I slept LAST night!

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I only made it 'til six pm. I was nodding off from the minute I got home.

So, I grabbed Mugwart, my old man cat, turned on the outdoor lights for the night, and curled up in bed.

I'm still in a good deal of pain, but I'm rested.

I woke at about four this morning and put on the coffee.

I'm going in. Primarily, I'm going in to pack food, notebooks, etc. to bring home.

....and to collect eggs, of course.

I figured out how to catch some baby ducks.

I have an old badmidon net. I can stand over the bridge, net in the water, and just wait for them to pass over it.

The University would only have Animal Control capture extra ducks, anyway.

I'll have to be sneaky and do it early on a weekend morning. I mean EARLY, just after sun rise.

Looks like I'll need to buy a kids' wading pool this year for them.

I get plenty of vegetables, bread, pasta, etc from Food Not Bombs to feed a substantial flock these days.

But I'm thinking three ducks would be plenty.

That way, I'd end up with a hen, and eggs. Which is the reason I want ducks.

Besides the fact that ducks are just about the most cheerful, domestic birds in the world.

Training Porkchop to respect ducks is going to be a job.

I'm a little worried about Chaco, too: he can easily kill and eat a pigeon.

But, once they're inside and get treated by me like anybody else living here, I think the animals will get the idea.

I've certainly raised fowl around cats and dogs, before.

We'll see what happens.

I'm hoping to garden this weekend. That's the plan, anyway. If I sneak out really early, before collecting eggs, I can do some watering. I feel like a criminal, trying to water without being caught.

I have permission to water, don't get me wrong. It's why I chose this dump: so I could garden.

It's those foul-mouthed, criminal junkies he rents to; they HATE me and fear me and gossip about me and blame me for their pathetic lives. They have roaches, because they don't: keep their places clean, pull weeds by their apartments or cover their drains. So, they blame my garden for their roaches.

I don't have roaches. I have cats. I pull weeds and cover my drains. I throw trash in COVERED containers and DISPOSE of it! What a CONCEPT!

THe only time I see a roach on my place, it snuck in under the front gate from the rest of the bldg., and is lying on its back, dead, 'cause one of my critters was playing roach hockey with it.

So, I'll see what kinds of damage I can do around here, cleaning and gardening.

I'm pretty tired, so I'd best take it easy, so I can cook on Sunday.

If I do catch some ducklings, I'll need to stay home more next week, so they'll imprint on me. They'll need to know I'm the Mommy.

Ducks'll follow you anywhere. It'll be a challenge, leaving on the scooter, without a flock of ducks, flying behind me.

I'd rather not trim their flight feathers. Escape is a duck's only defense.

I think I'll just catch as many as I can, bring them home, keep and eye on them, and release any that I don't need, back into the pond.

And duck poop makes GREAT fertilizer!

...and talk about not having roaches! HAH! My neighbors in the War Zone used to borrow my ducks and chickens to run around THEIR yards to eat bugs!

....still wish I had me a rib eye steak...

I wish...

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I wish I could take a warm bubble bath.

I wish I had some beer or marguritas.

I wish I had a thick, rib eye steak with all the fixin's.

I wish I had shoes that didn't leave me foot sore at the end of the day.

I wish I had a friend.

I wish I had a hug.

I wish I had a little security and peace.

I wish I were stronger.

I wish I knew what I was doing.

I wish GW Bush hadn't stolen that election.

I wish women's work and work without pay were respected.

I wish women were respected.

I wish we weren't all so damned nasty to each other.

I wish my daughter were alive.

I wish I hadn't had to drop out of school.

I wish we all got a second chance.

I wish sugar was good for you.

I wish chocolate wasn't made by child slaves.

I wish I wasn't contributing, every day, to the rape of Mother Earth.

I wish scooter inner tubes were thicker and cheaper.

I wish I could go back to Sequoia National Park.

I wish I could get to the ocean.

I wish Albuquerque city streets were better paved, smoother and cleaner.

I wish I had the last twenty years to do over.

I wish I had a lemon merangue pie.

I wish I had a crab Louie.

I wish I had a turn table, for my records.

I wish I weren't in danger, most of the time.

I wish I lived in a real house.

I wish Porkchop would lick the bottoms of my feet, like Boo used to do.

I wish flies had better manners.

I wish I could have caught a couple of baby ducks today.

I wish this pain would ease.

I wish tv commercials weren't louder than the programs.

I wish I had help.

I wish I had love.

I wish I weren't so damned tired all the time.

I wish I could see Van Gogh's "Sunflowers," in person, one more time, before I die.

I wish I'd been friends with Carl Sagan.

I wish the loves of my life still loved me back.

I wish my flute wasn't in such bad shape.

I wish I knew enough people well enough that I could have a party.

I wish the computer screens at KUNM were easier to see.

I wish I'd never left California.

I wish Woo, my Siamese cat brother, who died when I was thirteen, were still alive and healthy.

I wish I'd never known what it feels like to be punched in the face.

I wish I could find the Secret to not being excluded.

I wish someone would hold me, while I cry.

I feel like a total loser.

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I read over the email from FSRN at the station today.

I freaked.

I had to just about do everything over, except my interviews, and even those were moved around, shortened, etc.

I had hell to pay, trying to adjust sound levels.

Since that other tooth broke, my voice sounds different. I couldn't splice new voice into old; I had to rerecord my script.

I sent an email, after submitting everything again: new audio, new script, new lead in. The email asked, "should I submit an invoice tomorrow?"

Fridays are the deadline for the week to get stuff into the book keeper. She cuts checks Mondays, and I didn't get the last one 'til the following Friday.

Well, I got back a reply: I can't submit an invoice 'til the story airs. And it's already a week and a half old!

So, I get to sit on pins and needles, worrying whether they'll air it. I won't know; I can't hear them from here. I'll have to check their web site, every day.

IF they air it NEXT week, I won't get paid for two more weeks yet.

My legs are killing me. The office furniture is ruining them. Shoulders, too.

I'm utterly exhausted.

The good news is Renee really did call someone about getting me some help.

The REALLY good news is that, somehow, despite my pilferring and the Bastard Gardener raiding nests, SOMEHOW, a mother duck hatched a batch of chicks! They were all over the pond this morning: nearly ten of them, little mallards, from what appears to be a wild pair.

