The Bosque

Why Fontbonne University will no longer get my support, time or money

2010-03-07T19:03:00.000-06:00

April was elected to serve as President of the Fontbonne University Alumni Association in May 2008...she ran unopposed, and was voted in by the 25-member board. When elected, the person serves 2 years as incoming president, 2 years as president and 2 years as outgoing president. I don't quite understand that, but...

April was scheduled to take office as president in May 2010. However, she was advised just before Christmas that she was being removed from her position. As it was originally explained to her by the current president, the Advancement department (which oversees the alumni board) decided to replace her with someone that would be good with fund-raising. April has extensive fund-raising experience, having done it at both the YMCA and St. Louis Children's Hospital...but no one from Advancement bothered to ask her about it.

After April exchanged some e-mails with the Director of Alumni Relations, the director wanted to meet with her to clarify the reasons she was removed from the board. This meeting took place January 4 at the St. Louis Bread Company on Clayton Rd. in Clayton. I was in attendance, along with April and the director.

During the meeting, April was told that she is just not the right fit, that some folks found her too negative and that she should take a break from volunteering, based on her recent career and life changes. This decision was ultimately made by Marilyn Sheperd (the Vice President of Institutional Advancement). She was offered the opportunity to say it was a resignation, but April refused.

I think that April was booted out because she does not have "good credentials" right now, and because she's very honest (though tactful). She was fairly elected by a 25-member alumni board, and had never been told that she was doing anything wrong or acting improperly. Only one specific example was used regarding her negative behavior, and it was a situation that I would say is subjective. Never mind the hard work she put in...never mind that she really believed in getting more alumni involved with the school...never mind that my wife is the one of the sweetest people you will ever meet. She pissed off the wrong person...the alumni board had no say-so, and no one in Advancement was willing to push to retain her.

In the end, it's all good...we will donate our support, time and money to causes that want it. I assume that Marilyn Sheperd is within her rights to make this removal, and if so, I respect her decision. But as long as she is involved with the University, I will not be.

Stopgap measure

2010-03-06T20:33:00.001-06:00

So you might have noticed by now that the "new" address for The Bosque is http://blog.thebosque.us. I'm not the biggest tech guy, so I don't quite understand it all...and I'm not gonna go into a super-big explanation. Here goes...

Blogger (whose blogging software I use) is no longer supporting FTP publishing (which is how I used to publish The Bosque) as of May 1. They want everything to switch over to either their own publishing or what they call custom domain...I am on custom domain now, as you probably noticed.

It was a pain in the ass to do it, and I still don't think it all transitioned. But it's working for now, and it'll have to work until I can finally learn WordPress.

I hate when people fuck my shit up...but all you can do is adapt quickly and shine like a diamond.

An endangered species

2010-03-05T22:49:00.002-06:00

Wednesday night, I was on a delivery run out in St. Charles County when I noticed an old pay phone stand. The phone was gone...probably hadn't been there for a while. I don't even think AT&T does pay phones anymore.

Seeing the stand made me think about how rare pay phones are these days. When I was a kid, a lot of them still had rotary dials and cost 20 cents to use. And I walked to school 10 miles uphill both ways...

But last night, as I was walking into a Walgreens in Bridgeton, I saw one!

I wonder how much it costs to use one these days...I didn't look...

Ohhhh...THAT'S how you know!

2010-03-04T00:01:00.002-06:00

As part of my work uniform, I wear a badge with my photo and full name on it. Which is perfectly fine with me...it easily identifies who I am and makes my job easier. But sometimes, it causes me confusion...

One day last week, I was ordering lunch at a restaurant where you give your name. When it came to the point where the order taker would normally ask my name, she said, "Okay, Terry." And I was like, "What the fuck?! Do I know this person?" Then it dawned on me...name badge.

The other day, I picked up a package from an office...and it's not one I go to regularly. As I was leaving, the receptionist said, "Thank you, Terry." And I was like, "How does she know my...ohhhh!"

Tonight, I stopped to pick up a soda on the way home. As I was pulling out my money, I heard the cashier quietly try to say my last name. I quickly raised my head, but then remembered...name badge!

One of these days, I will finally remember that I wear my name around my neck 9-12 hours a day.

180°

2010-03-03T00:01:00.003-06:00

Where I was eight months ago and where I'm at now are two totally different worlds...

I used to call myself a "merchant of death" on the old forum...for 4 years, I delivered unhealthy food to people. I did deliver a lot of salads...covered in cheese, drenched in full-fat full-flavor dressing. I probably shortened people's lives several years on average.

