Robin's Blog Blather

The more things change...

2011-09-28T01:59:25Z

...the more they stay the same. Ten years ago I joined a group called Toronto Ghosts and Hauntings Research Society and 4 years later became part of its newly formed umbrella organization, PSICAN (Paranormal Studies and Investigations Canada). Although I did a huge amount of work getting that organization started, I learned today that I (and the fellow that came up with both the name and the logo) have never been considered founders of PSICAN. Ah well, ok no biggie. Then I learned that PSICAN will never be incorporated and run professionally—i.e. there will never be a board of directors or a financial officer or any of those things that make an organization legitimate –at least in my eyes. I’m told the owners of the domain and server space and long-time directors consider themselves the only founders and have no intention of ever adding a group governance and transparency. They have a vision of PSICAN as a social arena for likeminded paranormal enthusiasts to chat and maybe do some investigations. I need more.

I do wish them well. I hope they get what they want out of the endeavour. I am remaining as a consultant, available if/when then are interested in my opinions. I don’t intend to socialize with them though. It’s not my cuppa. Some of the members are dear friends and that will not change, but to be honest it is a great relief to not have to be nice to those folks I didn’t respect and enjoy. Now, I don’t have to dialog or interact with them at all. Ironically, they don’t even know who they are. Probably never will.

The bare bones truth of the matter is that I can do what I do—paranormal research—with much more integrity and energy without group affiliations. I’ve been accused, upon my leaving, of going off to “start my own group”. This is not going to happen. I have my practice, solely, and a few hand selected people have been invited to assist me from time to time, but no, there will be no group formed. Unlike the founders of PSICAN, I don’t need a group of people around me to validate my work and I don’t want to socialize and look for ghosts. I want to do serious research, using logic and scientific method. My days of hand holding through dramas and smoothing over political disagreements are done. At some point today I realized that I was no longer sad and upset about that. I can honestly say that at least in the past three years or so, I’ve never been happier professionally. This comes as a shock to me.

I am extremely proud of my work with PSICAN. Although I am deeply disappointed that it will never be a world leader in ground breaking paranormal study, I know I gave them my very best and that each person in the organization, whether they liked me or not, benefitted from my contributions. I’m proud of the individuals who have grown as people and as researchers. I’m proud of the impact we had on public perception of the study of things deemed paranormal. I’m proud of our community involvement, our pristine reputation for witness privacy and the things we accomplished during that time. I’m also proud of myself. I learned a lot from the people in this group—some of it the hard way, but nonetheless there were lessons learned. I used to say that Matthew and Sue and PSICAN made me what I am today, but I recently realized they didn’t. I did. I did with a lot of hard work and sacrifice and commitment and study. PSICAN may have provided the canvas, but I painted the masterpiece.

The struggles with PSICAN are not new. The conflicting goals have been problematic for quite some time. The way we got through it was for each of us (Matt/Sue and I) to give a little bit. Sometimes it was one way, other times the other, but someone always had to bite their tongue, swallow their pride, or make a concession. We did that out of respect for each other and out of an idea that there was a greater good. Sadly, that is no longer the case. It was and is time for the camps to go to their separate corners; not to regroup for the next fight, but to call a truce and redraw the boundaries. I think we’ll all be a lot happier in the long run.

It’s still pretty new, but I appear to have only lost one friend in the process and that’s pretty good in my book. I’m not a particularly social animal, but I did make a couple of VERY close friends over time and several more pretty good friends as well as some very much appreciated colleagues and acquaintances. I assume that my friends remained because I didn’t ask them to choose. I have no problem with whatever affiliations they choose to have. There is no reason why loyalty to PSICAN and loyalty to me have to be in conflict. I hope the folks that own PSICAN feel the same way. (As an aside, the one friend I lost wasn’t the person I thought they were anyway).

I do feel a bit like I'm flying without a safety net. I always knew that if I failed on my own I would always have a home at PSICAN and that was a comfort. But now I’ve suddenly noticed I can, in fact, fly! The sandbags have been chucked from the basket of my hot air balloon and the tether is loosed. I might crash land, I might get caught in a tree, heck I might even burst into flames like the Hindenburg. Right now, all I know is the view has suddenly become stunning and boundless.

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Rockin' Chair

2011-08-21T21:20:39Z

SO last night my man took me to see a coupe of Canadian bands--fortunately these were big enough that I had heard of them in the US, even played them on the radio when I was dj-ing. We went up to Casina Rama in Orillia, Ontario, fully armed with $20 each to blow on slots. We're big spenders that way.

It was the occasion of our eleventh wedding anniversary. We try to do something special each year, even if it is just a good restaurant. We left at about 4pm headed to the Casino about 2 hours away with doors opening at 7, concert at 8. I was amused when we passed a stretch limo on the way up. I joked it was probably the band. It actually was.

Dinner was at A & W Root Beer, which I had never been to in Canada. I had the "Grandma Burger) which, now that I think about it, foreshadowed the night.I've been a long time Wendy's fan, but this burger was amazing. Seriously delicious (sans horseradish sauce of course). The only thing that keeps me from making A & W my new favorite restaurant is that they don't serve ice. They don't even HAVE ice. If you know me, you'll understand my frustration.

Off to the casino where it took me almost an hour to lose my $20. I tend to be fairly lucky at casinos and lotteries--not big wins, its just I usually break even. This was the case on the nickel slots. But I eventually got down to just 15 cents and it was time to go find our concert seats.

I have to tell you, the entertainment venue is amazing. Half of it is floor seating and the riser seating is about the same as a modern movie theater. It can hold 5000 total but it does so very intimently. We had east floor seats (facing the stage we were to the left) in row 11 at the outer end of the row. It was pretty comfortable, although I'm not sure I would want these seats at the kind of concert where people are standing all the time. That wasn't the case here. Not because the bands were bad, but the crowd was--lets just say thier mosh pit days were OVER.

I snuck in my tiny video camera and voice recorders just to see if I COULD get past security and shoot something. It was a walk in the park, although later there was an older usher harassing folks with iphones. We were near the door so it was easy to watch the people amble in. It was like a geriatric field trip. Walkers, canes, scooters and crutches abounded and I would say that hair was conspicuously absent. Nobody flicked thier Bic. There was a bit of a crowd in front of the stage, but the big screen shots we saw made us giggle. Gray haired ladies reaching for the stars. Dentured men gently bopping up and down to the music. Cougars (read: women in thier late 40's who think they are sexy) with serious sag in dropped necklines below their jowls. It was depressing. It was even more depressing when we realized we were there too. Maybe not in front of the stage, but hubby is bald and I have a cane so obviously-to our chagrin-we fit right in.

The concert was a benefit for Radio for Radiology, a fundraiser to get new radiological cancer treatment machines in the local hospital at Orillia/Muskoka. After ticket sales of this concert they are only $20,000 away from their half million dollar goal. Astounding success. Casino Rama donated the venue and the acts appeared either free or at cost. Two radio stations and several local businesses partnered in this endeavor and the equipment will be installed this fall. The opening band, Code Blue, was formed from surgeons from RVH and they didn't suck! The first headliner was Glass Tiger (Don't forget me when I'm Gone). I really enjoyed them.
(here are their then and now photos)

and a grainy live clip from last night

And the top headliner was April Wine (Just Between You and Me and Sign of the Gypsy Queen). I didn't realize they had been around since 1969!
{Old, newer and Current Photos)

This band was definitely Doug's favorite. A little too hard rock for my taste, but they can still rock!
(obligatory pirate video)

So there were were, rockin' from our chairs on the floor of Casino Rama. Old, and loving it!

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At least there are pillows.

2011-07-03T19:25:45Z

What a day. I'm on a train again, and thankful for it. I awoke in my New Jersey hotel room at 11am. My first thought was “wow the clocks must be wrong because my alarm hasn’t gone off yet.” It’s true the alarm did not go off, but that’s because it was set only for weekdays and this is Saturday. Yikes. With a train departing in Philadelphia in 2.5 hours, I was in a panic.

Fortunately I had packed most things last night and washed out something to wear to the Laundromat. The plan was to get up at 730, have breakfast and goodbyes with the cousins, then do laundry and gas the rental car. This was not to be. I ditched showering, checking out, and both laundry and gas, threw on my rinsed out clothes and dashed to return my rental car. Fortunately they only charged me $55 to fill the tank. It would have cost me at least $35 had I done it myself so I figured a $20 stupidity fee was tolerable.