Life will abide.

I'm glad I watered at three o'clock this morning; it's hot and dry and everything would've died by Monday, the next time I can water with a hose.

I have a forty gallon trash barrel out there, covered and full of water. That's so I can freshen up the seeds I planted. But the big beds would not have made it 4 more days without water.

I'm so sad. I'm so discouraged. I could've made more money, giving b.j.s in the seven/eleven parking lot, and saved myself the damn stress! Probably could have made that in one night, too.

I never resorted to prostitution, or drug dealing. But I've been seriously tempted in the past.

Now, I'm too ugly to whore and too slow to deal.

More limitations to my career options. Just what I needed.

I feel bitter, hollow and wrung out.

I have been giving my absolute best, and I feel it's thrown back in my face as though it were common trash.

I'm sick of being brave, silent, patient, hard working. I want to SCREAM!

Those people think I'm loud now? They should only see how I go off when I'm at my complete limit!

And, with physical exhaustion and being totally broke and stressed out, I'm JUST about ready to blow!

I told Renee that. I told her I needed to leave, right then. Without packing my lunch stuff up or my interview notes/audio...nothing.

I just put on my shoes, grabbed my bag, locked the drawer I swiped without permission, and got the hell OUT of there.

I'm just about ready to lose it.

What ELSE must I do for a hundred sixty dollars???????

worries, part two

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another thing that worries me. I thought of it the minute Renee said I'll have assigned hours for that computer.

I don't have relaiable transportation. I'm not sure I can commit to working int the Rogi Ghetto during the time allowed.

Worries

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Somebody was just lurking, outside my back gate. Porkchop started barking. That's why I'm awake at two in the morning, and probably won't go back to sleep. I don't want to oversleep and miss my chances at duck eggs and space at KUNM.

Here are my worries.

My stories are disappearing into unretrievable internet archives. When I search the News Dept. web page for "rogi" or "riverstone" or "scooter" or whatever the subject of my pieces, I'm getting no search results.

I can't remember what weeks those stories ran; everything's archived by week; I'll have to go through every week, from the time I started there. And I don't even remember that, so I'll have to ask Rachel.

There is NOBODY to post news on the internet right now. Leslie threw a photocopy of some sort of directions at me, but I can't make any sense of them. And she's out sick.

So, the web site is languishing. Nothing's been posted since the end of last week, when the work study student stopped working.

So, all my hard work is disappearing, before I get a chance to preserve it.

This includes the nukes story, which I was told was worthy of an award.

But nobody cares. I asked Marcos for help, but it's not his job. He knows HOW, though. Renee doesn't know how. And it's HER job. So, I'm getting a lot of shrugs, like it doesn't matter.

But it DOES matter. Most of the people who read my blogs -- in fact, most of the people who know me, at ALL -- can only access me by internet. I don't HAVE any friends in real time! The ONLY way my associates can access my work is via internet.

People at the station are much more real time than I. They don't understand.

So, if a person looked at the KUNM web site, under "news," they'd think we didn't HAVE any news this week.

Now, just about everybody else in the news dept. works for money. I work for nothing. But I've been doing it to "prove" I'm employable as a writer, as a journalist.

How can I prove anything, if nobody keeps up the web site? We're talking about SOUND, not print! The ONLY way I can put it into a resume or portfolio is via internet.

So, I'm getting screwed, nobody cares, I'm "bothering people," trying to fix it, my work is getting lost forever, and I can't do a damn thing about it!

I'm also getting jerked around about getting hired. First, I can be hired; then, I can't. Then, I'm told they don't know if they WANT to hire me. Then, maybe there will be room in the July budget....

When people are assigned stories, there's often discussion of the stories by reporters. They offer advice, background, etc.

Renee assigned Jeremiah a story on Margaret Sanger yesterday. I would have done a great job on it; I majored in Women's Studies for many years.

I mentioned eugenics to Jeremiah. Then, I mentioned that Katherine Hepburn is a relative.

Renee yelled, "I can't hear myself THINK!"

When THEY talk, it's ok. When I talk, I'm BOTHERING people!

I went home that night and found three REPUTABLE websites with background info on Margaret Sanger. I emailed them to Renee. No acknowledgement.

Jeremiah's story ran last night. I was there when Renee read over the copy.

I heard it when I got home.

Jeremiah, twice, said "R U four sixty eight."

It's "R U four eighty six."

Now, if I hadn't been shut out of the process, told to stay in my second class status, volunteer place, told to shut up and butt out, that mistake wouldn't have happened.

I'd have caught it in a heart beat. It's basic to feminist thinking.

Now, they're building an apartheid wall, to shut me in even more. They won't have to look at me or hear me.

Rather than INTEGRATING me into operations, they're SEGREGATING me FROM them.

...for my own good, don't you know.

My people are always the niggers on the backs of busses, the white trash that isn't welcomed, the drunken Indians who are shunned and laughed at.

I didn't go to KUNM to be isolated in a sound proof booth. I went there to be part of a community.

And, once again, I'm being told I'm not wanted. I'm being told I'm barely tolerated. They will physically change the structure of the news room, rather than make a sincere effort to interface with me.

I have a lot to teach.

They won't learn a damn thing from me like this.

Renee said, yesterday, that nobody wants to hear about my personal life.

I know about her 21 year old cat, her intestinal problems, one reporter's chemical dependency, another's kids, etc.

One of the things she sited, in addition to my announcements that I'm going for a cigarette or to pee, is when I was desperate to borrow five dollars, so my bank wouldn't charge me an overdraft fine.

IF they knew about my personal life, they'd understand that FIVE DOLLARS is the difference between security and homelessness! My personal finances GREATLY impact my ability to contribute to KUNM.

I didn't even have two dollars for friggin' GAS for a scooter that gets a hundred miles to the gallon, last week!

Why aren't I coming in earlier, like I used to, so I don't bother so many people, Rachel asked.

Because, I answered, last week, I had to take rides from Danny, cuz I couldn't get gas for the scooter!

I also lost out on DOZENS of free eggs because of that, by the way...if anybody cares.

Do you think I WANT to humiliate myself at KUNM, PANHANDLING????????

