Ewigkeit

I said I would probably publish some of my stories. Here is a relatively recent one. If you want to know what the title means ..... it's German ..... look it up.



Ewigkeit
By The Grand Duke of Hoboes

Initial Draft (July 13, 2007)
Revision 1 (July 14, 2007)
Revision 2 (February 7, 2008)

© Copyright 2007


Three hundred years.

He was surprised it had even crossed his mind.
He had been hard at work thinking about other things when it just popped into his head and stole his attention completely.

Three hundred years.

He had stopped thinking about birthdays ages ago. What would have made this one pop into his head?

Three hundred years.

Maybe it was just the "milestone" aspect of it that had unconsciously caught his attention. After all, reaching the age of three hundred should mean something. It had been a long time since the year 2055. But he knew it really held no significance anymore. He was in an elite group by reaching that milestone. There were only 743 humans, including himself, that had reached that milestone. But he knew that was only because he was part of the first 1,000 to undergo the procedure. Billions had followed since those early days and, someday soon, this milestone, like most of all previous human milestones, would mean virtually nothing. Still, even with all those billions coming up behind him, he would have the smug confidence of knowing he’d hit all those future milestones just a little ahead of the crowd. Not bad for a wild kid who never thought he’d make thirty alive.

He thought back over those three hundred years. His memory was perfect. He remembered the philosophical, moral, and political firestorm that erupted when scientists and doctors had first announced that it was now possible to transfer all of the thoughts of a human into a machine. The wonder of a human mind in an android body. People argued about it for several years. He didn't see what the big deal was. Artificial and lab-grown replacement body parts were old news. He, himself, had several replacement organs and thought nothing of it. He didn't understand the objection over the total body overhaul. Many other people apparently thought the same way and were also intrigued with the idea, like he was. They all joined in a lawsuit to be allowed to live their lives as they pleased.

They won.

The decision was to allow 1,000 to undergo the procedure and monitor them for several years to make sure it was safe. He was one of the 1,000. It took five years to get everyone converted. He had the procedure done in year three and was happy to do it. He had just turned 50 and his age was beginning to catch up to his body. Even though there were many medical procedures and drugs to control and correct those ravages of age, the thought of putting all of that behind him and jumping back into his youth thrilled him. He had no children and his wife had died in an accident just a few years earlier so he had nothing to lose. His physical body, like that of all who undergo the procedure, was stored in a repository. This was to preserve his biological DNA in case he ever got married and wanted children after becoming a machine. The monitoring went well and, eventually, the procedure was opened up to any adult. People flocked to the labs by the millions to have it done.

Why not?

Who didn't want to live forever? Who didn't want to eliminate aging and sickness? Who didn't want to be young and strong forever? The conversion would, for all practical purposes, make a person immortal. A little routine maintenance, an occasional mechanical upgrade, and the avoidance of major accidents would keep you alive indefinitely. Those wonderful little engineers even fixed it so you could have and enjoy sex. Once people realized that they would retain their personalities and individuality and not become part of some mindless collective hive, they were happy to leave behind all of the frailties of the human body.

At least, most of them were.

There was an almost religious upheaval by a small minority who felt that it was not "natural." They preached that people were meant to live time limited lives in physically limited bodies in order to better understand themselves and the “Human Condition.”

His own sister was one of those "flesh zealots." Five years his junior, she had a mind of her own. She argued with him and he argued back. She spoke of the spirit while he spoke of the body. She reached for the soul while he reached for knowledge. In the end, they agreed to nothing except the other person’s right to live as they so chose. He never could convince her to undergo the conversion and she doggedly held fast to her ideals. He was very sad when she contracted an illness and died just after her 80th birthday. She had been dead now for 215 years. An odd wave of sadness washed over him again as he contemplated that. He had never thought about her death in quite those terms.

It temporarily startled him.

The conversion led to an unexpected change in the destiny of humanity. Man-made evolution. People were now machines. They didn't need to breathe air or eat food. They could be sent directly into space to live and work without all of the cumbersome supporting structures that had plagued Man's efforts to move away from the planet. Suddenly, space travel was a breeze. When you have unlimited time, and need little infrastructure, space travel and exploration becomes, well, fun. Knowledge becomes an end to itself.

