didn't teach me one thing, it's don't trust DMV first.  And second, any of the other Bureaucracies in Texas either.

 So, just on the side of caution I reasoned, best check this out.  "When's the last day I asked Lisa?"  "Today," she said.  And in my mind:

"Fuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh", wait this wasn't so hard last I checked it out. 

 So I fired up my old and not so new Computer,  takes a bit longer.    Didn't take long to find the right website and punch in my information.  And sez not only am I not registered, no record of me exists.  The first response is Outrage, second is meh, easily fixed.

 But then the website offers alternative searches from punching in more info.  Aha! Nope.  This one? Nope. Any of em? Nope!

 Finally, I decide to call, which is a big decision considering I have to drive a mile or so to get service.      Armed with a fresh hot cup of Coffee I bravely face the Fog that is one of the bennies of living here.  I  Hop in the Silverado and head to a gas station that seems to be the stopping point of everybody without service where they live.  Which seems to be everywhere within a three-mile radius, particularly when there's Fog about. Three other vehicles were already there as I arrive, the drivers busy with cell phones held to their head.

   So  I'm the cheerful sort.  I subscribe to the philosophy that Honey works better than Vinegar.  Take a sip of the oh so strong Coffee I make, and I call the County Tax Office I'm registered in.  

I describe my plight to the cheerful clerk, who cheerfully answers the phone and, cheerfully tells me she needs to do a bit of research.  I say fine, and she disconnects about five minutes or so, then gets back on the line and says, "nears I can tell you've been removed cuz you are deceased" she says, cheerfully.  I say " No I'm not".  Well, she says, you must be unless you want to call the United States Postal Service a Liar".  No, all I'm saying is I'm not dead", I say.   "Well (a little snippy now), you'll have to call back in about 30 minutes and talk with the person who handles this".  "That is not my department".  In my mind I think "Supervisor"!  AUGGGHHH as Claxon alarms go off in my head. I should have deducted that from the very first moment someone picked up the phone.  These people are all powerful.  I could be froze out forever! These were dangerous waters I was swimming in.  I instinctively drop into survival mode.  "Honey not Vinegar", "Honey not Vinegar", Clerks are friends not the mean Stepmom I never had. "Thank you, I'll call back ."

Well as it turned out I was listed accidentally as dead.  And the helpful Clerk told me she reversed it.  But in an ironic ending, she told me I'd done something wrong with the Card by mailing it back.  That even though it said to return it, that was the wrong thing to do. In fact, I wasn't supposed to do anything with the Card. I should have known that. K, I said.

 Though that had nothing to do with me falsely being listed as deceased.

   And that's the way it was, Monday after Super Bowl, February 5, 2018.
  2018.

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