My works' good enough to submit for awards, but nobody can get me any MONEY????? Hell, they even resent letting me borrow field recording equipment, and make a big deal out of it? And don't give a damn that my hard work is disappearing into cyberspace, from which I can't retrieve it?

I'm staying. I need the money I can earn from FSRN and NNN.

Beyond that, I've EARNED the right to be there. I DESERVE this.

Shoot, people complain when I use the automatic door opener, for disabled people. They tell me I don't need it. That door must weigh nearly a hundred pounds! Sometimes, I need to use the damn motor, to open it. But the motor doesn't work right; most of the time, the door barely opens: less than an inch. At those times, the motor makes squeeking noises, trying to "close" the door after I go through.

That's not my fault. I'm not sqeeking. The door squeekes because no able bodied people have reported it to maintainance.

No disabled people have, either. Which indicates to me few need to use it.

But that's what it's there for. I need it; I'm trying to use it.

I finally mentioned it to Danny, hoping repairs to the door will be part of the remodelling. They are. But nobody's in any hurry.

There are other doors, too, which are hard for me.

I don't have a car. I don't have a desk drawer. I have to carry my bag, my lunch, my notebooks, recording equipment, scooter tools, etc. That's a lot of heavy stuff.

I need the automatic doors!

As I write, my legs are all cramped. The office furniture I have to use is thirty years old. Seats are sprung. I can't adjust heights. I primarily sit at an oak school teacher's desk. It's too tall for a computer keyboard. I lower my chair, trying to keep circulation in my legs. I have to hold my hands at awkward positions, to type on the keyboard.

So, my shoulders and neck have cramps. My elbows are always bruised, from banging against chair arms. My neck is stiff from craning it, trying to read the tiny type on the computer monitor, which is about the size of a dinner plate, and too far back for me to read.

It HURTS me to work there. It costs me MONEY to work there.

Most people of my financial status wouldn't even have attempted to volunteer at KUNM. And any who did would probably give up, much sooner than I ever thought of it.

Yesterday, Danny asked Renee what could be moved out of the newsroom. I suggested a vacant computer desk. It houses telephone books and the rolodex. Nobody ever sits there.

She jumped all over me. She said I was TELLING people how to do their job! Damn, lady, it was just a SUGGESTION!! Hell, I spend more time in the newsroom than YOU do! I KNOW what's essential and what's not!

She used superlatives: I'm, "always..." I "never..." I'm "constantly....."

It was BS and I told her she was using superaltives. Condemning me, writing me off.

She heard it and she backed off.

But dammit, if I have to worry about a tantrum, any time I try to contribute to the community, I'll give up or blow up, one or the other.

Danny saw it. Danny recognized it, after that crap about the computer desk. He patted my back as he left the room.

When I first got there, I had a bad accident in the toilet. The commode seat bolt was loose. I sat on the john, slipped, cracked my head on the toilet paper dispenser and bruised my knee on the floor.

I asked someone where I could get a wrench, to tighten the nut on the bolt. I was told I couldn't do it, that it was an "insurance liability."

But me getting hurt, trying to pee, isn't?

But maintenance won't come "all the way out here, just to tighten the nut." I'd have to wait 'til something "more important" came up.

Well, I have a bad memory. That stall is the 1st one I come to, when I go to the ladies' room. I'm busy, thinking about other stuff; I shouldn't HAVE to keep in mind that the toilet can HURT me!

I went down to my scooter. I got out my damn wrench. I went back upstairs.

Women had shoved: toilet paper, match books, gum and a cigarette butt up under there, trying to make it more secure. Looked, to me, like it's an OLD problem.

I removed all the jerry rigging, grunted down onto the floor, reached under with my wrench...and fixed the damn toilet seat.

Now, there's a guy with a truckload worth of tools, right up there on the 3rd floor. It's a ten second job.

But, no: I had to get my gimpy butt down on the bathroom floor, in girl clothes, and fix the friggin toilet, so I wouldn't be permanently injured by neglect, apathy and beurocracy!

THAT TOILET SEAT is MY METAPHOR for what it's like to WORK --volunteer or not-- at KUNM.

Nobody CARED that I got hurt! It's not IMPORTANT!!

I now use the stall for disabled women. There's more room for me to mess with my skirts without banging my elbows. I can use the hand rail to sit. But the seat's too high, to accomodate wheel chairs. It hurts my legs.

And, given my history with that other stall, how much faith and trust do YOU think I put in putting my whole body weight on that hand rail????

I'M AFRAID TO EVEN RELIEVE MYSELF!

Yeah, I have to make compromises. I have to "try to fit in." I have to "go with the flow."

Well, people like me, who try to "go with the flow," generally end up DROWNING!

I guess they think I'm just being petty, huh?

Y'know, I lived in a tin pole-barn in southern Indiana for a year. I didn't have plumbing, just a spigot at the top of the hill. I fashioned a comode from an old, five gallon bucket. I even rigged a discarded old toilet seat on top. THAT was more secure than that toilet at KUNM!
I can make do with a lot. I can jerry rig; I invent prosthetics all the time to get me by...that's what the damn SCOOTER is, you know: a way of walking and carrying things better, without exhausting myself!

But if I TRY to accomodate myself, I'm crazy, in the way, a loose cannon, an insurance risk, a complainer, a crack pot....a threat to the status quo.

So, as soon as they can arrange it, Rogi's being forced back in the closet.

Charming, huh?

Now, look: this is my blog. I get to be cranky here, without being politically correct. If you don't know by now that I dearly respect Renee, Marcos, and just about everybody else there, you're too stupid to say anything.

But I don't have friends. I don't have family. I need to vent. I need to think out loud. I need to be heard.

I know damn well these people aren't TRYING to hurt me.

But the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And I'm feeling driven to hell in a hand basket.

A hand basket was how the wounded were carried off the battle field, in case you didn't know. Especially: it was used to remove FRAGMENTS of bodies.

Get THAT metaphor?

It's three thirty now. It's warm out. I'm going to water my garden before I head to the station.

I don't DARE use the hose when Raoul's home Thurs-Sunday. I'm worried my garden will die.

So, I'm going out to water in the middle of the night, while I have the opportunity.

I work SO HARD to accomodate others' sicknesses and dysfunctions! jesus...

Lord, have MERCY!

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whimper.