They called my cab for me and I got my regular guy, Al from Best Taxi, In about 15 minutes. This put me from wakening to the cab ride in 45 minutes. I consider that a miracle. But I was still worried. It was 11:45 and my train left from Philadelphia (remember, I was still in Cherry Hill, NJ!) in just under an hour. Plus I couldn’t get my ticket from the automated kiosk because I had misplaced (likely deeply packed) the computer printout with the bar code. And I was fully loaded with luggage. Al came through like a champ. He got me deposited just outside the Amtrak station at 12:05. I’m pretty sure the cab sprouted wings and flew. I tipped him $15 and he deserved it—he handled my baggage from the trunk of the rental car to the door of the station, got me through heavy Philly fourth of July traffic in 20 minutes, including crossing the Ben Franklin Bridge with a $5 toll and talked me down from a panic attack of major proportions. I’m dead serious about that.

Inside the station I was ticketed by 12:15 and waiting for a RedCap—those nifty guys who will handle your baggage and preboard you if you tip them well. There were none to be found. None. They called my train for boarding and I couldn’t access the elevators without a staff person. I scooted over to the boarding escalators, told the conductor my problem and he personally carried my bags down for me. On top of that he refused a tip.

I made it on the train with a full three minutes to spare. It was packed. It as rows of two seats rather than the one I came down on from Toronto which was a 2 and 1 situation. All the rows on both sides had at least one person in them, and more than half had two. I found someone who looked relatively nonthreatening and she allowed me to sit. By the time we left our next stop about 20 minutes later, Business Class was full and they were kicking out Coach people to make room for the ticketed folks who needed a seat. It was like that through to Harrisburg, PA where it cleared out enough for me to move over the aisle to newly emptied seats. I’m now on my own in a two seater and starting to relax. Only 4.75 more hours and I’m in Pittsburgh, PA.

The last few days have been a jumble. My middle daughter totalled her car in Toronto (she’s fine but the car is gone) and my youngest became ill at his baseball game and delayed the trip with his dad by half a day. Last I heard they had made it as far as London, Ontario, so I’m hoping someone will be able to meet me in Pittsburgh as planned!

I haven’t yet eaten today and I should go get something but that would meat putting my shoes on and frankly I’m not hungry enough to do that. Will nibble candy until I get desperate!

~later~

OK I got desperate. The $6 hamburger was really good, actually. Read some, watched a little more of a documentary on Mothman I’m trying to get through, and did some crossword puzzles. Next think I knew we were in Pittsburgh, half an hour early. Excellent service at the station in Pittsburgh and hubby arrived about 5 minutes after my bags and I got to the main meeting area so all was well. We headed back toward Columbus, stopping only for gas and dinner. Dinner was at the worst Ponderosa on the planet in Weirton, WV. I kid you not, the guy on the grill walked by and grabbed a slice of pizza off the buffet and stuffed it in his mouth while heading back into the kitchen, and there was a cookie on the dessert table with a bite taken out of it.

We did make it to Mom’s at about 1230am. Lots to plan for in the week ahead!

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No Turns

2011-06-28T01:22:25Z

I'm pretty sure that is the State Motto for New Jersey. It's a variation of 'you can't get there from here." Someone in highway engineering figured that left turns just screw everything up, so you pretty much can't make a left in NJ--until, of course, you can. Confusing? Definitely. Most of the regular main roads are set up so that to make a left or a U turn you exit to the right and make a big loop. There's a similar intersection at Kingston Road and Midland in Scarborough. They post signs that you are to stay right unless you are passing--which you pretty much have to do constantly because everyone is so confused they don't dare go the speed limit in the right lane for fear they will miss their left turn. I avoided this by mostly taking highways and only stopping in at places on the right hand side of the streets. There are surprisingly few McDonalds on the right hand side of the streets in New Jersey, regardless of the way you are traveling. This makes the sweet tea feel even sweeter.

I slept in this morning, meaning I got up at 8:30. Leftover Cracker Barrel corn muffins make an awesome breakfast. Having a fridge and microwave in the room almost makes up for not having a coffee maker. I'm a researcher though, so having researched this hotel I had the wisdom to bring instant Starbucks. This would have been perfect had I also remembered to bring a mug. Fortunately there is a Target nearby. (For my Canadian friends, that's like Zellers) I also picked up plastic utensils and some sweetener and some milk. Now coffee is ready anytime!

Off to Woodbridge, NJ I went. Like Woodbridge, Ontario, there are a lot of Italians. My research though is about the Dutch and French in the area in the late 1600's. This is family research, Pyatts, Mostly I got confused. Collateral (related by marriage) lines include Bloomfield, Drake, Martin, Dunham and Fitzrandolph and they all intermarried over and over again. I will have to untangle the mess in my database. I did find a JMB Pyatt who was a member of the Sons of Temperance. I found that amusing, given my family history. Prior to my dad I doubt there was a dry Pyatt in the bunch. This bunch also intermixed last and first names. A child from the Pyatt/ Runyon marriage could be Runyon Pyatt, or if the mom was a Pyatt, perhaps Pyatt Runyon. And that child's first cousin might be Pyatt Hardy, Martin Drake, or Dunham Bloomfield. It makes me want to scream.

Next stop, Piscataway. I fell in love with this little town. Of course it is beautiful and historic, but it also has such wonderful energy. It just feels good, and I felt like I belonged there. I would claim that comes from genetic memory except that my genes aren't necessarily Pyatt genes. DNA testing has proven that my ancestor, John S Pyatt born 1840 in Nicholas County, WV, was not the son of William Pyatt, the family head of household, nor his sons or brothers. John S Pyatt, if a Pyatt at all, was not fathered by a Pyatt. And yes, I often wonder why I continue to research Pyatts knowing this.

In Piscataway I did find a photo of a Roger Dunham who was about 3 or 4 in the photo taken in the 1920's. He's not a direct line relative in any way, but he looks EXACTLY like my dad, his dad and grampa's brother Hickory. I photocopied it and will add it to my online collection when I get back to Toronto.

Five pm meant time to start back south to the hotel since I was about an hour away. I did manage to survive about 5 minutes of I95. Fortunately I didnt have to stay on it any longer. It isn't any better in New Jersey than it is in Washington, DC, Virginia, or North Carolina. Off another road--I think it was highway 130--I pulled off and explored this area:

(sorry about the size, I don't have my photo software on my laptop)

I think this is the Delaware River, and it's north of Burlington, NJ looking toward Pennsylvania. This is roughly the area where Joseph Bonaparte, brother to the famous Napoleon, saw what he believed to be the notorious "Jersey Devil". Another famous person, Commodore Stephen Decatur, saw the Devil not far from here as well.

The Jersey Devil legend has many "beginnings", three of which are plausible. In one, Mrs. Leeds of Burlington, NJ cursed the birth of her 13th child and this child became the Jersey Devil. This overlook is just north of Burlington near Bordentown, Unfortunately, this location is not near the Pine Barrens aka Pinelands where so many reports have been made in the past 100+ years. Hopefully by the end of the week I will have a better idea in which of the locations the infamous devil baby was born.

I did go into Burlington and it has some lovely old buildings. None of them appear to be from the 1735 era when Mrs Leeds lived, but I found a cemetery with many old, unreadable stones. I'll have photos of those online soon as well.

New Jersey is a fascinating place. There are so many roads, one wonders how there is room for housing and shops. Most cars are middle to high end--Toyotas to Mercedes and Cadillacs-yet the people driving them seem cheaply dressed and a little--well, blue collar. Bright shiny modern buildings are next door to historical sites. Even before the American Revolution, New Jersey was big on equal rights yet nearly every person I've seen working has been white while ever person I've seen sitting in doorways or on the street has been black.

And of course, you make a left turn by exiting right..

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The Adventure Begins

2011-06-26T06:40:17Z

Watching the scenery go by from the train while listening to the ipod is surreal. The music adds a layer of melancholy that invites a sense of lonliness Im not used to feeling. There are lots of people on the train, 12 in my car that will hold only 14. I have a single seat by the window, having moved from a double to allow a couple to ride together.

I can’t say enough about the staff. From Toronto to the US border, the employees belong to Via Rail. Once at the border, the train becomes fully Amtrak, complete with an American crew. Only one person remains the same, that of the café car attendant. He’s very nice, but a little timid. While we were stopped at the border I asked for a cup of ice and he had to get permission, as the café car was not yet open. Permission granted, I returned to my seat.

At Union Station in Toronto, my wonderful husband gave me $10 to tip the RedCap (porter) and that got me not only help with my baggage, but paved the way for me to board first, and being in Business Class I was actually truly the first on the train. I will admit to feeling a tad superior. The accommodations are wonderful and there is no “cattle call” boarding. The car holds only 14 (it’s half of a full car, the other half being the café car) so even fully booked, Business Class would not be crowded. It is set up 2/1 where the coach is 2/2. The seats must be significantly smaller and since my butt is not, business class is pretty much the only option for anything longer than an hour or two.

