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Post by pbbrown0 on Dec 7, 2019 19:57:27 GMT -6
Disappearing into the Shadows
Peter was getting very frustrated. His plan just was not working, at least not so far. Always in the back of his mind was his concern that time was getting short. He needed a place to get better prepared for what was certainly coming, but that preparation would take time to be done right. If the balloon went up before he was ready, it could get very ugly for him, but still not as bad as it would be for most people. In looking for a good location he had discovered that many properties in his new home state were being auctioned off by the state, because the owners had failed to pay their property taxes. He had seen this as an opportunity to possibly acquire a piece of undeveloped land out away from things at a bargain price. The opening bids were prescribed to start at merely the cost of past due taxes plus some added government fees. This meant it was theoretically possible to acquire a piece of land for a tiny fraction of its assessed value. With his financial situation this might be only way he could afford what he really wanted without taking out a mortgage.
These tax auctions were set up so the county governments could extract their revenue from local property owners who had not been paying their annual tax assessment. Of course with the taxes being late, additional fees and penalties had been added by the county to the total amount due on each parcel. Even with all the fees and several years of back taxes due, the minimum bid for any of these properties started at a very small fraction of the appraised value of the property.
Back in Texas, where Peter had been raised, these tax auctions had once been commonly called Sheriff's Auctions. Some old timers there still called them that, but a few people with long memories had more colorful names for them. Most people these days, or at least those in polite company, were simply oblivious of their existence. In Texas each county had its own policies and procedures for when and how to escalate the issue to collect overdue property taxes. When someone failed to pay their property taxes for an extended period of time (how long the county waited before escalation was often decided by an official of that particular county), the elected county tax collector or county commissioner might assemble the required documents to file foreclosure lawsuits in the county court for the unpaid back taxes on several properties at the same time. Once the court issued the foreclosure orders, the county sheriff would then be charged by the county court judge with the job of seizing those properties for the county. It was then the job of the sheriff to oversee the auctioning of those properties so the county government could recover all the past due taxes, penalties, fees that the county government had assessed on the property, and also the court costs to the county. If the new owner, who successfully bought the property at the auction, filed a request with the local court for an eviction process to remove any previous residents who were reluctant to leave their home, then it fell to the sheriff's office, for another fee of course, to see that the previous residents were adequately encouraged to vacate the property. It didn't take a genius to understand that a system set up like that was chocked full of opportunities for the good old boys running the county government to exercise official discretion in ways that would prove financially or politically beneficial to themselves or their buddies.
Here in Pete's new home state the system was a bit more consistent and, hopefully, less open to abuse. State law was specific about the number of years that must pass without taxes being paid before the property could be declared delinquent. There was a state agency set up to manage and publicize the state prescribed process for dealing with the properties once that threshold was reached. All the qualified properties in a given county were bundled into a single auction event at a predetermined place and time, only once a year for each county. The only involvement of the county officials was to provide the public records about those properties to the state government and receive the taxes and fees owed on the property once the transactions and legal steps were completed. The information about each property and the process that was being followed was posted by the state well in advance of the auctions. This public notice process allowed potential buyers to research and compare multiple properties months in advance of the auction events. At any time, up until the process was completed, the owner could pay off the past due taxes and fees to remove their property from the auction list.
Peter had put a lot of time and effort into researching individual properties up for auction. There were literally well over a thousand auctioned off in the state each year. Most of them were were simply not the kind of property he wanted. He was not at all interested in any size lot that was inside a town or city; not even if it had a nice house already on it. He was looking for a few acres of land away from the towns and cities. If it had a house already on it that might or might not be an advantage to him. Honestly, Peter was reluctant to consider rural property if there was someone currently living there. Having to evict someone from their home in order to get a bargain on a piece of land just did not feel right to Pete.
Peter had spent countless hours in the last six months studying the official notices and performing his due diligence on the properties that he thought might serve his purposes. He had probably spent several hundred hours of research on the web using the local library's computers. He had spent still more days in various county courthouses since some counties had not yet made all their public land records available online. Peter had found several dozen parcels out of the hundreds listed this year that on paper looked like possibilities. He then spent days traveling to and actually finding each of the physical plots of land that interested him. The type of land Peter was looking for rarely had a physical address that was even marked on a rural mailbox. Some of the land parcels that interested him were in fact not even touching any public road. In some instances actually being able to set foot on the land proved to be a challenge with no public road access to the land and having to “navigate around” private fences and “posted” signs. Once he found the land, there was an additional challenge of determining where on the ground the probable property boundaries were located. To Peter it was important that he had taken the time to find the actual lands listed and carefully examine those sites in person.
In several instances he was very glad he had been so diligent. Some sites were afflicted with such glaring problems that it was very understandable for a reasonable person to simply let the ownership go back to the state rather than to continue paying taxes on unusable property. Other sites held a lot of potential, at least in Pete's opinion. Peter surmised that the current owners must have had some serious financial issues to be letting their taxes on that property lapse for so long.
The next step was to actually attend the auctions. The auction process was fairly simple and straight forward. Some counties had barely over a dozen people show up, one county had over one hundred registered bidders plus observers. After participating in the auctions for six different counties, however Peter was puzzled about the way the bidding had progressed on a number of these properties. He did not understand why the winning bids on virtually all the acreage properties reflected a price per acre that was just about the same. Why would someone pay that much for land they could not even use? He was also confused about why no one even offered the minimum bid for some residential properties with newly constructed houses, while there were numerous bidders for a number of lots with much older homes on them. Of course in some cases there just might not be enough people wanting a home in that particular location. Most people people looking for a home probably went to a real estate agent to find one, and they certainly would not point a buyer to an auction where their commission would be zilch.
The auctions this year had just not turned out like he had hoped. So far every property Peter had considered, even the ones he had considered and rejected as unusable, had been sold for much more than he could yet afford. Some of those had been put up for auction for only a few hundred dollars, but then had been sold for tens of thousands. Countless properties that did not meet his criteria sold for the prescribed minimum bid. As he sat there waiting for one more county auction to begin, he noticed two people, whose faces he recognized, enter the room chatting amiably together. The body language between the two was what first caught Peter's attention. They took seats immediately behind Peter and continued their conversation.
Peter recognized one of these people from several previous auctions as a man who was always bidding on any parcel than included more than an acre of land. The other person he recognized from her picture on this county's website as the elected tax assessor/collector. The conversation Peter was overhearing suddenly shed a fresh light on the auction dynamics. Peter did not remember her name but the tax assessor/collector was the first one he heard speaking.
“So Jake how is business this year? As good as last?”
“Yeah. In fact it's better. I was able to make enough doin' this business last year to be able to pick up a lot more more properties this year.”
“It must be a lot of work going all over the state checking out properties up for auction. So, how do you go about selecting which ones to bid on? What do you look for or try to avoid when you look at a property to make sure you can make your profit?”
Jake chuckled. “I don't even bother lookin' at the properties anymore.” he boasted. “I just bid on anything listed that has acres in the country. I've learned what I can get per acre by advertising on online subject websites, forums, and magazines. Once I have the title cleared I glance at a satellite map and then decide how to break it up and promote the pieces as homestead parcels, hunting lease parcels, or remote getaway sites in the woods. There are people out there with more money than sense who will plunk down the money sight unseen if you word the ad just right. I think some of them are afraid that all the land in the country is somehow going to be permanently gobbled up before they can get their tiny dream spot secured.”
“Seriously, Jake? Isn't that taking a big risk not even looking at it before you bid? I'm use to developers who examine the land, the zoning, the condition of buildings on the site, the state of the infrastructure, and the market in the area to calculate their potential costs and pricing carefully before bidding.”
“Sure they do, Samantha. Some guys are in the business of fixing up houses to prepare them for resale. Others are developers who try to buy land that they can develop for sale as residential or commercial properties. They have to be very careful because of the costs involved in getting their investments ready for market and the risks of market timing. Some of them are even borrowing money to buy the land in the first place, so they have to prove their plan to the banks. My market, however, is the impulse buyer. They're dreamers. Some dream of their own private hunting ground they can go to only once a year. Some dream of a place where they can get away to a cabin in the woods and pretend for a few weeks out of the year that they are not trapped in a high stress civilized lifestyle. Others want to run away from the cities forever, they think. They have little or no concept of due diligence, so why should I worry about that if they don't? If a buyer passes over one of my properties when they check it out more carefully, then I'm not worried. There will be someone out there who isn't careful and they will pay my price. This model saves me expenses and time. Time is money. Like I said. I'm doing better than last year, since I simplified my business model.”
Samantha was quietly pleased with what she had just learned. Her friendliness with some bidders like Jake, who showed up every year was paying off. What she had just learned was not exactly what she had hoped to hear, but now she knew what to look for in the properties Jake had bought last year. She was keeping an eye on these auctions, but not just to see what missed revenue would be recovered in the short term. Reassessment of selected, newly sold, and repurposed properties could help to gradually increase the county tax revenues without the cost to her office of sending appraisers out all over the county every few years. It also helped to know if the property was being bought by someone with influence in her county or her state so she could conserve her political capital by delaying reassessments on certain specific properties.
Just then the team from the state government started their prescribed announcements and explanations to get the auction process started. This was a formula like routine that they repeated in two or three counties per week from late spring to early fall each year. Peter had little time to ponder the conversation he had just heard as the auction process moved fairly quickly once it started. An hour and a half later Peter had been out bid, once again, on each one of the properties he had targeted in this county. This time, however, he was no longer surprised at the relatively high final bids on some trash acreage he had marked off his list as undesirable. Of course the final bids on all the properties that interested him were also just as high.
As Peter was driving back to his apartment in the town of Beaver Creek, he was praying and meditating on what he had learned. He had spent a lot of time and effort on this plan of his, yet right now it did not feel like he had wasted his time. Instead he felt like it had been a good learning experience. Now if he could just understand how to wisely apply what he had learned. One good thing about not finding “his land” this year was that he now had some time to save more money so he would be in a better position to bid next year.
Peter was enjoying the scenery as he drove. The hills and forests were so beautiful. The vistas of occasional meadows and streams seemed to refresh him deep inside. He was pondering the various parcels he had explored in the past few months. He rolled them over in his mind as he considered his tentative plans for building a home and sustaining himself off the land. Obviously the properties he had found and missed in the auctions this year were not going to be where he would finally settle. However, he could now see more clearly the need to adapt the details of the plans in his head to make them fit with the physical topography and features of whatever land he was able to acquire. The bigger question was, “How can I afford a piece of land like I need?”
