Just Another Day at the Mall

OK, ordinarily I would not be caught dead at the mall on a Sunday afternoon two weeks before Christmas. But I got an email this week that had me intrigued. It said that at 3:00 today at Buckland Hills in Manchester, CT, there would be a Flash Mob for Handel's Hallelujah Chorus.

I'm a big fan of The Chorus so I decided to brave wind and rain and pestilence to see if anything would really happen.

I arrived around 2:40, got a decent enough parking spot (a sign from God?) and cruised inside. Once at the center atrium I saw that there seemed to be more than the usual number of people milling around -- and the crowd steadily grew.

At 3:02, a man with a coronet stepped up to the second floor railing and played that unmistakable fanfare. Lo and behold, hundreds of people suddenly burst into song.

It was awesome!

If you watch closely, you may catch sight of me around :49.

Uncle Gene, You Are a Beacon

September 1, 2010 was the last day in the life of one of the dearest uncles one could hope to have. 80+ years of a a wonderful life, but he will be dearly missed all the same.

Good night and God's speed Uncle Gene. We love you.

They Must Be Native

My niece and nephew have spent most of their young lives in the Arizona desert. So it is their sage opinion that "if it doesn't poke you, sting you, prick you or bite you -- it's not native to Arizona."

Well I found out the hard way that the Western Grapeleaf Skeletonizer (Once again, I'm not making this up!) is a native. I found out while I was trimming dead stuff off my brother's grape arbour.

The Ag folks at Colorado State say the critters are showing up there now, so they've put together a good primer on the WGS. Whe CSU also says, but I learned first hand is:

Many people are sensitive to contact with WGS larvae. The long, dark hairs on the bodies are poisonous when broken. Skin welts similar to thouse produced by stinging nettles appear on sensitive individuals after contact the late instar larvae.

Boy howdy have they got that right! I won't show you what the back of my hand looks like, but trust me -- it ain't pretty!

Fun With Search

I tend to write this blog for myself more than anyone, knowing full well people seldom read it. So it was a pleasant surprise when I received some encouraging compliments on an older post. The boss of my would-be Andy Warhol must have been googling her restaurant and stumbled onto her link in my blog. She then told "Andy" about my post and he commented, too.

I apparently made their day, much as they made mine. Andy, aka, Kyle, kindly gave me a link to a photo gallery of his other work. Multi-media is Kyle's message and he works it with passion. I wish him every success.

Justice? I Think Not

Two and a half years after the murder of 24 year old Jonathan Arroyo in front of his Hartford home, his killer was sentenced to 14 years in prison. Fourteen years. Not much to pay for the productive life lost and the lifetime of misery Jon's wife, sons, daughter, mother, brother, sister and friends will suffer without him.

I feel a portion of guilt at this outcome. The state entered a plea bargain with the drug dealing killer because his first trial ended in a hung jury. I was the foreperson on that jury and it will always pain me that I could not find a way to convince the two hold-out jurors that the defendant was indeed the killer.

Before accepting the plea the judge (who also presided at trial) said, "What we do here today is not justice." The pain in his voice was evident; the pain the sentence caused the family even more so.

Jon Arroyo was one of the truly good guys. A devoted young family man, Jon was honorably discharged from the Army, studied criminology in college and worked in the Department of Corrections preparing to become a state trooper. His fatal mistake was showing his legally registered pistol at 4 a.m. that cold November night in 2007. He wanted to scare off the thugs who insisted on trying to sell him drugs. He told his killer he didn't want any drugs, that they were right outside his house and he was only going home. The dealer wouldn't take no for an answer, but when Jon showed his gun, the killer whipped out his and dropped Jon where he stood. Such a senseless, useless death.

A societal shadow further darkens this sad story. Had this fine young family man been from West Hartford or Avon, the court would have been packed with supporters. Cries for justice would have been front page news. But Jon grew up poor in Hartford's north end. For most people, he is just another statistic in a place where violence, drug dealing and murder are commonplace.

Jon Arroyo deserves better.

The Image of Adorable

While sitting on my brother's patio, finishing a feeble attempt at a watercolor of the Catalina Mountains at sunset, I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. When I looked down, I saw the cutest, itty-bitty rodent. It's big black eyes seemed to be studying me almost familially.

Google freak that I am, I had to find out what the little guy was. First of all, it looked like this and was only the size of a small plum. But you'll never believe what it's called ...

A Bailey's Pocket Mouse. Seriously! I couldn't make this stuff up. Now I'm worried about my pocket pal; I sure hope he doesn't run into the king snake that prowls the yard.