There have been few pretty views so far. The Niagara River was lovely, and occasionally there is farmland or forrest, but much has also been along highways or through warehouse and factory districts.

5:40pm and we’re pulling out of Utica, NY. A lovely couple from Australia are across the aisle from me and behind them are two chatty women, also Australian. Somewhere in their travels they have hooked up with the woman behind me and her husband (who is seated behind her). The three of them do NOT shut up. Thank God for earphones and the iPod. Blondie back there apparently is a Texan now living in Maryland, and she sells some product made from Teatree Oil to supplement her retirement income. Gah. Followed by the Australian chatterers singing, I kid you not, Almost Heaven, West Virginia, brought on by a discussion with Teatree Texan about the Shennandoah River. I resisted the urge to scream, “The Shenandoah does not run through West Virginia.”

Later in the ride she informed me, with delight, that we would be on the same train to Philly. Fortunately, that train had two large business class cars and I managed to avoid her. I also managed to avoid the RedCaps—not by choice. So there I was in Penn Station in blistering heat with two suitcases and a huge backpack, purse and cane, with no clue what to do next. I winged it and somehow managed to get on the right train.

Once in Philadelphia, I’m pretty sure I got screwed by the cabby. He claimed it would cost $65 to get me to my hotel across the river in New Jersey. I had already priced it online and knew it should cost $32. I told him I would give him $60 if he could get his visa machine working. We finally made a deal for $50 and he didn’t run the meter. He did, however, carry all three of my large bags up a flight of narrow stairs to my hotel room. I figure we both got what we wanted.

Hotel is awful and I’m here too late to order pizza. There are no ice machines. Fortunately I had prepaid my room for late arrival as it was the LAST room to be had south of Trenton. And it was cheap. So now it’s 230 in the morning and I’m starting to cool down thanks to a wonderful air conditioner. I’m going to finish my warm root beer and have some tuna salad and crackers and hit the bed.

Tomorrow a new adventure—getting my rental car and changing hotels. And figuring out how to purchase virtually everything on the visa since I’m a bit cash short thanks to the cab ride. Thank goodness for a noon checkout time!

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Quitting again

2011-05-28T18:02:35Z

So Im on day four of not smoking. Harder today, probably because I get to be home alone and I have lots of computer stuff to do. Plus, being Saturday afternoon, there's nothing on TV.

You see, I smoked excusively at my computer. Not in my car, not watching tv, not just sitting around. I only smoked in my office while I was being creative. Now, here I sit trying to be creative, and man oh man do I want a smoke.

I figure if I can get through this, I can be ready for the next one.

Hubby says if I make it two weeks he will get me flowers. Personally, I could use them right now, but I see his point. Ive made it this far before and turned back. So that feeds my stubbornness as well and makes it all good.

Having some "brain fog" as well--I understand that's part of the process of withdrawl. Should be short lived because I never was a "heavy" smoker, and certainly in the most recent years have smoked less than half a pack a day.

Perhaps a nap. I didnt get up until almost noon because I took some ativan before bed last night. Wow did I get an amazing sleep! Insomnia is another withdrawl symptom, and a menopause symptom. But then so is grouchyness--If I still have a family in a month we'll know they love me LOL

Money is really really tight right now too, which is stressful. Im very spoiled. Im used to going to get whatever we need right when we need it rather than budgeting for it. But we've got big travel plans over the next year so we're trying to get our sh!t together.

SO that's where I am today. Laundry and a powerpoint presentation are my goals, so I think I will take that nap.....

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Weird dream

2011-05-12T01:02:00Z

Dad and Jean lived in NC near the beach in a large mobile home. My girls and I were visiting, and the girls were about 6 or so. There was a lot of laundry to do. The girls were playing with a couple of Mexican kids, whose parents were also around, as was another guy of middle age and a guy named Jay who I found very attractive.

Turns out that dad and jean were running a place where people could sleep for a short time, like a few hours, or take a shower, etc. I assumed these were truckers, but eventually learned that wasn’t necessarily the case.

So there was this Jay person, who had a laptop and was gorgeous and very sweet. He seemed troubled, so when he asked for a red blanket I went and found him one. He fell asleep very quickly, tangled in the blanket, and naked, so I did see his penis. This is significant, as you will see.

So I left him sleeping, did more laundry, and came back out to discover the Mexican woman had verbally assaulted Jay because she found out he was an hermaphrodite. She had accused him of being a danger to her kids and he was very upset. I spoke to him and confirmed he was, told him that didn’t matter to me, and proceeded to give the woman a piece of my mind, reducing her to tears. Her husband came in and told me she was well within her rights and started quoting the Bible, to which I replied that I wasn’t Christian so his bible didn’t mean a thing to me.

Finally my dad kicked out the Mexican couple and their kids and gave Jay some free extra time to get some sleep. Then we turned on the tv and discovered the Eiffel Tower was falling down.

Weird.

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Too Liberal?

2011-04-11T18:36:00Z

Some of my colleagues are having a discussion about judgement. The gist of the conversation is that "you can't judge a book by its cover". That we should "accept" everybody.

I called bullshit.

I believe we have just as much right to shun people based on how they look as they have the right to look unusual. We don't have the right shoot them, mock them, bully them, etc, but I do think we have a right to make a judgement and act accordingly so long as it does not infringe on someone else's basic rights.

Example: Young black man in baggy pants with a chain and dreads walks into a convenience store. The clerk makes a mental note on where his gun is.

Bad thing? I don't think so. If he had aimed it at the kid and asked him to leave, that would cross a line, but he never infringed on him in any way, so how is this inappropriate?

Next example: Goth teenagers are sitting together on the subway. The only available seat is right next to them. You choose to stand at the other end of the car.

Bad thing? I don't think so. You haven't harmed them in any way, and if thier "feelings are hurt" by your choice then perhaps they should rethink how they look and take responsibility for how people will react to that.

Third: A middle aged man in a turban, an active duty Canadian Forces guy in an officer's uniform and homeless man are sitting on a bench. Who is the criminal?

We don't know. But if we don't want to hang out with any one of them for a latte we should have that right. We should have the right to not invite blacks to our private parties if we are bigots, but we should NOT have the right to not hire them if they are well qualified. We should have the right to exclude men from our ladies only parties but we don't have the right to refuse to serve them in a restaurant because they are wearing pink shirts. Nobody should have the right to assault someone else physically or verbally, but to avoid them and not make conversation beyond being polite is not necessarily wrong.

Im just pissed about this. The other group seems to honestly believe we have an obligation to treat everyone equally all the time. I believe choosing who you accept into your world based on how they look, so long as it doesn't infringe on thier basic human rights, should be a basic human right.

I say there is such thing as being TOO LIBERAL.

/rant

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Recipes and Memories

2011-04-07T23:22:00Z

Earlier this week I was recruited to handle the tea and coffee desserts at hubby's church. I have a committee meeting there after the service anyway, so I was planning to go. So I will be cooking and baking treats for about 40 people for Sunday morning.

Typically they have cake, cookies, cupcakes, and occasionally a fruit or cheese tray. I wanted something different. So I sat back and began thinking and my eyes fell on a cookbook called Seasoned with Love. This was a fundraiser cookbook for the daycare my girls were in in the late 1980s and early 1990s. As I flipped through the pages I was taken back to those days.

Miss Nancy's Early Learning Center was a wonderful place. There was never any issues on my end, but they had a couple with my younger daughter, Rachel, from time to time. Rachel has always been sort of a free spirit who functions in sort of a distorted reality. I don't consider that a bad thing, for it makes her tender, artistic, brave, and so much more.

Miss Nancy's was where we really discovered that. Our first "issue" was when she had to be disciplined for kissing too much. She kissed everybody, whether they wanted her to or not. It was difficult for her to understand that this was inappropriate because she felt she was expressing her affection--which on the surface is a good thing. But she was only 2, and in the daycare world where there are germs everywhere, kissing was not allowed. Fortunately she is now, at 24, still very affectionate, she just conveys her love better.

The best story on Rachel and Miss Nancy's was when they called me at work and wanted to know why my 4 year old was a racist.

About that time, her older sister Ryan, who is still a bit of a brainiac, was studying genetics. She was 7 or 8. She fully comprehended the idea of genes defining our physical traits and we talked often about it. Our talk was about eye color, hair color, height, and so on. Also at that time, we were learning about "stranger danger"; I was a single parent and felt it was crucial to prepare my girls for the evils that lay wait in the world. We set up passwords for people who were allowed to pick them up, talked about who a stranger is and who a friend is, and that even friends weren't allowed to pick them up unless they had the password.