His thoughts wandered here and there as he drew closer to his new temporary home in Beaver Creek. He was not going to be able to outbid Jake or people like him. So, how could he obtain a piece of land like he needed at a price he could afford? As he pondered this problem, countless bits of information found their way into and back out of his conscious thoughts. Several unexpected details in his memory began to interrupt his musings and finally started to coalesce in his head. Rather than trying to ride the auction system until he “got lucky” with no one outbidding him, he needed to take a short cut. Next year he would use the information provided by this system and plot his own acquisition path. He would try to preempt the state's auction system and acquire a desirable property before it ever went on the auction block. The information was posted months in advance. He just needed to make good use of that information early on, rather than lollygag around like everyone else who was waiting to take their chances at the scheduled auctions.
Three Years Earlier
Peter had to get away. He had told his “boss” that he needed a short vacation. He hadn't taken a real vacation in several years. Besides, his boss was technically not his employer, only his license supervisor, along with apparently being his client poacher. His “boss” had the power examine everything that Peter communicated with his client. He also had the power to terminate Peter's ability to work in this field at any time. Only an hour before Peter had discovered that his boss had taken an up and coming young licensee to visit a wealth potential client whose trust Peter had managed to cultivate. Together his “boss” and his young protegee representing the firm in Peter's absence, had presented a quick and convincing pitch to the client obtaining his signature on a financial instrument. That meant commissions for both the young protegee and Peter's boss. It also torpedoed the more comprehensive package Peter had been putting together for this new client. Of course Peter had been diligent in running the package structure past his “boss”, as he had been instructed, before presenting it to the client.
Two years before, while working for a different organization, Peter had been “cheated” out of credit for commissions on a really big package. Those commissions should have provide over two million dollars in income for Peter, spread over four years. Only two months later Peter had been “RIFed” by that organization. At least they had been gracious enough to transferred his license to a different firm, if he could find one quickly. This time it was his immediate “Boss” that he worked with everyday rather than a faceless corporate executive high up the food chain, who was stealing his work and income.
Peter had rushed home to toss some extra clothes and essentials into a well worn “carry-on” bag that had not been used for several years. On his way to put the bag in his Jeep another thought occurred to him. He threw the bag into the back seat of his Jeep and went back to his apartment. Digging into a closet he managed to find some of his rarely used camping gear. That was quickly and carelessly stuffed into a backpack. The laces of his hiking boots and a sleeping bag were quickly tied to the pack. Then he went to the kitchen. His bag of trail mix was getting low, but he could refill it on the way. What was left of a pack of water bottles along with the trail mix also went into the backpack. It wasn't a pretty packing job, but at this point Peter didn't give a ... care what it looked like. He locked the door and hauled the whole bundle out to the Jeep and threw it in the back hatch.
His compact tablet was in the glove box, and he plugged it into the charger cord. Now where? He was hungry so he went to a burger joint that he liked, not one of those national chains, where he knew he could connect to a Wifi network. When he got there and ordered a burger, he was almost tempted to get a beer, but knew that was a bad idea. He was not going to shed his frustration that way, especially since he was going to be driving himself … somewhere. He grabbed an empty booth and turned on his tablet while he waited for his burger. He needed to get away from the speeding treadmill. The air here was getting hard to breathe. He was surrounded by seven million people who were all trying to beat each other at a win lose game. In his musings about that endemic struggle he realized that all those competitors were making their own rules for that game of I need to win so you have to lose. With rules like that it became a net losing game for everyone.
Peter closed his eyes and exhaled as much as he could before taking a deep breath. “I need to seriously rethink some things,” he told himself. It took only a few seconds before the busy sounds in his favorite under-crowded burger joint began to crowd in on him raising his level of tension. “This is not what I want to do. This is not who I want to be. This is not where I want to be.” Peter's inner dialog was practically shouting in his own head to make itself heard over the cacophony of sounds surrounding him. He looked around and realized that this was a relatively quiet time here, before most of the evening customers usually arrived. He realized that there was more to his tension than just being betrayed again at his job.
Peter took his work seriously, and he considered his responsibilities to his clients very seriously. He paid close attention to economic, politics, and cultural trends because all of those could have big affects his his clients investments. He tried to watch all these influences and think objectively about the effects they might have on investments. He even spent time looking back in history to help him understand how trends of the past had impacted past economies. He was becoming increasingly uncomfortable about the trends in recent years and what they were pointing toward. As a matter of fact he was beginning to consider his knowledge of prophesy in Bible and wonder. Is this just one more cycle of the troubles that had occur in various places and times throughout history or could this be a build up to the “final troubles” predicted in the scriptures. He kept reminding himself of the cautions taught by his Bible professors years ago. All through the last two millennia there had been people in different countries and cultures who because of present troubles and turmoils thought “the end is finally coming.” They also seemed to love to refer to the statements in scripture warning that the end would come like a thief in the night and no man knows the day when that will happen. Right now Peter was thinking those professors seemed to miss that the intention clearly stated in scriptures for not giving the exact dates. It was not because the time had not been decided. The intention was always coupled with a warning to stay alert and stay ready. There were also some indicators of the signs to be recognized when that time is getting close.
Peter had been more focused in recent years on his job and his family, probably to the neglect of his 'spiritual needs'. Life can just get so busy sometimes. Life is tough and this is a dog eat dog kind of world we live in. He had not considered many of those unanswered questions he had raised years ago when he had been in seminary. One thing he was sure of was that he was not going to get those questions answered by going back to seminary. What he felt like doing to his boss right now was not legal and was bound to turn out badly. So, before anything else, he needed to get away for awhile, clear his head and figure out what to do next.
While he was sitting there chowing down on his burger he remembered how nice it had been a few years ago when he had a chance to use the lodge of an acquaintance who had a vacation place up in the Rockies. Then he remembered a short vacation trip he had taken years before through a region covered with forested hills. The pines there were of course green, but they were interspersed with an equal number of hardwoods. That earlier trp had been in the fall when the hardwoods were just starting to turn colorful. That trip had impressed him with the truly beautiful colors and contours of the land. When he had thrown some camping gear in his Jeep he had no more clear intentions than to get away from the city. But now he was remembering the few times he had been able to get out in the woods and hills with a longing that had been missing, or suppressed, for too long. Even when he was a youngster hiking through any patch of woods he could find had given him a sense of adventure and peace unlike anything else. He had too few memories of the amazing peace and well being he experienced from getting out in the woods and hills and hiking around. He pulled out his tablet and began searching for “+forest”, “+mountains”, and “+hiking trails”. Scanning quickly over the hits that came up he realized the nearest places he could find with all of these search keys were hundreds of miles away. “Well,” he thought, “I did say I needed to get away.”
Peter had been driving for several hours across prairie land. His map app on the tablet had presented him with a route leaning heavily on the interstate highways. Peter picked an alternate route that used more of the “U.S. Highways” or state highways. He made a point to find a stopping places to stretch his legs at least every two hours. He would not be able to do much hiking if he tried to prove how long he could sit in one place driving before he stopped to get gas. He was largely driving on autopilot while his mind was turning over countless ideas and thoughts. He tried the radio a few times, but finally gave up. It did not take long on the highway for a station's signal to fade and the music was interrupted too frequently with mindless blabbing of disc-jockeys or too many commercials.
The state line was behind him now, and it was still prairie land as far as he could see. He checked ahead on his map app to see what towns might be ahead where he could get something more to eat. Rather than the next big town, he decided to stop at a smaller one. He slowed down as the speed limit signs directed coming into the town. It was small enough that he had not heard its name before. There were a couple of gas stations on the highway, but he could tell most of the town was centered off the main highway. He pumped his gas paying with his debit card and walked into the small convenience store that all gas stations seemed to be attached to these days. He glanced around the store before walking over to the main counter.
There was a lady standing behind the register just watching. As Peter approached she asked, “what kin I do fer ya?”
“Well, if you don't mind my askin', I'm lookin' for a place to get somthin' ta eat.”
“We've got all kind of drinks and we have some hot snacks and hot dogs and such. Whatcha interested in?”
“No offense, darlin', but I was looking for a place where I could sit down for a real meal. 'Sthere someplace in town you like for that?”
“Jerry's is the only place here like that. They're not bad. Take a right two blocks north of here and it'll be on your left on into town. Just watch for the sign.”
“Thank ya, darlin'. I 'preciate it.”
“No problem, sweetie.”
As Peter made his way into town he chuckled at himself for having slipped into the small, rural town dialect without thinking about it. Even though he was in a different state now, the rural style was not that different. Most of his life had been spent in larger cities where speaking that way would have drawn immediate prejudice about his lack of – just about every desirable trait a human would need to succeed in the civilized world. He remembered growing up in a not so big town, near a larger city. When he was approaching adulthood and went up to the city, he learned very quickly that you had to talk the talk or you would be brushed aside.
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Post by kaijafon on Dec 7, 2019 20:22:19 GMT -6
well worth the wait... even if what I sneeked a peek at isn't yet there....
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Post by 9idrr on Dec 7, 2019 22:38:27 GMT -6
Well, pb, I'm more than happy to see what I hope'll be a hundred or so chapters.
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Post by texican on Dec 8, 2019 0:04:54 GMT -6
ppb,
Just where is Peter going to wind up?.?.?.?
Find a piece of property for sale by owner?.?.?.?
That is what we did....
Texican....
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Post by castleman on Dec 8, 2019 14:36:04 GMT -6
Good start, nice read.
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remembergoliad
Member
if you send friend req on FB, message me too. I won't accept if I don't recognize you.
