A Few Memories

At Dorine's parents' house, Spring 1986

This photo, probably taken sometime in April 1986, brings back a few memories.  The baby in the picture is Devery, and I had broken the fourth metacarpal bone in my left hand while diving for a pop fly in a spring-league softball game.  Since I'm left-handed, I had to write all my final exams the following month with that cast on my hand; needless to say, it wasn't easy!  Dorine and I had been married for about 16 months at that time, and we used to go have Sunday dinner with her parents, Lynn and Rhea Wilson, at their house on Riviera Rd. NE, where this was taken.  After Rhea died of cancer in the spring of 1990, and ever since Lynn's remarriage a year or two later -- to one of his sons' mother-in-law, no less -- we have only rarely visited the house.  (Lynn has gone with us to a lot of Dorine's softball games in the last few years, so we still see him quite often.)  As Dorine says, it just isn't her mother's home anymore.  It seems strange that Rhea has been gone now for more than 22 years, and that my father has been gone for more than 15 years.  Time flies, whether you're having fun or not!

Seeing this photo also reminds me what Dorine looked like before she got braces on her teeth around 1998 (having teeth extracted at the same time).  Orthodontia changed the shape of her mouth quite markedly -- overall, I'd say for the better, although I thought she was beautiful either way.  (The braces were her idea, not mine.)

The End of Summer

Dorine and I in the Sandia foothills

1. We've been working on our back yard, or at least part of it, to plant new grass.  The job has entailed tearing up a lot of roots from the shade tree in back of the house, which roots had, over time, risen up to the surface.  Then, when we roto-tilled the ground on Friday, we tore up a bunch more roots that were just below the surface, leaving me wondering seriously if the tree will survive.  I hope it doesn't fall over on the house!

2. I wrote a blog post a couple of years ago about our pets -- Baloo the cat, Gekker the leopard gecko, and Mischa the miniature pinscher.  We finally had pity on Baloo and had him euthanized, and then Gekker expired of extreme gecko old age.  Mischa, however, was relatively young and we expected her to stay healthy for a number of years.  Nonetheless, lately she's lost weight, acts sluggish, and seems to be losing her sight.  Diabetes is the first thing that springs to mind -- I guess we'll be taking her to the vet to find out.

[Update 9/12/12: The veterinarian, indeed, diagnosed Mischa with diabetes.  I never expected to care enough for a pet to give it insulin shots, but that's exactly what we're doing for Mischa; however, surgery to correct the cataracts that she seemingly developed overnight -- and which have left her all but blind -- is pretty much out of our price range, no matter the level of our caring.]

3. As the fall presidential election approaches, it occurs to me that, really, the only reason Barack Obama is even in the running for re-election is that he's African American.  (Of course, race was about 90% of the reason he defeated Hillary Clinton in the 2008 Democratic primaries.)  Is it racist to posit that a Caucasian with Obama's record in office probably would have faced a bruising primary challenge and, at the least, would be polling well behind his opponent from the other major party?  The Dems and their allies in the media have none-too-subtly suggested that there can be no legitimate opposition to Obama's policies -- that all such opposition is, by definition, fueled by racism.  Others have said it more eloquently, but when "racism" encompasses sincere policy differences, the word really has lost most of its meaning, and, if enough people wake up to that reality, Mitt Romney will be president next year

4. When I was growing up, both of my parents were registered Democrats (and, for all I know, my mother could still be one).  As the Democratic Party moved steadily left-ward in the late 1960s and early 1970s, however, my father became a Republican and died an arch-conservative.  The biggest difficulties I would have with being a Democrat these days are (a) the fact that unrestricted abortion rights (including late-term abortions) are practically the central sacrament of the quasi-church of Democrat "progressivism," and (b) the fact that the Dems continue to expand government entitlements drastically without any realistic means of paying for them.  No matter what one believes about abortion rights, there simply is no good justification for a third-trimester abortion -- it's baby-killing, pure and simple.  And no matter what one believes government can or should do to "spread the wealth" to the poor, it is the height of irresponsibility and recklessness to increase entitlement spending radically with no revenue to pay for it.  I think the Dems ought to "man up" and confess the obvious truth of these things, inasmuch as one of them is killing our country morally, and the other is doing so fiscally.