People left the planet in droves to explore the solar system and beyond. Individual humans, buzzing about the universe on individual quests for knowledge, were everywhere. Colonization groups banded together and began traveling out to other solar systems, bringing along their packed corporeal bodies like early travelers brought suitcases full of clothing.

One of the original philosophical fears was that some country would use the technology to build a super army and take over the Earth. What the worriers didn't seem to realize was, once you released a person from his constraints and no longer bound his existence to Man, Money, or God, he didn't care anymore about killing others for glory. He didn’t have to reach for Heaven, or run from Hell. There were much more interesting and enjoyable things to be done.

The end result was that less than 5 million biological humans now remained on the planet Earth. Without humans to overload and ravage it, the entire ecosystem began to renew itself. Wildlife flourished. Nature reclaimed the cities that Man abandoned. The atmosphere cleared. The ozone layer bandaged itself. There was no such thing as an "endangered species" list. Abandoned resources and materials were reclaimed by the inhabitants rather than creating more. Earth was now the Eden that Man had longed for it to be all along.

All we had to do was leave.

Once people became immortal machines, they started to put their intelligence into more esoteric pursuits. Of course there were a few accidents. Becoming an android doesn't automatically exclude you from stupidity. There was even still an occasional rare murder. But most of that was part of a long-gone past. Strangely enough, with such a vast universe to explore, there were even periodic reports of “fender benders.” He never did figure out how two humans could collide with each other in millions of billions of cubic miles of open space.

The UniNet was created when groups realized that they could network to each other, and gain the thoughts and knowledge of the others, without losing their own thoughts and individualities. New technologies made this possible even over vast distances in real-time once the underlying structure of the Universe was decoded. Privacy was even secured as one could simply break the connection at will and take a "vacation" from the masses. Secured memory areas were created too. Everyone didn't have to know everything. Within 60 years, nearly everyone was linked. Knowledge exploded.

So, here he was, three hundred years after his birth, waxing nostalgically about his life and Humanity in general as he studied a small black hole that was cruising independently though the outer edges of the Oort Cloud. But, he had spent enough time looking backwards. That original birthday thought, and all of the flotsam it brought back with it, had severely set him back in his observations. He had lost nearly a millisecond in precious observational time by reacting to that strange fleeting thought. It was a waste of time and an emotional annoyance. It was time to put it all behind him and move on. He would never think about it again.


Three hundred years.

Social Nut-Working

25 years ago, if I wanted to contact someone I knew, I had three choices. I could call them on the phone, mail them a letter, or drive over and see them. Today I have those same three choices ... plus ... cell phone, email, three different instant messaging accounts, texting, and Skype. However, apparently that is not enough ways to let people annoy me. My kids have been pushing for me to create a FACEBOOK page so I have. In the short time my page has been active, I have found out, by reading many of the posts I see, that many people have a highly inflated sense of self-importance. They somehow feel that, by posting on an internet board, they and everything they do is interesting to the world. Um .......... poppycock!!!!! The kind of crap I swore I would not do with this blog in my first post, is exactly what most people seem to be doing with Facebook. Why do people think it is important or interesting to tell people they are waking up, or going to sleep, or going to the mall, or that they are annoyed by the weather? My initial reaction to that stuff is, WHO CARES? I will leave the page up and I will post when I think I have things to say, but all of this time and energy-wasting drivvel may drive me off the scene in a short time. When I created the page, my son welcomed me to "the dark side" and promised cookies. It may take more than cookies to keep me interested in the "dork side." I'll give it a chance, though. For a while.

All Aboard

Forgot to add the note that we have a new dog. I am still saddened by our loss in January, but, in March I was looking at some stuff on the internet and ran across a picture of an adorable dog in a shelter near where I work. I went to check her out and liked her instantly. We got her and she is our new darling. I love smart dogs and she is definately one of them. She's a real sweetheart, so we named her Candy. It always feels good to find such a happy, loving pet and rescue them from a shelter. Knowing we can give her a home and a loving family. I think we will have a long, happy relationship.

