Inside your local polling place

I know that you all appreciate your local election officials and are always patient and cheerful. As an election worker, that makes my job almost fun. Let me tell something about the workings of a polling place in California.

I have been working at my friend B's precinct for 5 years at least. It is in her former garage, now a cozy away-from-it-all den. B has gathered a group of us who work with her every election. The basic group numbers 5 persons and she augments it with student volunteers or a family member for the larger elections. B is the Inspector and the rest of us are Board Members.

We have the opportunity to attend a training session in the weeks before each election for which we receive $25. Our pay for the election is $80. The official day is 13 hours long plus an hour before the poll opens to set up the last minute stuff and and an hour or two afterwards to balance the number of ballots (voted, spoiled, unused) with the number of signatures and to break down and box up the booths and materials. That comes to $5.33 an hour. Obviously we don't do it for the money.

Why do we do it? Some has to and we do get a good feeling from it and many voters thank us. More importantly, we have a good time. Whether we have 21 voters (a recent county primary with nothing important at issue) and 748 as in the November 4th election, one voter per minute. We pride ourselves on handling the voters respectfully and efficiently. We did have a wait of an hour during the early hours, but that gradually shortened until there were no lines after noon or so. Strangely, we do not experience a rush in the 5pm to 8pm period.

Working in the same neighborhood election after election allows us see the voters as acquaintances. We have a some who always vote and we know many of them by name. In the recent presidential election, our voters were serious and patient. We managed to solve nearly every problem that came up, thanks to provisional voting. That helps keep voters happy. The process that keeps poll workers happy is the absentee ballot or early voting.

My most unusual election experience? In the presidential election of 2004, a man, seeing an old piano in a corner, offered to play patriotic music for us. He played probably everything he knew, then voted, and played it all again.

In this community we have the opportunity to rent tiny garden spaces. I have two: one has Dick's roses, specially chosen for their fragrance, and other grows veggies. As it happened, I totally neglected the gardens for two months. I won't bother you with my excuses. I finally went to the garden place with a bit of dread. After all, this is southern California, a semi-desert that requires irrigation to produce anything green.

My veggies were kaput as expected except for a shoot from a tomato plant that actually had flowers and some tiny baby tomatoes. The roses looked terribly dejected and neglected. I felt really guilty. Then I noticed that the smallest of them had two buds about to bloom. The next day I cut them and named them Hope. They adorned my dining table for a week.

High school reunions

Some people love high school reunions; others are 'lost' and wouldn't dream of attending. I once read a column (Sydney J. Harris in the Chicago Daily News) that we live our lives depending on how we think we were perceived in high school. We must prove (to ourselves?) that were not geeky/dumb/ugly or that we really are smart/good looking/popular. It makes enough sense to me that I have remembered it for upwards of 40 years. What do you think?

Anyway, I just attended my 55th reunion. I have no regular contact with my classmates although I do think well of most of them. We were about 250 graduates. Ninety-three persons including spouses attended. Many have joined me in moving to warmer climes. All conversations were cheery and positive. No talk of previous occupations and successes. No political, religious, health, or money talk. Children were sometimes interesting topics. Grandchildren were statistics, e.g., "5". Current activities were the most interesting with most enjoying their retirement years. Lots of good talk about those not present, but in contact with attendees.

What's not to like? I say, go if you can manage it. You will have fun and come away sure that you turned out OK.

Flute Choir

The Flute Choir performed in public at the LA Music Fest September 28--40 or 50 flutes, piccolos, alto flutes, bass flutes. We played passably, but that isn't the issue. Adults who developed some skill playing a musical instrument in childhood can still have fun playing together. I learned this years ago playing in a community concert band. Actually, we didn't care if we ever gave a concert; we just liked to make music together. Unfortunately, the opportunities for this are rare.

For me, there is extra fun playing in such a group with my children. T and Green Bean played with me in the community band (sax and flute) for several years. And Tracy and I played in the Flute Choir the past two years. And this year I had the extra fun of playing duets with a granddaughter who has been studying the oboe.