Rude Awakening

Ratta, tat, tat. Ratta, tat, tat. Ratta, tat, TAT!

Seriously? A woodpecker hammering on the roof at 6:30 in the morning? On a rainy saturday? When the only sensible thing to do is sleep in?

Not funny, God!

Trout Lily

I have seen scores of Springs, yet every one that comes around never fails to delight and amaze. I love that about Spring.

Today afforded one of those very special Spring moments. I was walking the dog in a field when I very nearly stepped on something I'd never seen before -- a Trout Lily. It hugs the ground, standing only about 3 inches high with a flower only an inch or so across. Delicate yellow, perfectly formed nested in speckled leaves that put one in mind of trout. The flowers stand, each in isolation, one flower per plant, almost defying the world to ignore them.

Today, I could not.

Who Says Painting is Easy?

Ok, Sometimes I say painting is easy. Or if not easy, at least fun and satisfying. Like this little season-based quadratych (I made that up) that I worked on here and there to help pass the late winter days.

And even the get-out-of-the-ol'-comfort-zone abstract can be rewarding.

Sadly... these "hits" tend to be the exception. There have been many "misses" that were just agony ending in disaster.

Take today's exercise in futility -- the Tobacco Barns. YUK! Trust me, this is NOT what this bad boy looked like in my mind's eye.

Well, I suppose I can always painted it out and start something new. Guess that's what they mean by "Back to the drawing board!"

And the Search Goes On

Just an update on the job search...

After my last job-related post my leads ran cold. The job with the long commute turned me down 5 months after I first applied. I was only a little disappointed because that hour and 15 drive each way was not a draw.

Last week I interviewed to possibly cover someone's maternity leave this summer. The next day I had another interview at the same company to temp-to-hire for a strategic communications job. That could work. And it's close enough for a "normal" commute.

Still, now 8 months into being unemployed, I've learned to temper my optimism. This recession has made employers both cautious and in the position to be very, very choosy. Nothing is a done deal, but I'll keep pluggin'.

Discovering "Andy Warhol"

Have you ever been out and found yourself suddenly and unexpectedly confronted by ART? I mean the kind of art that grabs you by the shoulders with both hands and says LOOK AT ME! It happened to me yesterday in a little breakfast joint called The Cosmic Omelet.

The Cosmic sometimes features pieces for sale by local artists and photographers. Yesterday there was a collage portrait of an American icon -- Hunter S. Thompson.

A few things made it both compelling and startling. First, it was good. Second was the medium; it was done in paint on presumably losing Lottery scratch tickets (Thompson would have loved that).

Then I saw that it had been painted on foam board insullation!

That screamed starving artist, I must create so I'll use whatever there is at hand. It was kitchy, it was cool and I knew in an instant I wanted to buy it.

When I asked the waitress who painted it, she tossed a thumb toward one of the short order cooks. "Kyle," she said. There was a young guy in a blue bandana hustling to get out the next omelet order.

He beamed when I handed him the small stack of 20s. Evidently he had just hung it that morning. The varnish was still tacky.

Is Kyle an Andy Warhol waiting to be discovered? I certainly hope so. If you're interested, he has more pieces for sale. Right now there's a Betty Boop done on a field of Domino sugar packets. Get it while it's hot!

Beginning of the End ... of the Great Recession

OK. Here I am, past the 6 month point in my latest unemployment. This week I have the not-so-rare priviledge of filing for a federal extension to my unemployment because my core benefits have run out. Still, I am growing increasingly optimistic.

1. I'm in my third round of interviews with a company I like for a job that interests me with a group who seem pretty nice. I learned about it because I had applied for a different job there and the H.R. person remembered me when this job opened. Drawback -- the commute would be more than an hour each way. Much longer than I'd like.
2. Tomorrow I have my first interview with a former employer for a job that also interests me. Tip of the iceberg in a world where corporate interviews can take months to complete, but it's a start. The job is much closer to home than the first and I would get credit for my prior years of service there. I learned about this job from former colleagues who also helped by getting my resume into the right hands quickly. It really does pay to network, and to NOT burn bridges.
3. Then there is a job I heard about this weekend. Someone in my network at another former employer knew of a job that is about to be posted and immediately thought of me. She's asked for my latest resume because she's meeting with the posting manager Tuesday and wants to put me at the top of the list.

Soooo, am I out of the woods yet? No. But the trees do seem to be thinning and a little light is filtering in. And I continue to be grateful for all the help I am getting from friends, colleagues and acquaintances. Hey look -- I see a clearing...