Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

So what if the Higgs Boson endows everything with mass. My cellphone makes me invisible!

(First, Family o' Mine, we upgraded our cellphones to Droid Razr M, so you can stop laughing.)
First cellphone

Second cellphone



Current cellphone


From working in the store, walking on the streets, and generally being in the world, I know that lots of people think being on a cellphone somehow makes them invisible and unhearable, and nowhere was that brought home more than yesterday.

I was working in the library at one of the tables. A woman was set up at the table in front of me, her back to me. Then she made the call. The conversation started off softly enough, but it grew increasingly louder. She was calling a man named Chris, who may have been her lawyer, and, from the one-sided conversation I heard, I pieced together the following information (hey, I was writing; it's my job to snoop; however, I am not writing the names of the principals):

  • she is a massage therapist;
  • the case involves botched surgery on her hand in the late 1990s by a practice in the southern part of the state;
  • she had surgery again in 2004, and there were post-surgical problems;
  • fraud is involved in her case;
  • she has no physical evidence of an injury;
  • everyone at the courthouse knows about her case because it's so high-profile;
  • she has reported the case to the FBI;
  • a person who was going to testify on her behalf at a trial was paid off and did not testify;
  • the judge is in "her own psychotic world";
  • the judge has ruled that the caller presented no admissible evidence; 
  • the female judge has a female lover [her partner of 30 years], whose name she spelled out to Chris;
  • her lawyer is not willing to go into the bank account of the surgical practice and take money from them;
  • every judgment by a Santa Fe judge has been against her; the judge's law firm has had a bias against her from the beginning;
  • she spends her time at the law library in Santa Fe, where an intern paralegal told her to watch her back.
Holy moly. Even though I know that being on a cellphone endows the caller with invisibility and inaudibility, if I were involved in a legal case, I wouldn't say nothin' to nobody nowhere, much less in a peaceful, public place like a library.

I'm going back this afternoon to find out more.


Sunday, January 27, 2013

Speaking of Ina . . . .

Friday I had a delightful lunch with my friends Judy and Nikki, and the talk turned to the eccentric folks in Los Alamos. Naturally, Judy and I had to tell Nikki about Ina, who is the first one we associate with eccentricity. Some time ago I wrote a "news story" about Ina and the logical conclusion of her hiking adventures.


Woman and friends hike length of Oregon Trail
“Our long nightmare is over,” says companion

by P-Doobie
special to Quotidiana
© 2013

OREGON CITY, OR (AP)—It took 20 years—15 of them in prison—but Ina Smith has walked the entire length of Oregon Trail from St. Louis, Missouri, to Oregon City, Oregon. Her trek crossed seven states and more than 2000 miles with her hiking companions, Lou Effie Bodell of Austin, Patience W. Littbaum of Chicago, and Anneliese Grandpré of Toulouse, France.

Smith's imprisonment came because of her commitment to historical accuracy. After hiking from St. Louis across Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, Wyoming, Nevada, and California, the four were looking forward to a triumphant entry into Oregon City, Oregon. At Mrs.Smith's insistence, however, Mrs. Smith and her companions reenacted the tragedy of the Donner Party by attempting to cross the Sierra Nevadas in a November blizzard.

“It was colder’n a well-digger’s butt, and you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face in that storm,” Mrs. Littbaum said. “We wanted to stay at a bed and breakfast in Tahoe that even had a hot tub, but Ina said the Donner Party didn’t have hot tubs and made us push on. I wanted to at least ride up to the mountains in the Explorer because my knee replacements were killing me in that snow, but she said nobody in the Donner Party had four-wheel drive or knee replacements either and called me a big sissy. So we pushed on and finally made camp in an abandoned trapper’s cabin up on some pass in the Sierras.”

The women, said Mrs. Littbaum, were grateful to be in a shelter, however primitive, but Ms. Smith had other ideas. To remain faithful to history, Ms. Smith removed the remaining caulking from the cabin to allow the snow and frigid gales to blow in.

“[Ms. Smith] planned the whole miserable thing,” explained Mrs. Littbaum. “We didn’t know it when we set out, but she planned to be in the mountains in the winter. She brought along a couple of untanned cowhides and kept telling us they were covers for our sleeping bags. I wasn’t about to have a cowhide over me; have you ever smelled one of them? But when we got to the cabin, she hid our sleeping bags. Said the Donner party didn’t have Slumberjacks.”

She also did not allow the women to cook and eat the food they carried, the women said. “We brought all kinds of good things,” Mrs. Bodell said. “Shrimp, dried fruit, nuts, filets of beef, fresh fish, freeze-dried ice cream, and fine wines, including a 1961 Chateau Lafitte-Rothschild Grand Cru Classe. She made us turn over all our food to her, and she cached it somewhere in the mountains. We still haven’t found it. And that wine cost $800 a bottle; I had to dip into my pension fund to buy it.”

Referring frequently to Virginia E. B. Reed’s diary account of the Donner Party, Ms. Smith herself prepared the food, which consisted solely of the cowhide.

“Boiled cowhide was the only sustenance she afforded us,” Mrs. Littbaum explained. “Have you ever eaten that stuff? When you boil it, it makes its own glue. Ina tried to say that the stuff in the pot was gravy, but my eyes and my mouth know the difference between boeuf de rôtis au jus and mucilage.”

“We’re pretty sure Ina sneaked out at night to get into the food cache,” interjected Mrs. Bodell, “but we were never able to prove it. She never ate the cowhide as far as we know, and the wind would have covered any tracks in the snow. How else could she survive but by eating our food she had hidden?”

Mrs. Bodell added, “I wasn’t about to put my lips on that cowhide. And Anneliese didn’t speak much English, so her contribution mainly amounted to ‘I will not eat zis merde.’” Miss Grandpré’s refusal to eat boiled cowhide eventually became her undoing, as she was the only one in the party to die.

“Patience and I have some extra padding, you might call it, so we were able to survive those several weeks with only moderate discomfort, but Annaliese was no bigger than a minute,” Mrs. Bodell explained. “Little Annaliese didn’t have an ounce to spare, and she starved.”

“After her death things really started to go to hell,” Mrs. Littbaum said. “Ina demanded historical accuracy, so she divided up Annaliese’s remains neat as a pie and cooked her. Lou Effie and I refused to even think about eating our friend, but Ina polished her off in about three weeks. Said she tasted just like chicken and made all kinds of horrible jokes about the joy of French cooking and eating a French—fried. She even acted out scenes from The Gold Rush and wanted us to join in.”

“The woman’s nuts,” Mrs. Bodell said.

After the party did not appear in Oregon City as scheduled, Tom Ed Bodell, Mrs. Bodell’s husband, organized a search party. Using snowmobiles and tracking dogs, the party found the trio in the cabin.  
“Ina was singing her entire, almost encyclopedic repertoire of campfire tunes in an effort to cheer up Patience and Lou Effie,” he said, “but they were crouched in a corner begging for mercy. They said it was like listening to Die Ring des Nibelungen performed by a Brownie troop.”

When the party, dehydrated and hungry but generally fit, got to Oregon City, Mrs. Bodell and Mrs. Littbaum informed the law enforcement agencies about Ms. Smith's consumption of Miss Grandpré. Local officials arrested Ms. Smith and filed charges of negligent homicide, false imprisonment, tampering with evidence, and destruction of evidence. A jury in Clackamas County found Ms. Smith guilty on all counts and sentenced her to 15 years in the maximum security wing of the Oregon State Penitentiary.

Ms. Smith was unavailable for comment.