Posts: 158
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Post by remembergoliad on Dec 8, 2019 20:34:25 GMT -6
Why'd ya stop? ROFL ....Looks like the start of another good one
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Post by pbbrown0 on Dec 10, 2019 1:59:39 GMT -6
Post #02
Breaking Away As he sat eating his meal, Peter checked the map on his tablet again. He wanted to get a few hours farther along the highway before he stopped for the night. He would find a motel then, nearer where he was wanting to go. In the morning he could plan his get away in more detail. It was dark by the time he got to the next big town. Peter was tired and pulled up to the entrance of a motel. The brightly lit sign identified it as being connected with one of the major motel chains. He checked in and dragged his case into his assigned room. He wasted no time in getting out of his travel clothes and into bed. It was the sunlight sneaking around the edges of the heavy curtains that woke him the next morning. Peter got up and got a quick shower before making his way to the motel's reception area. He saw they had jumped on the trend for providing a “free hot breakfast”, but not everything was out for consumption yet. He got a cup of coffee and an apple then sat down with his tablet to wait for more substantial food. By the time he had figured out his plan for the day their full spread was out and ready for the patrons. It might not be the best quality, certainly not as good as home cooked, but it was free and convenient. Soon he was on the road again, and there were growing signs of woodland geography among the farmlands. The plains were also showing signs of rolling more rather than being a flat as the terrain more familiar to Pete. With the changing scenery Peter was finding the drive time to be less tedious and monotonous. It was still far too early for any fall color, but there were no signs of the late summer drying out the fields that he was accustomed to seeing back in Texas. The right of way along both sides of the highway was now lined with a tall but shallow band of trees. If he tried he could see cultivated fields behind the barrier of trees, but this whole area must have been forested at some time in the past. With every mile Peter's mood was feeling more lifted. The betrayals that had him enraged only twenty-four hours before had, at least temporarily, been forgotten already. Before long Peter was in yet another state taking a state road off the main highway. He was getting closer to a national forest and the terrain was steadily changing. The roads were narrower and beginning to wind up and down hills. To Peter it was more thrilling than the roller coaster ride at the Texas State Fair. To him the tall thick trees crowding the roadway were breathtaking. The term paradise kept coming into to his mind. He kept checking his tablet map where he had a Ranger station marked inside this end of the forest. He expected he could find more information there. He rounded another curve at the top of a hill and suddenly stopped. He pulled of onto a widened gravel turnout so he was off the roadway and climbed out of his Jeep. There to the north he could see row after row of forested hills and mountains for miles and miles in every direction. He simply stood in awe of the beautiful vista before him. “My God in heaven,” he prayed silently inside his head and heart. “What have I been pursuing so desperately? How did I get so tangled up chasing the wrong things? This is a treasure beyond anything I could find in any career or luxury home in a city. This is so beautiful. Help me find my way, dear God. Help me get my head and heart straightened out before it is too late, please.” For the next several days Peter spent time in the forest and in small towns near it. He talked to people in cafes and stores. He talked to a couple of forest rangers, too. He managed to get some time in hiking through the forest, following marked trails and straying a bit off the trails. By the time he decided to return home, he had made up his mind. It was time to make a sharp turn in his life. On the way home he found a talk/news radio station with a strong signal and thought he might catch up on what was happening in the world. He hadn't been out of touch this long at anytime he could remember. The news and information on the radio seemed like it was just more and more of the same. The same politics were being repeated over and over with only the names having been changed. It was the same, ever-conflicting news about economic trends, forecasts, and conundrums. The same discord and divisions discord were being sustained among one group after another with no resolution and no easing of tensions. The same efforts to fix the problems that had failed before were being tried again under a new name. The same analysis of bad news being spun as hopeful news and hopeful news being spun as full of uncertainties was being regurgitated as if it was fresh insight on new events. The same commercial sales pitches about things you must buy in order to be comfortable and happy with your life were being broadcast over and over to sponsor the same old “news”. After an hour and a half of listening to the news and commentaries he turned it off and shook his head. Peter mused about how conspiracy theorists were so ridiculed and scoffed. Sure, they were sometimes overly zealous in talking about their personal conclusions. Usually they had pieced together, with the help of others, a path of breadcrumbs leading to this group or that group who were trying to manipulate and control where the world was going. The irony was that whether they were precisely right or wrong in how they had assembled their scenarios, they were still fundamentally correct. People with power and influence were always seeking more power and influence. That is precisely how they obtained and maintained their power and influence. Most people, however, don't want to hear or think about that, because it makes them feel powerless and insignificant. People want to feel significant even if it that feeling is a delusion. People need to feel like they can get to something better, so their life doesn't seem futile and hopeless. Peter understood all this, but he also understood that the powerful and influential were deluded by their own arrogance. There were countless analogies available to illustrate the fallacies of their thinking. One popular illustration was that of a balloon going up. If it was filled too tight before it was released it would pop. On the other hand once you let it go it would rise higher into the thin atmosphere until the imbalance of internal and external pressures would burst the thin membrane holding it together. Either way, sooner or later, the pretty toy would be destroyed. The efforts of the power mongers would be self defeating, but everyone would pay the price for their folly. Peter was an analytical thinker. He was never content to simply accept on faith what someone else told him. Even if they sounded like they were making sense, he still had to break it down and put it back together to be sure it made sense to him before he would accept it. No matter how it was sliced and diced the pieces he was being fed in the news and in the “marketplace” just would not fit together with a favorable outcome. In his pondering during this vacation he had decided he needed a serious course correction, unless he wanted to be devastated when the balloon finally popped. He had been hammered enough already, and he did not relish the idea of being totally smashed and shattered. While visiting several small towns surrounding the forest, he had gotten a comfortable feeling in one of them with the quaint name of Beaver Creek. It wasn't that tiny in his view. It was only half the size of the “small town” back in Texas where Peter had lived as a boy. It was in an agricultural valley area just outside the national forest. That really meant that many years before, the area where the town was located had been stripped of trees to make room for some farming or cattle raising. The “national forest” designation had been imposed on the more rugged less farm-able land to prevent it from being totally stripped of trees. The government had realized back between the world wars that it just would not work well for the country to suddenly run out of lumber for construction in another thirty years. Besides the good feelings Peter sensed from his interaction with a few people in Beaver Creek, it seemed like a good location for starting over on his new path. If, or more likely when, the balloon went up and things started getting really bad like Peter expected, this was likely to be a place that would be overlooked at the beginning of the collapse. It was at the crossroads of a county road that led into the forest and a state road skirting part of the outer edge of the forest. That state road had long ago had been used to roughly define part of the outer border of the national forest. That state road probably followed an old wagon trail that stretched for a couple of hundred miles between frontier outposts of a century and a half before. About the only traffic on it today were trucks hauling goods directly to the small towns dotted along the state road and the few cars and pickup trucks going to and from those same little towns. Decades before, the Interstate Highway route crossing the state had been directed around the far side of the national forest. Peter's plan was gradually forming in his head as he drove back toward his home in Texas. His former plans to work toward a comfortable retirement had been undermined, torpedoed, derailed, and devastated time after time. He had finally realized he had been working under false assumptions about retirement for too many years. He felt bad for all that advise he had given others about their retirement plans, but that is what you get when you listen to false propaganda year after year. When you go to a casino looking to strike it rich, it is very important to remember the number one rule. “The house wins.” The only way to not be bound by their rule number one is to not play their game in their house. Peter was returning home without any job prospects up in Beaver Creek, but he had no interest in staying with his old job or pursuing the myriad job prospects where he lived in the city. He was going to make a clean break. As he thought about that idea of a clean break he was reminded of how thoroughly the techno-social-economy was able to track your every move. One of his former careers had helped him understand just how thoroughly all those new conveniences were exploited without most people realizing what was happening. It was not just about the government 'monitoring communications to catch terrorists'. Even the operating systems for phones and computers were now watching every move people made, both online and off line, waiting for the highest bidder to exploit the gathered information. Peter's first steps in breaking away were not motivated merely by a paranoia, nor by his technical knowledge of the potential control and influence that could come from the endemic level of data mining that was going on. His moves were also intentionally symbolic of his choosing to make a total change toward a new way of life. He was NOT going to play by house rules anymore. When he got back home he did not inform his boss that he was quitting. Peter simply did not show up for work as usual. His contract with his supervisor's firm included nothing requiring action on his part regarding a separation notice. The only reference affecting him was a prohibition against poaching clients or their information if he sought a position with a different regulated financial firm. The first move Peter made was to lease a Post Office box. He filled out a change of address card with the post office pointing to his new P.O. Box, and notified his bank of the new mailing/billing address. He also bought a special debit card, with cash, that was not not connected to his bank. This card would allow future direct deposits to his new card account using the new P.O. Box billing address. This would allow him to conduct online transactions after his old bank account was closed. The first transaction on his new debit card was to buy a bus ticket to the new state where he had decided to make his home. Then Peter checked online and set up a new account with an aftermarket mobile phone service carrier and ordered a very cheap “dumb phone” to use with the service. He did this also with his new debit card. Over the next month and a half he began emptying his bank account, converting it to cash, and then loading his new debit card. He did this gradually so it would not trigger a report or flag to the banking regulators as suspicious activity. That wasn't so hard to do since Peter's bank balance was already down to a level that he considered abysmal. Peter also went to work going through his possessions, including what was in the storage closet provided by his apartment complex. Much of what he had went into the category of 'never going to use it again'. That stuff he gave away or carried to a local charity's thrift store. Some items went into his largest back pack. The rest of his truly useful items, including selected clothes, he boxed up in discrete packages with coded labels. He had a very, very long talk with his son, Robert, one Saturday night, about his plan and his reasoning. He also made arrangements for his son to ship those coded boxes to him after he established a new address. He also gave his son the key to his new P.O. Box and the information about renewing the lease. He also made plans to sell his Jeep and deposit the check from that sale in his bank account. Robert agreed to use Peter's old debit card to gradually transfer the cash out of his father's bank account and mail the cash to him a little at a time. Finally Peter was packed and ready to go, so he went to Robert's house again to drop off his back pack. Next he drove to a Jeep dealership and sold his Jeep. He called a taxi, since his dumb phone would not connect with an app to get him a cheaper ride, to take him to his bank. He had the taxi driver take him to the drive thru tellers so he could deposit the check from the car dealer in his bank account. Next he went to Robert's house and handed over his bank debit card to his son along with the pin number. While Robert drove him to the bus station, Peter was talking to his son one more time about what he was doing and why his son should give it serious consideration for himself and his family. When Peter arrived at the bus station people were already starting to board the bus. He checked in his backpack as luggage and turned to wave before his son drove away. Peter was silently praying that Robert would take his recommendations seriously and come join him before long. It was not easy making this break knowing the uncertainty of when he would see his family again. All the activities of getting ready for his break from his past life were now behind him. Sitting on the