License plate nxcw87

Achieving Mastery

 

The only goal worthy of achieving for anyone, even ex-cons is achieving mastery in any given field, master carpenter, master electrician, master plumber, et cetera, et cetera… once you achieve mastery you are able to earn a living wage. What is a living wage in America? $70,000.00 per year. A person that had achieved mastery can go into any city and find work while earning $70,000.00 per year. Achieving this is crossing home plate. After 6.25 years in prison I paroled and chose the field of Information Technology as my career path. I went to college and got a BS in CIS (Bachelors of Science in Computer Information Systems) then I went on to grad school for a Masters in Information Systems. I have a Security Clearance for the work I did as an IT Consultant to the Federal Government and I have 10 years’ experience of Teaching and Training Information Technology. After your 40 hour work week you should be spending another 20 hours a week on making yourself more marketable by doing things to raise your skill level. This can be done by taking workshops, classes (not necessarily a college degree) or by working a second job, a part-time job in the field you are working in. After 10,000 hours of extra work you should achieve Mastery. That's 10 years, 10 Years of working minimum of 60 hours a week. You just made it to first base. You are a long way from scoring. Time to get to work. Mastery is the only goal worth striving for and achieving. The End...

Hitting rock-fucking bottom

 You might think going to prison would be hitting rock-fucking bottom in life but that's not true for those who use prison as a revolving door. It was my experience that the vast majority of convicts getting to prison take out a shovel and begin digging deeper and deeper as to hit lower and lower levels of rock bottom as time passes. This is why it's not possible for most ex-cons to create any semblance of a meaningful and quality life after prison. For those convicts using prison as a revolving door have a life filled with nothing but evil so these people are broken human beings, they are beyond redemption, beyond rehabilitation and as such beyond the possibility of creating a successful and meaningful life after prison. This is a truth people don't want to hear or accept.

Prison Gang Members

 Having watched how prison nazi’s live their lives behind bars made me ashamed to be Caucasian, it made me ashamed to be part of the human race until I realized the prison nazi’s were not human at all, prison nazi’s are most definitely SUBHUMAN. I can think of no logical reason why our federal government fails to pass a law allowing the prison system to take every prison nazi out behind the prison, forced them to dig a shallow grave then shoot, one bullet, to the medulla oblongata (back of the head). This action would elevate the human race and save billions of tax dollars.

The same thing should happen to the black prison gang members and the Mexican prison gang members. We cannot play favorites with any of the prison gang members. They all need to go!

SCUMBAG UNCLE TOM

 When I see, on camera, a black police officer stand by and watch a white police officer (KKK Member) do NOTHING when the white police officer murders, in cold blood, a black man I think about the term “SCUMBAG UNCLE TOM"

White police officers are the modern-day version of the KKK

 I once did business (marijuana business) with the son of a police officer, a police officer killed (off duty) when trying to stop the robbery of a convenient store. This person, let’s call him Tony”, told me that his dad told him there exists, on every major police forced across the United States of America, the modern-day version of the KKK. That’s right folks, there exists a modern-day version of the KKK still with us and guess what, they wear badges and guns. When I watch modern day police officers/KKK members murder blacks in cold blood and on camera, I think of “Tony” and what he told me all those years ago.

Next year (2021) the defense budget in America will be cut by 50%

Bill Maris quote

Bill Maris and Kevin Rose were on Charlie Rose. It was a great interview. I heard Bill Maris describe the mindset of many of the entrepreneurs he comes across as a venture capitalist.


" They have a healthy disregard for the impossible "


The masses cannot conceive or entertain this type of thinking. The masses are born in a box. Raised in a box and live their obedient lives in a box filled with FEAR.  It's blasphemy for them to suggest or even entertain a life outside the box for they are slaves meant for bondage on the path of fear.

There but for the grace of god go I....

Career Education Corporation Part 6: Laptops were stolen

 

Teaching with laptops did not work out as expected. The battery life was supposed to be twelve hours. They didn't last eight.

Weeks if not months after I taught the class with laptops the IT director along with the school's top administrator, I think it was the acting president, stopped by my class. They had an odd look of concern and urgency about them. (I was in the middle of a lecture) The IT director approached as I stood there in the front of my class. He got close, looked me in the eyes and with great discretion asked:

"Do you still know the combination to the cabinet with the laptops”. It was a combination lock utilizing letters in the place of numbers allowing words for combination.
 