5. BYU has played its first football game of the 2012 season, beating Washington State handily, 30-6.  It's not realistic to expect the Y to go undefeated, but, having seen their first outing, I believe there isn't a game on the Cougars' schedule that they can't win.

[Update 9/21/12: BYU has now lost two close games in a row, to Utah and Boise State.  The Y's defense has played heroically, but the offense has been horrible; points given up off turnovers were the difference in both losses.  I won't jump off the bandwagon, but clearly BYU isn't as good a team as they appeared to be.]

6. I've been using an "event monitor" to record heart arrhythmias, and it appears that I have some left-atrial fibrillation that could be caused by high blood pressure.  I believe, however, that the combination of long-term insomnia and chronic disequilibrium have contributed heavily to whatever heart issues I'm having.  I'm on medication for it now, but it's difficult to say what my long-term treatment plan will be.  Diet will undoubtedly play a big role in it, but that won't be easy for me.

It weighs on my mind....

At Philmont Scout Ranch, 2004

1. I've been thinking a lot about how I used to idolize certain rock stars, even having fantasies about becoming one myself.  In recent times, however, I've found, after reading several rock-star memoirs or biographies, that all I feel now for pop musicians of all stripes is unadulterated revulsion.  I still listen to the pop music of the 60s, 70s, and 80s -- and I like some music released since then -- but I no longer have any regard for the people who made/make it.

2. In the last few weeks I've seen some slight improvement in my health.  My mal de debarquement (MdD) rocking sensation hasn't gone away, but I haven't been feeling quite as bad all the time.  I think two things have helped.  One, I've been taking Sertraline (Zoloft), a "selective seratonin reuptake inhibitor" (SSRI) anti-depressant.  (The literature for MdD states that some patients derive some relief from SSRIs.  It may be that all the Sertraline does is mitigate the anxiety and depression that otherwise result from MdD -- in other words, it doesn't help the underlying condition but merely blunts its secondary effects -- but that's something.  I went through some bad days while adjusting to the med, but I seem to be seeing some benefit now.)  And two, I've stopped doing any kind of hamstring stretches as part of my warm-up routine at the gym.  Apparently I can't stretch my hammies, even "lightly," without causing chronic lower-back muscle tears; now that I've stopped, however, my back has felt much better.

3. I haven't had much desire to play guitar recently.  Somehow, guitar-playing has only added to my depression of late -- possibly because the stuff I play tends to be blues-based, and (as Elton John might say) there's a reason they call it the blues.  I also wonder sometimes if I've simply wasted too much of my life playing guitar when I could have been doing more-constructive things.  The guitar used to have something of a therapeutic effect on me, as it helped me to channel or resolve my emotions in much the same way that keeping a journal has always helped me to focus my thoughts; however, now it seems only to create negative emotions or to aggravate existing ones.

4. Related to the foregoing is the fact that a variety of activities have fallen out of my life over time, creating "space" that I've had a hard time filling by other means.  I used to like to go to Las Vegas and do a little low-roller gambling with my brother-in-law Mike, but it's now been almost six years since my last trip there and I'm only mildly interested in going back.  I used to like to go bouldering with Rod Williamson in the Sandia foothills, but that's long gone from my life now.  I also used to enjoy the adventure of caving with friends, but it's now been almost four years since our last trip to the Guads.  (It's probably a moot point now that there are fears about the spread of "white nose syndrome," which has been killing bats by the tens of thousands back east; I doubt any of the cognizant agencies in New Mexico is issuing recreational caving permits now, and they may never do so again.)  I used to enjoy backpacking, at least to the extent I ever did it, but it's been almost six years now since Bob Maes and I last went to the Grand Canyon.  I sang for five years (1997-2002) in a local men's a cappella group called "De Profundis" -- which I enjoyed to a certain extent, although I never really regarded it to be worth the time commitment (plus I'm not that great a singer to begin with).  Now, well...I really don't even like to sing in our ward choir.  