So when the daycare called and asked about our family and racism I was dumbfounded. We lived just outside a North Carolina Marine Base and the girls had always had friends of every race and culture. Aparantly though, Rachel had pitched a fit when a woman tried to pick up her child and attempted to get staff to call the police to prevent the woman from taking the child. Aparantly Rachel had said the woman could not possibly be the child's mother because they "didn't match".

The child was black and his black father had always picked him? up in the past. On this day, his very white mother came to pick him up early. Rachel, having never seen this woman and it not being the regular time for pickups was concerned about stranger danger. Moreover, since her sister and I had been discussing how two brown eyed people make a brown eyed baby (and yes I know there are exceptions but we're talking second grade here), Rachel extrapolated that two brownskinned people would have to be the parents of a brown boy. Ergo the white woman could not possibly be his mother.

Raising gifted children is a treasure and a curse.

So here along with that memory is one of the recipes Im going to use on Sunday.

Microwave Chocolate Covered Cherry Cake
1 can cherry pie filling
12 oz chocolate chips
Devils food cake mix, mixed as directed

In a microwave bundt pan, cover the bottom with the chocolate chips. Cover the chips with the pie filling, then spoon the prepared cake mix over the pie filling. Microwave on high for about 13 minutes or until sides begin to pull away. Let stand in microwave an additional 5 minutes, then invert on a plate. Can be served warm or cold.

A couple of additional notes: Don't spray or greas the pan. If you don't have a microwave bundt pan (shame on you) then you may be able to use a bowl with a glass turned upside down. But you should really get a bundt pan.

I assume this can be made in a conventional oven as well, but I've never tried it. Be sure and let me know what you think, as this is one of my creations and one of my contributions to the Miss Nancy's cookbook.

Now back to work for me. I have poo to analyze and skulls to identify.

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On Blogging

2011-04-05T13:47:00Z

My biggest failure as a writer is my lack of discipline. I never have a shortage of topics on which to write, or a shortage of opinions to share. What I lack is the connection between wanting to do it and actually doing it. So I’ve networked my blog in hopes it will guilt me into writing it regularly.

That’s where you come in. If I can get 25 followers to this blog, I will commit to writing something at least twice a week, every week, barring being out of town. Sometimes it will be worth reading, other times not, and I’m especially terrible about removing spam comments, so be aware that there are LOTS of those. Every once in awhile I remove a couple hundred, but generally they go unchecked. I’m told that if one has a lot of comments it improves the market status of said blog, so I tend to leave the ones that are not outright selling something or nonsensical.

By way of an update, I have several active cases that I am working, and two are cryptozoological in nature. I’m consulting on a third crypto case, this one in Manitoba, and have just turned down my third series this year. If they were looking to cast for a consultant I likely would have taken it, but they wanted an “on camera expert” and I’ve grown very cynical about that sort of work. The show will have to seriously impress me before I agree to that. Three speaking engagements, a Conference, and a booth at an event are already scheduled through to November 1 and it’s only April. A week long genealogy conference is coming up at the end of June in the Philadelphia and I’m hoping to release my newest book, “Paraforensics” on October 1.

So there you have it. “Follow” this blog and make me write more!

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Breaking News: Catholics no longer burn witches

2011-02-15T23:02:00Z

"Wicca and Witchcraft: Understanding the Dangers" Currently sold out on Amazon's UK website. Written by Elizabeth Dodd for the Catholic Truth Society, this pamphlet sells for about $4.00 USD/CDN and is a guide on how to convert Witches to Catholocism.

CTS Mission Statement

The Catholic Truth Society works to develop and disseminate as widely as possible completely reliable publications about the faith, teaching and life of the Catholic Church. It is motivated by a love of Christ, a deep belief in the profound hope he brings to modern man, a love of and fidelity to the Church, and the desire to communicate these treasures both to the faithful and all other enquirers by way of inexpensive and accessible English language publications.

Also from the same group: "Lent: Learning to Love Like Jesus" which has such wonderful advice as

There is more to Easter than the first bite of chocolate, sip of wine or gasp of cigarette.
and
Finally, don’t aim too high!

Whooo boy, where do I start?

Actually, this isnt a rant. The pamphlet author gets a lot of things right. She's mostly wrong on how the Catholic Church can satisfy the needs of those who turn to Wicca.

“Modern Wicca’s origins lie in Victorian occultism,” she says (also finding room to mention the movement’s early links with Aleister Crowley). “Wiccans are encouraged to develop their own pantheon of gods and goddesses with whom they are comfortable to work – a religious ‘dream team’ … There are no limits to the creativity Wiccans can employ when creating their religious pantheons: it would not be uncommon to come across a Wiccan who worshipped Odin, Poseidon and the Buddhist Bodhisattva Kawn-Yin simultaneously.”

This is correct. What she fails to realize that every religion ever created started exactly the same way.

“Whether or not a Wiccan can successfully communicate with the dead or summon a spirit, whether spellwork is effective or not, has no bearing on the psychological damage that can be done to a young person who is convinced that they have summoned the dead, or have performed a spell that has hurt or injured another. Wicca has no hierarchy or support structure in place for these vulnerable young people … The use of magic, the practice of witchcraft, offends God because it is rooted in our sinful and fallen nature. It attempts to usurp God.”

This is only partly correct. Proper Wiccans (ie not the "fuzzy bunny" wiccan wannabes) do not teach thier children spellwork or encourage them to practice wicca. One can only embrace the craft as a willing adult. I also don't believe magic offends God. I am Wiccan and I believe in God. I honestly don't think he (usually) finds me nearly as offensive as most Catholics. Wiccan spells are simply prayer with a few toys and herbs. Wiccans themselves don't have powers. They simply feel they are connected directly with God, as they define him/her, and therefore ask directly. And that's why there is no heirarchy or structure. For Wiccans, religion is between a person and God. Period. No Wiccan has ever performed a spell that injured anybody. Believing they have is ridiculous. Wiccans practice two basic rules. 1)Do what you want as long as it doesn't hurt someone else and 2)Whatever you wish (pray, do spellwork) for comes back to you threefold. No true Wiccan would ever ask harm. ANd it has nothing whatsoever to do with communing with the dead. FFS Catholics have Saints! Jesus! Exorcism! Who communes with the dead? Catholics do. Belief in afterlife/ghosts/spirits has little to do with the brand of religion you practice. Ive dealt with people from every kind of culture and every kind of religion who claim contact with ghosts and spirits. Wiccans certainly do not have a monopoly!

One person commented:

Every week in terrible places called 'churches' horrible old men indoctrinate young children into cannibalistic activity. Young children are taught to drink things & eat things while being encouraged to believe they are drinking blood & eating flesh. True, that is not just a hideously disgusting activity, that is child abuse! But apparently ok because the pope says so.

Seriously. Take this bread and drink this wine. It is my body and my blood. That is the basis for all Christian Communion Ritual.

King James Bible 1 Corinthians 11:24

And when he had given thanks, he brake [it], and said, Take, eat: this is my body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of me.

And these folks have an issue with me burning some sage and lighting a candle when I ask God to intevene?

"Wiccans are on a genuine spiritual quest," providing "the starting point for dialog that may lead to their conversion."

Exactly right. But be aware that you may end up being converted to Wicca rather than converting the Witch to Catholocism LOL

I pledge allegiance

2010-12-28T14:53:00Z

Today is Dec 28, 2010 and the US Pledge of Allegiance was officially recognized by Congress 65 years ago today (according to Arcamax History and Quotes) . Not in 1776, not in the 1800's, but in the lifetime of our parents and grandparents. It was written in 1892 by Francis Bellamy (no direct relation to my husband, by the way). It has been modified four times. Yes, the Pledge you love so much and were taught as a child is NOT the original. Like the Bible, it was changed to reflect morals and values of the time. Have I offended you? Are you in denial that your Pledge and your Bible are not the original intent of the authors? Good. My goal is to make you think.

If your Bible and your Pledge do indeed say what you feel, then there is no issue here. I'm not asking you to change your faith or your allegiance. I'm only asking that you allow the same of others--that they be allowed to speak out against being force-fed YOUR beliefs.

Quite frankly, I've never had a muslim, buddhist, pagan, jew, or any other religion try to convert me other than Christians. I've never had any religion try to persecute me for my faith other than Christians. And there you have the basis for my ongoing issues with Christianity as a whole and specific sects.