I nodded my head (affirming) and said in a whisper "DELL". They were Dell laptops. The combination was simple to remember. 

After I gave the IT director the combination he told me the laptop had been stolen. Someone cut off the lock.

I'd like to think the school, Harrington College i.e. Career Education Corporation, would not consider me a suspect (because I'm not a thief). I was rebuilding my life. I was climbing the ladder of success one rung at a time. No shortcuts. I was in the process of getting an education along with experience and references. I understood the value of networking in the business world. I need a glowing reference from Harrington College when I leave. I need a glowing reference from every company I work for. At times I found myself a slave to my resume. In one small way I thought,:

If I serve my career my career will serve me

I literally am beyond reproach (in my own mind). This is the way I think, this the way I act. This is what I fee l about myself, especially as the words relate to Harrington College. I did an great job teaching while at Harrington. I brought tremendous energy and enthusiasm to my classrooms.

If I do a great job and and represent the school well I have nothing to worry about. Nothing. No Thing.

That was not some of my better thinking.

As it turns out I was NOT above reproach. As it turned out there was an investigation. As it turns out I was a suspect. They found out about my past. The criminal stuff. It may have been reasonable to them that an ex-con would be the most logical suspect, me and the African American network technician. I imagine he was a suspect because he disappeared shortly after the laptops were stolen.

At one point I heard my co-workers discussing my criminal past. This was after the laptops were stolen. The word was out and I was on my way out. I was not long for their world. Not only was I on my way out, I was humiliated in the process.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Lots of hard work went into getting that job. Hard work went into keeping that job. All that work and effort flushed down the fucking toilet. It felt that way for a couple of minutes. I felt frustration. There was no getting around it, this part of dealing with a felony conviction.

“This is all my fault. I have no one to blame but myself"

Be that as it may, after I head my co-workers discussing my criminal past I realized I needed to walk out. I felt humiliated. It was one of those OMG moments. I sat down, typed out a letter of resignation stating why I was quitting and printed three or four copies, maybe it was five or six. I put them in envelopes and asked my bosses secretary to deliver them and I left. I gave the security official downstairs my faculty ID card. I think that was December 2006.

There was no getting around it. I was the one that chose trafficking marijuana for a living back in 1984. In one form or another I will continue to deal with my past no matter how much time passes. Sobeit. There are worse things to be dealing with.

The simple fact of the matter is this, I found this job. I’ll find another.

After teaching for Harrington College for a couple of years then being hired by them to build a database and giving me access to sensitive information concerning each faculty member, then being approved for tuition reimbursement for grad school, Harrington College wrote me off the schedule. They found an easy way to dispose of me. No more classes for you...  

I spoke with some lawyers but did not think suing former employers was part of rebuilding my life but it seems obvious, they entered into an agreement with me concerning grad school then went back on their word. That is actionable in court. Leaking out personal information about me to my co-workers is against the law as well.

Had those laptops never been stolen I might still be teaching at Harrington College. They had their hooks in me. The tuition reimbursement agreement I had with Harrington College i.e. Career Education Corporation, was to be paid out over time in future semesters after I completed grad school.

I’d been out of prison about six years or so and made significant progress in rebuilding my life. I’d gone as straight as a person can while seeking acceptance into corporate America as a form of legitimacy as a professional.

Though it was not my goal I felt certain I would be offered a full time faculty position even though I was only teaching one class and I would teach that same class four or five times each semester. Grad school taught me to get involved at work if you are interested in moving up the ladder. ---- I took their advice and it worked like a charm.

What I feel is indisputable about my time at Harrington College is this. I did an excellent job for them. They read the evaluations my students filled out. The president of the school even made a comment about the evaluations posted on-line at rate my professor.com. They had their eyes on me and I enjoyed it because I was doing such a good job for them. I'm a star, you better pay attention to me.

I was able to educate, motivate and inspire the students in my classes at Harrington College. Not many other teachers are as skilled as I am in this regard. That was my ace in the hole.  

 

 

Career Education Corporation Part 5: Teaching with laptops

My boss summoned me to his office. I could feel an opportunity preparing to present itself.

