Sorting stuff.

So today I went up to Rainier and unloaded my trailer while Brian screwed things to the roof.  Got everything out, and then Brian came down off the roof and did most of the work of nailing up a couple of sheets of masonite board to the roof, holding the insulation panels in place.  Original intent was to also do the front wall and front sides, but we ran out of steam, repacked everything not sorted to the garbage back into the trailer, and called it a day.

Given yesterday's urology appointment, I wore a diaper, but as we were working on Brian's farm, I could pee on a bush at need, so I didn't have to spend the day in a soggy diaper.  Bladder control is back up to about a one-minute warning, which isn't real good, but I'll take any improvement I can get.

Next time in Rainier, help Brian finish screwing down the flashing on the roof -- about half done right now, but sufficient to keep things dry inside when it rains tomorrow -- unload it again, seal the four rat-entrances at the front with steel wool and expanding foam,  insulate and Masonite the front and front sides, and load it all back up again.

Most immediately, write back to Julia at Portland Forward, noodge Isabela and Samantha at NextUp, write up my two new project plans, and find out who to contact at Sunrise and Wayfinding and do so.  My contact at Renew is Sonny Mehta, but until I have the two new plans done I don't have anything to say that he'd be interested in hearing.

I was hoping to have enough energy to shower before falling over, but it ain't happening.  G'night.

Much ow.

Today started with a urology appointment.  I have decided that I do not like having cameras shoved up my dick, no matter how tiny they are.  This likely generalizes to shoving things up my dick in general, but I do not desire to perform the experiment to find out.

The cardiology appointment which followed was routine, and I went from there to the Indivisible weekly protest outside Sen. Wyden and Rep. Blumenauer's offices.  That turned out to be a waste of time; same old people doing same old stuff -- only they've been doing it long enough now that the news stations have started to notice it, I saw 3 professional cameras in evidence.  So I left to get lunch at the nearby mall, and somewhere in there my body figured out it had been insulted and I lost bladder control and started peeing blood.  Fortunately, I made it to a bathroom on time -- this time.

Foolishly, I decided to continue on my Good Samaritan errand, and went to Megan's house to check out the mess her suddenly-departing husband had left of their mid-renovation kitchen.  I'd stopped peeing blood at this point, but bladder control had not returned, and I peed myself twice en route.  Got done with that, got home, put clothes in laundry, and spent the rest of the afternoon peeing a painful quarter-cup every five minutes or so.

We already knew my prostate was enlarged, and as a result of the camera-poking we have determined that my urinary system is otherwise fine.  Yay.  Still, ow.

Tomorrow I go up to Brian's for another round of work on the trailer -- probably wearing Depends while so doing.  TWo or three steps to finish the roof and be done with that part, and I also want to get everything *out* of the trailer and inventoried, and put in the insulation on the front part and roof and nail plywood over it to seal it in.  For bonus points, install the second window.  Window or not, then repack the trailer with everything I'm not throwing away, and back to Portland.  That's probably going to end up being two days work.  I also want to get my response off to Julia at Portland Forward, and continue researching Sunrise, Wayfinding, and Renew.  Also continue writing Iron Fireman, detailing his neglect by his namesake and his turn to NextUp to become the VoteBot.

That's enough planning.  Bedtime.

Generating a new idea.

So after two great days in a row, today was a flop. Got the weekly done with the boys, and I did have enough sense to stay in out of the heat, at least.  I was hoping to edit all my papers, and with luck remember the 8th subject I'd come up with and lost, but didn't remember #8 and upon reading the existing 7 didn't find the lacunae I had been expecting to fill.  And then it took me six hours to figure out that I was stuck and move on to something else.

So far I've located 3 other organizations with youth-related foci:  Sunrise, Renew Oregon, and the Wayfinding Academy.  (NextUp and Portland Forward were already on the list.)  Sunrise and Renew are both heavily climate-oriented, and none of my ideas so far have been both climate-centered and human-scaled.  So I should come up with one.  Or a few.

The two most immediate would be bikes and public transit.  If we could make operating cars in the City more expensive, that would a.) provide funds and b.) discourage car use and thus encourage any other form of transit.  My first idea is raising the rates on parking meters combined with increasing the taxes on for-profit parking spaces, such as parking garages.  Extending metered parking to more areas such as the inner East side should also be part of that.  That should go along with specific recommendations for how to use the funds to improve bike and other nonmotorized transport.

We have hordes of those electric rent-a-scooters sitting around also.  I do wonder what's going to happen with them when some of the companies providing them go bankrupt, which is I suspect inevitable.


A good and productive day. Now, more.

So yesterday I started by writing and sending off a couple of difficult contact letters to organizations that are now making loud claims about doing what I've been doing for years -- "We should really talk" letters.  I also hung up the robot suit from last night, and made several necessary phone calls.  Then I got a haircut and went to volunteer at a NextUp -- ex-Bus Project -- canvassing, and met two high schoolers, one named Giuseppe and the other whose name I didn't retain.  The three of us have an as-yet unscheduled breakfast date.

The structure of what I want to create is a Program Support Office.  It would be useful to name the program it's supporting, but I haven't done that yet and I'm not sure I should -- maybe I should let Giuseppe name it, or one of his cohort.  There's only one key difference between a PSO and a Program Management Office like I set up at Bowne or Novix -- no command authority.  I'll get back to that later.  For a working name, let's call it the Metaculture Program.  I have six project proposals for it, which are in writing but in bad need of editing, which is on today's list.  Those are Citizenry, Positive Proxy, Arcology, Cascadia/Steampunk Synthesis, oh-damn-I-forgot-one, and Metaculture.