Sand Under the Wheels

It's been a long and busy year so far and I haven't had much time to devote to this blog. Went on a father/daughter vacation to Arizona late in the spring which was wonderful. This was my daughter's idea. When my kids were younger, we would go on family vacations every couple of years. In between, I would alternate taking short vacations with my kids. Long weekends and such to places within a day or so driving distance. We always had a blast. My daughter approached me last year about doing one last father/daughter vacation before she got too old and moved out permanently. We planned it out and did one hellacious trip all through Arizona. Not surprisingly, my son approached me about doing the same thing (without knowing daughter had asked first). So we are trying to plan a father/son somewhere out west next year. I got my traveling genes from my mom and I can plainly see they were passed along to my kids. I have lots of great stories and adventures from my early travels, but, my kids don't seem to believe them until they see them firsthand. I can't tell you how many times during our vacation my daughter told me "oh my god, you weren't kidding." Tickles my heart. She has a whole new appreciation for desolation after driving from Carlsbad to El Paso. That's it for now. I may post one of my writings soon ...... just because I can.

Fires Gone Cold

On Saturday, January 24th, one of the toughest and saddest days of my life. Our beloved family dog, Samantha, was put to sleep. To be sure, I have had to have pets euthanized before. I grew up in a house full of pets and, occasionally, they had medical problems or age caught up with them and they had to be put down. But I was a kid then, and we were just told what had to be done, the pets went away and never returned, and we were sad. This was completely different. She was 12 1/2 years old and we had her since she was about 8 weeks old. I brought her into the house and, although the family all thought of her as "their" dog, she really was "my" dog. She was smart, she was happy, she was fun, and we were best buddies all this time. She developed tumors in her nose and sinuses and, other than controlling any infections, there was nothing we could do for her. She finally became so disabled by the things that it was just cruel to make her continue. She couldn't smell, she would hardly eat (lost 10 lbs in a month), and she was bleeding almost constantly from her nose. If she sneezed she would rip loose a tumor and blood would pour from her nose and mouth. She was tired and miserable ..... and I had to make the decision to kill her. That alone was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. The entire family went and we held her and were with her when they put her to sleep. It was quick, it was painless, it was quiet, and I felt like a freakin' axe murderer. It was as if I had betrayed her and killed her with my bare hands. I have never felt more horrible. I have been sad and depressed all week. My stomach was in knots for two days and, now that I am reliving all of this, it has been rolling over again. I know I will eventually get over this, but the heartache I feel for the loss of my beloved friend and companion I will never forget. I loved her with all my heart and I will never forget her. The love and friendship and caring she returned to us will always be a bright spot in our lives. Goodbye baby. You'll be missed always.

Short Siding

In the late 70's, my friends Joe and Randy decided they were going to take an extended vacation and drive the Alcan highway to Alaska, spend some time seeing the sites, and drive back. They read voraciously so they knew all about the weather, the primitive road conditions, and everything else. When they started to pack up Joe's truck to go, they had a huge checklist. They had water, tools, spare tire(s), tire repair kits, medical kit, clothes, stuff to make fires, canned food .... a truck packed to the rafters for hard survival. I came by to watch them pack and BS a while. Randy proudly showed me his checklist and all of the stuff they had. especially the store of canned food. I looked at him and said, "Do you have a can opener?" His jaw dropped. He looked at me blankly. He checked his list. Then he giggled loudly and went in to razz Joe about what they forgot to add to the list. A simple, yet necessary, can opener. A quick rummage through Randy's mom's kitchen drawers found the desired item and it was added to the truck, and the list. We laughed about it for a while but I knew they were actually a little embarassed. But they got off ok and their trip went great. There were weeks of good stories when they got back, and tons of great pictures.

