…wishes you a happy Halloween!
A candidate for father of the year…
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Category Archives: Asst. Misc.
A working class hero is something to be
From the gallery of Trevor King.
Amongst my admittedly small social circle are several folks whose career path has led them to join the ranks of academia as university professors. I’m sorry to admit I know little of their individual journeys and the challenges they faced and overcame along the way. So I really appreciated this post written by Dr. Colby King, recently ensconced at Bridgewater State University in Massachusetts. I’ve always had a great deal of respect for Colby, especially because he is one of my few left-of-center friends who is willing to actually engage in a serious discussion of some of the issues facing our nation. We rarely reach agreement but we do find on occasion some common ground or at least mutual understanding of our respective viewpoints. Most importantly, I always learn something new and for that he earns my gratitude. My respect and understanding were greatly enhanced after learning more about his personal story. I encourage you to give it a read.
Being the selfish bastard that I am, Colby’s story set me to thinking of my own. I grew up in an upper middle class area of Orange County, California. But our family was definitely working class. My father was managing a fast food restaurant when I was born. After a McDonald’s opened across the street from his store, “The Rite Spot”, there was a futile burger war (it’s hard to undercut a 15 cent hamburger) and my father moved on to driving a truck in route sales. My mother supplemented the family income first as a carhop and later working the night shift in a factory.
We always had food on the table (lots of fried chicken and ground beef). We had a roof over our heads (a rented roof of a 1940s era house surrounded by fancy new subdivisions). And we had clothes on our backs (in my case usually hand-me-downs). So we weren’t “poor” in the classic sense of the word, but comparatively speaking we were amongst the poorest people in our community.
Kids can be cruel, and they were at times. I recall classmates mocking “the shack” in which we lived. And since my clothes were functional but not fashionable (and cleaned at the local laundromat) I took some heat for that too. One painful memory from sixth grade was the day I wore some shoes my uncle brought home from the store where he worked. They were a little too large for me, but they were new. And I guess maybe they didn’t really go that well with the blue jeans I invariably wore to school. Anyway, we were lining up for class and all the other kids pointed at my shoes and started laughing uproariously. The teacher came out to see what all the commotion was, took a look at my shoes, and laughed too. Needless to say, that was the first and last time I wore those shoes. They looked something like this:
A painful memory. Looking back on it now, maybe I would have laughed too.
Then there was the 7th grade math teacher (Mr. Peter Boothroyd the bastard) who found it appropriate to discipline misbehavior in his class by announcing “keep it up McCrarey and you’ll wind up like your father–selling Jello out of a truck.” Suffice to say, by the time I finished high school I had developed a pretty healthy inferiority complex. Which I self-medicated with copious amounts of pot smoking.
I floundered around some after graduation, taking a few classes at the community college but mostly just getting high and doing whatever minimum wage gigs I could find. My daughter was born one week after I turned 20 and that kicked in a new found sense of responsibility. So, I found a job in route sales (fuck you Boothroyd!) and actually did pretty well at it. I took the Postal Service entrance exam and after a couple of years was hired as a letter carrier. I was finally on my way!
I subsequently added a son to my family, transferred to Prescott, Arizona, and bought my first house. I was living the American dream and was content to spend the rest of my life carrying mail and enjoying what for me was the best life I had known. Then the marriage fell apart and I wound up with custody of both kids. I started dating a grad student (I wrote about her in some detail here) and hanging out with her college professor friends at Northern Arizona University. And probably for the first time in my life I started to realize that these people I admired were not better, or necessarily smarter, than me–just more educated. So, it was back to the local community college for me!
The grad student relationship ended badly and left me pretty much emotionally devastated. Being a single father was more than I could handle, so I transferred to Oklahoma (technically Fort Smith, Arkansas) so my mom could lend me a hand with the kids. I was still delivering mail, but now I was doing it in stifling summer humidity and winter ice. Made the job a lot less appealing! Worst of all it was not mentally engaging. As I carried my mail route I’d imagine doing things that I’d actually like to be doing. And suddenly, I’d have completed my rounds and not recalled actually having done so. I was just in automatic mode, mental masturbation if you will. So, I realized that I needed to make a change in my life, but had no idea what exactly to do.
One perk of being a mailman (especially a single mailman) is that you tend to meet a lot of women along the route. One of these was Iris Breed, the Director of the Fort Smith Girls Club. One of the smartest people I’ve had the good fortune to meet on this road we call life. We began dating and I shared with her my general dissatisfaction with the malaise of my career. She said why don’t you take a management job? Well. I mean, who’d want a guy like me on the management team? Besides, I was the union steward. Working in management was against everything I stood for! But she continued to encourage me and pointed out that the only thing I truly lacked in life was the confidence to pursue my goals. So, when a job came open to manage the safety program I applied. I knew nothing about safety management, but at least I felt like I could continue to support the rank and file from inside the beast.
Bobbie McLane was the Human Resources director and I had met her often when I dealt with her on union issues. I guess she liked how I handled myself in those meetings because she took a leap and actually hired me. And sent to the USPS Management Academy in Potomac, MD for several weeks so I could actually learn how to do the job. I’m forever grateful to her for giving me that chance to be more than what I had been. But the rest was up to me.