bus in a narrow seat, Peter and being unable to do anything more to pursue his new goals for the next ten hours was a sharp contrast from the last six weeks. The weight of Peter's decision was starting to press down on him. The bus ride was tediously long and boring. For hours and hours his view was limited, matching the unchanging scenery. Peter was besieged by second thoughts and concerns about his family. During that trip he was, once again able to gain some clarity about his intentions and his strategy. Fortunately the bus did make some scheduled stops every couple of hours at either a bus stop or a large convenience store along the highway. This allowed the passengers a chance to stretch, take a quick break, or grab some fast food. As the journey continued the number of passengers was slowly dwindling. Eventually Peter was able to take a vacant seat at the front on the top deck so he could see more of the surroundings. Finally just about dusk they arrived at a bus stop in the capital city of the state Peter had chosen for his new home. He had made a reservation in advance at a nearby motel, so he retrieved his back pack and headed out on foot to settle in for the night. The next morning he was up early to get his breakfast and pick up a bicycle and bike cargo trailer he had ordered for delivery to a nearby big box store. He unboxed and assembled the bike and bike cargo trailer on the parking lot of the store. While there he also bought some supplies for his trip before riding back to his motel. In almost no time he had loaded his back pack into the trailer and checked out of the hotel. The next leg of his trip was going to be just over one hundred and fifty miles. He had decided in advance to take his time and not push too hard. He was in decent physical condition, but was not an avid cyclist. He was prepared to camp out multiple nights if necessary as he made his way to and through the national forest. As it turned out Peter was glad he had allowed more time than he thought he would need for this bike trek. He had not accounted for the fact that most of his trip would include biking up and down hills and ascending to a higher elevation. Beaver Creek was nearly a thousand feet above the elevation of the capital. Most of the forest was at even higher elevations, and Peter had simply not conditioned himself for that kind of rigorous cycling. On the upside of this adventure was the feeling of elation if gave Peter to be taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the forest as he made his way along the virtually empty roads through the forest. He did learn a lesson about reading the online maps on his tablet. He had downloaded the map of his route before leaving the motel in the capital, since he would be away from any wifi connections for a while. The route through the forest he had chosen actually included a gravel road paved with coarse crushed rock. It was virtually impossible to negotiate on bicycle even with trail bike never flat tires. After a detour to a ranger station, he was able to get a more detailed topographic map of this district of the forest and talk to a ranger about the public and service roads traversing the forest. It was nearly a week after leaving the bus before he reached Beaver Creek. The first order of business there was to get a room with a bed at “the” local motel. It was a bit crowded with his new bike and trailer in the small room, but he was not willing to trust a padlock on a chain outside a motel overnight. The next morning Peter went to a local cafe he had found on his previous visit to get some breakfast. The local motel owner was smart enough to not mimic the national chains with their 'free hot breakfast' claims. Rudy, the local cafe owner, was his good friend and he knew what a real hot breakfast entailed. Peter was thoroughly savoring his 'home cooked' breakfast after nearly a week of thrown together camp-out food. He was sincerely complementary to the waitress/cashier. “Darlin' tell Rudy for me that this is the best breakfast I have had in a month of Sundays,” Peter commented as she was refilling his cup of coffee. “By the way this coffee is perfect, too.” “Aw, sweetie. That is so nice of you to say. It feels like I've seen you in here before, but I can't recall your name. Who kin I tell Rudy likes our home-style cookin' so well?” “My name's Peter Smith. You kin call me Pete. I'm new in town and lookin' for a place to park myself for a while. If you hear of someone with a spare room, I'd appreciate your lettin' me know, because I'll be back here again for sure.” A few minutes later Pete was paying for his meal when the waitress/cashier asked him. “Where ya working, Mr. Pete. If we hear of a place you might stay, we wouldn't want to have you wait until you pay for another meal here to let you know about it.” “Now you're the one who is being awfully kind. I'm fixin' ta go lookin' for a job around here as soon as I settle my bill with you. For now I'm staying at the motel, but I can't keep that up long term.” “Pete, I don't mean to pry, but now I am curious. You seem like a nice kind of person. I'd probably know it if you were from around here. What in the world brings you this far out from – well, most everything if you don't have a job here, if you don't mind my askin' ?” Pete paused then gave a slight grin. “I don't mind your askin', but that's not the kind of thing I'd be talking about unless it was with a friend.” He gave her a coy smile. “I hope you or your husband won't think me too forward to ask your name 'fore I answer that question, friend to friend.” Now Pete was smiling with amusement. “Okay, Mr. Pete. Either you are a slick talker or you are a decent fella, and my guess is you're a decent fella. I'm Gladys, Rudy's wife. Nice to meet you Pete.” “Nice to meet you, too Gladys. Honestly, I like the scenery. I decided to get out of the rat race and plant some roots in the real world. I was through here recently and decided I like it here. So, I came back.” Gladys looked at Pete holding his gaze for a moment. “So, what kind a work are you lookin' for, Pete?” “Just about anything. I'm not looking to get rich quick. I just want an honest days pay for an honest days work.” “You might try talkin' to Harry down at the farm supply store. You can tell him Rudy and Gladys sent you.” “Thank you, Gladys. I really 'preciate that. Tell Rudy 'thanks', too. I'll see you later and I'd like to meet Rudy before long if he isn't too busy.” Harry agreed to give Pete couple or three days of work over the next week at minimum wage, but that was all he would promise. Pete had paid in advance for another night at the motel, so he was able to work straight through until closing time at the farm supply store. Most of the work was helping customers load purchases like bags of feed or tools and equipment in the back of their pick up trucks. By the end of the day Pete was feeling the fatigue. He headed to the motel to get cleaned up before supper. When he got to Rudy's there was a larger crowd than there had been for breakfast. Gladys was keeping busy running tables and the register, but Rudy was out of sight. Pete surmised he too was was probably working like a one-armed paperhanger back in the kitchen. When Gladys came to take his order, she mentioned to Pete that when things quieted down, Rudy wanted to talk with him, if he didn't mind hangin' around a bit after he ate. Pete replied that he had no where better to go, so that would be fine. Pete took his time and even had desert and coffee after his meal. He was hungry after a full day of work. He also realized he had worked straight through lunch time. The fried chicken was perfect and the peach pie afterwards was beyond perfect. The crowd was thinning out now and Rudy, Pete assumed, came out of the kitchen as he was taking off his apron. He walked straight over to Pete and stuck out a hand that was half again the width of Pete's. “Rudy Lingelbach, I assume you're Pete Smith. Sorry it took so long. We had a good group this even'.” “No need to apologize, Rudy,” Pete replied with his handshake. “ You have a business to run and it takes a lot of work. I just appreciate your taking time to say hello.” Rudy smiled back at Pete. “Sit down a minute. Let's talk.” Rudy repeated some of the conversation Pete had with Gladys earlier. He also asked how his job hunting had gone. After a few minutes of conversation Rudy shifted the direction he was taking. “Pete, I don't really know you, but Gladys and I both are liking what we're seeing. I know of a place that you might stay for a short time, but there are always risks taking on tenants that you don't already know.” “I understand that, Rudy, and I appreciate your even considering me. I need to tell you up front that I can't afford a lot and I can't be sure yet how long I can stay. I got some work at the farm supply store, but there is no guarantee it will last beyond a week.” “Pete do you smoke?” “No.” “Not anything?” Pete chuckled. “No, not anything.” He grinned. “Do you drink?” Pete paused. “I live alone, Rudy, and it's a bad idea to drink alone. I sure don't go in for party drinking either. Is that good enough for you?” He looked Rudy in the eye. “Do you do any drugs – at all?” “Not even prescriptions from a dentist for a toothache.” Pete tipped his head and kept a steady gaze into Rudy's eyes. “Are you house broke?” “For as long as I can remember and that goes waaaaaay back,” Pete replied with a grin. “How much stuff do you have to move into a place once you find one?” “Just the bicycle I rode into town and a what I could pack into a small bicycle trailer I was towing behind me.” “Where exactly did you ride in from?” Rudy's eyes narrowed. Here Pete paused again and took a breath. “I rode the bicycle all the way from the capital...after I rode a bus from Texas.” Rudy's eyes grew larger for a moment as he tipped his head slightly to the side. He straightened his head and looked more serious before his next question. “Have you learned how to keep it in your pants?” Rudy's stare was rock solid. Even though he was surprised, Pete's stare was steady as he considered Rudy's question. “Rudy, I am going to have to answer that assuming you are asking me as a friend, because if you're not I would have to take offense at that question. My answer is 'Yes'. I'm no longer a child, and I no longer play childish games. I have not played those particular kinds of games in many, many years and I have no intention of letting those kinds of childish games cause trouble for me or anyone that matters to me, ever again. Does that answer your question?” A hint of a smile touched Rudy's face. “Good answer Pete. Give me a couple of nights and I may be able to get you out of Sam's motel.” Rudy got up and shook Pete's hand again, this time a little more firmly than the last. He left Pete siting there with a curious look on his face. Pete was puzzled about the line of questioning and Rudy's style, but apparently Rudy was pleased. Two days later at breakfast Rudy came out from the kitchen to talk with Pete as he set a breakfast plate down for Pete. “If you can get Sam to hold your stuff until after work today, I can get you into a room just right after the supper crowd. It will be $75 a week for one bedroom and a bath. The utilities will be paid. There is a window air conditioner and a heater if you stay that long. There is also a bed, a night stand, a small desk, and a chair. It has an outside door, and you will consider me your land lord. Also there are no doors from your room to the rest of the house and you need to be careful to have no contact with the person living in the other portions of the house. We can do this one week at a time until you can commit to more or you find a better place. Will that work for you?” Pete blinked a couple of times before he stood to shake Rudy's hand. “Thank you, Rudy. Thank you very much!”
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Post by smitty60 on Dec 10, 2019 7:50:04 GMT -6
Wow,long chapter. Thanks
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Post by 9idrr on Dec 10, 2019 21:25:16 GMT -6
Why do I think that Rudy may have more than one test lined up to determine Pete's intentions?
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Post by misterjimbo on Dec 10, 2019 21:31:06 GMT -6
"Also there are no doors from your room to the rest of the house and you need to be careful to have no contact with the person living in the other portions of the house."
This really does make for an interesting hook.
But that is OK as I don't mind being hooked to literature with such great potential and good BS.
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Post by kaijafon on Dec 11, 2019 20:20:18 GMT -6
really good chapter!!!
Sorry folks, I've not been able to peek anymore at any of his NEWEST additions...
... I tried... kinda
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Post by papaof2 on Dec 11, 2019 20:51:04 GMT -6
really good chapter!!! Sorry folks, I've not been able to peek anymore at any of his NEWEST additions... ... I tried... kinda You need to learn stealth hacking via network, so you can be "working on your website" but actually exploring his computer and reading everything there. I'm sure you can find some information on file-sharing on youtube and lots more good stuff on the Dark Web. And there are online classes in "white hat" hacking which is just a keystroke or two from truly useful hacking ;-)
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Post by texican on Dec 11, 2019 23:43:52 GMT -6
ppb,
Seems like there is a younger female Linglebachor or niece in the picture....
Only additional chapters will reveal....
As to keeping it in your pants, sooner or later you have to take it out or your pants will get wet....
Texican....
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Post by kaijafon on Dec 13, 2019 5:46:08 GMT -6
really good chapter!!! Sorry folks, I've not been able to peek anymore at any of his NEWEST additions... ... I tried... kinda You need to learn stealth hacking via network, so you can be "working on your website" but actually exploring his computer and reading everything there. I'm sure you can find some information on file-sharing on youtube and lots more good stuff on the Dark Web. And there are online classes in "white hat" hacking which is just a keystroke or two from truly useful hacking ;-) hahaha! Hubby is the expert in all things computer I'm just a biology teacher
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Post by papaof2 on Dec 13, 2019 11:55:30 GMT -6
You need to learn stealth hacking via network, so you can be "working on your website" but actually exploring his computer and reading everything there. I'm sure you can find some information on file-sharing on youtube and lots more good stuff on the Dark Web. And there are online classes in "white hat" hacking which is just a keystroke or two from truly useful hacking ;-) hahaha! Hubby is the expert in all things computer I'm just a biology teacher Biology = high school = teenagers = young hackers = solution!