Well, I heard back from FSRN. Gotta make a 3rd revision, that involves re recording 1 1/2 word: "has stated" must be changed to "is stating." I'll have to be very careful to try to match sound levels for that. groan.

But I did hear back. And they sound like they really want to broadcast it.

I FINALLY got people at the station to understand I'm working with some severe deficits: I DON'T understand Windows, office procedures, etc. I DON'T handle distractions well, and really, totally lose my place and have to start all over.

They're finding some partition walls, to create a "cubby" for me. I will be assigned regular hours. During that time, I'll have the computer & cubby ALL TO MYSELF! I'll have an accoustic curtain, so their conversations and my mumbling won't drive us all crazy.

Renee and Rachel are investigating transitional services: to help me catch on to office procedures and even, if I'm lucky, a course in Windows.

Mean time, the grrls on da 1st floor are GIVING me a spare computer, so I can word process at home and mark sound bites on raw audio from home. That way, it'll be easier for me to edit audio faster at the station.

Susan, executive director of Native America Calling, smokes with me on the patio. She has been kind and supportive and encouraging about my struggles to interface with the alien life forms on the third floor.

And she really understands about discrimitation, too.

Well, she dragged me up to the 2nd floor, where she and National Native News have offices. She introduced me to Tina James Tafoya, producer of NNN.

Tina will hire me as a stringer, fifty bucks for each 1-1 1/2 minute piece.

I'll produce about 3-4 minutes for KUNM, in exchange for use of their equipment and long distance phones. I'll cut to Tina's size, and give it to her.

I could earn about two hundred a month, this way. Whew! AND she's RIGHT downstairs, and she's friendly, and people say she pays fast! LOL

It was a SCARY day! I felt naked, talking about how HARD it is for me to succeed up there.

But Renee took time out to have a private conversation with me and was SO supportive. When I told her I was afraid I'd fail, she put her hand on my shoulder, stooped to eye level...I was seated....and said that, not only would I not fail, but I would succeed above and beyond.

She went to Rachel about getting the partitions and gawd knows where else, getting me set up to have my own, lil Rogi Ghetto. Walls! A DRAWER! A computer screen that'll look like it did if I get up to pee or have a cigarette!

Bet I could hang me some pictures. I'd like to hang the photo of Dad, holding his Oscar for sound editing, the year Mom was preggers with me!

Danny's already hunting partitions, and Rachel's contacting Surplus to retrieve some from ther.

I don't know WHY it took so long for me to make it clear, but they finally got it. And they rallied around me.

ANY time I've EVER "caused a problem" for an employer, voluntary or for pay, before, I've been told to leave or just marginalized until I gave up.

This is the first place that really helped.

It's like they get it: I'm sick and I need help to heal.

Suddenly, they realize most of their criticisms about me were simply based on assumption. Things they take for granted are totally alien to me.

They hate it when I say, "I'm going to pee" or "have a cigarette." But today, they understood I say that because I want them to know I'm coming right back, and would really like to find the computer the way I left it.

Also, factory, janitorial, etc. work go faster when coworkers chat. Homelessness and waiting for social services, etc., go faster, too. The kinds of work I've always done, coworkers know about each others' lives, from sex life, to sick kids' funny-looking poop!

LOL

When Renee finally understood how scared, nervous, confused, disoriented and lost I am in that place, she COMPLETELY lost the symptoms of being judgmental, and started solving the problem.

I'm lucky: I'm articulate. Most people of my income status don't get to voice their experience, or couldn't even if they tried.

It's a trip, I'll tell you that.

Renee's impressed that I bring food, ask after people's health, compliment people, etc. And we know she really likes my reporting.

But I was driving them all crazy, and they were driving me crazy, and everybody was getting stressed out and resentful.

Maybe this'll make things a bit smoother.

I'm certainly not graceful, but I am sincere.

I think they're starting to learn they can trust me.

Now, I need to learn to trust them.

That's going to be the hard part.

I don't remember how to trust.

It's morning, already?

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I gotta get the heck outta here; it's already six fifteen.

I got seven duck eggs yesterday; wanna get more today.

I need to update the kunm news website, as soon as I learn how.

And I started the application for temp. employment at UNM yesterday. What a chore! Need to finish that.

And I want to take my sound off the newsbooth computer, burn it onto a disc. The hard drive on the 'puter is full.

My legs hurt. It's the scooter: standing perfectly still, knees together.

Eventually, I'll make a wider, padded running board.

...but not today; I gotta get outta here!

script for FSRN

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I'll admit it: I'm annoyed that FSRN hasn't replied to me. I sent them three emails today and haven't heard a peep. I find it very disrespectful. Acknowledgement of receipt, if nothing else, is warranted by all my hard work.

Anyway, here's the script for them, including the transcriptions of my interview subjects.

It's cut down to four minutes.

LEAD IN:

RECENTLY, SECRETARY OF ENERGY SPENCER ABRAHAM ANNOUNCED A SET OF NEW INITIATIVES TO IMPROVE SECURITY ACROSS THE ENERGY DEPARTMENT'S NETWORK OF LABORATORIES AND DEFENSE FACILITIES, PROMPTING STRONG REACTIONS FROM GOVERNMENT WATCH DOG GROUPS. ROGI RIVERSTONE HAS MORE.
SCRIPT:

Peter Stockton served under Bill Richardson in the Energy department during the Clinton Administration. He is a Senior Investigator with Project On Government Oversight, a watchdog group committed to open government.

STOCKTON: "I will tell you about an exercise, a test that was run in October of two thousand, down at T A 18 in Los Alamos. The bad guys got into one of the facilities where they had these plates of highly enriched fuel for a reactor. And the good guys couldn't get 'em out. And the bad guys would have created one of these improvised nuclear devices, which is a nuclear detonation. Now, it'd be a kiloton, two kilotons, maybe three kilotons. But that would have made a huge mess out of northern New Mexico."

Computer simulations could replace nuclear-defense experiments at the Sandia Pulse Reactor facility in New Mexico, according to Energy Secretary Spencer Abraham. He says removal of the reactor's fuel and shipment to a permanent storage area could occur within three years.