Today, I regularly deliver lab specimens, blood and platelets to hospitals; architect plans to construction firms and home care products to the sick, some of them 100 miles away from St. Louis. I even delivered an orchid to someone from the Missouri Botanical Garden. And while I did witness death up close and personal a couple weeks ago, I mostly bring life to people and places. I make people happy in a way that lasts longer and doesn't kill them in the end. And I provide a good living for April and me.

I am now a merchant of life...and it feels pretty damn good!

Fun with knives

2010-03-02T00:01:00.001-06:00

I present the first-ever video Manifesto!

We now return you to your regularly-scheduled babbling

2010-03-01T00:01:00.019-06:00

I feel like I'm letting myself down in the blogging world.

There was a point where there was a new Manifesto for 531 days straight (11/20/2004-5/5/2006)...now there are gaps of 2 weeks between posts. I even took a good chunk of last summer off.

I think the problem is that all my good stuff gets condensed down into a small amount of characters and posted on Twitter. And the blog has become an afterthought to me, whereas back in the day, I felt it was an important part of my day to do something with it.

Now, it's not like blogging is like eating or sleeping. But The Bosque has operated in some way shape or form since October 1997, when I created my first website in-between classes at UMSL. So it is an important part of my life...one that I should show more props to. After all, I pay over $100 a year to host this and other websites that I own.

So I need to make this more of a priority. That sounds kind of weird to me, but then I remember that this blog reflects a very important period in my life...my last days in Philly to wooing April to getting married to starting this new business venture. Important indeed!

So I'm gonna try real real hard to blog more...it's fun...it's theraputic...and it's historical!

The autopsy

2010-02-15T19:52:00.000-06:00

My job never ceases to throw me for a loop...

One stop that is becoming regular is at a county Medical Examiner's building...I usually just drop off stuff to be run by their toxicology lab. And that's what I was doing this morning...I think this was one of my first runs of the day. Since it's a holiday today, I had to enter by the examiner's actual office door...normally I just go in through the front door of the building to the receptionist. Two police officers let me in, and I made my way into the building. I've only been to the place a few times, so I didn't remember where the tox lab was. As I walked with the officers, I saw something that I've seen many times on TV...the autopsy room.

I only looked at the scene for a few seconds, but here's what I remember: the ice boxes where they keep bodies; a body on the autopsy table opened up, blood all over the dead man's face and a medical examiner with blood all over his gloved hands.

I didn't get sick or anything, but that was enough for me...I quickly turned around and waited for the medical examiner to come out. Turns out that I went the wrong way...the tox lab was in the opposite direction.

It was all good in the end, but pretty creepy...and kinda funny.

Now I'm a cool kid...for a minute, anyway

2010-02-14T18:50:00.001-06:00

When it comes to technology, I would say that April and I are in the middle of the pack. We don't buy the latest crap right away, but we're not in the stone age. We tend to get lucky, actually...we got a Wii less than a year after they came out, thanks to gift cards from our wedding. We got a new laptop for April at Xmas because we redeemed credit card points for gift cards.

And I now own an iPhone 3GS...because I finally got my unemployment pay from last month, and I can write it off as a business expense. And I have to say...it is a really neat piece of technology. It is amazing what it can do and what you can do with it.

Now I'm going to slay the competition on Foursquare...do you know how many places I visit in a day? Such is the life of a courier...

Now this should be fun...

2010-02-09T07:16:00.000-06:00

So we got ourselves a mild snowstorm here last night...it's nothing compared to what the East Coast got last weekend, but enough to make driving really neat.

I volunteered to stay late last night, and wound up having a kooky woman keep me on the clock for an extra hour. In that hour of being in a holding pattern in the suburbs, the snow was heavy and the roads got pretty bad. My 15-mile drive home was...exciting.

It looks like the snow is pretty much over now...and I get to go try and pick up and deliver packages across the St. Louis area in my little Cobalt. Not sure how busy we're gonna be today, but Lord willing, I won't have to do any backwoods deliveries. I had to do a couple of those during a rain/snowstorm we had last week...wheeeee!

THE storybook ending

2010-02-07T20:52:00.000-06:00

New Orleans Saints 31, Indianapolis Colts 17.

From NOLA.com:

Signs #25,034 & #25,035 of the impending apocalypse

2010-02-06T21:16:00.001-06:00

25,034: Fox News takes something said by the president and uses it in a neutral context (in blue).

25,035: Fox News says something negative about the tea party people (in pink).

1400 miles...

2010-02-05T23:01:00.002-06:00

...in one week.

Really? Motherfuck! I like my job, but I don't want to kill my car.

Hmmm...

This isn't meant to last...