I love God, my countries, my family, my earth. Make no mistake here; I am not without deep faith and love. There are occasionally folks I have to struggle to accept and to love, but I make the effort. Not just in my "politically correct-ness" but in my heart. Do you? Think before you answer that.

But I digress. Today is the day to celebrate the pledge. Here is the original Bellamy version:

I pledge allegiance to my Flag and the Republic for which it stands, one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Short and to the point. It is designed that way. No bullshit, easy to remember, clear in what it means. Personally, I think he did an excellent job.

In 1923, "my Flag" was changed to "the Flag of the United States of America" so as not to cause confusion for immigrants. Thoughtful perhaps, protectionist more likely, but still and acceptable Pledge for all Americans.

Enter the Jehovah's Witnesses. In 1940, there was an uproar from them claiming that forcing children to say the pledge in school was akin to practicing idolatry. They didn't call it being politically correct back then. In 1943, the Supreme Courty ruled in West Virginia State Board of Education v. Barnette that under the First Amendment, children could not be obliged to recite the pledge, and in later rulings said they didn't have to stand. See that? Obama had nothing to do with it! /sarcasm

Along the way, there was a salute change. Originally the salute was arm outstretched, palm down. That was changed to palm up because of the Nazi salute, then eventually to placing one's hand on one's heart. This idea came from President Franklin D Roosevelt and was later incorporated into the Flag Act of 1942 and expanded to include the National Anthem. So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the Act says you are supposed to put your hand over your heart for the Pledge AND the National Anthem. And by the way, the hat should come off, men. It's called respect.

OK back to the pledge. The words "Under God" were first used in 1948 by a Mr. Louis Bowman. He ad libbed it in to the pledge at meetings of the Sons of the American Revolution (like the DAR, only for guys). This is a fraternal organization based on lineage to our founding fathers. GHW Bush and his dad are both members, as is Jimmy Carter. Patten and Harding and MacArthur and even Winston Churchill were members, as were many US Presidents. Mr Bowman said he borrowed those words (under God) from Lincoln's Gettysburg Address (ahem, NOT the Declaration of Independence or Constitution or anything like that). Then the Catholics got involved. You remember them--those folks who made Christmas out of a Pagan holiday and changed the BIble all over the place and killed thousands in the Crusades, Ireland, and various other jihads. They also gifted us with the idea that socialism is wrong, but unions and minimum wage were right. Oh and that sex is for procreation, not pleasure. Catholics have a long history of telling people how to be.

So in 1951, the Catholic Church, through their fraternal organization the Knights of Columbus, began a drive to get Congress to amend the Pledge of Allegiance to include Bowman and Lincoln`s Under God. It was in 1954 that George MacPherson Docherty was finally able to make the case for the change. Docherty was a Presbyterian minister, born in Scotland (*gasp* you mean he wasn`t even American by birth?) and the minister at President Dwight D Eisenhower's church. Note here that Eisenhower (born in Texas) was originally a Jehovah's Witness and converted to Presbyterianism in a ceremony on Feb 1, 1953, just weeks after becoming President. It was almost exactly a year after his conversion that Rev. Docherty preached his "Under God" sermon to parishioners including Eisenhower. In another irony, it was Eisenhower who delivered many of the "socialist" programs the US now has, including expansion of Social Security and the Highway Development Act that built the Interstate system, officially known as the Dwight D. Eisenhower National System of Interstate and Defense Highways . He died in 1969 and was given an Episcopal funeral.

Back to the pledge; the modification was signed by Eisenhower of Flag Day in June 1954, and in an August letter now in archives. Eisenhower directly relates his support of the change to Docherty's 1953 sermon on the topic. There have been many legal challenges to the addition, and to other elements of the Pledge. Most notably, is the permanent ruling that one is not obligated to recite the pledge, nor to stand during it. This is considered appropriate under free speech. Most recently (March 2010) courts ruled that reciting the pledge in schools does NOT violate a child's freedom of religion, largely because they aren't required (by law) to recite it. The appellate court ruled that the words were of a "ceremonial and patriotic nature" and did not constitute an establishment of religion. This was cited again in a case in November of this year in Boston District Court for the State of New Hampshire, again allowing schools to provide and participate in reciting the pledge, but not to mandate student participation.

So there you have it. You don't have to say the pledge, no matter what your teacher says. You can stay seated and silent, or you can stand silently, or you can recite it without the words "under God". You can make it your own personal pledge, one that you can believe it, because our forefathers gave us the First Amendment right to do so, even if those forefathers didn't give us the Pledge. In Canada, one still has to pledge allegiance to the Queen and I have issues with that as I face applying for dual citizenship in 2011. But that's another blog entry entirely.

If you are feeling particularly patriotic, you might also enjoy The American's Creed, penned by William Tyler Page in 1917 and approved by Congress in 1918.

I believe in the United States of America, as a government of the people, by the people, for the people; whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed; a democracy in a republic; a sovereign Nation of many sovereign States; a perfect union, one and inseparable; established upon those principles of freedom, equality, justice, and humanity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes.

I therefore believe it is my duty to my country to love it, to support its Constitution, to obey its laws, to respect its flag, and to defend it against all enemies.

Or if you are looking for something religious, there's The (original) Lord's Prayer as written by the Catholic Church:

Our Father who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be thy name;
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
And forgive us our trespasses
As we forgive those who trespass against us;
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.

Or if you're a purist, in Latin:

PATER noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.

In any event, honor your country with patriotism and your God with faith; praise each from your heart and judge each in your own conviction. Use your intellect as well as your heart, and respect others' right to do the same.

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The Shrunken Head

2010-08-30T02:52:00Z

It seemed like a good idea at the time, honest.

My oldest graduated today from THE Ohio State University with a Bachelor's degree in Agricultural Science. Earlier this summer, she asked me to arrange a time when all of the family could get together for a meal to celebrate. Since most folks who were coming from out of town were not going to stay long, brunch prior to the 1pm commencement seemed to be the best idea.

Keeping in mind that I was in Toronto, Ontario and we were to brunch in Columbus, OH, I certainly had my work cut out for me. It paled in comparison to planning a wedding in Toronto from Ravenswood, WV so I figured I was up to the task. I wanted somewhere intimate and unusual, with a good reasonably priced breakfast/brunch. My first choice was quickly voted down by friends and family in Columbus--aparantly it was in a rather uncomfortable part of town, both in location relative to the university and with regard to safety.

Enter The Shrunken Head. Aparantly under new management, this was a nifty tiki bar that had a reputation for a fab brunch buffet on the weekends and outstanding coffee. I can tell you that although it was strong, the coffee did indeed taste good. There were mixed online reviews, but the negative ones seemed to come from staff who had worked there under the previous owner who had a bit of a grudge against the new owners. In retrospect, I should have given them more credit.

So in July 2010 I emailed The Shrunken Head and inquired about thier hosting a brunch for 14 at 10am prior to the OSU grad on August 29, 2010. I figured 6 weeks was plenty of time. I recieved a lovely email in return, welcoming us and assuring me that that would be no problem. I was happy, and looking forward to good food and a good visit in an interesting setting. I followed up a week prior, just to make sure there were no issues, and had only a moments consternation when the person on the phone had no idea what I was talking about..".party of 14? When? Well that won't be a problem, although I don't know anything about it...I'm only the bartender so I wouldn't really know about those things." Mind was at ease.

This morning at 10am, which was when they were set to open, 13 people showed up hungry and happy. Forty five minutes later we had a grad in tears and a grandpa headed toward a diabetic coma.

At 10:05 I pulled on the door and it was unlocked so we went in. When I saw someone, he asked how we had gotten in. When I told him the front door was unlocked, he was surprised. He told us we could "sit anywhere" so we moved 5 small round tables together and got settled in. There was banter about how we were actually an unlocky 13 rather than 14--laughed off. There was a punching bag in the ladies room--more giggles--and now we know why it is there. It's because The Shrunken Head will make you want to punch someone.

Dirty glasses on the stage aside, we still weren't that put off. No buffet setup was in evidence, but ok, we're flexible, bring it. The "waiter" --and I use that term very loosely-- finally came over at about 10:25. He explained that there weren't "enough" menus (we never saw even one) so he ran down a short list of normal breakfast fare for us to remember and think on, took our drink orders, and promptly disappeared. A few more people wandered in, sat down, ordered and recieved their drinks. We finally got all of our drinks at about 10:40am. Remember, we had reservations, got there promptly, and had a grad who needed to be done by 11:45am at the very latest so she could line up for the 1pm start time. Grandpa needed to eat something before his insulin issues flared. Three children under 10 were hot and hungry (if there is air conditioning in this place, it is minimal at best and the day was headed to better than 90F) Our grad had reached her limit--heaven knows she was stressed out enough beforehand, not to mention tired and a tad hung over from party time the night before--so waiting 40 minutes for a coke, three milks, two coffees, three OJ's and some water with wilted lemon. We decided to try for the Bob Evans up the street and when the "waiter" came back to take our order we advised him we were leaving. Our grad offered to pay for the drinks served--I fought her for the priveledge, but she was angry and frustrated and would not hear of me paying for the drinks.