There are three other organizations I've identified so far which are also doing the same thing, for which I need to find contacts and send "we should talk" letters.  Also on today's list.  Even without the mundane tasks of weekly scrum and getting some exercise, that's a hell of a list.  And I'm feeling really good about it and want to get moving on it.  Daily scrum with Zack in fifteen minutes, then I can get back to work.  Yay!

Next Up, and how many different ways it can be corrupted.

I am back from the Bus Project Renaming Party. They are now NextUp, proving once again that hiring marketing consultants is generally catastrophic. Robot suit was a big hit, but didn't give me a chance to table and hand out papers as I had hoped. But I now have draft copies of my papers to edit, mark up, illustrate, and so on. And new bizcards.  I've already followed up with 'em via email.

New plan is to contact all the different political groups that are trying to co-opt the youth vote, and use 'em as platforms to help the youth co-opt *them*, instead.

Upcoming week identified. Torpedoes, Captain?

Presentation day is Friday.  I have seven papers I want done by then, and I'm done with three and 90%+ done with #4.  And there's also getting 'em printed; my local Office Max closed last month, so I need to find a new place.  Still to be done are Metaculture, Cascadia/Steampunk Synthesis, and Macroeconomic Modeling.

And I've figured out that for the second edition, each paper should have two half-page illustrations, and take up *both* sides of the page.  That's for later, tho'. Right now is going to be interfered with by spending tomorrow and Wednesday getting a sleep study done, so the Doctor can be as sure as I am that I'm getting terrible sleep.  Evidently me telling him is insufficient evidence.

I've done my first set of calisthenics with my new-to-me dumbbells.  Maybe later today I'll do another set.  Eventual objective is three sets of three different exercises, with no two adjacent sets working the same muscle groups.  Two minutes per exercise, a minute rest between sets.  Not leaping straight into that right away, but not going to go a day without doing *something* any more.

Half a dozen bits of contact work to do today, and I want to get one paper written.  Might as well get started.

Iron Fireman presentation complete

It went as well as could be expected.  We blew the socks off the low-level corporate flunkey we met with, the limit of whose authority is to buck us one level up the chain of command, which he has agreed to do, and I am to call him late tomorrow morning to find out how that went.

I didn't have to rely on the Depends I bought for the occasion, which was pleasant.  (I was *not* about to try grabbing my dick with the channelock pliers the costume uses for hands.)  OTOH, I now know better than to try wearing this on the long bus trip I'd need to get to the week-from-Friday event; I'll canvass my friends for who has a car and is feeling charitable.

And I picked up the bison meatloaf ingredients.  Might make that tonight.  Then to get to work on ops research.

Gabe went home.

I'm still working on *how* to do creative-and-political writing, campaign research, and 15 events next week. Time management itself would be easy; this is harder. Each class of work requires a completely different mindset, and I still need to devise and implement hot kernel-swapping in my brain. And the pile of papers grew another one, 'Fury'. Why it's not merely good but *necessary*, and how to handle it and what to do about it.

Gabe's a great guy, he could probably figure out how to have fun while literally on fire. I'm not that talented, but can mostly follow his lead. He and Grandpa got along well, and there were no out and out catastrophes with Carole, so I'll call that a win.

I will have to figure out on an ongoing basis how to deal with Dad, who's still *mostly* there but not *all* there, if you get the distinction. While the cause of this is easy to spot -- his poor judgment in getting involved with Carole -- I need to err on the side of respecting his agency rather than leaping to his defense. This is out of practicality, not ethical issues -- he has always been and no doubt continues to be very protective of that agency, and will turtle up immediately if he has any suspicion it is being challenged.

I owe J a call, which will be mildly logistically tricky because she's at her best in the evenings, and during and shortly after dinner are the only remaining times when Dad is reliably social. A bit more than shortly after, and the TV eats him.

And so, to quote a departed-but-still-dear author, it goes.

Reintroducing Gabe and his grandpa

So I'm as ready for tomorrow's trip as I can get. Still need to put the CPAP machine, the computer, and the pillow in my backpack, and take the meds laid out on the dresser, and that's it and I'm out the door.

Gabe hasn't seen Dad since Mom's funeral five years ago. And Dad wasn't company then, he was busy. And there's much less of him now. Dad will enjoy the fact of Gabe's visit, but he spent sixty years (okay, minus four months) dedicating his life to keeping Arlene happy, and Carole is a poor substitute. *Dad* doesn't care, so I'm certainly not going to complain to him about his choice in girlfriends -- after all, look what *I* married. If he thinks he's happy and can maintain that for the rest of his life, good for him.

There is of course the minor problem that he may outlive Carole, too. He's in as good shape for 87 as anyone I've seen, and could easily last another ten years. Carole's 84, and in pretty good shape for her age also, but if she dies at 90 nobody would blink. But neither of them seems likely to kick off while Gabe and I are visiting this week. It just leaves me in an odd position re: Gabe when I try to explain to him why Murray is important. The available evidence doesn't support my assertion.

I'm cautious about overloading either of 'em. I like intense discussion, and the only person who could stay with me on a roll was Murray when he was 30. Gabe is too much of a good soul; if I wear him out he's likely to wait 'til he's actually falling over before he begs me to shut up. And Murray, of course, is 87, and would not surprise me if he got tired saying 'hello'. On his good days, he's still all there and strong and vital -- it's just that the good days keep getting further and further apart. We'll be there for a week, Dad might be 'on' all week, or none of it, and it's not something under his control.

That's enough overthinking for the night. It's now 10pm, and I need to be out the door at 6:50am. Bedtime.