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Post by ydderf on Dec 13, 2019 12:00:50 GMT -6
Thank you for sharing
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Post by pbbrown0 on Dec 14, 2019 13:12:45 GMT -6
Post #3
Deeper Into The Shadows Pete had been curious about some of Rudy's conditions and his manner regarding the room, but the arrangements were pretty clear, and Rudy just seemed like an honest, down to earth man. When Rudy took Pete to show him the room, it was clear that someone lived in the rest of the relatively small house. There was a place on the wall in Pete's room, where it looked like a doorway had been replaced with fresh gypsum board and recently painted over. Pete could not contain his curiosity. “Rudy it may be none of my business and it isn't really a problem, but may I ask about your concerns for me avoiding contact with whoever lives in the main part of this house? I want to honor your wishes. I'm just not use to being cautioned like that.” Rudy had a serious look on his face. “Pete, you seem decent, but that is just a first impression, since Gladys and I only met you a few days ago. You know this world is full of troubles. I have a sister who owns this house. The rent for the room will be a big help to her, but I simply need to take precautions to protect her.” “I kin understand that, Rudy. You have my word. You will not have any problems about that on my account. Thank you again for helping me. I do appreciate your help.” Harry was pleased with the way Pete worked hard and was always looking for ways to help out rather than standing around waiting for someone to tell him what to do. Before the end of the week Harry had asked Pete if he would like to stay on and work thirty hours or maybe a just a few more per week. Pete knew without asking there wouldn't be any 'benefits' included and it was only a minimum wage job. Pete agreed to take the job and to take his pay in cash if Harry would write out a paper pay stub showing taxes withheld. Pete went ahead and told Rudy that he could take the room on a week to week basis now until he could save enough to pay month a month in advance. He actually had money to pay in advance, but his reserve was very thin for completely starting over in a new place like he was doing here. Pete figured that his pay would leave him a little over $100 per week after taxes and paying rent. He wouldn't be able to buy all his meals at the cafe, but he could picked up a hot plate and a cast iron skillet at the farm store. That way he would be able to buy some groceries and cook for himself. He asked Rudy to write out a rent receipt for the room, so he could have proof of residency. Pete began corresponding with his son, Robert, using snail mail. His email account had been set up many years before and there were countless accounts of various kinds that had requested his email address for communicating with him and allowing him to easily “login” to their own system. When he decided to “cut loose” from his old life he left all that behind, and he did not want to risk establishing a pattern of communications with his son that could be easily traced and analyzed. It did not sway him that most people would consider this paranoid. He simply knew enough from his work for some former employers just how powerful the monitoring and analyzing algorithms could be. “What most people thought” was shaped and skewed by their ignorance and conditioning. If some one was diligent and focused they still could connect the dots about his preferences and financial activities. His intention here was to stay unnoticed. He had no desire for anyone with an agenda to find any reason to flag his activities and interests as troublesome or even out of the ordinary. He was very intent on obeying the laws, but he had no desire to remain politically and financially correct. It was still possible that the post office records could be hacked and used to perhaps find a pattern of hand written letters between sent between two addresses, but at least one of those addresses would need to have drawn some kind of attention for that to be of interest. Pete was going to need to gradually move the cash from selling his Jeep out of his old bank. Eventually he would also get an income tax refund deposited there as well. His son would be making very small ATM withdrawals and mailing the equivalent cash to Peter over a period of months. If any cash was stolen in the mail, which was supposed to be the reason the public was encouraged not to send cash through the mail, they could easily stop for a couple of months. Later they could either pick it back up or find a different avenue for passing Pete's money to him. Pete learned that Beaver Creek had a small public library. The staff there were mostly volunteers and the selection of books was not great, but they did have two donated computers that could be used to look up information on the internet. Pete used those quite often to research things he wanted to learn about self sustaining practices in a forest setting. There was a lot to learn and to sift through. So many resources on the internet were too brief and included too many untested opinions pretending to be facts rather than reliable information. As for so called reliable sources there were far too many 'reliable' mega-agricultural techniques that were totally unsustainable on a small scale. Pete soon realized it would take more than just reading with discernment to learn how raise enough to feed himself and possibly a few others in the forest. Pete settled in to his pattern of working, living frugally and studying when he could. Much of what he left packaged at Robert's place was not urgently needed. He wanted to avoid a flurry of packages being send from his son to his new address so that was working out for the best, too. It wasn't long before Pete found himself wanting a break from the intense regimen of filling every minute he could at the tiny library, so he was taking some time out to bike into the nearby forest. After a couple of months he was looking for something else to fill some of his time. The bicycle only allowed him a limited number of options for exploring the forest in the short spells of time off from work that were available to him. After a couple of months he was able to pick up a few extra hours of work at the grocery store. The owner there was glad he could find another part-time worker rather than paying others overtime wages to clean and restock after hours. An Encounter With Ruben Meanwhile, Pete was plugging away at his jobs, living frugally, and trying to add to his savings. Being there in a small town he was getting acquainted with a few people. Some were very nice, and a few others were just not drawing Pete toward developing any close friendship with them. Ruben Sanchez, a younger man working with him at the farm store, was a friendly sort of fella and would talk with Pete occasionally on their breaks. He had made an impression on Pete as a hard worker and a decent person. One evening when Pete was cleaning up after his supper, there was a knock at his door. When he opened the door, Ruben was standing there. “Hi, Pete, I know you weren't expecting me, and I don't want to take up a lot of your time if you're busy, but I do want to ask you about something you mentioned.” “Okay, Ruben. Do you want to come in and talk a minute?” “Oh, thank you, Pete. This will only take a minute.” Pete led Ruben in and offered him the chair at his desk while Pete sat on the edge of his bed. “What's on your mind, Ruben?” “Pete, when we were talking about something in the news yesterday you made a comment that somehow sounded familiar to me. I did some digging and found out why it sounded so familiar. Your comment was...well it was almost a paraphrase of something that I found written in the bible. Pete, have you studied the bible at some time in the past or maybe more recently, or was your wording just a coincidence?” Pete thought a moment and could not remember what comment might have prompted this. “Ruben, I'm not sure what comment you're referring to, but in the past I did study the bible quite a lot. I'm not too surprised that a comment I made might have sounded like it came from the bible. I've tried to let it guide my thinking. The truth is I eventually got frustrated for quite a spell, because I didn't see eye to eye with my teachers on what it actually meant in a number of places. When I tried to talk about those differences, I was either dismissed or they became rather insistent that I accept their interpretations and simply drop my mistaken ideas. What the bible really says is important to me, but I don't like the kind of debates some folks get into when they interpret it in different ways. Because of that I haven't exactly been going to church regularly for some time now, if that is where this is leading.” Ruben paused a bit before going on. “Pete, I can identify with what you said about not always seeing eye to eye with what some other folks say the bible is telling us. I also believe that it is important for us to understand what it is telling us and to let it guide our thinking. I personally believe it should be the guide for the choices we make every day. I'm part of a small congregation here in Beaver Creek. We don't have a preacher, but we do get together every Sunday to have a bible study. One or another of our brothers of course leads the study, but everyone is encouraged to participate and respectfully share their insights on the lesson during the study. I would really like for you to come and visit. I think you might like it.” “Well, Ruben, I appreciate your asking. I might do that, but, let me think about it.” “That's fine, Pete. You'll be welcome if you choose to come, but there is no pressure. I'll see you at the store tomorrow. You have a nice evening.” With that Ruben was gone. After Ruben left Pete was tossing around in his head what Ruben had said. Pete considered himself a Christian, but he had studied enough to know that a fair amount of what he believed was not considered orthodox teachings by most others who identified themselves as Christians. He appreciated that Ruben had thought enough to extended an invitation. He liked Ruben enough to think they might turn out as friends some day before long. Pete just did not want to open himself up again to endless arguments about what he believed. He had dealt with too many people already who were determined to “straighten out his thinking” about what the bible was really saying. Those differences were a big influence on him choosing to not attend church and him keeping his faith so private, now. Right now he was in a lonely place with his faith and he knew that needed to change. - - - - - - - - - - “Rob, what's wrong? You don't seem yourself lately. I saw the another letter came from your Dad today. Is that what's bothering you?” Jennifer was setting the table for dinner while Robert was pulling a casserole out of the oven. “Well, no and yes. I'm sorry Jenny. I don't want to put a rain cloud over you. You always feel like such a ray of sunshine for me, every time I look at you. You are such a treasure. I've just been thinking too much since – well since even before Dad dropped that bombshell. It's just the usual stuff, trying to keep the wolves away from the door. Speaking of hungry wolves, isn't it time for Carl to be getting home. It is Bruce and Linda's day to bring the kids home from after school practices, right?” “Yeah. Don't worry, Rob. The season is almost over and the coaches are anxious to win their last two games. Lisa is in the band and the band director is trying to get them ready for contest, but still having to put on a halftime show every week. I think they are all pushing the scheduled times to get just a little more work out of the kids.” “Huh, I guess that's one way to get them ready for the 'real world' . Push them to work harder on their school activities, since they are spoon feeding them their grades. I was asking Carl about how he is getting such good grades when he never studies at home. Did you know the teachers give them study sheets before every test. That basically gives them every question and answer on the test, and nothing else? It wasn't that way it was when we were in school.” Jenny giggled as she folded her apron. “Rob, you are starting to sound more and more like 'your old man'.” She took a more serious tone before continuing. “The teachers are being told to do that so the schools can keep their statistics up. I would hate to be a teacher these days. The system has them all balled up in knots with being told how to follow this agenda and that process. It seems to be that way so someone higher up the food chain can justify their amazing contribution to improvements in the education system. It has gotten so bad that the teachers can't even teach the basics anymore.” “So, Jenny, tell me. How do you really feel about that?” Rob was not doing a very good job of hiding his smirk. Within moments his own expression grew more somber. “Jenny, Carl is not getting the education he needs. I don't know how things are in colleges these days, but the same schools that are getting sloppy with how they are educating or kids are still telling the students that