Time: Sun Nov 03 06:05:14 1996
To: marmstrong <marmstrong@snowcrest.net>
From: Paul Andrew Mitchell [address in tool bar]
Subject: Blond files
Cc: 
Bcc: 

At 02:28 AM 11/3/96 -0800, you wrote:
>Good Morning Paul:
>
>Did you know that I have a "blond" file
>in my "programming." For instance:
>
>My house is named "Tara"

Do other things have names too?
Tara sounds delightful:  plenty
of room to play, decorate, and
meditate, with space for everyone,
including occasional miracles, like
a piano that plays too, with everyone.


>
>I believe that the first country-western
>song that comes on the radio after I start
>the car fortells my future.

I listen to it more and more. 
The lyrics are sometimes 
utterly perfect, like a complex
sweater woven from dozens of
different colored strands,
always about love and its
power within people's lives.

>
>I believe that all male children are 
>taken into the woods at the age of 12
>and are initiated into manhood by being
>taught how to open jars.

Some are kept in their bedrooms,
because their parents do not exercise,
or attend lectures, or concerts, or
plays, and only vacation 1 or 2 weeks
out of the year, and make a really
big deal out of a fishing trip.  So
the 12-year-old boy ends up typing
the alphabet the one-millionth time
on the used electric typewriter that
Dad salvaged from work, only to be told
to stop because it is making too much noise.
No jars here, just isolation and no outlet
for creativity.  This 12-year-old fled to
a seminary, as a socially acceptable means
of escaping emotional suffocation, as soon
as it was socially acceptable, of course.

 
>
>              ****
>
>I have to replace a valve in my water 
>line today (leaks). And, as long as my
>water is off, replace my water heater
>elements. (We have calcium in our water.)
>
>Wish me luck. I have done plumbing before.

Now we learn to respect plumbers
with greater appreciation than
ever before.


>(Designed and helped build my own house
>long time ago.

I have done that too.
I did everything, from foundation,
to window trim.  I bought a bunch
of tools, and mastered all of them.
The neighbors thought I was crazy,
and I was, because the old life
pattern was breaking up into a 
million little pieces.  The house
turned out great, though:  flush
mounted in-wall speakers with 
separate volume controls,  redwood
deck on three sides, culminating in
a hot tub with ozone generator,
and an outside shower.  There was a
basement which I built after-the-fact,
using a sky hook I designed myself.
That room was allowed to stay dirty;
the rest of the house had to stay
clean.  The living room had this 
really amazing airtight fireplace,
with its own fan;  it could really 
throw the heat.  I designed it all,
after buying this disaster of a 
fixer-upper.  I started pounding,
cutting and slashing, to process a
deep rage inside me, from all kinds
of hurts.  I once wrote a check to
the IRS for $45,000, and thought it
was my duty to do so.  At the height
of that computer career, I was almost
broken by that check.  I knew something
was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger
on it.  I don't want ANYBODY to experience
that in their lives, ever, if I have anything
to say about it, and now I do, I certainly do.
This is God's revenge on a massive extortion
racket:  the best they can do now is to fall
silent, and I have mastered all the moves to
handle their silence.  Imagine my joy to 
discover the true meaning of "estoppel".
I use it all the time now.

I gave it up (the house) to write The Federal Zone,
in my second bedroom, where I had
installed a 386 and a laser printer
(HP LaserJet III).  

 Had to stop working on 
>the construction when we were roofing 
>and I found out I was pregnant with 
>Sarah.) But it has been a while and is
>not my favorite task. 

It is difficult, and dangerous, work.
I heard stories from my carpenters
that would curl your hair (even more
so than it is now):  lost fingers, 
saw blades into thighs, sledge 
hammers ill-timed.  You can imagine,
so I don't need to go into details.
I respect builders very much, and 
when I have the chance, I love to 
admire their work.  It is often very
thankless, especially when you are
a contractor.  Neil & Evelyn's son
Danny just saved a near disaster here
in Tucson.  He fabricated an I-beam
out of two "C" channels, 30 feet long,
and retrofitted this steel beam under
a huge masonry wall that bears the
roof.  Even the masons were amazed
that he pulled it off (one half at
a time).  We went to see it last week;
Danny is "beaming", because the worst
is over:  now the framing begins, and
that is always the most fun part for
any contractor, because it gives 
everyone a chance to shine and show
lots of results.  Danny's client cannot
understand what is going on, even when
people try to tell him.  The new master
bedroom will be a total masterpiece,
and Danny saved the day.  The house was
coming down during the monsoons last
August, when the ground started to 
saturate.  The inspector took one look
at the situation, turned, and ran.

/s/ Paul Mitchell


>
>Mar 
>  
>
>
      

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