STOCKTON: "Clearly at Sandia, which is in Albuquerque, inside Kirtland Air Force Base essentially, he suggests moving the material which is a fuel for a burst reactor, which is no more than a machine down there. Their point is to actually get rid of the reactor, 'cause they feel they can do what the reactor does with computer simulation. There's several hundred pounds of highly enriched uranium that go into this reactor. And you save approximately thirty million dollars in security costs there. It's a brilliant move."

The Energy Secretary also recommends expediting construction of a Highly Enriched Uranium Materials Facility at the Y-12 National Security Complex in Tennessee to allow consolidation of nuclear materials stored there. Mr. Stockton describes the situation.

STOCKTON: "At Y-12, Oakridge, in Tennessee, getting that material in a berm facility as quickly as possible (it's in six targets currently) and the time lines are so short that the bad guys would be in those places before you could stop 'em."
The Department of Energy will also assess whether essential defense-related work at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in California could be relocated, allowing removal of special nuclear material from that facility.

Greg Mello is director of the Los Alamos National Study Group, a non-profit, research oriented, nuclear disarmament organization based in Albuquerque. He describes the security concerns of storing weapons-grade uranium at Livermore.

MELLO: "His announcement in essence, is a reality check, saying, 'Look, Livermore Lab in California is surrounded by light industry and very-closely-packed subdivisions. Should we really have hundreds of kilograms of plutonium in the midst of a residential area?'"

In his press release, outlining the responsibilities and risks to DOE, Secretary Abraham is quoted as saying, "Since the stakes are so high, everything is on the table."

Paul Robinson recommends consideration of other concerns, not mentioned in Abraham's statement. He is research director with Southwest Research and Information Center, an environmental education and social justice group.

ROBINSON: "The recently-disclosed yard holes and the mixed-waste landfills are risks of contamination of ground water, air and soil. Those materials were disposed of by dumping, rather than by management in an engineered landfill. In general, they're tossed in a hole. The yard holes themselves have only recently been disclosed. And a number of Sandia-based commentators were unfamiliar with those materials. It was disclosed to Citizen Action in a Freedom of Information Act."

Energy Secretary Abraham proposes a three-year time table for removal of weapons-grade uranium at sites he outlines. This would put the deadline at the middle of the next Presidential administration.

Greg Mello recommends public involvement, vigilance and persistence to remove weapons-grade uranium in our communities.

GREG MELLO: "We have to
realize that these institutions operate with relative impunity, as kind-of isolated, non-democratic islands within our, within our culture."
This is Rogi Riverstone

---------

Now, don't you think that deserved a reply? jees...

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

I'm at KUNM. I never blog from here.

But I had to tell you something.

I ran into Renee, who'd just arrived, in the volunteer room.

She said the nukes report was very good. It airs tonight.

Then, she said the most remarkable thing: she said I ought to submit it for a broadcast journalists' award!

I don't know whether to laugh or cry or both.

I got a good interview with the president of the teachers' union today for my story on No Child Left Behind. She also faxed me a list of teachers I can contact for interviews. THAT could end up a REALLY big story!

Still waiting to hear back from FSRN. I made the edits, to both script and audio. I sent them a somewhat-related story I found.

They haven't emailed me back, though, so I don't know the status.

worry worry

I'm up!

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Been up since a bit after five.

Man, I'm achy! Too much schlepping food, pulling weeds, etc.

It feels like someone punched me all over my rib cage. moan.

Well, I heard back from FSRN. Apparantly, all I have to do is REWRITE THE WHOLE THING! And rerecord my voice. And reedit the piece and....

gawd.

So, I'll leave in a few minutes, stop by the duck pond for eggs, and get into a recording booth before the thundering herd shows up.

YAH! That big chunk of broken tooth FINALLY just now fell out! Ah....

Remember how annoying baby teeth were: they'd get really loose, but wouldn't come out, cuz they were still attached to the gum?
Just swallowing could knock the tooth out of alignment, making it hurt? And gawd forbid you bite down, when the tooth WAS out of alignment, cuz it'd send shooting pain up into your gum?

Well, it was like that. It was about half a tooth.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah: guess it'll be just me and good ol' Tom in the news room again this morning.

Shoot, I'll even beat the remodellers by two hours.

Man, by the end of the day, the hallway was full of sawdust vapors. My left eye filled up and so did my nose. And I don't even work on that side of the bldg. I just go there to take the elevator down, or to use the toilet.

One worker said, "If you thought that was bad, just wait 'til we start tearing out the plaster."

Oh, boy! sniffle.

I took a big gob of my eggplant stuff yesterday. Fed myself, Leslie and even Renee. Nobody dropped dead. Nobody complained..except Renee, because somehow, hers wasn't hot, while Leslie's and mine was molten.

It tasted better the 2nd day!

I'm taking more today.

And I'm taking some of those bags of salads, and some salad dressing.

I already took bread and peanut butter yesterday.

So, I'm keeping us all fed, anyway...

I had my hamburger last night: fried with a strip of bacon, slathered with jalapeno goat cheese, sprinkled with that salad stuff that looks like weeds, with a tiny hint of horseradish on a salty, "everything" bagel. mmmmmmmm....

Well, the sun's up.

I gotta get dressed and get the hell out of here.

Stay out of trouble.

Or, if you DO get in trouble, do it for a GOOD reason!

I have done everything I can do

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

...to get that friggin' story published!

SOMEone at KUNM ERASED my story from today's line up! DAMN!

So, seatbelts made it before nukes in my back yard. sigh...

Well, it is a long report, too.

Whimper.

I heard back from FSRN today; they're "considering" my story and someone will get back to me.

worry, worry, worry...

Y'know, if I made a hundred sixty bucks offa dat story, I could buy: tire slime, patch kits, a vacuum cleaner belt, cat food, sanitary pads and maybe even some dang BEER! And I'd still be a hundred dollars closer to getting out of that daggum BANK!

ooooooooooooooooo

Meanwhile, I have an interview w/ a gal from the Albq. teachers' union tomorrow, for the No Child Left Behind story.

And I've got to contact Staff Services about getting my resume the way they want it...gawd help me!...so I can get hired at KUNM.

puff pant.


Meanwhile, I weeded awhile this morning and put the scooter tire back on. A guy from Food Not Bombs dropped off some borrowed money, so I headed hell bent for leather over to KUNM.