And I did alright I guess. I was promoted to a labor relations position in Columbia, SC. I went back to school (at an actual university–Go ‘Cocks!) and finally earned my bachelor’s degree in 1991 (at the tender age of 35). After that, more promotions found me in D.C. where I took advantage of a management development program and graduate degree studies. Thirty-four years after first putting on that letter carrier uniform I retired as GS-15 Director of Human Resources for the United States Forces Korea.
What a ride it was! I had some luck along the way. And help and encouragement from people that saw in me things I didn’t see in myself. But ultimately, it was up to me to overcome my self-imposed limitations and find a way to achieve my potential. Being from a working class background made that more of a challenge I suppose, but I’d argue that it wasn’t really society that put me in the box. It just took some time to understand that no one can define who you are or what you can be, unless you give them that power. Which sounds pretty simple when I write it now. But learning that proved to be my life’s greatest achievement.
Walk this way
Doing the treadmill can get a little boring. But through the power of imagination aided by the wonder of the internet, I can almost see myself hiking here. While shitting my pants.
I like the pictures at the link, but here’s a little video as well.
Hey, are you talking about me?
Of course, I combine bad writing with poor grammar, and I’m sure that makes at least one person I know suffer…
Coming out
I guess I can relate to this couple somewhat. After all, I’m pretty sure I’m a lesbian trapped in a man’s body…
Screw jihad!
Where have all the comfort girls gone? Long time passing Where have the comfort girls gone? Long time ago Where have all the comfort girls gone? Gone to Syria everyone When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?
I suppose it’s an inapt comparison to the Korean comfort women of WWII since there is no indication these Tunisian lasses are being forced to fuck the Syrian terrorists rebels freedom fighters. The folks back home are none to pleased that their women folk are returning preggers. But as they say, terrorist babies don’t grow on trees.
What I find interesting is that apparently in Islam everything goes–murder, torture, sexual intercourse–provided you announce that you are doing it for the purpose of jihad. Hey, it worked for the Prophet!
http://youtu.be/IvC9sbK725M
Scalping testicles
In the news:
This guy apparently didn’t have the balls to just “speak now or forever hold your peace”.
And no one better tell them redskins Indians Native Americans that they should be offended.
Remembering when everything changed
Forgetfulness occurs when those who have been long inured to civilized order can no longer remember a time in which they had to wonder whether their crops would grow to maturity without being stolen or their children sold into slavery by a victorious foe.
…
They forget that in time of danger, in the face of the Enemy, they must trust and confide in each other, or perish.They forget, in short, that there has ever been a category of human experience called the Enemy. And that, before 9/11, was what had happened to us. The very concept of the Enemy had been banished from our moral and political vocabulary. An enemy was just a friend we hadn’t done enough for — yet. Or perhaps there had been a misunderstanding, or an oversight on our part — something that we could correct. And this means that that our first task is that we must try to grasp what the concept of the Enemy really means.
The Enemy is someone who is willing to die in order to kill you. And while it is true that the Enemy always hates us for a reason — it is his reason, and not ours.
–Lee Harris
Standings
This is a test to see if I’ve managed to figure out how to post documents from Word and Excel on a WordPress blog.
Hmm, I was hoping to actually display those pages as opposed to creating hyperlinks. Now, the only way I’ve been able view them is to right click and open them in a new window. At least it works that way on my computer, but then, I have the documents saved to my hard drive.
Will some lucky reader try the links above and advise if they can access the documents? Thanks in advance.
UPDATE: Interesting. Once I actually published the post, those hyperlinks turned into sweet little document-like looking things. Again, they work when I click them, do they work for you?
I’ve installed another WordPress plugin, let’s see how (if) it works.
I’m number 12,296,726!
Yesterday I was waiting in the car while Jee Yeun had her physical therapy session. I was fooling around with the smartphone and when I tried to do a Google search for LTG, this website popped up.
Imagine my surprise and delight at discovering that out of 30 million domains, mccrarey.com is sitting pretty at 12,296,726! That’s practically the big time. Even better, according to webstatsdomain.net LTG is worth an astonishing $1364.00! Not bad for just under nine years of work.
I should have left well enough alone I suppose. Instead I went and checked out johnmccrarey.com. That was my original domain, but through some miscommunication with my host the registration expired and some spammer puke in Poland purchased my name. My former domain, which only publishes spam (currently an ad for payday loans) is ranked 2,630,595 and is valued at $2820.00.
It’s all good, a deflated ego never killed anyone.
We’re number 2!
Via Drudge comes this story about Mexico displacing the United States as the world’s most obese nation. Damn. I reckon if the immigration bill passes we can reclaim our fat crown.
Sorry if I’ve let my country down. This week I broke the 240 barrier, weighing in at 239.5. That’s a sweet 39 pounds lost since February.
Onward and downward!
To what do you attribute your long life?