Goin' East in the Westbound Lane

I worked in a steel mill for nearly ten years. During a break one day a bunch of us were talking about travel. I explained that I was a traveling fool. Put me in a car, put me out on the highway, and I can drive all day. Someone asked how far I thought I could go in a weekend and I said I thought I could drive to Tucson and back within three days. One of my colleagues jumped up and loudly proclaimed that wasn't possible. I thought about it more carefully and concluded I thought it could be done. My colleague then made the mistake of betting me I couldn't do it. We haggled for a while and, because he was very confident this was impossible, we settled on the rules for the bet.
(1) He would see me off and get the mileage on my van
(2) I needed some irrefutable proof that I was in Tucson
(3) I had to be at his house within 72 hours of leaving with the proof
The bet was for $1500 AND EXPENSES (boy was he confident). We had to each put up the $1500 up front and let a mutual (and neutral) person hold it.
I won baby .... I won !!!!!!!
I made it with four hours to spare and I took breaks along the way. My proof? I drove into Tucson, went to the University of Arizona bookstore and bought him a t-shirt (correct size). The receipt had the name of the bookstore and location, and the date/time. Shortest stay ever in Tucson .... about 20 minutes. I got in, got the shirt, and left immediately.
It really frosted his you-know-whats and he didn't speak to me for weeks afterwards. He also refused to wear the shirt. I bet his wife whipped his butt for dropping $1500 (plus expenses) on a stupid bet. I wouldn't do it again, but, it was certainly worth it once.

Tickets! Tickets, Please !!

Speaking of having fun with teachers ... in high school we had a teacher named Mr. Musser. He taught German and Joe and I took this as our language course. I took it because I already knew a little German and felt it would give me a start. Joe took it because he needed to take a language. It was clear from the start that he and Mr. Musser were going to have a battle of wills all year. Joe was not a good student of language, and Mr. Musser was determined to make him so. Two hard-headed personalities at war.

Joe did poorly at German but Mr. Musser always kept after him. Joe and I paired up for an exercise where we had to come up with a conversation in German and do it in front of the class. The conversation went like this:
Me: Joe. Nice to see you. How are you?
Joe: Not so good. Could you tell me how to get to the hospital?
Me: The hospital? Sure? It's down Fuhrer street at the third traffice light. Why do you need to go to the hospital?
Joe: I have a broken arm.
Me: How did you break your arm?
Joe: My mother broke my arm.
Me: Your Mother broke your arm? Why would she do that?
Joe: Because I got an "F" in German class.

The class liked it but Musser was annoyed.

We decided to spring a major prank on him. Surrepticiously, for a couple of weeks, we worked on a story to give to him. The title of the story was "The Death of Vernon E. Musser." Basically we made him out to be a Nazi who was using his home oven for nefarious purposes. He was defeated and killed by a 350 pound bull (looked a lot like Joe) and his body was disposed of in the Lake. We were trying to finish it up one day, in class, when we had a substitute teacher. He discovered what we were doing, and we had a big fight as he confiscated it and said he was going to turn us in to the administration. We told him we had planned to read this to Musser when completed and he didn't believe us. He didn't think we had the cojones (and he told us this) to do that. We pleaded to get the story back and swore we would. He eventually gave it back to us but said he would check back with Musser in a week. If we hadn't made the presentation by then, he'd turn us in.

Four days later, we interrupted class right after it started, and made a big deal of both presenting, and reading aloud, the story to Mr. Musser. He was red as a beet. He was offended, embarassed, and laughing all at the same time. When we were done we presented him with the story and goosetepped back to our seats. We always wondered whether he took it just to be gracious, and that we had offended him, or whether he liked it or not. We found out that for years afterward he kept it in his desk and would tell other teachers about it. So we made an impression. Perhaps it was Joe's bloody red handprint on the front cover that really set it off.

It's sad to know that stuff like that today would either get someone sued, or would probably get us expelled. Interaction and fun between teachers and students, and the inability anymore to find ways to express feelings and frustrations without getting into more trouble, I think are fueling some of the violence and frustrations in our schools today. People really need to learn to lighten up.

How Much is that Igloo in the Window?