On the way home, driving very slowly, as I had about a quarter inch of gas left in my one-quart tank, I stopped for smokes at the Campus Pharmacy on Yale.

Lo and behold: they had cigarettes for A DOLLAR A PACK!~!!!!

I bought as many as I could, and she's setting a carton aside for me, in case I actually get PAID! LOL

So, I don't have to kill anybody, going through nicotine withdrawl. maybe.

THe "empty" lot garden gets cuter every day.

And my sunflowers are already four feet tall, in places!

Oh, and most of the transplanted sunflowers I took to the patio of the bldg. that houses the radio station survived the week end!
It's hot in here; gotta sign off and turn on MY NEW AIR CONDITIONER! that WORKS! and works SO WELL, I have to turn it OFF after an hour!

WHOO HOOO!

PAYYYYYYYYY MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!

I'm having hamburger sammich on a bagel, with fancy schmancy salad fixin's and horseradish for dinner. With a hint of jalapeno goat cheese on top..

Ain't u sorry u ain't me?

jees, I'm tired

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

I must have tried five times to wake up this morning, but I just couldn't get up.

But I'm drinking fresh-brewed coffee now, with Porkchop at my feet and Osa at my elbow.

Osa's funny: she only sleeps on the pillow at my elbow when either the radio or tv is on. At night, I don't know where she sleeps.

I desperately need a shower, but don't trust my legs to support me yet.

I heard back from free speech radio. I have to transcribe, word-for-word, every interview in my piece. And I have to convert the .wav file to mp3. I can't do either from here. And I can't get there; I have no money left for gas.

I probably won't be able to do it 'til Wednesday.

I already wrote them; they know.

This will work out to about 3 or 4 dollars per hour.

What a chore!

But I'll do it. I need the money.

At least they're interested.

But if I do all this work and they turn it down, I'll be devistated. I won't have any more money until the 3rd of next month!

I won't be able to go anywhere or do anything, without gas.

And this is the week the remodelling starts in earnest, so Danny will be up to his ... in alligators for months. I'd hate to ask him for a ride every day.

Right now, I'm just waiting to hear back from FSRN.

So, here I sit: worrying.

That damned bank REALLY messed me up, changing its policies without time for me to budget! Bastards!

Lots of food!

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I even have about two pounds of cheese!

And herbs, and salads, and portabela mushrooms, and several pounds of different chilis.

I also have the vegetable/rice stuffing from bell peppers. I'm taking that to the radio station.

I made eggplant parmesan, sort of. fried eggplant slices. The batter was tofu based Italian salad dressing and water. The breading was: baby rice cereal, soy granules, italian seasoning, miso soup seasoning and garlic powder.

I covered them with tomato sauce and chopped tomatoes, splattered with ricotta cheese and topped with rings of red, sweet pepper!

Made 4 pans: 3 with cheese and with milk in the batter, one with no animal products, at all.

I ended up with abotu 4 pounds to bring home.

I'm taking some of the salads and dressing to the station, too.

Plus, I have gobs of bagels, bread and rolls to take.

It was a good day and everybody loved the food.

We also got some curry soup from a local restaurant.

We ate well today!

man, am I tired...

It's Sunday

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I slept in! Didn't wake up 'til seven thirty!

It's too hot already to mess with the scooter tire, so I'll have to call Robert for a ride in a few minutes.

My empty lot garden & my little yard are lit by xmas & Halloween lights now. Looks nice out there! Still have plenty of clutter, though; I'm rearranging my storage out there.

I want my kitchen stuff: stored canned goods, hot plate, electric oven, etc. closer to the front door, in case of foul weather. It's hard to run through mud and dog poo in the middle of a freezing, winter night, for a can of beans!

So, slowly but surely, I'm moving all my fire wood back out to the "empty" lot. I have whole trees, cut for fire wood, so it's a real job. I just do a log or two per day, to save my strength. The little corner where I plan to move my outdoor kitchen only has about 20 logs left. But they're longer than normal, hence, heavier.

I'm totally enjoying being in the yard and not the station; I needed to get that place out of my head for awhile.

Maybe it's all human institutions, but there's an unhealthy atmosphere there. One is expected to sacrifice one's own needs for the good of the institution.

Maybe it wouldn't bother me so much, if I weren't working at a deficit to start with.

But the extra, wasted time required by the lack of facilities, recording equipment, computers is really frustrating! I have to move from place to place and set up all my files again, where ever I go. It wastes time. Or, I just stand around, waiting for people to exit studios, so I can edit audio.

I need to focus on throwing together a small audio studio, right here. I need a mic. I need a functional computer, on which I can upload the audio program.

It shouldn't cost too much. I can probably do it for less than a hundred dollars.

I HAVE a computer, but some Windows files are corrupted. I know someone from whom I can request help. I think.

If I could research stories from home and edit audio here, I'd only have to come to the station to record phone & in person interviews. No WAY I'm making long distance calls to Washington, DC from HERE!

I actually know TWO guys. But one of the guys makes promises to me on a regular basis which he habitually forgets he made, leaving me in the lurch. I dread handing him my computer! It could possibly languish in his garage for decades!

Oh, and I need a monitor; mine pooped out. Made some radical, day glow colors for a few months, before it died...

Surely, I can put something together.

Anyway, that's one reason I'm emptying stuff out into the empty lot: I've designated a 4' long spot in the living room for media.

I'll have to be careful of WHEN I record there. When Raoul's awake, he's drunk, high and screaming.

Maybe I should fix it so the mic stretches to the bathroom?

I'll figure it out.

Anyway, while KUNM has more resources than many community radio stations, it's also more crowded with people, because there's more local production than many other such stations.

Which is a good thing. I don't like living in a town where the community radio station just burps up the NPR feeds!

So, KUNM is a fiesty place, which I respect.

I'll figure it out, eventually....

Don't confuse kindness with weakness

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I've heard that phrase twice today. First, in "Bounty," and now in some silly Hallie Barry movie.

It struck me. I remembered it. I paid attention to it.

I know people do that with me.

I'm generaly a well-mannered person. I first noticed this confusion in people while I was living in the war zone.

Anyway, I noticed it.

I'm sure I do it, too: confuse kindness with weakness.

But it's an interesting expression, I think.