The school bought laptops for one classroom instead of desktops. This was as an experiment. The laptops would make the classroom mobile if they could endure two classes back to back without being plugged in. Eight hours of continues use. An external battery was attached.

The request was made for me to give these laptops a try. In the following semester I would teach two classes back to back with the laptops. I gladly took on the assignment.

Part of my thinking at this time was to become indespinsable to the school.  This indespinsablity was tied to job security. 

Career Education Corporation Part 4 - Tuition Assistance

They sent a memo informing us of the new tution assistance program. I applied and had my application approved. This was before they asked me to build a database to be utilized for scheduleing.

I had no intention of staying at the college any longer than necessary. The job was a means to an end. It looked good on the resume. It was a decent gig while in grad school and they were going to pay tuition assistance on my masters degree. The school offered a great deal and in return I did a great job for them.

Each and every semesters at Harrington College the school had the students evaluate me, and every other teacher to my knowledge. I have copy of those evaluations.

I never got my tution assistance.

I did not think sueing CEC (a former employer) was a good career move so I didn't.

Career Education Corporation Part 3 - Building a database

 

Aside from my teaching responsibilities at Harrington College they hired me to build a database for them. The database would be used by administrators for scheduling faculty members to classes. The database would contain all the classes having been taught by each instructor along with the classes they are capable of teaching. A table was needed for degrees held by each instructor and where they obtained their degrees. Room was needed for the professional certifications held by each instructor. Professional references could also be stored there. There would be a table consisting of each faculty members professional resumes in a pdf format along with contact information and mailing address.

The only reason I would even take on such an assignment would be to ingratiate myself to management. It was an awesome sign on their part when management offered me the job. I inferred they liked me, they trusted me and they could see me in the corporate picture in the foreseeable future.

I got paid for my efforts in creating the database then turned the database in for a class project in graduate school.  It's what I like to call a win win situation.

 

 

Career Education Corporation Part 2: Selling useless degrees

I thought I was teaching for a noble institution and felt honored to be there. Then I watched an episode of 60 Minutes where they did an expose on CEC, Career Education Corporation (my employer). It was not good.

CEC owned some seventy two colleges and universities across the globe. This was back in 2006.  I don't know what the numbers are today.

60 Minutes exposed some of the colleges owned by CEC as completely dishonest and fraudulent. Some of the colleges owned by Career Education Corporation were selling useless degrees to unsuspecting students. The colleges were putting the students tens of thousands of dollars in debt then giving them a useless degree for which they would go out into the world and forage for jobs offering minimum wage with no hope of a better life.

Harrington College of Design was not implicated in any of the wrong doing alleged by 60 Minutes.

Truth?

 

 

"They must find it difficult....

Those who have taken authority

as the truth,;

rather than truth as the authority"

G. Massey

Hired by Harrington College

It was a big day.

I started off the day by taking my last final exam for my Bachelors degree (BS in CIS). I left the campus relieved. Though I would not get my grade for the exam for a few days I knew I passed the test and the class. That particular chapter of my life was over. Three and a half years of night school found its conclusion with my having graduated.

I left the campus and headed to the train station. I had an interview downtown for an adjunct faculty position at Harrington College of Design.

The interview could not have gone better. I felt certain I would be hearing from them and I did. With the summer semester starting in just a few weeks I was called and offered a couple of classes. 

Do you believe in miracles?

I gladly accepted. It’s an understatement to say I was shocked by the job offer. I was astonished. Blown away. It was completely inconceivable on every level and in every way. Five years after being released from prison and I’d become a college graduate and adjunct faculty member at a college. A real college not some fly by night vocational school. I was a college professor. Unfucking believable.

A few days later I was called by the school and asked if I could teach four classes. Of course I can.

My goal after leaving prison was never to become a college graduate or a college professor.  I had a very general and vague goal and that was to create a life worth living. I did believe it was possible to rebuild my life after prison. I had no idea what it would look like. I believed if I worked hard and kept a good attitude I would be able to see progress within a year or so. As much as it pains me to admit it I did have a fall back plan. If I realized no traction in creating a new life after prison after one year of being home I would revisit my thoughts about going back into the marijuana business.