2010-02-04T22:40:00.000-06:00

I've worked 42 hours this week, racked up over 1000 miles, made 53 deliveries and been everywhere in the St. Louis area...even took a drive up to Springfield, IL Tuesday night. And I still work tomorrow.

Based on what I know about the way the company pays contractors, I'm doing well so far. But I cannot keep this pace up...I HAVE to eat better food and not work so much. Money is important, but I can't make money if I'm dead or sick.

I'll be so glad to get a paycheck next week though...my first one in 2 months...I fucking earned it!

Bookended by sorrow

2010-02-03T20:12:00.000-06:00

I was a road warrior yesterday...covered 436 miles in 14 hours, including a round trip to Springfield, Illinois (100 miles NE of St. Louis). It was a good day, but it started and ended sadly.

I was at a Walgreens early in the morning, picking up some stuff while waiting for a run. The cashier (an older woman) noticed my visitors badge from a local hospital (my first run started there), and mentioned that her daughter was at that hospital. She then proceeded to tell me that her daughter's heart attack eventually led to the amputation of her extremities. Fuck...

So my last delivery was in Springfield, Illinois. I had already volunteered to stay a few extra hours, but was then offered the run to Springfield...I like road trips, so I jumped on it. I had to deliver some home care supplies to a customer that needed them right away. We guaranteed the delivery to be there by 10, but I got it there at 9:30...because I'm a fucking pimp.

Anyway...the gentleman I delivered to lived in what seemed to be a rough part of town. There appeared to be 6-8 people living in this small house. The house was a mess...the living room had a TV on a stand and a mattress. There was a blanket covering one of the windows. The place looked like hell...and this poor guy appeared to be a double leg amputee...fuck...

I hate to hear and see such sadness...I hope my kindness (or the supplies I brought to the one guy) made their days a little brighter.

Praying for Time

2010-02-02T23:52:00.000-06:00

These are the days of the open hand
They will not be the last
Look around now
These are the days of the beggars and the choosers

This is the year of the hungry man
Whose place is in the past
Hand in hand with ignorance
And legitimate excuses

The rich declare themselves poor
And most of us are not sure
If we have too much
But we'll take our chances
'Cause God's stopped keeping score
I guess somewhere along the way
He must have let us all out to play
Turned His back and all God's children
Crept out the back door

And it's hard to love, there's so much to hate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above say it's much, much too late
Well maybe we should all be praying for time

These are the days of the empty hand
Oh you hold on to what you can
And charity is a coat you wear twice a year

This is the year of the guilty man
Your television takes a stand
And you find that what was over there is over here

So you scream from behind your door
Say what's mine is mine and not yours
I may have too much but I'll take my chances
'Cause God's stopped keeping score
And you cling to the things they sold you
Did you cover your eyes when they told you
That He can't come back
'Cause He has no children to come back for

It's hard to love there's so much to hate
Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above say it's much too late
So maybe we should all be praying for time

written by George Michael

Turning a corner

2010-02-01T00:01:00.035-06:00

I wasn't planning on taking most of January off from blogging, but...well, fucking shoot me. I'm here now, and that's what's important here!

Today begins the 2nd week of my new job...I contract with a local courier company. It's a good job...I drive a lot, but I am essentially my own boss. I don't plan on doing this for too long, but it's steady, and I am grateful to be employed again. I haven't gotten that awesome job I want yet, but I've had some good interviews recently, and I figure it's only a matter of time.

I'm down 8 pounds in 2 weeks...actually stayed the same this week as last week, but I ate out a lot and was stressing. Overall, I feel like I'm finally in a good groove with my eating...I try to eat well, but when I can't, I eat as best as I can and not too much.

April made the Dean's List last semester, and is into her actual cooking classes. She loves it, and I get to taste her hard work. Her jobs are going well, and I see big things happening for her by the end of the year.

Sycamore's debut CD is now available through most online music retailers, including iTunes. A 17-year dream has come to fruition, and I am proud of the work. I'm already planning the project's next steps, and started jamming with friends from high school this weekend...that was a lot of fun.

I am hopeful that April and I are finally on solid footing...I'm tired of hanging in the balance...that shit's getting old. But anyway...there you have it and there you are. I'm alive and well.

Oh, and my heart is doing well...functioning normally for over a year now. w00t!

MLK

2010-01-18T09:00:00.000-06:00

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would beguaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on th is promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God's children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith with which I return to the South. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

--Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., August 28, 1963, Washington, DC

So now we know. Let's move on.

2010-01-11T20:30:00.000-06:00

Mark McGwire finally came clean on the steroids deal today. I've said in the past that he just needed to come clean and all would be forgiven. And I'm thinking that's mainly what's gonna happen here.