So what do I like to do?  I still like to hike, at least insofar as I can find time and energy for it.  I like to go camping with the family, although that's difficult to swing more than once or twice a year.  I like to exercise, whether it's riding a stationary bike at the gym or taking long walks with Dorine; it's been nice that Dorine has caught the "exercise bug," inasmuch as we have that in common now.  I spend too much time on the Internet, which is really my only source of news and information these days.  I also spend too much time watching "reality TV" shows on The History Channel, A&E, TruTV, and SpikeTV.  Finally, I like to go shopping, mainly to spend time with Dorine.  My problem with trying to find any new pastimes these days -- constructive or otherwise -- is the stupid MdD and how it saps all my resources.

5. I've often wondered if I'm at least partly a hypocrite for being politically conservative at the same time I work in a quasi-government job at a national laboratory.  In many ways, I am part of what I rail against -- I'm paid well for the job I do; I have fairly lavish benefits (especially annual vacation time); I could retire as early as age 55; and I curse every time the benefits/retirement package is modified to my detriment (which is practically every year), even though I know why the cost-cutting measures are necessary.  (The company's new hires don't even have a pension plan anymore; rather, all they get is greater "matching" contributions to their 401(k) savings plans.)  One could reasonably ask why I'm in favor of cutting federal spending in drastic fashion when seemingly I'm just one more pig at the federal trough; I'm not sure I have a good answer.

6. I'm looking forward very much to the start of the college football season, if only to watch BYU play.  Some people have put the "Y" down for going independent in football -- claiming the only reason it did so was that no "power" conference would extend it an invitation to join -- but the mere fact that all of its games are on national TV (on ESPN, BYUtv, or...this year, against Notre Dame...NBC) has surely expanded its fan base.  And if I'm at all representative of that fan base, the ability to watch BYU on television has likewise deepened loyalty to the Cougar "brand."  I used to say, inasmuch as I earned two degrees (JD, MBA) from the University of New Mexico and one (BA) from BYU, that I was two parts UNM fan and one part BYU fan.  However, given that UNM all but disappeared from TV as the result of the Mountain West Conference's exclusive broadcast contract with its debacle of a network "The mtn," I naturally gravitated to BYU when it left the MWC and went on the air full-time.

As for the University of Utah's joining the Pacific-12 Conference last year, I can't help but liken it to Barack Obama's winning the Nobel Peace Prize in 2009.  Just as Obama won the Nobel prize, not for anything he'd done, but simply by virtue of not being (and as a pointed rebuke to) George W. Bush, Utah was invited to join the Pac-12 essentially as a reward for not being (and as a pointed rebuke to) BYU.  Having grown up in New Mexico, I am not particularly anti-University of Utah: I rooted for the U in its bowl game last year against Georgia Tech and even pulled for the San Francisco 49ers in last year's NFL playoffs because of their quarterback Alex Smith (a U product).  However, I really want BYU to beat Utah -- thereby avenging a horrible 54-10 loss last year and putting a few inferiority-complexed U fans in their place -- in the two schools' September 15 football game in SLC.  We'll see if membership in a "power" conference truly is conducive to perpetual football superiority; my guess is that it isn't, necessarily.

[Update 9/17/12: Well, BYU lost to Utah again, 24-21, although at least this year's game wasn't as big an embarrassment as last year's.  It was, however, about the most bizarre football game I've ever seen.  Not only did the crowd noise have a significant impact on the game (causing BYU to receive a huge number of "false start" penalties and also to snap the ball early a couple of times out of the "shotgun" formation, one of which led to a fumble that a Utah player picked up and returned for a touchdown), but the home fans ran out on the field prematurely -- twice -- and had to be herded back off the field.  The first time, the "friendly" home timekeeper had run out the clock on BYU, but an official's review caused one second to be put back on the clock, which in turn allowed BYU to attempt a 51-yard field goal.  That attempt was blocked, but the home fans ran out again onto the field while the ball was still "live," leading to a penalty against Utah that gave BYU another attempt at a field goal (despite there being no time remaining, since of course a football game can't end on a defensive penalty), an eminently make-able one from 36 yards; however, this time the ball bounced off the left upright, finally ending the game.  Of course, I would have liked to see the game go to overtime, but in a sense it was cosmic justice -- BYU was outplayed and simply didn't deserve to win.  I'll keep rooting for them, however!]