To thier credit, they did not charge us for the drinks.

We left at 1045am, and by 1145 we were not only seated and served at Bob Evans, but we had actually finished our meal and were paying checks. We surprised them with a large party, so we were not able to be seated together, but they performed magic and satisfied us mightily. They even apologized for not being able to seat us together. Our grad made it to the center, Grandpa didn't keel over, and we lasted through the three and a half hour ceremony still fully satisfied from our ample breakfast/brunch.

Lessons learned? Let someone local find the place to meet and eat, not someone in another country. Believe negative comments about an eating establishment. Don't expect a buffet in a bar, even if it is advertised and confirmed by management. Carry mints for the elderly. And in the name of all that's holy, stay away from The Shrunken Head.

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A bit of an update

2010-08-09T20:47:00Z

Yeah I know. I never update here. Well he ya go, nagging fans...

The Marietta Memories post continues to generate comments and contact. If my professional papers got this much read time I'd be THRILLED~but actually I am quite happy that so many people have come back into my life.

Just finished a weekend in the PSICAN booth at the Guild Inn Alive with Culture. We had our usual great time but we had a LOT more people stop by and chat about the paranormal. It's always good to hear people tell thier stories--not only for my own interest but also as input for our database. I welcome anyone who has a personal experience with something they think could be paranormal to contact me at robin@triedit.net

Finished all the tapings of Freak Encounters, have done magazine, radio, newspaper and consultation interviews more than I can count so far in 2010. And Im just heading into what is generally my busy season--September through November. Not only do I teach through that period, but media always wants time around Halloween. Heaven forbid they should do a story in, oh say, JANUARY when I have a litle more time.

Speaking of January (2011) Im probably going to take a bit of a sabbatical from PSICAN. I have a book Ive been putting off getting onto paper, and Im going to miss a good market window if I don't get it done soon. I will still continue limited media appearances and my own casework, but PSICAN is going to have to do without me for a few months. I think they can handle it LOL

Genealogy class starts September 23, so if you are wanting to enroll call or go online to the TDSB Adult Education folks (for my nonlocal readers, that's Toronto District School Board) and get signed up. Ghost class is in November this year so you have a little more time to sign up for that. Not sure yet where we are going. If you have ideas or requests drop me a note.

So...well that's it for now. Been having increased pain (maybe overdoing it a tad...) lately and am moving slowly and thinking through a fog.

Keep in touch!

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Where'd my entry go?

2010-05-03T15:02:00Z

Oh for Pete's sake. I just wrote all about all the really cool things Im doing and it disappeared.

Maybe it will show up. If not, I'll be back! Muhahahaha

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Busy Spring!

2010-05-03T14:59:00Z

I'm currently trying desperately to get organized and get motiviated. Im off in a couple of days for a long weekend roadtrip with my friend Tere, then Im home three days then off for a weekend conference. Im doing three speeches at the conference and I ALMOST have my powerpoints done....can't seem to get on that. For more information on the conference see www.ghostsconference.com It looks to be an amazing good time!

Then on weekend three, my boys are off to see Baba and Papa for a few days in Saskatoon. Maybe (and that's a big maybe) I can get caught up then, but Im trying to get to Ohio to bring back the bunk bed and hope chest my grandmother left me. Finding a small truck for crossing the border is a real challenge.

Things don't much calm down after that. Ravenswood High reunion June 12th ish, Marietta in July, visit from my friends Paul, Steph and Suzie in July, the boys' annual trek west at the end of the month, then Paranormal season starts! Im already booked pretty good for October and it's only just the first part of May.

Tomorrow I get my MRI results, which may throw a wrench in the works, but we'll see. In the meantime look for me just about everywhere. I just filmed three episodes of an entertaining little show called Freak Encounters that debuts in the fall. Today's email had another radio invitiation, and you

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Mark Bower

2010-01-03T04:01:00Z

So I set myself up and didnt even realize it.

Today I took myself to the movies and saw "Brothers". It's an ok movie and if I were any sort of a normal person I probably would have enjoyed it.

I was in tears almost immediately. *spoiler alert* Bascially the premise is that the husband is a Marine and deploys and the wife sort of starts a relationship with the brother. Brother is just out of prison and tries to make his life better by helping out the deployed brothers wife. I knew that going in. It's eerily close to my own experience in that when my ex was deployed his brother moved in with me and things got a little out of hand.

In the movie, the USMC brother is presumed dead. In my life it was just a deployment, so I didnt have "grounds" by any means. OK so that's why I went to see the movie. I was prepared for the good son/bad son routine. I was prepared for the family dynamic including the children.

What I was NOT prepared for was how it ripped out my heart and brought back so much of Mark Bower. And just to put salt in the wound, I came home and re-read all of his letters.

Mark and I met via a singles ad I placed as a joke. I was just weeks away from my divorce being final, starting to get my dating legs, and was raising my two girls as a single mom. Mark was a Corporal in the Marines, divorced with a son of his own, and gunshy around potential relationships. We wrote letters for a bit, then a friend took me out on the town and unbeknownst to me she had set it up with Mark to meet us. This was the first face to face meeting we had. I was sitting at the bar having a drink and I looked up and saw this man walk in (I saw him in the mirror). It sound corny, but time stopped. Nothing else existed. Our eyes met in the mirror and it was soooo perfect. When I found out that guy was Mark I could not have been happier. Mark was the single most gorgeous man I have ever seen. And he totally was not aware of it.

So things progressed and he basically moved in with us. We were so in love. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life. We also got a wonderful dog, Dusty. That dog so rocked.

Then a couple of months later he deployed suddenly to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba during the "Hatian Refugee Crisis" of 1994. We continued to write to each other every day, although the mail was really slow. When the letters came it was such a thrill. They were so full of love.

Bu June 15, 1994, he was on the Russian Ship MS Ivan Franko.

Previously they had been aboard a Ukranian Cruise Ship Gruzia which had beenone of the ships the Russians left Cuba on in the 1960's

Letters from Mark were largely about how bored he was on the ship and a smattering of what they were being told was going on politically.

He proposed to me in a letter dated June 10, 1994. I cried like a baby. I knew it was a HUGE step for him--for both of us--because o the divorce issues. But I was totally ready. I loved Mark Bower beyond all reason. I must have been curt with him in letters though, as he always seems (upon reread) to be trying to explain something to me. I know memory is selective. I only remember that I ached for him and was so worried. I sincerely hope I didnt make the deployment more difficult. In retrospect, I totally wish he would never have left me with his car, bank card, and power of attorney. I'm totally sure I abused the priveledge. Although I can honestly say, without a doubt, that with the exception of my current husband, Mark Bower was the only man I never cheated on. I've never been good with money, but I was completely loyal to him otherwise.

Things started to change toward the end of July. The stress was getting to him and he started getting cold feet about getting married. Then in the next letter, first part of August, he was talking again about moving to WV and maybe getting a job as a state trooper. But the stress continued. The Marines lived in tents while the Air Force had air conditioned trailers. Nobody knew when or if the whole thing would ever be over. The Haitians rioted several times per week. The IRS was taking his pay. The State of NC had issued a warrant because he did not show up for a Fishing Ticket (he was deployed). The stress was really there and I ignored it. I just kept pressuring him about why he didnt want to get married. I was a fool. He wanted to get everything taken care of so we could start a life together free and clear and I felt like he was shutting me off, not letting me help him as a partner. He wanted me to move back home to WV and I wanted to be as close to his life as possible.

By September the letters were just the front and back of one page, and coming only every couple of weeks. At that point he believed he would be back in December, check out of the Corps, and come meet me in WV.. The letters stop there. I have no recollection of that time frame whatsoever. My ex had gotten me charged with embezzlement of Girl Scount Cookie money and court was approaching. I went to court and was served with custody papers. October and November were a nightmare. I did move back to WV in December 1994, get a job, set up housekeeping. I returned to NC for court and to pick Mark up and take him back with me and he wasn't there. He had gotten his release from the Marines and was gone.