She’s certainly nothing like the centenarian I encountered recently.
http://youtu.be/YdxD1uhmvxQ
Via Althouse
Korea Life
This is a video I made documenting my last stay in the Land of the Morning Calm, October 2012-February 2013. I’m anxious to get back!
It was the best of times (mostly)
I’m trying to figure out how to operate my new fangled blog. Like putting up YouTube videos that show up as a video rather than a link. Did it work?
I was at least able to create a blog roll, something that had stopped working here years ago.
Update: Nope, no dice on the video. Hmmm.
Let’s try it this way:
Success!?
Welcome to the New and Improved* Long Time Gone
*format, font, and user interface have been upgraded. Actual content will remain weak and generally uninspired.
Bigger! Better! Badder! And once again featuring photos and videos (applications that over time had deteriorated and finally stopped working).
I believe the upgrades are almost complete. Still a couple of tweaks I want to incorporate, but I’m generally happy with the new appearance. I like that the blog is actually bigger and that the font size makes for easier reading. Also, I no longer have to manually resize photos prior to uploading. Photographs now post as thumbnails which can be expanded to full size with a simple mouse click. I also like the captioning feature.
So, easier for me to post, easier for you to read and respond.
Let me add my thanks to Alex at WordPress Customization Service for his most excellent assistance.
Welcome to my new home!
A shout out
As mentioned in the previous post, I’ve been despairing about the fate of my blogging history. In an act of desperation I contacted the former owner of my current blog host, Lisa Sabin-Wilson and asked if she could assist. This morning I received an email from someone at Blogs-About, I told him what I needed (the Cpanel login and password) and within the hour I had the info I’ve been seeking for weeks.
Anyway, I really appreciate that Ms. Sabin-Wilson took some time to help me out with this. What a relief.
Of course, I won’t rest easy until everything has transferred over to my new host (HostGator, who have also been great) and the WordPress update has been completed.
I can’t promise bigger and better blogging than ever before, but at least I’ll be able to post photos again. So there’s that.
I’ve got a bad feeling
The effort to update my blog has failed. It seems I need a Cpanel access login to move data from the servers of my current blog host, Blogs-About. Blogs-About has been totally unresponsive to my repeated requests for assistance. I gave their website some close scrutiny today and discovered nothing has been updated there since 2010.
I did an internet search of Blogs-About’s founder and noted that she is with a new company. I emailed her and asked what the heck was going on with Blogs-About. Hopefully she’ll respond.
In the meantime, I am faced with the prospect of losing everything I have written these past 9 years. Which means nothing to anyone but me I suppose. It makes me sick to my stomach though.
We’ll see what happens.
Battlin’ Buddhist Bastards of Burma
“You can be full of kindness and love, but you cannot sleep next to a mad dog.”
The New York Times is shocked, shocked I tell ya, that every single Buddhist in the world is not temperamentally exactly like the Dalai Lama. They must have missed stories like this.
I obviously do not approve of these tactics, no matter who the perpetrator. Still, it is quite fascinating to see radicalized Buddhists utilize the same methods that radicalized Muslims have been employing against Christians and Jews for centuries. Dare I say it? This Crusade is quite the Revelation. Ahem.
Farewell Blogs About
You’ve been with me from the beginning of Long Time Gone. But when I reached out to you in my hour of need, you turned your back and ignored my repeated pleas for assistance. I suppose it’s the age old story of one outgrowing the other in a relationship. I may be just another small fry to you, but damn I was loyal.
So, it is with some sadness and regret I say goodbye to you forever. There’s a new blog host in my life now, Host Gator, who’s catchy little motto is “we eat up the competition.” Blogs About, consider yourself devoured.
Not sure how long the transition will take, but have no fear, should LTG disappear for a couple of days, I will be back bigger and better than ever before. Kinda like a bad dream.
Reflections on a rainy day in South Carolina
To blog or not to blog…
…is that the question?
It was the best of posts, it was the worst of posts. Bloggers of the world unite!
No, I have no idea where I’m going with this blog post. Apparently the latest grammatical faux pas is to call something you write on your blog a blog. As opposed to a post on your blog. Me, I’ve never been a slave to grammatical correctness but this whole kerfuffle strikes me as much adieu ado* about nothing. A tempest in a teapot. And don’t even get me started on the overuse of cliches. Personally, I avoid trite phrases like the plague, but that’s just me.
But seriously, I don’t see why this whole “blog versus post” issue matters enough for someone to actually to actually blog about it. Or to warrant writing a post on your own blog in response. I have a blog and sometimes I even write some worthless crap and post it here. My mother used to say “oh, I loved that blog you wrote today.” I’d dearly love to hear those words again.
Anyway, when I see something that strikes my fancy I’m liable to blog about it with a post like this. Can’t we all just get along?
*Thanks to Kevin Kim for noticing my brain fart. Sometimes I’m too smart by half. I knew what I was trying to say, why I wrote it the way I did is a mystery. Kevin generously would have let me play it off as an intentional gaffe, but when your wrong your wrong. And yes, you’re right, that last one was intentional. I guess it might be wise for me to keep y’all guessing whether I’m really that ignorant or just bad at being funny…