Catching up

No big projects are in store for me--except restoring my two tiny gardens in the Community Garden. They are 5' x 8'. One contains Dick's roses that I have resolved to take care of. The other grows vegetables. Swiss chard is my best crop. It should be obvious to me that in a climate that is usually warm or hot and has rain only in the winter that gardens need constant tending and watering. Well-----I haven't gone near them for about two months. I finally had time and energy last Sunday. Oh, they were pitiful. But there were some delightful signs that all was not lost. One Swiss chard plant had some new leaves and one tomato plant, despite being dried up, had a new baby shoot complete with a flower and hope of fruit. The roses had mostly dry leaves, but one bush had a bud just beginning to flower and a second bud. So all is not lost.

So I promise to go over there every other day and water and pull weeds and dig my fall garden. I ordered new seeds this morning.

The best lesson of gardening is that we are only helpers. Something else more tenacious does the growing.

A Full Truck

Update: Clothing drive

The clothing drive for the Downtown Womens Center exceeded all of our expectations. During the two days of the official drive, bags, and more bags, and boxes of clothes poured in. We transferred the smaller bags into large black trash bags so they would be easier to handle. When the truck arrived to take all the bags to the DWC, it was a small pickup. The driver loaded the cargo area and the passenger seat full. Then more were piled on top. Still there were lots of black bags left. We began to fear for his safety driving with poor sight-lines and an unstable load. Eventually he piled on all the bags and tied the load down securely and cleared enough space to see the right side mirror. He left with a smile on his face. Our faces had big smiles plus extra hints of weariness.

Cats

I have a young cat named Sweetie and Tracy has a slightly older one named JoJo. We planned that each would take in the other's cat when the other was traveling thus saving money and maybe giving the cats new experiences instead of being alone in the house. New experieces, yes, for us AND the cats. But not necessarily good new experiences.

Sweetie had past experiences with other cats and the outside world. JoJo did not. And, cats are territorial. Not a good background mix as it turns out. JoJo had previously stayed with me without any problems. After I acquired Sweetie and JoJo came to visit, the latter was severely threatened and chose to stay under the sofa. We thought things would be better when Sweetie stayed at JoJo's house. Only slightly. Tracy reported that they hissed and spat alot, but eventually seemed to tolerate each other a little. One memorable night, they had a long-running spat under the bed. Poor Tracy, trying to sleep. But one day, Tracy found both of them on the shelf above the refrigerator each sitting in a mixing bowl! What were they thinking?

We may reconsider the wisdom of this arrangement.

Airports

I have been visiting airports: LAX, LAS, BWI, LGA, PVD, CTL and back to LAX. I have flown for years. My first flights were in a seaplane in 1944 in northern Minnesota. Those were memorable. Since my family tends to live in far-flung parts of the country (now, at least, they are all in the good ol' USA), we all are used to the commercial flight biz.

Some observations --- not unique to me, of course:

All airports look alike. OK, there are slot machines at LAS. That was the only distinguishing feature in the five I just visited.

The travelers and gate employees are also the same.

The food outlets are different in each airport, but somehow they are still the same with only a hint of regional cuisines.

The passengers pass their time, and there is lots of it, quietly and with resignation. Most seem to be largely occupied by electronic devices. Most of the rest are reading paperback books. A few are sleeping. I was following the trend with my BlackBerry and paperback book. Only one airport had TV and it was being studiously ignored.

There is almost no interaction between strangers. If interaction is necessary, it is polite.

Has anyone found a way to enliven the airport experience? Please tell me. And don't tell me to get in a nice walk. I am dragging my suitcase wherever I go. Literally.

Georgia-Russia conflict III

It was a microscopic gesture, but my heart was in the right place. There I was at an ethnic grocery store buying a bottle of Georgian wine and 2 of Borjomi mineral water. I have been enjoying both while remembering the happy times when I was drinking them with my new friends in Tbilisi.

