Rescued cavers plunged into deep doo

Well those trapped cave divers from the UK were rescued down in Mexico. [I would never do that — don’t like confined spaces. I’m not claustrophoic per se, but cave diving is right out.]

The good news is that they’re alive and above ground. The funny — ironic — news is that they’re in mucho queso with the Mexican immigration authorities. That’s funny, get it? Mexican immigration authorities are cheesed off because these Brits may have been speelunkin’ around under false pretenses. Imagine that.

Link

Hmmm …

“some people postpone living in an

endless

preparation for a life that leaks its fuel

before it

fires from its launching pad”

from the poem “A Message Gone Awry,” by Gerald Locklin, from The Life Force Poems (Water Row Press).

How to Save Q

I’m working on a story. The working title is A Perfect Day. It’s the story of two guys having breakfast. No, it’s the story of one guy having breakfast with his friend Bill. In the drafts and notes I’ve worked on so far, the narrator does not give his name, but I’ll call him Q here.

Q has an idea of who he is, where he is, how his day should start, how his breakfast should be cooked, and what is going to happen during the day, so that it can be perfect. Things start out OK, but things fall apart. He didn’t count on memory being a part of things, or a dark and driving rain.

What I’m thinking about tonight is how to drive the story towards a point that covers the emotional ground between here and there, but still winds up at some reasonably hopeful point in the road.

Bracelets

It’s March 23, and I’ve got this memory. I was a junior in high school, sitting with my girlfriend Carol in my ’67 Mercury at the end of Ash Avenue, by the beach. We decided to go steady. That’s what they called it back then; don’t know what they call it now.

We got matching gold bracelets with the date – March 23, 1978– on them. We wore them until we broke up in 1980. I guess wearing the bracelet for two years is what settled the date so firmly in my memory.

I lost track of Carol several years later. I remember we went to my five year class reunion together. I know she’s been married a couple of times, but I don’t know her last name. Not much there to Google.

I wonder if I still have that bracelet somewhere. It wouldn’t surprise me; there are boxes in the closet that weren’t thoroughly searched when I moved to this condo. But I think I’ll just let the question lie; no need to know.

I could say the same about Carol, though it might sound crass. Truth is, I’d like to know what happened to her. She’s a nice person, and it would be good to know she’s alright. The world can be a though place to live sometimes, don’t you think?

Canned IT

So, being unemployed I surfed by a Web site called IT Unemployed and found a poll on employment status. Look at these stats on persons who responded:

Working, and all is well [ 7.9% (13) ]

Working but had to take a pay/benefits/hours cut [ 5.4% (9) ]

Working but expecting to be unemployed soon [ 8.5% (14) ]

Unemployed six months or less [ 15.2% (25) ]

Unemployed more than six months but less than one year [ 19.5% (32) ]

Unemployed more than one year [ 43.2% (71) ]

Holy harddrive, Battman. I may not be alone out here. More on this topic later. (I’m not IT, just T – technical writer)