We already knew he was using them, because a reporter saw him with andro in '97. And they were legal when he was taking them. I think the big issue in all this was that he wouldn't come clean. A-Rod, Andy Pettite...no one gives a shit that they did 'em...because they came clean. No one gives a shit that Pete Rose bet on baseball games anymore...because he was finally honest.

If not for the home runs, McGwire would not even be Hall of Fame-worthy...1626 hits, a .263 BA...you've got players with 2500 hits that aren't in the Hall yet. But those HRs are his ticket in. He hit them, he hit them based on the rules at the time and he's admitted that he did stupid shit.

We knew he'd have to talk sooner or later, as Spring Training starts next month. I think he picked the right time to do it, and now it's done. We'll hear about it for a while during the season, but it's essentially a dead issue now...at least, IMO.

Now then, let's get El Hombre signed to a big freaking contract and we're set for a while.

Sycamore debut CD

2010-01-09T01:26:00.000-06:00

Hi all,

A few months ago, I told you all about an electronic music project I was working on called Gujunega. After further consideration, I decided to use the Sycamore name. It didn't feel right to use it at first, but since Sycamore is really about making whatever music I want, it makes perfect sense.

So anyway, my debut EP is finished and about to be released...February 10th is the official release date at online shops. As far as physical copies...for now, I will be ordering them on a limited basis to minimize costs.

You can listen to the 8 songs that make up Sycamore and become a fan at either Facebook or MySpace. If you want a physical copy, send me a private message. The cost is $7, and if you pre-order a physical copy, you get an electronic copy now...yay for you!

Recently, I've been thinking that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to make the first Sycamore CD a collection of electronic songs. But that just sets the tone for what I want this project to be...whatever I want. I made music that I wanted to make at the time, and now I can say that I have released a music CD...that's been a dream of mine for the past 17 years. Bottom line here, if you don't like what you're hearing now, stick around...you might like something I--and some awesome collaborators--make later!

Here's what I see in the near future...a CD release party for the debut, a collection of peppy rock songs and a collection of experimental work. All this year? Maybe...we'll see. Don't want to talk about playing live yet...I'm simply not in the right health to do that yet...soon though.

So anyway...hope you like what you hear and hope you'll become a fan!

Thanks.

A crazy morning in North City

2010-01-07T14:06:00.000-06:00

From MSNBC: A disgruntled employee armed with an assault rifle and a handgun walked into a St. Louis manufacturing plant and opened fire Thursday, killing two people and wounding at least five others before apparently taking his own life, police and media reports said.

The shooting at ABB Power occurred around 6:30 a.m. during a shift change, and 40 to 50 people were likely in the plant at the time, police Capt. Sam Dotson said. As shots began to ring out, employees scurried to find safety, authorities said.

Interestingly, I was offered a two-day assignment to work earlier this week in the business park where ABB is located...couldn't take it due to a time conflict.

I love Crystal hot sauce, but...

2010-01-06T23:49:00.000-06:00

...doesn't it look way too bright?

The fit-throwing hell ride is over

2010-01-05T23:46:00.000-06:00

I am not ashamed to admit that I have a mental illness. I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder in 2005, and have been taking Lexapro since then. Lexapro has been a godsend...I have never felt so mentally good before, and it doesn't cause any side effects.

I get my Lexapro through the maker's assistance program. Every 3 months, my doc and I fill out a refill form, and my supply usually arrives at the clinic in 2-3 weeks. Even though it's shipped from here in town, I always fill the form out 3-4 weeks ahead of time, to make sure I don't run out.

It's been 5 weeks now, and no sign of the refill. I'm waiting to hear back from the clinic nurse...she's checking on the status of the shipment. It was supposed to arrive last week. My supply ran out on Christmas Day, and the clinic usually doesn't carry samples, and the clinic's pharmacy doesn't carry Lexapro...you see where this is going, right?

Last week was...wow...it sucked. I was an emotional and physical wreck...paranoid and anxious as hell, every part of my body hurt...the worst week I have ever had.

Fortunately, I had a doctor's appointment yesterday and they also had samples of Lexapro...whoohoo! I'm starting to feel better, though still out of sorts. Hopefully I'll be back to normal by the end of the week.

Now if we can figure out what the hell happened to my order...I should have just driven out to Earth City to get it.

Serenity is coming

2010-01-04T20:52:00.002-06:00

Am starting to return to a more familiar place. Full story tomorrow...promise.

(filler)

2010-01-03T16:33:00.000-06:00

I'm making a post because I am hell-bent on making this blog a daily event again. However, I am unable to make a full posting at this time...full story tomorrow, hopefully.