I certainly know better than to confuse cruelty with strength!

I find bullies to be cowards.

Ant Bite!

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

I try so hard, not to disturb the red ant nests out there! But I still got stung in the foot! Ouchies! They get inside my shoes.

I did three loads of laundry this morning and totally soaked my flower beds, so I can pull more weeds.

I arranged planters. I hung my rainbow-striped Hobie sail from a tree, for shade over my lawn furniture in the back corner.

I set part of my witch & cat collection in my flower pots.

I took my big janitor's push broom and swept the sticks and gravel up, to make water barriers around the yard. It's much easier to walk out there now, without the big rocks and sharp sticks. But man, that was a job!

I raked apart that chipped wood pile, to let air in to dry it. It'll be used to bank and cover flower beds.

I hung 3 large pictures I'd found in the trash along the back fence.

I stacked kindling and started moving fire wood.

I organized some gardening tools.

I worked about four, maybe five, hours out there today.

I have the air conditioner on now. Just finished a lunch of "balogna tacos." I put cottage cheese inside folded slices of balogna. Cream cheese, if I have any.

I'll rest for the day now, except for hanging laundry.

I'll have a big day, cooking at Food Not Bombs tomorrow, so I need my rest.

That "empty" lot out there is turning into the cutest garden!

I even strung my long utility cord all the way to the back corner, so I can put a radio and a lamp out there.

It's all under a tree, whose leaves made rich, composted soil. That's where I'm putting in new flower beds. And, because of the 2 story apartment building next door, and the tree, it stays pretty fresh and cool for most of the day. It'll be a great place to sit and watch bees. And the cats really like it.

I think I'll break into my yogurt again now...wish I had some cookies....

I could make cookies tomorrow, huh? we have chocolate and pine nuts and some other good stuff....

Hope there's a good movie on this afternoon. I just want to be a potato...

Weapons Grade Uranium Removal

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

051305-WEAPONS GRADE URANIUM REMOVAL

LEAD IN:

RECENTLY, SECRETARY OF ENERGY SPENCER ABRAHAM ANNOUNCED A SET OF NEW INITIATIVES TO IMPROVE SECURITY ACROSS THE ENERGY DEPARTMENT'S NETWORK OF LABORATORIES AND DEFENSE FACILITIES, PROMPTING STRONG REACTIONS FROM GOVERNMENT WATCH DOG GROUPS. ROGI RIVERSTONE HAS MORE.
SCRIPT:

Peter Stockton served under Bill Richardson in the Energy department during the Clinton Administration. He is a Senior Investigator with Project On Government Oversight, a watchdog group committed to open government.

[Stockton describes mock attack on Technical Area 18 at Los Alamos National Laboratories :038]

Computer simulations could replace nuclear-defense experiments at the Sandia Pulse Reactor facility in New Mexico, according to Energy Secretary Spencer Abraham. He says removal of the reactor's fuel and shipment to a permanent storage area could occur within three years.

[Stockton describes the reactor, and the savings to the government upon its removal and the removal of fuel. 0:30]

Paul Robinson is more skeptical. He is research director with Southwest Research and Information Center, an environmental education and social justice group.

[Robinson describes lack of planning for disposal of nuclear materials from the Sandia Pulse Reactor. He describes recently disclosed land fills and yard holes, containing equally-dangerous materials, which the Secretary of Energy does not address. 0:47]

The Energy Secretary also recommends expediting construction of a Highly Enriched Uranium Materials Facility at the Y-12 National Security Complex in Tennessee to allow consolidation of nuclear materials stored there. Mr. Stockton describes the situation.

[Stockton describes security at Y-12 0:20]

The Department of Energy will also assess whether essential defense-related work at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in California could be relocated, allowing removal of special nuclear material from that facility.

Greg Mello is director of the Los Alamos National Study Group, a non-profit, research oriented, nuclear disarmament organization based in Albuquerque. He describes the security concerns of storing weapons-grade uranium at Livermore.

[Greg Mello describes facilities at Livermore and their proximity to heavily-populated areas 0:30]

In his press release, outlining the responsibilities and risks to DOE, Secretary Abraham is quoted as saying, "Since the stakes are so high, everything is on the table."

Paul Robinson recommends consideration of other concerns, not mentioned in Abraham's statement.
[Robinson on recently-disclosed "yard hole" dumps at Sandia Labs 0:35]

Energy Secretary Abraham proposes a three-year timetable for removal of weapons-grade uranium at sites he outlines. This would put the deadline at the middle of the next Presidential administration. In a prepared statement, U.S. Senator Pete Domenici said he continues to have concerns that security costs are outpacing any growth in the DOE budget, and that he will work with Secretary Abraham to consolidate special nuclear material where it [quote] "makes financial sense and will not undermine the program." [end quote]

Domenici is chairman of the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee. He also serves chairman of the Senate Energy and Water Development Appropriations Subcommittee, which funds DOE and the national laboratories.

Greg Mello recommends public involvement, vigilance and persistence to remove weapons-grade uranium in our communities.

[Greg Mello describes problems with accountability
0:40]

New Mexico Congressional Representative Heather Wilson declined to comment for this report.

For KUNM, this is Rogi Riverstone

It's DONE!

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Ok, I got all the bits of sound put together. Before I mixed it down into an audio file, I had Renee come in and listen to it.

NEVER ask your news director to listen to a piece BEFORE you pee!

And the damn thing is nearly six minutes long! ugh!

So, she listened. Six minutes is a long time, especially for a hard news piece, especially one on weapons grade uranium, especially the terrorist and environmental implications of same.

So, I hopped from foot to foot outside the newsbooth as she listened. I saw no change in facial expression; she betrayed nothing that I could detect.

It was agony.

When it was done, she said,

"that's fine."

I said, "I need to adjust the sound levels on the phone interviews; they're too low."

"Yeah, and that one cut you mentioned while it was playing."

"So, what do you think?"

"I think it's good. How long is it?"

Now, I expected the Hammer to fall...it's damn near twice as long as normal.

"Five minutes, fifty eight seconds," I said, cringing.

"That's ok; it's a good piece. Edit the lead in and put it in Ready For Air."

Unless something dastardly happens between now and 5 pm Monday, she'll air it then.