they need to go to college to make a good living. How can that work unless the colleges are dumbing down their minimum requirements too?” Rob was scowling now. “Rob, I hate to see you getting stressed by so many things. Carl is a smart boy. Things will work out. They always do.” Rob noticed the gentle smile on Jenny's face and gave her a hug. “See, That's what I'm talking about. No matter what is troubling me, you are always there to bring me some sunshine.” “So what's the news from your Dad, sweetie? Is he doing okay?”'' “I guess. He found work and a place to stay. He wants me to trickle his money from selling his car up to him. He is being pretty particular about this clandestine style separation from his old financial dealings. When he explains his reasoning for each step, it makes sense, but it just feels weird and inconvenient needing to be so careful and deliberate. I guess I'll do it the way he wants. He's done so much for us, it seems like the least we can do for him. Say, speaking of Bruce and Linda, how about we invite them over Saturday evening. I could grill something for supper so you won't have to cook. That new movie just came out on DVD and we can watch it together here. The kids don't have any school events scheduled for Saturday do they?” “No, not this Saturday, but if you really expect them to join us, we need to tell them tonight before they try to plan something with their friends. I'll call Linda after we clean up from supper. Oh, Hi Carl, how was practice?” “Hi, Mom, Dad. It was okay. The coaches are getting pretty wound up about the game Friday. You'd think it was a Bowl game or somethin'. What's for supper?” “It's King Ranch Casserole. And we have some blackberry cobbler for desert.” “Awesome. I'll wash up and be back in a jiff.” - - - - - - - Pete was determined to save as much money as he could. In the first couple of months it wasn't as easy as he hoped because he was still getting set up. He had bought a hot plate and started to buy a cast iron skillet, Then he thought a little more and decided to get a cast iron skillet/dutch oven combination set so he had more options. He also remembered he did not have a refrigerator so he had to shop around for small one that would function well for his needs. It was a challenge to find things he needed rather than things that would very be convenient. He found that his decision to significantly change his lifestyle and direction was requiring more adjustments in his thinking and perspective than he had anticipated. Pete still had a small cushion of savings, but he knew it was important to protect that since his goal was to buy some land and build a house on it. The slings and arrows of outrageous fortunes, combined with a complex system designed to siphon and capture every penny possible out of people's income and savings, had somehow 'conspired' together quite successfully in Pete's life. At the end of the first month in Beaver Creek he had only saved one hundred dollars. Projecting that into the future did not paint a pretty picture for Pete's plans. The extra work in the evenings at the grocery store would help with that. It would also help when Pete had developed or remembered better skills in being frugal. As for the money Pete would be getting from the sale of his Jeep, he would need that fairly soon to acquire another vehicle. By selling it just before he moved and depositing the money in his old bank, there would be fewer breadcrumbs from his old life leading to his new one. In the mean time he was saving some on his monthly expenses by not paying for car insurance. For now he was able to carry groceries and any other purchases he made either walking or by using the bicycle trailer he had purchased. Within a few months of arriving in Beaver Creek Pete was saving about five hundred dollars a month. He was not getting rich quick, but it was hopeful progress as far as Pete was concerned. Pete was avoiding opening a bank account in Beaver Creek. The money he was receiving in the mail along with what he was saving from his work was going into a hiding place as cash. Pete had learned that undeveloped land in this area was selling for somewhere between one thousand and three thousand dollars per acre. At his current savings rate it would be several years before he had saved enough to buy even ten acres of land. Pete was squeezing in as much time as he could manage searching the internet at the library. He had been pouring over any land for sale listings he could find in the nearby region. He was also trying to gather information about forest land management and sustainable agriculture. Another issue was constructing a home once he acquired the land. Finally there was the issue of gearing up his production of food to a subsistence level before moving into the forest. As he learned more he found his concerns about timing weighing down on him. If things fell apart like he expected before he could get established, he might survive in the forest. That however was not something that required a lot of skills and there was little that could be done to cushion the transition from living in society to living long term in the wild. Pete wanted to keep up with current events enough to not be caught unaware when things began to fall apart. He also wanted to avoid falling into the trap of hanging on every blip in the radar in trying not to miss knowing when the 'balloon' had started going up. That on top of his concerns about his current situation and time table projections were starting to wear down on him. He was working on keeping it under control, but his anxiety level was higher than he would have liked. He decided he needed to spend some more time in the woods and clear his head. He made arrangements to not be working at either job for a couple of days and rode his bike up into the forest. Pete was gradually getting better at handling the hills going through the forest. The extra gears on his bicycle were a major help. When he got to his hiking trail he walked his bike and the trailer carrying his pack away from the road about a hundred yards before he chained it to a tree out of sight from both the road and the trail. Then he harnessed up his backpack and struck out along the trail. By late afternoon he was about eight miles from the nearest road where a small stream crossed the trail. At the top of a rise on the other side of the stream, he slipped his pack off and sat down on a fallen log. He wanted to just be peaceful for a while but his stomach was growling with hunger so he decided to start a small fire and settle in for the evening. The weather forecast was indicating still mild weather tonight so after his meal he completely snuffed his fire and leaned back against an oak tree. He had intended to meditate and take in the forest sights, smells, and sound. Within a few minutes he remembered his conversation with Ruben from a couple of weeks before and reached over to pull his bible out of his pack. As he read, he fell into his pattern from many years before of reading a few verses, and stopping to consider them. Inevitably a thought about what he had just read would bring to mind the words from somewhere else in the collection of writings, and he would search until he found that other passage that had been tucked away in the corners of his memory. Then he would read the new found verse several times, and ponder that just as he had with the previous passage. At some point he dosed off and awakened the next morning wrapped in his sleeping bag. He must have been on autopilot as far as unrolling his sleeping bag, because he did not remember anything other than his reading and meditating the night before. One thing was sure. He was not feeling the tension and stress this morning that he had been experiencing lately. As he walked back along the trail he was reviewing the thoughts he had considered in his bible study the evening before. He was understanding now that he needed to be more active in exercising his faith rather than just telling himself that he had faith. He needed to follow the clear guidance the bible had taught him about what to do and how to trust in God first. Then he needed to let go of the worry, confident that when he was putting the right things first, the rest would be taken care of in due time. The bike ride back home was easier than coming out since it trended more downhill. Still, it was late afternoon before Pete was back at his apartment. He was not needed back at the farm store until 6:45 the next morning so he still had some free time on his hands. He decided to make a cornbread casserole in his cast iron skillet, so he got that started before sitting down to review his budget and plans for the coming week. - - - - - - “Professor Horowitz, I don't understand. I thought I was following all the guidelines and met all the requirements for my dissertation. If there is an area that needs more work or clarification, before I deliver it to the doctoral committee, just tell me and I can fix it. I have worked hard for several years gathering data in the field and thoroughly, meticulously evaluating it. I've worked too hard and too long to just going to walk away from all that and say, 'Oh, well.' What do I still need to do to at least get it before the committee for consideration?” “Joann, You have done very well in your graduate course work, and you have also demonstrated surprising skills in your field research. You have met all the requirements for a masters degree. As a matter of fact I have received very good reports regarding your work as an instructor here at the university. With a masters degree you will be able to easily get work as a teacher in secondary schools. You might even pick up some extra work from time to time as an instructor at a community college.” “I know that, Dr. Horowitz. However, I have been working to get my doctorate in wildlife biology. You still haven't told me why I cannot present my dissertation to the committee. Is my work just not good enough, and you don't think I can make it better? Where is the problem? ” “Joann, you just don't get it; do you? Your work is good enough, but your conclusions are not acceptable. You cannot expect to do research in the segment of this field you chose for your dissertation and not show any support whatsoever for the influence of evolution in your conclusion. That is just unacceptable. In order to teach at a university level you must show research with conclusions that support scientific facts.” Joann was stunned as she stared back at her professor. “ Professor Horowitz, I can only conclude what the data supports. I was very careful to limit biases in my data collection. I documented that process in great detail. I was meticulous in applying objective, academically sound principles when analyzing and interpreting the data that was collected. All of this is laid out carefully in my dissertation. The truth is that the data did not provide support for the primary tenets of the theory of evolution. It did provide insights into adaptation of species to changing environments but not for any species transforming or evolving into different species. I did not try to argue against evolutionary theory. I merely let the data say what it actually said.” “Joann,” the professor now took on a tone of a condescending teacher, “the point is you did not let the data suggest potential support for evolution of species. In order to receive a Ph.D. it is assumed that you would be qualified to teach at a university level. Unless you understand the need to further the acceptance of evolution as the only sound basis of biological studies, you cannot be considered a qualified expert in the field of biology. If you had been more astute in your selection of data, perhaps you could have found more rational support for what we know is scientific fact.” Now Joann's eyes were opened wide. “Are you suggesting that I cherry pick the data, and dismiss the volume of data that doesn't fit a predetermined conclusion. That is academically and scientifically dishonest. I will not prostitute my integrity and publish lies just so I get a piece of paper saying I am an expert.” “I was afraid that was going to be your position, Ms. Blankenship. Your stubbornness in clinging to your beliefs rather than recognizing the wisdom of greater academic minds than yours has limited your ability to avail yourself of higher academic opportunities. I will contact the registrar with instructions to process graduating you out of the university with a master's degree at the completion of this semester. I wish you good luck in your next pursuits.” With that he dismissed her from his office.
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Post by kaijafon on Dec 14, 2019 14:14:47 GMT -6
so very true esp the last part
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Post by texican on Dec 14, 2019 16:57:26 GMT -6
“I was afraid that was going to be your position, Ms. Blankenship. Your stubbornness in clinging to your beliefs rather than recognizing the wisdom of greater academic minds than yours has limited your ability to avail yourself of higher academic opportunities.
Academy only supports their beliefs whether their beliefs are valid or not....
Thanks ppb for the chapter....
Texican....