Also in the bundle of letters was a note from his ex-wife. I had sent a Birthday present to thier son, sort of as an introduction. Erica wrote back that Mark had told everyone we were not seriously involved. It was a lovely letter really. Very supportive of my relationship with Mark (if it existed) and open to Mark writing to Stefan and starting a regular dialogue. The letter is addressed to my West Virginia address, so I had to have been in WV by then. I remember sending the gift but for the life of me I don't remember getting that letter.

All this was brought back to me today in one segment of the movie. The Marine is destroying the kitchen and screams to his wife that she doesn't understand what his hands are capable of doing. Mark had said almost exactly the same thing to me when he returned from Gitmo. There had been an incident there that had left it's mark on him. He was clearly traumatized.

The timing is all very confusing in my memory. Aside from that one discussion in the previous paragraph, I don't recall seeing him after the deployment. It's as if he just disappeared.

Which actually he did. I heard from him briefly in March 1995-he wanted to come back. I said of course! Then I heard nothing again. Then he called wanting to know if he could bring his brother with him. I agreed--hell I would have driven to New York myself and picked up the whole damn family if it would have brought Mark back to me. I never heard from him again.

My oldest daughter doesn't seem to have any issues with the loss of that relationship. My second daughter and I still very much do. A few years ago I put an ad online trying to find him. I got a few back and forth emails from someone claiming to know him and that he was in Texas. None of that is terribly trustworthy but then I have no reason to disbelieve it either.

I'd love to talk with him. I desperately need closure. Ive moved on, and have a wonderful husband and a young son now and I wouldnt trade either of them for anything--not even for Mark. But I havent even heard his voice in 15 years and the pain is still so raw, and so deep. I'm not angry. I know things happen. I guess I just need to know that whatever happened wasn't my fault and that he did, for a time at least, really love me.

I probably will never get that closure. I likely will still do the occasional internet search (do you know how very many Mark Bower's there are in the world? LOL) and wonder.

But above all else, I wish him love.

Somewhere I have a photo of us together. When I find it, I'll add it here.

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A Skeptical Review of Skeptic Magazine

2009-08-08T00:25:00Z

Much discussion of the meaning of “skeptic” and those who call themselves such has been afoot of late. I am a practicing skeptic—meaning that when I do an investigation I make no assumptions. In that vein, I am an avid reader of such magazines as Scientific American, Air & Space, Psychology Today, Popular Science, History, Archaelogy, Prehistoric Times, Family Tree, Skeptical Inquirer, and a host of others. I recently picked up Volume 15, Number 1 of Skeptic Magazine, which is put out by skeptic.com and the Skeptics Society. What follows are my opinions of the magazine in general and this edition specifically.

The subtitle of the magazine is at first encouraging; it reads “Extraodinary Claims, Revolutionary Ideas & the Promotion of Science. What could be better for those of us who spend much of our energy on just those topics!? The cover story is titled “The Greatest Story Ever Garbled” and refers to part one of the Internet film Zeitgeist. I always read the cover stories first and this particular article, written by Tim Callahan, did not disappoint. Mr Callahan is a contributing editor for the magazine and spends several pages discussing the flaws of the film as it relates to what I call “the possibility of Christ”. Callahan's discussion of the cross and its possible astrological connection is nothing less than, pardon the pun, stellar. I learned a great deal about the origins of several religions, and about several versions of Christianity. These were handled with respect and I appreciated that. At no time did Mr Callahan insult Christians. That was refreshing in a critical discussion regarding any organized religion. He was not complimentary about Peter Joseph's film, but his displeasure was voiced regarding mostly the lack of solid research that should have been done before the film was made. To say that I was so far pleased with this magazine would have been an understatement.

Then I went to the beginning of the magazine and was immediately compelled to whip out my pen and make margin notes. That is what brought me to doing this opinion piece. For those of you who know me, that is never a good sign. My margin notes rarely consist of things like “Right on!” or “You go!”

The first thing that struck me about Skeptic is the enormous amount of self promotion. All media requires advertising—it wasn't the volume of advertising that bothered me. It was that the bulk of the advertising is intent on selling the reader more things written by those associated by Skeptic Magazine. There are books, dvds, lectures on tape, virtually all things SM related. And that SM means Skeptic Magazine, not necessarily Sadomasochism. There are eleven pages (full pages) of things to buy for and from SM. That does not even include those ads on the sides and bottoms of article pages. The “score” for this magazine now sits at 1-1: One for a wow article and one for too much self aggrandizement.

In the front of the magazine is a page about what The Skeptics Society does and how to be a member. Most of what they claim to do is terrific, or a least ok. Lectures, conferences, events, speakers bureaus, website, telephone referral service for those looking for skeptics all sound like worthwhile endeavors. They also claim to conduct scientific research. We could be colleagues! Maybe I should join! But on the next page is an article called “What is a Skeptic?” It starts well...they discount the widely held view that they are grumpy curmudgeons who seek to debunk. I have completely embraced a quote from this page--”skepticism is a method, not a position”. In the margin, I have written my first “Right On!” I am quickly deflated, however, by a line just beyond that that says they have an attitude of “that's nice, prove it” when it comes to “fantastic claims”. I find this disheartening. To immediately ask for “proof” of ANY claim, whether fantastic or not, is really off-putting. Do these skeptics exist only for some sort of proof? It does make me think though. Why DO skeptics exist? If skepticism is indeed a method instead of a position, why is there a society and why is there a magazine? The real question then becomes, for me, “does this magazine promote skeptic methodology?”

In my opinion, the short answer is “no”. An article by the “amazing” James Randi seeks to completely debunk the idea that the ability to walk on hot coals is phenomenal. While his comments are technically correct—he explains the way it works, the way spirituality affects some who “fire walk”, and discusses his own experience with skin to heat, he seems to discount that it is in fact, phenomenal. He seems to believe it is quite normal and natural for someone, under the same circumstances, to walk across hot coals without experiencing pain or tissue damage. While scientifically the ability to do this is not, in fact, phenomenal, the HUMAN ability and willingness is certainly such. I'm left feeling that for Randi, anything that can be scientifically explained is not extraordinary--that humanity must be disregarded in order for a skeptical view. The very next article discusses the recent Morristown, NJ UFO hoax and concludes that, for the authors at least and by association for the magazine, if one UFO event can be hoaxed well enough to fool professional investigators then the validity of every other UFO case/investigation must be questioned. Not only is that, in my opinion, unfair, but the reality is that every UFO report investigated by professional researchers has already has its validity questioned. That is, quite simply, what we do when we investigate to begin with. Having one hoax get by a few professionals (and no, Morristown did not get the “real” stamp from all of us) should never give cause to invalidate all other investigations.

Moving on we find a disjointed article on the concept of “Orgone”, the idea that an energy exists that when manipulated can alter the effects of electricity, disease, and many other things. Mr. Kaiser does present his scientific experiments that certainly seem to show that “orgone” is a ridiculous idea. He is unable to duplicate claims made by others and challenges the reader to try it as well, knowing full well (he says) that the reader's outcome would be the same-when done as he did it. Well frankly that is a no brainer. If his way didn't work it makes sense that repeating it his way isn't going to work. What Mr Kaiser does not consider, however, is that somewhere, somehow, someone may be able to show that this idea of an unseen energy can in fact alter what it some claim it alters. Wouldn't a skeptic have done the experiment and simply said, “well it didn't work for me” and left it at that? Would a true skeptic have proclaimed it's never going to work for anyone? Don't even get me started on Scott Calvin and his article entitled “Crazy Ideas 101” wherein he says basically that no educated person could possibly believe in the Loch Ness Monster. Technically, the article is about teaching critical thinking. Unfortunately Mr Calvin, like his colleague James Randi, conveniently forgets that science as we know it and critical thinking as practiced do not necessarily exclude the possibility of such seemingly unprovable events.

Don't misunderstand, there were several really good ideas and written pieces in this magazine. Certainly it has value, and certainly I would recommend it as worthwhile reading. If there is such a word as “skepticity” I'm not sure this magazine has much of it. I would think that a skeptic would not be one one who makes claims and some in this magazine certainly make them. I would even call some of the claims extraordinary. It also discusses some revolutionary ideas, even if few of them come from the authors. There is also the promotion of science, as they view the concept of science. I can't agree that there is much skeptical method so much as methods and ideology intent on some sort of proof, usually of the debunking kind.

The bottom line, literally, is that when it comes to Skeptic Magazine, I'm sitting on the fence.

Robin Bellamy

August 2009

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Marietta Memories--high school

2009-08-06T06:11:00Z

Today I recieved a copy of the 1979 Orion. The Orion is the yearbook for Marietta Senior High School in Marietta, Ohio.

