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7.31.02
Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. And it’s up to you to decide what to do: stay in the batter’s box and pray it doesn’t bean
you; or jump out of the way and hope it’s outside the strike zone. In what was turning out to be a pretty damn sweet 2002, I’ve had
the first real pummeling hit me today – the GIS job here at work that I was hoping to get isn’t going to be approved for 2002’s
budget. There’s an excellent chance it will be approved for 2003’s budget, but that doesn’t really help me out much here and now.
However, I don’t think I’m going to go anywhere just yet. It’s not that I particularly enjoy my current job, but it is A job and I
feel like all this pain and suffering has to pay off one day – maybe as early as 2003. And that’s the big thing, 2003 is only five
more months of hell away. I’ve been doing this shit job for over 18 months now, so what’s another 5? (Although I’m still not
guaranteed the job even then) Besides, by then I’ll have this AutoCAD class out of the way – one of the big things that has been
missing from my resume – and I’ll be in a better position to start seriously looking to break into the GIS field. I guess to answer
my own dilemma at the start – I’m going to stay in the batter’s box and hope I don’t get beaned. The thought makes me about as
depressed as I can get nowadays, but sadly I don’t feel like I really have any other options at this point.
Ya know what I love? When people bitch about police brutality and then, a week later, beat two men to death after they were involved
in a car accident. I’m sure you’ve heard about this case up in Chicago; if not, I’ll fill you in on the basics.
A man was moving to a different house or apartment and had a friend along to help him. They were in a rented moving van, driving down
the street, when something happened and the driver lost control, slamming into the sidewalk and jumping the curb, hitting three women
who were standing there talking. The women were seriously injured – one is currently in critical condition while the other two are
now in fair condition – which is a bad situation, I’ll grant you that. However, I also want to reiterate – they were seriously
injured, not killed. Some people who saw the accident rushed down to the van and pulled the two men out and started beating on them,
some using bricks from the small wall the van hit as it jumped the curb. Needless to say, when the cops arrived, they had three
injured women and two dead men on their hands.
I love hypocrisy, don’t you? How come no one had a video camera this time?
Not to freak out my Dad or anything, but I’ve been thinking a lot about death this week. I followed the story of the miners in
Pennsylvania rather closely, just as I was constantly checking CNN.com while those Russian submariners were down in the depths over a
year ago. I just keep asking myself, “What must that feel like?” You have to keep up hope of a rescue, but when does it get to the
point where you just say to yourself, “We’re done for”? And what is that like to have to give up hope? I saw an interview with the
men and they said at one point they had all written letters to their families on pieces of cardboard, placed them in a bucket and
taped it shut so water wouldn’t get in – they had given up hope to an extent. The idea was: the bucket would float when the water
came crashing through and at least their last words would survive, even if they didn’t. Try to imagine what you’d put in the last
letter to your family. I honestly can’t even fathom what that must be like. I suppose it would be similar to writing a suicide note,
but generally those are more self-centered. Here, you have to express your absolute deepest feelings, ideas and emotions that must
last someone their entire life, in just a few inches of corrugated cardboard. Unimaginable.
I pray I’m never faced with that sort of situation because it seems being buried alive would be pretty horrible, much worse than being
burned alive or torn apart by rabid dogs (one of my Top 5 horrific ways to die, by the way). When you’re trapped, all you can do is
sit there and wait for your oxygen to run out, sit there and wait to die. That just seems like such a horrible way to go, the
realization of it all. Granted, you probably pass out from not having any oxygen well before you die, but it’s those hours or days
beforehand that would be so bad.
It’s something I should really explore in a story at some point; hopefully it will only be fiction and never fact for me. I guess
Edgar Allan Poe had a similar fascination, although I might say his was more of a fear, of premature burial. Wonder what that says
about me? Hopefully I don’t become a raging alcoholic.
Sorry, got off track there. I would just like to say that I’m very happy the men are safe and sound and back with their families.
The bucket, by the way, will never be opened according to the men, not until they’re all dead and buried. Now that is a cool idea.
On to a cheerier topic, things are slowly developing with my STL Film Club. I’ve gotten permission from a local theater manager to
place promotional flyers in his lobby and will hopefully be doing that this weekend or, more likely, Tuesday when we get together for
our once-a-month film discussion group that is sponsored by the same theater. I’ve also put in an order for four t-shirts to be given
away at some of the midnight screenings I’ll be attending over the next month or so, which will hopefully get the logo and website
address in front of people who would actually want to be a part of this little venture. We’ll see how things develop over the next
few weeks.
Parents are coming into town this weekend. They’re down here for a wedding reception, I believe, and they’ll be stopping through
O’Fallon on Sunday. I have no idea what we’re going to do, but I’m sure a house tour and a meal at a restaurant will be in order at
some point. Other than that, sadly, there isn’t much else to do in town. I dunno. We’ll see what happens. Either way it’ll be good
to see them again.
I think that’s about all that’s running through my head this week. Check out The Boundry tomorrow for an odd sort of Twilight Zone
episode I wrote last week. Not sure I’m thrilled with it, but it has its moments. Anyway, have a good one and I’ll see you next week
at the same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.
Space Monkey X
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