Cabin Trip, August 2-6, 2012

Kristy with Hailee on the San Juan

By the San Juan near the malt shoppe

In the Rio Blanco near the cabin

Walking up-river for another tubing run

By the San Juan on the east end of town

Alexis on the banks of the San Juan

Maddi and Hailee at Treasure Falls

Dion floating on the San Juan

Me with Maddi in the Rio Blanco

Having ice cream at the malt shoppe

Chris with Maddi in the San Juan

Dorine on the river walk in town

Outside the cabin

Kiley and Sam at Treasure Falls

Zach floating on the San Juan

Some of the kids on the San Juan

Kiley and Sam on the San Juan

Zach playing Wii in the cabin

Family members at Treasure Falls

Treasure Falls

Dion and Kayla

Chris floating on the San Juan

Me at Echo Amphitheater, 1963

Me at Echo Amphitheater, 2012

                                                        Lunch at the cabin, 8/5/12

We recently spent four nights at the cabin, arriving on Thursday, August 2, and coming home on Monday, August 6.  Most of our family went up on this trip -- only Darren, who's in Provo, and Devery and Easton, who decided there would be a big-enough crowd as things stood, didn't go.  The cabin, which isn't all that big, became a bit of a zoo at times with seventeen people there, but all in all, we had fun.  Dorine and I took one bedroom, and Kiley and Sam the other, for the first two nights, and then we relinquished the bedrooms to Kristy and Chris, and to Heidi and Dion, for the last two nights.  I can't say I relish sleeping on an airbed in the living room -- especially when I use a breathing machine at night for my sleep apnea -- but it all worked out.  We did a little playing in the Rio Blanco by the cabin, but more fun was had in town on the San Juan River, which was low enough for safe inner-tubing.  I enjoyed our usual trips to the malt shoppe, to Treasure Falls, and to the supermarket.  I made a point of stopping at Echo Amphitheater on the way home, as I desired to get a picture of me standing in the same place in which my mother took a photograph of me when I was four years old.  As you can tell from the photos above, much of the same infrastructure is still in place from nearly fifty years ago.  I shot the video embedded above, which shows the cabin living room and kitchen/dining area and gives a good idea of life at the cabin with extended family.

Camping Trip to Villanueva, July 13-14, 2012

Dorine with Kayla and Tyler

Kayla at the river's edge

Tyler on the bank of the river

Our campsite, next to the water tank

Mason, Kayla, Tyler

Easton and Devery

Mariah, Nolan

Dorine with Noelle

Mason

Mason and Tyler planning mischief

Another view of our campsite

Hailee

Kristy and Devery with Noelle

The twins checking out the "bichos"

Zach, Nolan, Alexis, Nicole

Sweating out the heat

We took our annual family camping trip to Villanueva State Park on Friday, July 13.  It turned out to be a crowded evening at the park; it was a good thing that Dorine and I (along with Heidi and Dion's kids and Nicole's friend Mariah Smith) got there at 2:30 pm to claim a couple of "sheltered" campsites for our group.  As it was, we had to camp on the upper level at the water tank, which is about a quarter-mile walk from the river and the full-service bathrooms (although our sites did at least have running water and a decent pit toilet).  Feeling self-conscious about "squatting" on two campsites with one car, I didn't feel like we could even go walk around until Devery and Easton and their kids got there at about 5:30 pm, so we sat in the heat for about three hours.  (I should at least have gone and soaked my t-shirt to stay cool, but it didn't occur to me to do that until later.)  We had steak/chicken fajitas for dinner, which tasted great, and then Kristy and Chris and their kids arrived at around 7:30 pm.  