In February of 1979, the downstairs cellar gang decided to take a trip to Winnipeg, Alberta to see our first total solar eclipse. The recent Siberian eclipse brought back some fresh memories of that trip. We were raw beginners as far as air travel was concerned. We booked our flight months in advance and had our ticket info. I was a little nervous as I had never flown before and I am not a lover of heights. We went to the airport and discovered, to our horror, that the flight time had changed and we had 10 minutes to get our butts to the gate. Thank God this was before TSA and the rediculous crap people are subjected to in airports today. We sprinted down to the gate, ran onto the plane, they rolled out to the runway, and before I even had a chance to be nervous we were on our way to Chicago (plane change). We circled Chicago for a while then literally dove in to land. When we took off again it was like barnstorming. We climbed high and fast and rolled out to get out of the traffic pattern. Wild. Winnipeg was a nice city but Winnipeg in February was an exclamation point on what a Canadian winter could be. It was bloody COLD! Block heaters for your car are a requirement and the parking lots had electrical plugs in front of the spaces so you could plug the heaters in. We had never seen that before. We walked around town and found a nice Chinese restaurant, then, VERY EARLY next day, we took our little rental car out to find a good spot to set up for the eclipse. We found a reasonably flat, open spot next to "Bob's Road." We never did figure out if it was someone's driveway or an actual road. We set up the equipment to "cool off" and within minutes found that we were freezing. We had parkas and mittens and boots and hats, in layers, but by the time the eclipse started in had only "warmed up" to 5 below zero. As we contemplated the situation, and whether anyone would find our bodies before Spring, a piece of crap rusting hulk of an old van pulled up with a wild looking little bearded guy. He said it looked like we had a nice spot and asked if he could set up wit hus. We said yes and found out the guy's name was Walt. We came to love Walt. First of all, he was a carpenter and had hand made one of the most gorgeous (and freakin heavy) telescope mounts ever. Beautiful craftsmanship. We helped him unload and set up. But what sealed our devotion to Walt was the fact that he pulled out a generator and a mini kerosene torpedo heater and fired it up in the back of the van. We must have looked shocked and envious because he graciously offered to let us warm ourselves up in the back of the van. We nearly crawled over each other to be first into the van. The eclipse was awesome! The pictures were fantastic! Walt was a lot of fun. And if he ever reads this I'd like to truly thank him for saving our pre-frostbitten butts from disaster. Strangely enough, a few years later I was on a s Summer vacation and I decided to loop back up through Canada and see if I could find our eclipse spot. I found it! Still no clue as to where "Bob's Road" went, but, I found out we were just a few yards from being permanently frozen additions to the Winnipeg tundra. Once all the snow was gone you could see that the area we thought was a nice flat field, was actually an 8 foot deep ditch and creek that was covered over by the snow. Had we walked out to try to get a better position we would probably have sunk to the bottom of the ravine. I took lots of pictures and reported back to the cellar on my return.

The Beat Goes On

After Glacier, Craig had to get home but I still had a couple more weeks of vacation left. We had to drive to Boise, Idaho and Craig flew home from there. On the way to Boise, we decided to stop and see the Hell’s Canyon area. It was still fairly early in the season though, and we found that the road we were trying to take up into the area was closed by snow past a certain point. We parked along the side of the road and hiked up (a couple of miles) and walked around for a while.

While we were up there, because we were old motorcycle riders, Craig asked me if I could hear a 2-stroke bike off in the distance. I told him that I could and, as we listened, the sound got louder and closer. A few minutes later a guy came over the top of the snow bank blocking the road on a little yellow dirt bike. Nearly sliding out and doing a face-plant as he did so. He saw us and stopped and we talked for a while. Nice guy. He said he had to go back down, but, if we were headed for McCall keep an eye out for him. Look for the bike in the back of a white mini-pickup truck. He took off.

Later, as we hiked back down, there were some interesting marks in the snow that we speculated was our friend crashing.

When we got back to the truck, there was a note stuck on the windshield from our friend. He asked if we saw his “crash & burn” marks coming down and said he hoped he’d see us later.

We drove down and went into McCall. Nice little resort-type town. Good size lake. Lots of boaters. Also one of the entry points to get back into the Sawtooth Wilderness. As we drove through town we saw a battered white mini-truck with a yellow dirt bike in it parked at a restaurant/pub (The Brass Frog if I remember correctly). We laughed, made an abrupt turn, and parked. We found our friend inside and we all had a good dinner and talked about travel, motorcycles, forest rangers (he was studying to be one), and Idaho (he was from Pocatello), A very pleasant evening. He gave us some good tips on other things to see in Idaho.

The next day, we were going to take my 4-wheel drive truck and go back over a few logging roads back into the Sawtooth wilderness. That plan didn’t last long. Even with all of our preparation, the logging road had so much debris from the trucks on it that, only about five miles down the road, we punctured a tire on some ghastly looking shard of metal. We changed it and limped back to McCall where we had the tire repaired and called it a day.