I did see traction in rebuilding my life and it only took a couple of months. The month after my release I found out about a government program offering tuition assistance for job training then I found a school offering classes in computer training. I enrolled and was in class five days a week eight hours a day. Then I found a bartending job working on Saturday and Sunday nights. Now here I was five years later and hired to teach at a college.

It was great to have the job but I did not want this to be a one semester gig and then have that come to an end. I needed this to last. I got through the first semester with flying colors and then made it through a second semester. With things working out with this job I decided to enroll in grad school and pursue a Master’s Degree. I stayed at Harrington until December 2006. 

B81) Heroin in prison

On two different occasions and on different prison yards (Cook Unit and North Unit) I witnessed an inmate who nodded off with a needle in his arm (dorm living). Truth is stranger than fiction. There he was, asleep with a spent syringe of heroin hanging out of a vein in his arm.

On both occasions a guard eventually walked up on the inmates during their heroin induced nap and it was off to the hole where the convict would complain about the injustice of life behind bars.

I've read published opinions claiming criminals want to be caught. I forget the reason why but supposedly deep down inside these people want to be caught. Watching a convict nod off in his cubical with a syringe hanging out of his arm supports the aforementioned position.


When I arrived to Cook unit I was lucky (again) in which dorm I was placed. The next dorm down had a Nazi in it (Ed the Nazi) that demanded a fight with any new white man assigned to the dorm. Since convicts come and go on most prison yards with a great deal of regularity the boxing ring was in use on a regular basis. Ed the Nazi had a well established routine.

New white guy shows up and settles down into his newly assigned cubical.

Ed the Nazi observes the new guy and puts his plan into motion.

1. Remove all contraband from the cubical. After the fight guards will be escorting Ed the Nazi to the hole and then they will search his cubical looking for contraband.
2. Obtain heroin and get it into your veins.
3. Step 3 is where the miracle happens. With the heroin coursing through Ed's veins he miraculously grows a pair of testicles and now stands ready to fight.
4. Attack the new guy

After the fight both men were taken to the hole...

B80 A man's reach....

Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for?

B79) I got my yearly physical

Tuesday August 21, 2012

It was time for the yearly physical. I'm fifty two and the physicals after fifty are supposed to be a yearly event. I would be a great deal more accomidating to this medical schedule if the physicals were not so damn invasive. That prostate exam almost makes it a deal breaker. My last physical was in 2008.  I was given a clean bill of health in 2008 and given another here in 2012. Aside from my left leg, ankle and foot I'm in good health. I attribute my good health status to the miles I get in. Even with a bad leg, ankle and foot I still get my miles in. They're not fast. There is nothing impressive about the distance and speed I ride at.  but I'm still in the game.   

Needing a yearly physical is a facts of life for a man in his fifties. They would be a great deal more tolerable  palatable if they did not include the prostate exam.

Prospective:
The toughest coach in the history of football (Vince Lombardi) died earlier in life than necessary because he did not want to get a physical. Imagine that,  all that "toughness" but not tough enough to get a physical. Coach could not deal with the exam. I learned this info on a recent documentary about Coach Lombardi. It was a great documentary that did an amazing job of defining Coach Lombardi's life and success. Definitely worth watching if you are a fan of football or a fan of leadership.

The physical gave me a new appreciation for what the ladies go through every six months when taking BCP’s.

Bottom line, I'm in good health.

I'm alive at fifty two and in good health. Nobody would have thought this possible when I was thirty two. I was surrounded by such negativity and toxic/cancerous lives. The work and how it was defined evolved. It went from being something exciting and

At some point I expected to be killed
t thirty three I doubted my ability to survive and see my fThe odds makers in vegas would have bet against me. I would live to see fifty two.



 

 

B78) Writer's block (part two)

It was unfair and inaccurate for me to have referred to my of recent lack of posting as writers block. That's not the truth. I did not stop writing. I stopped posting.  An odd form of doubt entered the equation of my blogging.  It did not make sense. It does not make sense. I post without editing all the time. I get the words out and move on. It's just emotion in print. That's what it feels like. This is what I'm going after. I'm hoping to make others feel what I felt.   

Eventually I reread my postings. Each time I reread them I'm humbled. My writing faux pas are endless. 

