"Jim Webb; Jim Webb."

Something recently reminded me of when I used to accompany my mom into Salt Lake City on Saturday while she made the rounds between stores shopping for clothes, furniture or whatever happened to be on the list.

There was a department store, Auerbach's, that was along the lines of the fancy New York stores with an elaborate cosmetics department complete with the overdressed, hauty department head who always stood out because of her striking appearance. The place was nice and it was where I made my first announcement about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wanted to be an elevator operator.

Now I was only three or four at the time, I think, (maybe eight or nine; always the under-achiever) and I don't know if it was the actual operation of the elevator, the personality of the guy who did the job or the cool uniform. But it was endlessly fascinating to me that the door would open, we'd get on and the fellow operating the elevator would perform some mechanical manipulations and the door would open onto another floor.

But the best part about going to Auerbach's was that a very elegant and soft-spoken voice would come over the loudspeaker, after the sound of a polite chime, and repeat my name twice.

"Jim Webb," the voice would say as if it were an inquiry. And then again; "Jim Webb," as if it were the answer to a question.

That happened for years. It started when I was too young to know what was going on and my mom probably told me it meant that they were watching me. And it continued until I was in high school. I was sad when I realized that I didn't hear them paging him any more. Whoever the guy was, he worked there for a long time but we never met.

Maybe that's when I first started feeling special. I mean to have my name broadcast throughout the entire store every time I went there and usually several times was sure to make some kind of impression. Gee I may have just discovered the root of my paranoia!

It Feels a Little Funny Being Jim Webb

When I was a kid, I imagined being so famous that I would be on all the talk shows. I couldn't ever come up with a fantasy reason for being famous but that didn't stop me.

I don't want to say that I've given up on that because I really, truly still want to do something in life to make a big difference. I want to be a household name. But I want to be respected, of course. I don't want to be infamous, just famous.

So I'm a little miffed that James Webb has taken my name and made history with it. Don't get me wrong. I'm really, really proud of him. He is a well-respected man and I thrilled with his win in Virginia. But he just made it a little harder for me to achieve my goal!

I will always be known as the other, other, Jim Webb since there was already a famous songwriter named Jimmy Webb. There is only one defining difference, something my dad thought of when I was named. I am really Jim. I'm not James or Jimmy or anything else. My legal first name is Jim.

Lately I've been thinking about all the people I've ever known. Well, not literally. What I mean is that if even for just a second, it's kind of nice that there's a good chance that when they've heard about Jim Webb of Virginia, they've given a thought to me.

A Refreshing Change

Now if we could only go two more years without having to see or hear George Bush (either of them) speak. (Add Barbara to the list too.)

Waking up to today's political news was like having an extra birthday or Christmas coming early. All I hoped for was a proper balance of power in Washington but what we got was a tsunami of change that swept across the whole country. It's a good sign.

Growing up, I heard a lot about "blind faith" in church and was taught that it's each person's responsibility to study the scriptures, pray and develop their own personal relationship with the Lord. And doesn't this also apply to our government and society as well? I feel sorry for all the people who believe everything they've been told. They are ignorant.

I heard a little 12 year-old girl from Idaho on the radio the other day claim that Democrats are immoral and Republicans are blessed by God. Gee. I wonder where she heard that. Her mom got on the phone and said she came to that conclusion all by herself. Right. The poor girl will have some adjusting to do if she ever plans on leaving home or having friends from other countries, religions or backgrounds.

When I left utah in 1986, I was full of ambition and looking forward to a new life in California without dealing with snow and ice in winter and naturalizing myself among the people I'd found so interesting and stimulating in previous visits. An opportunity came and I took it.

Even though life took some very unexpected turns, I don't regret making the move.

What my friends, neighbors and associates don't understand, lately, is how people across this country can be so blind to what's really going on in America. I think parts of this year's campaign made it abundantly clear that entire groups of people have been blinded by their faith in leaders that only wanted the power of their numbers. I feel bad for those people. They were used.

Personally, I think that hearings on impeachment should begin on Monday. Crimes have been committed against this country. We are still dangerous close to a fascist regime, fueled by the passionate throngs of the blind faithful who eat what they're fed and believe what they're told.

The priority must be to take over leadership of the country, though, and try to get things under control. I can understand not wanting to cause more problems by "getting even," as I heard impeachment referred to today. The rest of the world already seems to know what's been happening here. It's vital all Americans know too.

I'm still very worried about the future of this country but yesterday was a refreshing change.

Night Photography

Some of my Flickr friends are expert night photographers. I've been looking at their stuff for a long time now trying to learn from what they do. Most of the time you can click on someone's photo and find an incredible amount of detail about their camera, what their settings were, what time the photo was taken and other details.

The other night our power went out just as Saturday Night Live was about to start. After we got some candles lit and Brad went back to work putting together some savory pastries for next Saturday's party, I went outside to see if I could see how extensive the outage was.