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Post by 9idrr on Dec 14, 2019 21:30:33 GMT -6
Another good chapter, sir. As for Joann, just rockin' the boat that much might cause the academic world to throw her overboard. Now, we'll find out if she can swim.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Dec 15, 2019 20:19:28 GMT -6
Baby Steps
Pete was keeping himself very busy working two jobs now and trying to get himself ready for the troubled times that he was certain lay ahead of him. Since the break to clear his head in the woods, he was still aware of the uncertainty of the time he had remaining, but he was keeping calm. He got into a mode of keeping his immediate contingency plan in his head. It would be ideal, or rather closer to ideal, if he was farther along in his preparations. If, however, the worst happened tomorrow or even today, he had make-do plans for ways he could cope. In the mean time he kept working and saving and gathering information. Occasionally he would find something that would be important for his make-do plans and spend a little money on that. He was trying to keep purchases like that to a minimum, however. He was getting acquainted with a few more people in Beaver Creek. He was trying to be friendly but cautious about that. He suspected that it was not wise to let too many people know too much about his plans. He was also keeping evidence of his plans to a minimum. He was holding all the money that had been transferred through the mail by his son in cash. He had hidden it in a place he considered safe from prying eyes. He was adding to his cache of cash on a weekly basis from his earnings at his jobs. He had gotten comfortable with saving money on groceries and essential needs. Robert had sent him a box of his winter clothes. He had insisted that Robert have the package picked up at his employer's place of business and that it be addressed to Mr. Smith c/o The Farm Store in Beaver Creek. With the weather getting colder now in Beaver Creek, He knew he would need warmer clothes and different clothes than he had needed back in Texas. He managed to get what he needed when it came on sale at the farm store where he worked. He might have found better prices at a big box retailer, but the nearest one was too far away to be practical for a bicycle ride there and back. He also realized that if he could make do with a minimum of purchases this winter, he could pick up more winter clothing on clearance when the weather began to warm up. Pete was also realizing how fortunate it was that he was working at the farm store. He was able to discover and learn about many useful and previously unfamiliar tools, equipment, and materials there that he would be needing to make his long term plans work. Some of what he was learning was from his conversations with the customers as they were shopping or as he was helping them load their purchases. It did seem a bit odd to Pete that he still had not even seen Rudy's sister who lived through the wall from him. He rarely heard a few noises indicating someone was actually occupying the other part of the house. His outside door was on the opposite side of the house from the front door and garage. His door was also toward the town so he never had a need to go around toward the other side of the house. He had noticed when walking home one afternoon before dark that there was a small shed and a chicken coop inside a small fenced area out behind the house. There was also a small patch that looked like a neglected garden just outside the fenced area. He had every intention of honoring his word to Rudy, but he had always been a curious and observant kind of person. Telling Pete to not have contact with someone he had never seen before was kind of like telling a kid, “Close your eyes, and do not imagine a white horse running wild across the plains.” The first thing that kid is going to visualize in their mind is a white horse running wild across the plains. Pete was occasionally indulging himself by going to Rudy's after supper and having a piece of pie or cobbler with a cup of coffee for desert. Rudy and Gladys were obviously masterful at delighting Pete's taste buds. Pete also found the two of them to be delightful people. Ruben was also becoming a friend of Pete's Their breaks at work were short, but they also managed to converse together as they worked. Pete was getting to where he could now load a pick-up bed full of feed bags with Ruben while talking without getting winded. Ruben was not pressing Pete, but he did occasionally mention an activity he was involved in with his congregation. Pete's curiosity finally won him over. He decided to accept Ruben's previous invitation to visit a meeting of his congregation ... once. It was early January now, and the winters here were definitely colder than back in Texas. They weren't a whole lot colder, but enough to notice the difference. The biggest difference was the fact that it did not warm up nearly as much here between the cold fronts as it did back in Pete's old home. Pete was still adjusting to this and found himself staying inside more once he got off work. Of course here there was no mall and no fast food places to go and grab some food. There was also no family to visit. In short Pete was lonelier here and the days were slightly shorter being farther north. Pete recognized that he had still not gotten a round to visiting even one of Ruben's congregation meetings in spite of his 'decision' two weeks before. That Saturday before leaving work, Pete asked Ruben where his congregation met and what time they had meetings. Ruben wasn't exactly gushing with enthusiasm, but Pete could tell Ruben was pleased that Pete was showing an interest in visiting. When Pete arrived he was a little uneasy. He had visited many churches before, and the first visit or two were always interesting. In some bigger churches, many people simply did not notice a visitor unless there was a call for all the visitors to stand and be recognized. This would be a smaller group and Pete was sure he would stand out as a visitor. Sure enough before he even got in the door people were welcoming him and making sure they got his name. Several recognized him from his working at the farm store. Once he managed to get inside, he was surprised when Rudy and Gladys came up to welcome him. They immediately became his unofficial escorts introducing him to others there and telling him how glad they were to see him there. Ruben also made his way through the small crowd in the meeting room and shook Pete's had while he put another hand up on Pete's shoulder. Pete was very unaccustomed to the greeting he was receiving. He was impressed with more than just how many people were recognizing him as a visitor. It was the special kind of warmth in their greeting that seemed unusual to him. The unusual aspects of Pete's experience did not stop there with the kind of reception he received. It became clear very quickly that this meeting did not follow the format of Sunday meetings at any churches Pete had been to before. One of the 'brothers' from a small town twenty miles away gave a short talk on a Bible subject. It wasn't a sermon. It was just a talk. Soon after that they started their Bible study. One of the other 'brothers' was leading the study. Pete was sitting between Ruben and Rudy and as the Bible study began, someone reached over and handed Pete a printed program including a Bible passage they were studying and a printed discussion of the passage. There were two things about that Bible study that really surprised Pete. The first surprise was that the brother leading the discussion made very few comments about the passage. Instead he was working through the passage asking questions rather than giving answers. The rest of that surprise was how many within the congregation were eager to answer the questions. These people had actually studied this passage and the commentary before coming to the Bible study. Pete was more accustomed to people coming to Bible studies where one or two people dominated the discussion, and most of those attending kind of showed up to listen in rather than participate. The second surprise was even more of a shock to Pete. Half way through the study one member of the congregation dropped a doctrinal bomb. The study leader was waiting patiently for the participant to complete their comment while Pete was cringing inside at what would come next. This was one of the very points that had caused so much trouble between Peter and his professors many years before. What happened next left Pete stunned. Rather than correcting the doctrinal mistake of the most recent participant, the leader reaffirmed what had just been said. Not only that, he cited several more scripture verses from other books in the Bible supporting that conclusion. Pete barely heard the remainder of the Bible study discussion. How could these people be sitting here acting like they all accepted what had just been said? After the meeting Pete had some questions for Ruben. “Ruben you mentioned that you did not have a preacher. Was that visiting brother that gave the talk your substitute preacher until you find one?” “No, no, Pete. He was an elder from a sister congregation over in Clear Water. One of our elders went there today to give a talk there. We don't use preachers or 'pastors'. We rotate the responsibility for giving talks among the elders in this congregation and a few nearby congregations. Brother Wilson who led the Bible study today is one of the elders in our congregation. I am so glad you came today, Pete. I'm guessing you are not use to our style. What did you think?” Pete was watching Ruben carefully for his reactions as he replied. “Ruben, I have to tell you it was not what I was expecting. It would take some getting use to for me, but I guess I would say I found it – refreshing.” Just then the elder who had led the Bible study stepped up to Ruben and Pete. “Brother Sanchez I saw a new face sitting beside you today. Would you mind introducing us?” “Of course. This is Pete Smith. Pete is new in town and we work together at the Farm Store. Pete this is John Wilson.” “Good to meet you, Pete. It's very nice to have you visiting. I hope we see more of you. I hope you found our meeting informative and helpful. If you have any questions we would be glad to answer them.” “I was just mentioning to Ruben that I found it very different but refreshing. I like the feelings I get from the people here. The format of your meetings is not what I was expecting, but the Bible study was very good. I was impressed by the level of participation. I – I think I may come again next week. I may have some questions to ask later, but in the mean time, thank you for a very interesting Bible study.” Pete excused himself and was trying to make his way out of the small building. That took longer than he expected. It seemed like everyone there wanted to welcome him and invite him back. When Pete returned to his apartment he was surprised at how good it felt to find such a welcoming and warm group of people, most of whom had never before met him. It suddenly occurred to him that during their Sunday meeting They had never “passed the plate” or mentioned collecting contributions for the expenses or “the work” of the organization. He wasn't sure if this would last, but for now he surprised himself by wanting to go back next Sunday.
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Post by 9idrr on Dec 15, 2019 20:58:36 GMT -6
Sounds as though the congregation is reelin' him in a bit at a time, just as the author has done to me with his stories. Willingly, of course.
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Post by texican on Dec 15, 2019 22:14:30 GMT -6
Pete has found a congregation to call his spiritual home....
Good chapter ppb.... Moar would be greatly appreciated....
Texican...
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Post by kaijafon on Dec 20, 2019 16:59:25 GMT -6
I just want to say that I've managed a read of what he is "refining" for the next post.... I hope y'all got your boots on cause it is very very DEEP!!!! Some serious stuff is in there and for those who are paying attention to the scene of the world, you will "see" some truth.
It is very GOOD!
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Post by pbbrown0 on Dec 20, 2019 17:25:39 GMT -6
Post #5 The Dark Forces
“Vlad, we simple must be patient. Another crisis at this time will only re-strengthen our opponents' resolve. We must erode and weaken them from within rather than fracture them. This is not a war to destroy them. The goal is to make them want to join us. We must get them ready to accept a submissive posture, rather than remaining the big dog in the pack.” David was delivering his guidance with his typical calm strength that he had learned from his predecessor. “He is right Vlad. We must reshape them until they have forgotten how to be the alpha. When the crises come they must look elsewhere for help and support. They are weakening, but so far they still remember what it is like to rise to a challenge. You must remember that their mindset is far different from that of your people or Zhao's people. ” Christine had no need to back up David's position, but as another new and rising star in this group she had not yet learned the calm confidence that David possessed. “Friends, I am getting old.” A white haired man in his nineties wearing thick glasses was sitting in a well padded chair slightly back from the conference table began speaking in a weak voice. Everyone stopped and turned to him. “I am no longer as active in this group as I once was, but you have been gracious enough to allow me the privilege of sitting in and sharing my observations from time to time. Please indulge me again, as I think I have a lesson to share. Back when I was young and idealistic, but not too realistic, at about the time I was preparing to receive my first degree in political science something happened that awakened me from my naive attitudes. One of our people, who was in fact the son of one of our earliest visionaries, was testifying before a Senate committee. In his idealistic impatience he stated an inevitable fact that each of us here knows to be true. In my own studies I already had realized the truth of what he said, and I was excited that it was being publicly stated. Paul's mistake in making that statement when he did was in not realizing that it was too early to show our cards to everyone. By the time I received my degree, only a few months later, I had already seen the signs, both in the public sentiment and among government officials, that tipping our hand prematurely was a grave mistake. Before the next president was elected those candidates sympathetic to our vision had been relegated to the ranks of those considered un-electable. ” “Until that fateful committee hearing, our efforts had been proceeding far faster than expected. Out of all Paul's testimony before that committee, only two sentences were remembered. Rather than being seen as a prediction of things to come, his wording was taken by a large faction of both the public and of the country's leadership as a threat against their homeland and it's way of life. The decades that followed were characterized by great tensions and turmoil both inside and outside of America. It was a full two and a half decades after that one obscure hearing before we got one of our candidates elected as president. We have been forced to