I need an editor. As joyful and good intentioned as my critics are with their willingness to point out my flaws, I need more criticism. Better criticism. Constructive criticism. It would be of immense help if my critics would direct me to their websites or their blogs so I can see first hand what my critics have to offer as an example of "right". 

Often critics are do as I say and not as I do............ kind of people?

I'm entertaining all offers for proof readers or editors for my blog. The pay is minimal (zero dollars. zero cents). If the blog takes off and we get a million hits a day then there would be some serious $$$$ financial rewards/ compensation.

B77) Golf

My impetus into the game of golf was provided by reconstructive shoulder surgery. The surgery was the result of my bull riding back in 1980.  (See blog: B46 The polish cowboy" for more details about my natural born skills for bull riding).

The surgery was scheduled for February 14^th 1988 (Valentines Day). I began to think about exercise as it related to rehabilitation. I needed to get involved with some activity after the surgery. Something fun. If it was going to be lots of fun I would feel more motivation to have a success rehabilation for the shoulder. I backed off running for a few years. From 1985 to 1988 was exercise in general was minimal. I needed to get involved with something but what?

The inspiration came as I sat at a stop sign near our house. Canada Hills Country Club was right in front of me. It was in front of me, next to me and behind me. There were two eighteen hold golf courses within walking distance of our house.

“Golf. Yes. Of course. That’s excellent”

We went to check out the Country Club together to inquire about membership. It was a non equity club. The admission fee was greatly reduced (waved) as they were in search of new members. We joined and I went shopping for a set of golf clubs. I ended up with TaylorMade TPC clubs and a PingPal for a putter.

The surgery was horrific. It went well but the pain was overwhelming. My right SC Joint (sternoclavicular) was reconstructed. The SC Joint is where the collarbone meets the breast plate. They cut off about an inch of my collar bone then reconfigured tendons and ligamants.  

When surgeons start cutting off bone ---------------------------  it's going to hurt.

I woke up in post-op screaming. The pain meds didn’t work well and I was overly vocal about the pain. It was like torture. They moved me into my own private recovery room because of all the noise I was making. Then they hit me with a big dose of Thorazine which put me into a catatonic state. The downside of this pharmacological choice was the pain. It was not accounted for. The Thorazine stopped me from yelling and screaming but it didn’t do squat for the pain.  

Eventually I was taken to my room. I had a roommate. He had a bed that was mechanical. Up and down. It's what we think of when we think of a hospital bed. My was not and I was in agony. The slightest movement was incredibly painful.

My family doctor stopped by to check on my post surgical condition. It felt like one of those Steven King moments. I could see my doctor standing at the foot of my hospital bed. I was unable to move or speak. That fucking Thorazine laid waste to my mind. I wanted to say:

“Help”.

“I’m in pain”

“Get me out of here”

I could not utter a single syllable. My eyes worked perfect. I could hear but it sounded like an echo way off in a distant canyon.

She smiled then left


All hope was then lost.

The following day I was released from the hospital and given a prescription for Tylenol 3. I stopped by my family doctor’s office for help. I was in search of medication that would help. I showed her what the surgeon gave me. She tossed that script into the garbage and handed me a new prescription.


There's a limit to what medication can do.

I had a massage therapist show up at the house every day for the next two weeks. When the masseur showed up and I was in agony. When he left I felt the agony was gone. It was remarkable. Truly remarkable. While I was getting the massage a cassette tape for hypnosis healing was playing in the background.

I drove by the Country Club every day. The golf clubs were sitting in my living room.  This helped to inspire me in a positive way.

The orthopedic surgeon was astonished at my recovery. I don’t recall how long it took before I was on the golf course, four weeks. Maybe six weeks. When the doctor gave the green light I became very active. I embraced the game of golf with all my enthusiasm. It was the right game at the right time. I bounced around to a few different instructors eventually I met a local instructor that spent sixteen years on the PGA tour. The man knew the game of golf and he was an excellent instructor.

With the right teacher and the right amount of practice I went from a nineteen to a nine in six months.

There was a poker table in the men's locker room. Often there would be a poker game on Sunday afternoons. I played all the time. We would have the cocktail waitress come into the men's locker room to deliver our drinks. There were some good times there.