The whole idea of a flute choir seems ridiculous to most people. Sometimes it even does to me, but Tracy and I are playing in one. For us, it is fun and challenging. We play in a program of the Music Center called Get Your Chops Back.  This is the second year for us. Interestingly, the program caused me to buy a new flute (our second flute was deemed not repairable) and to take lessons. So there can be benefits for the music business. This year a saxophone group was begun. A guitar group is on-going. 

We will have five practices and then an Open Rehearsal as part of the Music Fest on Grand Avenue September 27. We will be under a tent in front of the Dorothy Chandler. 

Sometimes I amuse myself imaging volunteers in the office of some corporate bigwig trying to convince her/him to donate money for a flute choir.

The situation seems to be much worse for the Georgians than I first feared. They will live in fear of Russia for years. The western nations are supporting them with words and humanitarian relief, but they cannot/dare not stand up to Russia. Nor do I think they should risk armed conflict. Little Georgia is the victim.  The other former soviet states certainly are taking notice.   

I am greatly worried about the fate of the little country of Georgia. As most of you know, I visited there twice under the auspices of The Friendship Force. I stayed 2 weeks in 1990 in the home of the Meskhidzes, Tengis and Ada and their daughters Eka and Lika. Georgia was still under Soviet rule. I spent another week in 1998 after "freedom," staying with the family of Malkaz Dolidze, his wife Tamara (Dod0) Kezeli, and their daughter Nino. I have been able to be in touch with all these lovely people sporadically. Fortunately, some speak English and I have been trying eve since to learn Russian. (Sidebar comment: Russian is greatly out of favor now.)

In the past 15 or so years, Georgia has been supported and encouraged by the West. The current president, Michael Saakashvili, is US-educated. Russian has taken a dim view of all this. A few years ago Russia embargoed Georgian wine and sparkling water, both major exports. There was a messy period in the early 1990s when some areas thought they would be better off aligning with Russia. This is the root of the current hostilities.

The people of Georgia I have met are well-educated and, like us, want to raise their families, have decent jobs, and live in peace and freedom. The country could become a great tourist destination. The Caucasus Mountains are like our Rocky Mountains. The people are hospitable to a fault, and the Black Sea forms the western border.

The similarities between us was apparent in my first visit. Tengis and Ada are my age and the their daughters the ages of my children. To host me and my companion was a huge undertaking. Their apartment was small (about 600 sq.ft.), and they did not have a car. But they were rich in friends and kin. Dick and I would have done the same for our children if the situation had been reversed.

Maybe this post will be a small addition to the major story that is unfolding.

Not far from the Hearst Castle is a rookery where elephant seals congregate. This is a new place for them and apparently they like it as more arrive every year. Tracy and I stopped to see what we could see. 

Lo and behold, there were maybe 40-50 bull elephant seals. Most were snoozing on the warm beach and a few were pretending to be very fierce and practicing their fighting skills. Actually, in July and August they come on shore to molt, i.e. they shed their skin and hair and grow new. The docent there explained that they would be too cold in the water without that layer. The females and younger males come at other, different, times. January and February is the time the pups are born and mating occurs--to the accompaniment of real fighting. The docent said perhaps 1200 pups were born there last year.

The spot is immediately off the highway just below a small bluff. The animals are close enough to observe them closely. It is a really remarkable sight/site.

DOWNTOWN WOMEN'S CENTER, #1

I will be writing a lot about the Downtown Women's Center. Downtown as in Los Angeles. Women as in older female persons without children in tow. And Center as in a place to meet and live.

When it was founded 30 years ago this month, it was the FIRST agency in LA devoted to the problems of homeless women. It has permanent living quarters for 45 women, a day center, social service help, meals, employment assistance, etc. They recently purchased a larger building so they will have 90-100 living quarters and a larger facility in general. They subsist largely on donations of money, time, and stuff. They have little governmental support.