As always, it was a lot of work to set up tents, inflate air beds, and get out sleeping bags, but at least we had plenty of space for everyone.  We didn't do a whole lot that evening, but we did take the little kids on a walk down to the main bathrooms, both to wash up and to look for toads and bugs.  The next morning we had a nice breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns, pancakes, and orange juice.  We had brought along our inner tubes, so we pumped them up (and patched them, as necessary) and took turns using them to float down the river, which was enjoyable, and the kids got to play at the playground.  We didn't get to take any hikes to speak of, and our staying only one night once again raised questions about whether the trip was worth all the work, but overall we had a lot of fun.  Next year we may look for a different place to camp, as the "secret" is clearly "out" about Villanueva -- it's significantly more popular now than it was when we first went there in 2004.

No Hike for Wussies (or Quintagenarians)

Hiking down Chimney Canyon for a change

John on the Osha Spring Trail

Second Part of the Hike

First Part of the Hike

Yesterday I "celebrated" my 20-year service anniversary at Sandia National Laboratories by taking a long, brutal hike with John Brewer, who not only is my primary "big hike" hiking partner but my supervisor at SNL. John recently turned 50 years old, so now we're both in our fifties, an age at which one might think we'd start becoming less-ambitious respecting the 3-4 hikes we get to do together every year. However, I consider myself to be somewhat like Matthew Broderick's title character in the film Ferris Bueller's Day Off, in that I'm not sure how many more "killer" hikes I have in me, so I'd better make "this" one count.  Yesterday's hike "counted" and then some.

Multiple hiking guides to the Sandia Mountains have contained trail descriptions for something called the "Osha Spring Trail," an old mining road for most of its distance; however, I'd never hiked it because of (a) the relative inaccessibility of the bottom trailhead, which is not far from the village of Placitas at the northern end of the Sandia range, and (b) the relatively long distance from the upper terminus to an easy pick-up point.  I'd also never hiked Chimney Canyon in the downward direction, something the current hiking guide author recommends as an alternative to the strenuous hike up, which I'd done on perhaps a dozen occasions through the years with various people (the first 2-3 times by myself).  Somehow I got the idea of doing a "traverse" of the mountain that involved both hiking up the Osha Spring Trail and hiking down Chimney Canyon.  I was more than a little apprehensive about taking such a long and arduous hike; however, John was game for it, so John's dad Jack (who, by the way, was Dorine's bishop when she was a teenager) dropped us off at the Osha Spring trailhead a little before 8:00 am yesterday morning.

The lower part of Osha Spring, briefly, was a killer for me, as it is both steep and exposed to sun and caused me to expend hundreds of calories that I hadn't "banked" by eating breakfast. Things got better after I ate something and drank a "Five Hour Energy," and after clouds rolled in that provided us with perfect hiking weather for most of the day.  However, sustained uphill hiking is not something that sits well with me these days, as both my age and my mal de debarquement-related physical limitations cause me to have to stop a lot on the way and catch my breath.  (I was never much of a "hare" in aerobic terms, but I'm definitely a "tortoise" now.) 

Notwithstanding the great weather we had, several factors threatened the hike we'd planned.  One, the Osha Spring Trail was much longer and harder than I'd anticipated.  Two, I'd forgotten just how far it is from the northern terminus of the 10K Trail, on the Crest Trail, to the primitive path leading off to Chimney Canyon.  Three, the idea of walking over to the upper Tramway terminal, then riding the tram down the mountain, presented itself as an appealing alternative as the day went on.  We'd originally planned to hike up to Sandia Crest and eat something at the gift shop there before heading back down Chimney Canyon; however, between the late hour and the effort required to go a mile or so out of our way, the only way we were going to go down Chimney Canyon was to forgo the Crest entirely.  (What finally settled our continuing down was my statement to John that I knew I'd count myself a wussy -- only I didn't say "wussy" -- if I didn't finish the hike we'd planned.)  Luckily, John had brought a big pouch of tuna and some crackers, most of which he gave to me to eat as we rested up for the trek down Chimney Canyon.