work tirelessly behind the scenes to generate an amnesia and malaise among the people in that world power. It has taken us the better part of a century to recover from that brief premature statement. Yes, we will have that conquest, but it must appear to be by consent, even if not by consensus.” “Thank you for that reminder, Heinz. I was not there, but I have diligently studied our past strategies and tactics. You, are right, as you most often are. We must not pull the trigger too soon. Speaking of pulling the trigger and tipping our hand too soon... Vlad, I don't want you to feel like we are picking only on you, but you are such a key player in our strategies. You must remember that this is much more complicated than a two dimensional chess match. You need to ease back on that religious group you are currently harassing. We thought we had made that clear, and then we hear that yet another one has been convicted. We cannot afford to show the public that clearly about what our future plans are. I know sometimes wheels turn more slowly in one case than they had in previous cases. Maybe this was what happened, but we need you to watch this more carefully at this juncture.” “Jami, you do not need to be so diplomatic with me. I have a tough skin,and I am fully aware of our strategies and goals. We saw a need to show a test case to our people. It would have been far easier if we could have maintained the old laws rather than swinging back and forth. That changing of postures gives a message of weakness. Our concessions on that strategy in order to play nice with the soft Americans have continued for over a generation. As you pointed out earlier it was necessary to appear cooperative to reduce their anxieties about my people being a threat to them.” Vlad was saying this with a smirk. “A problem was developing in that we have loosened our control over religions for so long that our young people were starting to show signs of forgetting that religion was correctly viewed as an impediment to a strong government from the earliest days of our transformation. This reminder will reduce their surprise and possible protests when we all move forward together with our plans. The most recent case was calculated to keep that understanding alive without drawing too much outside attention to our actions.” “We understand your reasoning, Vlad. We understand also that your people and Zhao's people, unlike those in North America, have a need to continue seeing a strong government. The level of reaction in the U.S. and elsewhere over your actions has surprised all of us. There are more than we realized of this religious group outside your country, and there has been a much more determined effort among them to call attention to your actions than we had forecast. It seems their nationalistic fragmentation was not as strong as our analysis had indicated. For now we need to back off. More effort is needed, in America and the middle east particularly, to cultivate both more animus and more complacency toward organized religions. We are also trying to work through the U.N. to create alternative passions among the people of the world. It appears that channel, in spite of the monetary support coming from the U.S., is still suffering in the States from that same unfortunate incident mentioned by Heinz, so many years ago. Be patient. Some day soon we will be able to execute our plans all at the same time across the globe. If all of us go forward together in concert, people will be swept along in the frenzy of eliminating all hated 'other' religions. If one of us steps out ahead of the rest, then too many people may have time to contemplate the implications for themselves.” “This is nothing to be worried about. We will turn this action of yours into a minor blip on the reality screens the Americans are now watching.” David was smirking now. “Our people in the States have come up with a distraction that will serve to further divide and numb down the thinking of the Americans for some time. They will soon forget your actions if you will ease back just a little, Vlad.” ----- After the Holidays “Robert, I have to hand it to you and Jenny. It is nice to just kick back with good friends and relax after the holiday frenzy. Thanks for inviting us over again.” “No problem, Bruce. The holidays can get a little crazy, and it's nice to get back to a more normal routine.” “Oh, so you are seeing Linda and I as just part of your routine?” Robert was now chuckling. “You know that's not what I meant, Bruce. I meant that Jenny and I feel like we can relax and be ourselves around you. By the way, I think is it's good the way Carl and Colleen can be friends and spend time together without it being an issue about dating or not dating. At their ages that seems to get in the way far too often.” “You got that right. Having a daughter in this day and age is really scary. Linda and I are trying to teach her self respect, being careful, and all that, but the crap our kids are exposed to in school is … well you know what I mean. I know you and Jenny well enough that you are trying to raise Carl right. It's tough being a good and decent parent these days. Speaking of being a decent parent, how's your Dad doing? I haven't seen him around here lately. I didn't even see his Jeep out front here a single time during the holidays.” Rob paused and stared at the television screen so Bruce would not see his expression while he tried to formulate an answer. “Sorry, Bruce. I got distracted there. He's keeping busy, living his own life. We keep in touch.” Bruce's face changed to a skeptical look. “Rob this is me you're talking to. Don't try to B.S. me. I know you too well, and I hope you count me as a real friend. If you don't want to talk about it, then okay, but don't feed me some line and expect me to bite. I'm sorry if there is a problem between you two. I would hate to see that. If you decide you want to talk or not that's your choice. Just don't forget I am your friend, Rob.” “Bruce I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. It's just, well, There are some things my Dad wants to be kept private, and I had not thought about anyone asking me about him until just now.” Bruce opened his mouth like he was starting to say something but stopped himself. “Okay, Rob. No questions. Just know that, well, if there is anything I can do to help...” Bruce could see some concern on Rob's face, but he decided to change the subject. “Can you believe the merchants. They push, push, push for the last two months of the year to get every last dime we have, then Wham! January hits and they have all their after Christmas sales! I tell you, Rob, it's a conspiracy to make us all go broke before we can start a new year.” Bruce was trying to laugh, but Rob was not joining in. “What's wrong, Rob? You are not quite yourself tonight. Is this thing about your Dad troubling you, or is it something else?” “Sorry, Bruce. I've just been thinking too much about some things my Dad has been talking about. I didn't invite you over to hash through that stuff. We just wanted to have a good time tonight. What you say we gather our families, get some popcorn going, and start the movie?” Early Progress
Pete had been in a happier mood the last couple of months. It was good to have more people to talk with that he already knew cared about values that were important to him. He felt like he could talk about ordinary daily cares and events without worrying whether or not he might say something politically incorrect that would get someone's hackles up. He was still working hard and doing his research, but he was more relaxed now. His sense of urgency had not diminished, but it was not stressing him like it had before. His letters to his son were also more positive in their tone. He still mentioned his concerns to his son from time to time, but he spent more of his time saying positive things about what he was experiencing in Beaver Creek and asking about what Rob and his family were doing. By April Pete was beginning to think about that neglected garden behind the house. He knew his gardening experience was not extensive, and he would eventually be wanting to plant crops when he was able to find a piece of land. He decided to have a meal at Rudy and Gladys' cafe on Friday and to ask Rudy if he might plant some vegetables there. He was sure there were many things about gardening that would be better learned by doing than by reading. Since the cafe would probably be busy on Friday evening, Pete decided to go later in the evening and try to talk with Rudy after things slowed down. “Well if it isn't Mr. Pete. I've got some blueberry pie left tonight. Would you like some of that and a cup of coffee?” Actually, Gladys, If you have anything left I would like a dinner plate. I'll take anything you made, 'cause I know it will be good. Surprise me.” “You just have a seat, Pete, and I be back shortly.” In no time at all, Gladys was back with a plate piled with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and buttered carrots. “Here ya go, darlin'. When you finish that I'll cut you a piece of that pie I promised ya.” “Thanks, Gladys. And, later when y'all have things wrapped up, I'd like to talk with Rudy for a second, if ya don't mind.” Gladys nodded and smiled before hurrying off to tend to more customers. Later when the crowd was thinning out, Rudy came out wiping his hands on a small towel. “Gladys said you want to talk to me. What's on your mind, Pete?” “Rudy, I want to tell you again how much I appreciate your finding me a place to live, here. I also wanted to ask a favor about that if you think it would be okay.” Rudy's jaw shifted to the right a little as he looked Pete in the eyes. “What would that favor be?” “If it would not be a problem, I was wonderin' if I might plant a garden out back of the house. It looks like there was one there before, but it was not being worked by the time I got here this past fall. I don't know if your sister has any intention of gardening again out there or if she would mind. As a matter of fact I haven't even met her. I just know you asked me to think of you as my landlord so I'm asking you.” Rudy got a curious look on his face for a moment before he replied. “I tell ya what, Pete. Give me a couple of days and I'll have an answer for you.” It was the next Sunday when Rudy stopped Pete after the congregation's Bible study. “Pete I talked to … my sister and that shouldn't be a problem. She didn't have time to work it last summer and is not sure she would have time this summer either. So if you want to, go ahead. She just asked that you not use any insecticides or weed killer on the ground. She had a few other preferences about how to do it, but decided since you'd be the one tending it, she wouldn't try to tell you how to do your own work.” “I'd be glad to hear any pointers on gardening...” Pete noticed a change in Rudy's expression and changed directions in what he was about to say. “So, if you have a friend with some experience in gardening who could give me some guidance, I would appreciate your letting me know. Thank you, Rudy. This helps me a lot.” On the way back home Pete was puzzled. He still didn't understand Rudy's protectiveness about his sister. Could it be that because Pete had only been in town less than a year, and Rudy was still was uneasy about trusting him around his sister? Pete knew nothing at all about Rudy's sister, and he really had too much on his mind to think about that any more. He had a garden to put in and he did not have a tiller. In order to keep his budget intact he would have to turn the garden soil by hand. From what he could see of the old garden plot, it had not been as big as he wanted and that meant breaking new ground. Depending on the soil and how long it had been since the old garden patch had been cultivated, it might take a fair amount of effort just to re-till that part. The next day Pete had bought a garden turning fork and a few other hand tools from the farm store. When he got to his apartment he had only a few minutes before the sun went down, so he decided to use them in the garden first and worry about supper later. He learned quickly that the garden was going to take a lot of work. The soil was mostly thick clay with some rocks mixed in. There was very little organic matter in the soil, even though there had been an attempt at a garden there in the past. He was so focused on getting as much dirt turned as he could in the little time he had that he failed to notice the sky getting darker. What he finally noticed was the headlights of a car pulling into the driveway and flashing in his eyes as he looked up. He stooped over to grab the rest of his tools and carried them around to his door. That's when he realized he had no outside faucet to wash the clay off his turning fork. He used a small hand spade to scrap off as much damp clay as he could before carrying his tools inside. While Pete was cleaning up and cooking his supper, his attention was drawn to how his one room space was getting more crowded now. His room was not that big. With his bed, a desk, a small refrigerator, a bicycle, a bike trailer, a narrow clothes rack, and a small chest for other garments and miscellaneous there was little space left for his new tools. He was going to need to get more creative in stashing all of his stuff. He had been musing just a few days before about how well he had done in radically reducing his life down to bare necessities, but he was already out of room. It was taking longer than he had hoped to get his garden in. Pete was working extra hours with two jobs, and on Sundays and one night during the week he was “going to meetings” with his new found congregation. That did not leave a lot of daylight for him to work the soil. He had bought a few square bales of straw that had gotten wet at the farm store. A truckload had been delivered on pallets covered with light tarps, and a frayed cord holding down the tarp had popped loose when a rainstorm blew in over night. He managed to talk one of the customers into dropping them of by his rented room late one afternoon. He spread them out over the garden patch he had been turning and walked back and forth over it for an hour pressing the straw down on the loosened dirt so it wouldn't blow away before the next rain. Fortunately, the rain came again that same week. It was almost May before he got all of his seeds planted. By that time he had splurged and bought some more straw to spread on top of the ground for mulch. He wanted to try out a method he had read about, but it sounded a bit odd. He had finally decided to set up an experiment. In several areas he simply sowed the seeds on top of the straw letting the seeds fall down among the straw on top of the soil. In other patches he used a hand spade or trowel to dig in and plant the seeds at the depth in the soil recommended on the seed packets before re-spreading the straw on top. Then he had to wait and hope for rain. While this climate was slightly cooler than back in Texas, it was also wetter by about ten inches of rain per year. “We will have a world government whether you like it or not. The only question is will that government be achieved by conquest or consent.” – J. Paul Warburg speaking before the U.S. Senate in 1950 [J. Paul was the son of Paul M. Warburg, one of six Jekyll Island “secret” Planning participants and the first elected vice-Chairman of the Federal Reserve.]
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