I also made another copy, leaving off my sign-off of "for KUNM," to FTP to Pacifica.

I FTPed it; I emailed them with the title of the audio; I emailed them the lead in and my script.

That's all I can do, for now.

How satisfying! Such a complex, heavy, stressful, technical story! But I made it easy to hear and understand. And it's "ear-catching." I made sure to modulate my voice in a crisp, musical, warm but efficient audio file, so it's easier to hear. A spoon full of sugar and all.

Paul Ingles also listened to part of it and complimented my reading.

I hugged Tristan, for helping me with the editing.

Leslie Clark, a paid reporter, drove me home tonight.

She sat in my empty lot/garden with me and filled me in on some station history. I have a much more clear understanding of why certain people do what they do...or don't.

She, too, said I'm a good writer and good reporter. In fact, she wants me to help her edit something she's writing that's not news related!

Good lord!

I'm thinking of little presents I can get people if fsrn pays me. I want to thank people for their generosity, patience and support. Nothing fancy: just little gifts.

I'm buying Danny some beer! LOL.

But I'm not saying what else I'm getting, nor for whom. They might read this blog and ruin their surprise.

I think I know now who "ratted" on me yesterday. I suspected yesterday.

I'm letting it go. It really scared me and hurt me. But, if it's who I think it is, the person looks scared all the time. And not just with me, but with others.

I'll just pretend it didn't happen. Everybody who needs to knows how I feel.

I won't try to confront or befriend this person.

But, if I'm right, this isn't a person with whom I need or even WANT to work, anyway.

No big loss. But people do agree with me that going to the station manager, rather than the volunteer director, was shooting a gnat with an elephant gun. It's not done; it's bad form.

Next week, demolition of the station starts in earnest. I plan to be a scarce as possible, at least for awhile.

I want to learn to webmaster the KUNM.org news site. But I won't be producing major work right now. I can collect my interviews for the No Child Left Behind story.

But no sound editing, reporting, etc. next week.

I also need to go through the bull snot to get hired there.

That, and gardening and house cleaning, ought to keep me plenty busy!

The Hot House Flowers are all going to have their panties in a twist, anyway, with the hammering and wall-breaking and ladders and......

If I show up, the Hot House Flowers might just spontaneously combust!

So, I'll give them, and myself, a break from THAT stress!

There's not going to be a women's restroom for awhile!

The music department is moving into the old newsroom, while we "evacuate" to the conference room.

It's a HUGE mess. Sounds like they planned it well. But there will be construction noise on the air from time to time.

I'll try to bring plenty of good food, to comfort people.

But I'm not interested in taking up too much studio space; studios will be down, one at a time, for awhile and everybody will be desperate for recording equipment.

So, I'll stay out of the way.

I feel much better. Paul talked with me for a good long while today. And so did Leslie.

Shoot, I was so freaked out and snotty yesterday, Tom actually smiled at me and was gentle and kind! He's a bit...shall we say...brusque? at times. He's a good guy; he just makes me nervous sometimes.

So, everybody's getting presents.

Whether cooked, home made, store bought... they're all getting stuff.

I want to thank them.

This is the first time in a LONG time that I've felt like a human being.

And it's been WAY too long since I've felt like a reporter!

And I AM good!

In fact, it's the ONLY thing I'm good at, besides cat farming....

>^oo^<

Press and liberty

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Well, I almost quit today. Someone complained about me. Not to Rachel, my supervisor; no, they went all the way to the Station Manager.

Apparantly, they're offended that I spoke to them when they came into the volunteer room while I was on the computer and they were making copies. And, apparantly, they're too chicken to speak to me. And, apparantly, they're offended that I spent so much time on the Volunteer Room computer, at all.

I've been crying all day. What a sneaky, vicious, underhanded, cold-blooded, spineless way to deal with their concerns!

I stayed, as I had no ride home. And I worked on my story as long as I dared.

I had many interruptions today; I had to move from computer to computer. Reloading all my sound and text documents took a lot of time.

I didn't get it done.

Rachel gave me a ride home. I was just listening to DemocracyNOW! They broadcast a speech by Bill Moyers regarding free press, democracy, and the undermining of our rights.

There's no transcript; I can't post it here. The sound file is here: http://play.rbn.com/?url=demnow/demnow/demand/2004/may/video/dnB20040513a.rm&proto=rtsp&start=30:05.88.

WebTV can't hear it, sorry.

At the end, he describes "printers," the old word for journalists, and the persecution, pettiness, hair splitting, and painting-into-a-corner journalists have suffered at the hands of the status quo.

Something about journalists as people who speak the truth. Something about journalists as people of passion.

That's me.

People won't respond to news that doesn't engage them, doesn't make them feel the passion.

The reason I'm a good journalist is because I'm passionate. And that's the reason why I'm perceived as a threat.

So, to whomever ratted me out, let me tell you: I don't have an office; I don't have an office door; I don't have a computer that's always the same as it was when I walked away; I don't have a car; I don't have a college degree; I don't have even a paycheck for what I do! In fact, this is costing me time, energy and money!

If you can't be even a little tolerant, flexible and generous with PUBLIC facilities, maybe you need to work for Clear Channel and get the hell out of PUBLIC radio!

I WILL NOT GET IN THE BACK OF THE BUS! I will NOT get small and invisible, for your comfort level.

I heard a rap song today. Here's a quote: Apartheid is a head ache cure.

Well, I refuse.

Talk to ME! Speak up or shut up!

I work harder, with fewer resources, than you do. I produce high-quality work, from a WebTV and a toy scooter!

Get out of my way!

ok, I give up

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Sigh.

I'm too sleepy. I know it's only nine, but, dang it!

I'm ninety percent exhausted and the rest worn out.

I pulled about twenty five feet of weeds this morning, before Danny got here.

I ain't done spit since I got home, but walk to the empty mail box, gnaw some cold meat and suck a yogurt thing.

I've got to remember to cook my turkey breast soon! It must be thawed out by now. Maybe in the morning?

I ain't worth shootin', I'm so tired.

I'm watching a 3rd Rock rerun, which is very simple, and I can't understand it.

blah.

I borrowed 2 batteries for the keyboard today. I'll replace them when I get paid.

yawwwwwwwwwwwwwwn
g'night!

I'll probably wake up at three!