Chimney Canyon in the downhill direction isn't the aerobic ordeal that is hiking up it, but it's twice as dangerous and half again as scary.  After one finally gets out of the steep, loose couloir near the top of the route, it becomes somewhat easier to follow the "trail" down the canyon, and John and I were finally able to trace out the lower part of the route where it intersects the La Luz Trail.  (Hiking up Chimney Canyon, we'd always got onto the route by bushwhacking up from the prominent inside bend of the La Luz in the immediate area; frankly, now I'm not sure that isn't the easier means of accessing Chimney Canyon from the bottom.)

Finally, after getting onto the La Luz Trail, we almost immediately went off it again to take the variant trail that bypasses the lower switchbacks and puts one on the Tramway Trail about 200 yards from its intersection with the lower La Luz.  Then we hiked down the last mile of the La Luz to its lower trailhead, where Dorine, bearing ambrosial 44 oz. sodas from Sonic, came and picked us up at 4:30 pm.

This was truly a once-in-a-lifetime hike: having hiked up the Osha Spring Trail once, I will never do it again; and likewise, having hiked down Chimney Canyon once, I will never do it again, either.  (It may be a moot point if my current physical trajectory holds.)

Looking back up Chimney Canyon from the lower part of the route

Twenty years at SNL - and an uncertain path forward

Bldg. 802 - my "ivory tower" office indicated by red arrow

Today, July 6, 2012, marks my 20-year service anniversary at Sandia National Laboratories. It's sort of a bittersweet milestone in my life: on one hand, SNL has been a great place to work in terms of lifestyle and benefits; on the other, my career hasn't been precisely as rewarding in a larger personal or professional sense as it might have been. And now that I have disabling health issues that impede my holding down a job -- never mind jump-starting a career that stalled out about twelve years ago -- I think only about managing to put in another five years so that I can retire plausibly and at least somewhat gracefully.

What's my opinion of SNL? Well, that depends whether you're asking about the technical (i.e., scientific/engineering) side of the company, which generally does great work and consists of extremely intelligent and capable individuals, or the administrative side of the company, which has gradually become a "laboratory" of a more sociological sort, the "experimental results" from which have been, shall we say, somewhat mixed. I have mentioned previously that I ended up at SNL out of some desperation, as I absolutely hated the three-plus years I spent practicing law in 1989-92. Given that I, like a lot of my peers in those days, fell into a career at SNL -- whereas most business professionals hiring on now are recruited and often aspire to work at SNL -- I was never completely able to take seriously the administrative milieu at SNL, even in the early days.  And, to the extent I've been forced by circumstances to take it seriously, I could never take myself seriously as a part of the picture.  All of that, together with my innate laziness and preternatural aversion to sucking up to upper management, perhaps made it inevitable that I would never make the jump into management or "distinguished" status.  Luckily, I'm a sufficiently bright individual to provide value down in the trenches, despite my not being overly versant with the increasingly complex electronic applications we use for financial reporting.

However, it's difficult to do 100% of any real job when one is 40-50% disabled from persistent mal de debarquement, and that's by far the biggest issue I face moving forward.  Perhaps Cha, et al., summed it up best in this excerpt from their article "Clinical features and associated syndromes of mal de debarquement" (Journal of Neurology (2008) 255:1038-1044):

I'm fond of saying that if the people close to me could experience life for one day as I have to live it every day, they'd be clamoring to facilitate my retiring on a disability.  However, given the non-obvious origin, nature, and extent of my symptoms, I'd be viewed as a slacker and a hypochondriac if I pushed for it, so all I can do is try (a) to find the least-stressful job available, (b) to sleep and exercise to the extent I'm able, and (c) simply to ride out the storm.

(It's notable that my starting at SNL in 1992 coincided with the last year in which AT&T operated the company, when all employees were still being given 192 hours of vacation time per year from day one on the job.  After Martin Marietta [now Lockheed Martin] took over management in 1993, all new hires were given significantly less annual leave -- I'm not sure anyone else ever gets up to 192 hours -- which still sticks in the craw of many people who have otherwise passed me by on the career ladder.  Those are the breaks, I guess.)