I have gotten myself involved with this through the L.I.F.E. program (Living Independently in a Friendly Environment) here in Park LaBrea. That program is focussed, correctly, on providing support and information to seniors here. However, there was the idea that we should look outside of ourselves and the Downtown Women's Center Action Group was created. I am the coordinator, but the 10-12 members are all very capable.

Our first project is a clothing drive to be held September 26. More later.

This week's painting. I was trying something a little new to me.

Linda and I always wanted to visit the Channel Islands National Park and the opportunity (ie warm weather) came when she was visiting here in early July. The nearest one, Anacapa, is an hour out from Oxnard. To say it is desolate is not an exaggeration. No one lives there; a ranger spends every other week in summer. Everything must be brought in by small boats and hauled up to the top (150 steps for visitors) by a crane.

May and June are the months for flowers. June and July are the time the Western Gulls nest. Thousands of them, all over the place. The chicks fledge in August and all are gone until next year. The other end of the island, which is not accessible by the public, is where the brown pelicans nest.They were formerly endangered, but have come back big time. The ground and air are full of birds.

For would-be birders, The Western Gulls have pink legs, the California Gulls yellow. They are not fully adult for 4 years and their plumage gradually changes from dark gray to the mostly white with gray wings.

Volunteer scuba divers showed us the underwater area and the creatures that live there. Right below where the boat comes is a kelp forest. The divers, via closed circuit TV, showed us a small shark, a Garibaldi (a bright orange fish that is the State Marine Fish) guarding its eggs, a sea urchin, and a spiny lobster. Since Linda and I do not plan to scuba dive, it was a marvel to behold.

Andy, will you share some of Ted's experiences at Boy Scout camp? He's the first of the bunch to go to sleep-away camp.

Good advice

Thank you, Tim and Andy, for the good advice. Good points made by both of you. I will work on the email address thing later today. I am a little distressed first comments don't appear. I read them and enjoyed them, but can't get them on the blog.

Problem solved, I hope

Apparently some of you posted comments, but they did not appear. Boohoo. I think I have resolved that issue. If you do not see a comment you have posted, please email me. I want this to be a 2-way street as much as possible.

http://www.blogger.com/moderate-comment.g?blogID=1949802312486808738

Tracy and I are preparing for the coming anniversary of Dick's death. This is a time when grief revisits big time. As at Christmas, we have decided to be together for mutual support without distractions. We will be in San Luis Obispo staying at the Apple Farm. Linda and I have visited the area twice and found interesting things to see--wineries, quaint museums, an ostrich/emu farm, beaches, and SLO itself. This will be Sunday, 7/27-Wednesday, 7/30. Everyone finds their own way at such times. I hear that that Tim will 'wash his car.'

I expect that this will be the last published reference to my sadness. My new life is progressing well. I am enjoying the newness of it and the possibilities. I am keeping on keeping on, a good Southern expression

My blog is OK so far. Now it needs comments from you so it doesn't became totally one-sided. What do you think? What can you add?

A beginning

Hello to whoever is out there. This a my newest project in communication. I hope this blog will provide us with another means of keeping in touch. I will not guarantee how often I will add to it, but I will write as the spirit moves me, add images of my latest paintings and photos, and anything I find interesting. In general, I will try to convey my little life to my family and interested friends. And I hope that you all/y'all will read it and do something like this yourselves.

To start, here is a photo of my new cat, Sweetie. She is nearly a year old and already has a checkered past. The story I heard is that she had an owner (who obviously socialized her well), but had a stillborn litter and ended up at a vet's. There she was spayed and lived in a cage which wasn't to her nature. She chewed off the fur at the base of her tail. Eventually she found herself at a Petco being adopted by me. She is an entirely satisfactory pet: sits on laps, sleeps on beds, and greets me at the door. She is outgoing and goes to anyone who comes in my house. She doesn't try to go outdoors, a big plus.