My mother, my sister, and I moved to Knox Street in Marietta in 1978. I had lived in Ravenswood, WV most of my life to that point, having lived in nearby Parkersburg WV for only one year--the rest was all spent in various homes in Ravenswood. My father was born in Ravenswood, and both his father and mother were born very near there. In fact, thier parents were born in Jackson County as well. Ravenswood was, and always will be, home.

When my parents divorced, my mother decided she needed to get more formal education and after attending a community college in Parkersburg for awhile, she transferred to Marietta College. This was the basis for our move. To say I was devestated would be an understatement. I had just finished my Sophomore year at RHS and having only two more to go couldn't believe my mother was uprooting me. I held a deep resentment for that for decades. Although I understand why she did it, and realistically it was the best choice, Im not sure it really was what was best for me.

I never felt that I fit in in Marietta. I had a steady boyfriend and plenty of things to do socially, but I was not happy there. The school was huge, and I had to ride a bus to get there. And if I missed the bus, I walked. It was a LONG walk. I also had a lot of responsibility for my baby sister who was I would guess about 7 when we made the move. We were exceedingly poor. Now that I have raised my own children, much of the time a poor single mother in my own right, I sure as heck don't know how Mom pulled it off. I added to her burden by dating a guy who was quite active in DeMolay which meant there were LOTS of formal dances to attend. And I was reaching the age of proms as well.

I worked hard most of my life to forget about Marietta whenever possible. But a couple of years ago I remembered a friend named Paul Evans and what an amazing writer he was. I searched on Amazon.com to see if he was published and instead found his "wish list" of books he would like to own. It did provide me with contact information and we have since reestablished our friendship. He has shared his wife and daughter with me as well and it is a friendship I cherish.

It has opened a flood of memories. I had casual contact with a few friends from Marietta in the late 90's when I first got on the internet, but contact was lost as I was never very keen on remembering. Then in May 2007 I had a car wreck that has caused me to lose considerably more memory. Through some of Paul's facebook contacts I began to reconnect with other Marietta Alumni and now have several people I keep track of online.

Funny that, because I never ever would have believed these people remembered me, let alone fondly enough to allow me to keep contact. I had a handful of friends--mostly friends of my boyfriend Rick Broker--but never felt like I had more than two or three friends of my own.

So now I sit with the Orion '79, leafing through and remembering. I'm putting some of those memories here, and eventually will be scanning some photos for my online collection.

One of the first memories I have of MSHS is of being in the band. I played flute for years in Ravenswood--sat first or second chair most of the time. But the band directors in Marietta made it clear another flute player was not needed or wanted. So I played xylophone. In a marching band. That lasted through band camp. The instrument was so heavy and it was so hot that I couldnt handle it. So much for band. I quit right away (I think!)

I remember the Jr Class play "A Chorus Line"--or maybe I remember doing a group song and dance routine for the Talent Show. I remember wearing tights and a body suit and feeling SO huge. I'd kill to be that thin now. I do remember Rick Broker playing guitar and Marvin Becker on piano while Beth North sang in the talent show. And I remember Julie Huck and her tricycle "Greased Lightening". The page of the yearbook with those memories also included a photo of Eric Krivchenia. I remember him being a nice guy with a great sense of humor.

There are lots of photos of people I remember fondly, but seriously doubt (or doubted until recently) that they remember(ed) me. Pat Moening. I'd love to know what happened to him. Unni Sorenson was so nice--she was an exchange student from Norway. I didnt know her well but I do remember her. Dave Clegg, master magician and star of local commercials. Scott Boyer--what a genius and comedian! I remember thinking Seinfeld reminded me of someone and now I realize it was Scott Boyer. Betsy Blair I didnt know (I don't think) but she was soooo pretty. There were lots of really pretty girls at Marietta. Holly Hobensack, Tracy Holdren, Leigh Hollins, Jane Kelso, Cindy Lilly, Lori Metz, Allison Mills, Kathryn Murtha, Maru Anne Pioli, Mary Simmons, Cindy Thrash, Laren Yeager, Stacey Bike, Robin Ross, Karen Bergen, Lori Beulow (pretty then, but in all honesty prettier now), Beth Cassidy, Merilyn Clapsaddle, Paige Flemming, Brenda Forshey, Melody Garwood, Ellen Gilde, Kathleen Kingma, Teresa Malone, Sherry Miller, Peggy Pickering, Tawni Powers, Jane Summers, Carol Barry, Joy Guckert, Marci Samples

Others I remember being nice but no knowing well...Jeff Farrell, Pete Gammon, Lisa George (maybe I knew her fairly well though, I think she was Tom's sister), Andreas Kolshorn--wow was he brilliant--still is!, Debbie McCormick, Tom Modie, Pete Palmer and Pete Pannier, Regina Stewart, Cathy Waters, Tom Welch, Mark Wurtzbacher, Steve Curtis, Barb Russell, John Goettge, Adam Able, Kurt Albright, Teresa Augustein, Greg Barth, Jackie Bedilion, Kelly Berga, Kathy Best, Tina Bett, Chris Conrad, Doug Deeds, Randy Gibson, Ricky Gupta, Ron Hazelton, Barb Hune, Rob McGrew, Jana Miller, Teresa Modecki, Jeannie Mulato, Julie Newman, Lynn Omentanski, Penny O'Neill, Polly Pannier, Chris Palmer, Mark Russi, Tom Stafford, Cindy Stewart, Frank Tacy, Mark Venham, Jill Framptin, Jon Hartlage, Robin Kigma, John Walsh, Colleen Crosby, Nancy Haas

Rick Broker, Scott Christy, Michelle Torpy , Sue Spicer, Ben Sauer, Cy Jobes, Marvin Becker, Jill Lewis (she was my neighber and I adored her and her brother Jeff Fink), Brenda Bom, Dave Clegg, Tom George, Heather Herdman, Wendi Patterson, Jill McConkey, Beth North, Steve Scharff--I remember these being my closest friends.

Some of those folks could be on a couple of lists!

I remember Debate Club but had forgotten who all was in that club. Was surprised to see the names--some were people I thought I remembered as so far out of my social league as to not ever have spoken with them. One of them, Jay Prescher, I chatted with on Facebook just today. I remember when he approved me as his facebook friend I thought "Wow! Jay Prescher remembers me!". Now thanks to the photos and the yearbook I also remember he was in DeMolay and Debate!

Some of the staff I remember. Jane Crandall I have always remembered with deep affection. She was a huge part of making me who I am today. Same with Mrs Hollins, the debate coach. Probably the two most important adults for me during that time of my life. Mrs Crandall made me think. Mrs Hollins made me brave. I remember Mr Hahn, the drivers ed teacher. I also remember sneaking orange vodka drinks at my locker then going driving! Mr Kimball, band. Mr Leclair, although I don't know why I remember him or what for. I remember a probability and statistics class from hell, but I liked the teacher. All I remember was that he was male (Mr Miller maybe?), but I do know he and the physics teacher (Mr Schrider) really pushed my boundaries educationally. Mary Lou Moegling, the librarian. I wish now I would have respected her more.

There are pictures there of things I still don't remember. Like I don't remember Wendi Patterson playing basketball. I don't remember Baskin Robbins being in Marietta. I don't remember Congeltons Cafeteria or Burger Chef.

I remember going to some classes at Marietta College while still attending high school.

I remember going to the funeral of someone who died in a motorcycle accident but I can't remember who--I remember it was a boy and that's it. Might have been 1981.

I remember going dancing somewhere along the river in Parkersburg. I remember HATING anyone from Williamstown, WV

I went to a year of college at Otterbein, then returned to the area and was a dj at 95xil (Robin Layne--bet most of you Marietta people didn't know that) and dating Brian Hadley even though I didn't know him in High School. 1981-82 was a rough year. I was big into drugs in early 1982. Then married a marine from Parkersburg and left for many years....

I was sad when Marvin Becker died. He was a good guy. In the years before he died my Mom got to know him a bit--they both lived in Columbus. He played piano at my first wedding.

If someone knows where I can get a 1980 yearbook that would be awesome. Also if anyone can fill me in on who it was that died in the motorcyce wreck that would be much appreciated too.

And if I've left you out or we were closer than I remember, please don't hesitate to remind me. Im so grateful for the opportunity to get to know my Marietta classmates now. You guys have become great adults! I might even consider coming to a reunion. If I do I'll bring my yearbook to get signed!

Robin

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Wesite updates

2009-08-01T19:19:00Z

Great news! We're off to a great start with the new website. Thanks to dear dave in Amsterdam, the template is in and im starting to add content.

Right now, and probably for quite some time to come, visit the new site via this link.

http://www.piattresearchers.net/joomla

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