It was nice, for a change, not having so many street lights on. The moon was full, though, so there was plenty of light. I'd like to have the power go out on a night where there is no moon so I can shoot photos of the stars.

But there was a beautiful big ring around the moon so I was excited about capturing it.

Tonight I walked down to Marina Park thinking I could get some nice shots across the bay. But I went to the wrong place. I took a few shots but just came back after seeing a skunk run across my path. There isn't much to see around here although window-peeping came to mind. The driving range is mildly interesting, I suppose, since it's a double-decker. I like seeing the golf balls stuck in random places in the big nets.

I tried to capture a moth in a very intense light but gave up and left a little short of what I hoped for. Still, I think this is an interesting shot. Click on it for a larger size. It's less headachy when it's larger.

Tomorrow is a big day. After voting, I'm going to San Francisco to see a quilt show at the new deYoung Museum. I won't be able to take photos, though, according to what I read because it's a special exhibition. Here's the link: http://www.thinker.org/deyoung/exhibitions/exhibition.asp?exhibitionkey=549 I saw something on PBS about these quilts so I'm excited about seeing them in person.

Enough is enough!

Time doesn't fly when you have "I haven't written anything lately" in the back of your mind every single day.

Whenever I fall silent, and that usually means letter-writing, it seems to indicate some degree of trouble coping or some kind of ailment. It takes me a while to recognize it but then I seem to wake up and realize I'm not well. I don't know why I go through weeks of torture, though. That doesn't make sense. But it has something to do with grinning and bearing it only for me it's more like grimacing and enduring it.

My psychological care at Kaiser Permanente leaves quite a lot to be desired. My personal physician has taken over the prescription of medicines because I've been relatively stable for a long time. Visits to my psychiatrist always make me angry because it's blatantly obviously that I am unimportant compared to the stacks and stacks of folders of real psych cases piled all around the office. There's little interaction. Ah, I don't want to discuss this because it's a real sore subject. Everyone I've seen has either moved to a different facility or retired. The one time I tried to find someone new ended in a big fiasco.

It feels like I'm falling over a cliff, about to devulge lots of personal information. So I have to watch myself because I never save drafts of these entries to be published later. I just blurt it out and I'm done. I've never done more than fix a typo.

But lately my headaches and TMJ issues have gotten so much worse again that I'm beginning to think I may go nuts. I don't know what the cause is. I see my doctor regularly and, in fact, just saw him a couple of weeks ago. I had a headache then too. And I told him. I guess I expect by now that if I say I have a headache he should realize that I have a massive headache. Just like when I say I have trouble sleeping and my dreams are disturbing. That means I am tormented by nightmares and never, ever feel rested.

A few months ago I switched one of the ingredients of my psychological cocktail from Prozac to Celexa. It was supposed to have a positive effect on my libido but I think that boat sailed and sunk a long time ago. Anyhow, since then things have gone downhill. I think I just realized that even though my doctor has encouraged me to stick with it a while longer because "it takes a long time for the medication to re-wire your brain," I think I'm done with it. The OCD symptoms have started again. I hear a constant buzzing in my head. Phrases, tunes and words repeat in my mind until I want to scream. Maybe I should scream. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a BAD TRIP.

The headaches could be caused by something from the other medication cocktail I take. What a mess I am. I take medication to keep from getting sick but those meds make me sick so I have to take more stuff to help that but they have side-effects too and it just keeps going until I have to stop somewhere and just deal with it because there is no frigging end to it.

I thought that maybe if I wrote about how miserable I've been that maybe the curse would be lifted. That's unlikely. I have decided, though, that I'm going to contact my nurse and spill my guts. Maybe I'll just send her a link to this entry.

My 48 year-old body is a walking glossary of medical problems. One of my most hideous ailments is plantar fasciitis. Look it up. It's disabling. Hey! What a coincidence. I'm on disability. But seriously, it's the WORST. I never imagined I'd have mobility issues like this with anything short of a broken leg or a double amputation. The pain coming from the bottoms of my feet is second only to what that poor captive writer must have felt in the movie Misery (with Kathy Bates and James Caan.)

I've had cortisone injections in both heels twice now but that just masks the issue. The podiatrist says we need to find the cause. "We?" I haven't gone back because I'm afraid he'll want to cut tendons in my feet and that scares me. So I suffer. What a loser I'm sounding like to myself.

Enough for now. Go check out my photos on Flickr to see what else I've been up to. I do manage to have a life even though for the most part I'd rather be dead. No, I take that back. I'll feel much better after election day when enough people come to their senses and begin to put America back together again.

I advise all who read, though, to stock up on food, buy a gun and prepare to take back the country the old fashioned way in case this election gets stolen too. Enough is enough!

Okay, now to write that letter to my nurse.....