mind expanding nonsense

Posts tagged ‘probation’

I’m freaking out at work

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The Golden Egg I’m enjoying working at The House of Pain for my former employer in Probationland is swiftly turning from gold to bronze, with the real possibility it could turn to shit sometime soon. I’ve been ‘re-assigned’ from a first-time drunk driving caseload to help on a mixed caseload of felons, substance abusers and domestic violence offenders.  Thankfully I don’t have to see them.  They all go to a ‘Kiosk’ (an ATM in reverse), where they report monthly by paying five bucks and pushing a bunch of buttons, instead of seeing an asshole like myself who’s only going to tell them what a bunch of fuck-ups they are, and how they’re likely to go back to jail if they don’t get their shit together.  I’d sure pay five dollars to avoid that.

What this change basically means is, I’m gonna have to go from cranking out one form of mindless bullshit to another form of mindless bullshit.  You would think that all mindless bullshit is the same. But it isn’t.  Dealing with drunk drivers is not like dealing with crooks.   They’re just normal folks who got wasted on alcohol, and while totally shit-faced, decided it would be a good idea to get in a car and drive.  We all do it…They just got caught.

With this Kiosk crowd, I’m dealing with wife beaters, drug addicts, thieves, and the like.  That’s gonna be a whole new learning curve for me.  Or rather, re-learning all the crap I swore I’d never do again in my life when I retired ten years ago.  Funny how my words often come around and bite me in the ass.  We’ll see how it goes.  I might be closer to complete retirement than I think.

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Phone Calls

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I don’t know about you, but I’ve been getting a shit-load, and I’m talkin’ cargo container size (size does matter, or at least that’s what the bulk of my emails assure me) of  telephone solicitations lately.  Now a days, the majority of the calls we get, is someone wanting to sell us something.  And they always call at dinner time.

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Hell’s Bells.  I don’t wanna buy anything.  In fact, I wanna save money, or at least conserve it.  That’s why I thought I’d save a dollar a month on my phone bill, by no longer having an unlisted number.  Boy did I fuck-up with that one.  I had to have an unlisted number for thirty years when I was fighting crime at the Probation Department…  Didn’t want my name and number and address listed, in case  one of my probation clients decided that he was the one who was gonna make a home call this time.  So this is the first time Hansi, or as my clients called me, “Mr Hansi” (dumb shits) is in the phone book.

Well, sure as shit, I’m getting barraged with a ton of callers who sound like  former clients gone straight, and have now pursued a career in Tele-marketing.  Sure seems like Karma is coming around and biting me in the ass..

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The Gym

About four to five mornings a week, I drag myself out of bed, get on my bike, and go to the Gym. I love lifting weights and working out. When I was fighting crime, one had to stay in shape to keep up with the bad guys. You also had to have a lot of endurance to put up with the idiotic directives and endless cascade of bullshit coming down from ”Admin”. So, like the guys in prison, many of whom can thank me for being there, I felt I needed to keep up with the clientele.

Now I gotta clear up some things for all you folks that may think being a Probation Officer was in anyway exciting or interesting. When I told people what I did for a living, they’d say something like: “How interesting” or “You must like working with people,” No, I didn’t like working with people, I liked screwin’ with people or why would I be in a racket where all I did all day was tell folks what to do, and threaten them with jail if they didn’t?? AND, to set the record straight; because I hate the confusion of terms. Probation means supervision BEFORE prison: parole means supervision AFTER prison. Jail, is a county facility. Prison is a State Penitentiary, commonly know as “The Pen”, “Big House”, or my favorite, “The Joint”. I would always snicker at that term because it was ‘loaded’ with double meanings.

Back to the Gym. When people ask me if I workout; I usually say “Ain’t it obvious?” Well apparently it’s not, or they wouldn’t be asking. When they ask me “Where”, I reply “The Gym”. “The gym?”, they reply, and I tell them the name of my gym is The Gym. Pretty simple, but sometimes people can’t comprehend that and an Abbott and Costello “Who’s on First” routine ensues, and it’s down hill from here. If they’d over medicated themselves (which sometimes accidentally happens to me) a “Niagara Falls” routine would follow.

I started liftin’ weights when I was sixteen years old, and got myself a Health-Ways 110 lb barbell set. I did every exercise in the small training booklet that came with it. Just like the husky guy in the diagrams, I was bench pressing, doing the military press, and tons of curls: wanted them big ‘guns’. [I was unarmed as a P O]. Boy I sure had a lot of testosterone them days. Wonder how many other 60 year old guys rushed out to buy a weight set after getting sand kicked in their faces. That never happened to me after I started “lifting”. And just like the Ad in them matchbook covers….Now I was the sand kicker, not the kickee….Sorry guys.

I didn’t keep lifting throughout the years. I stopped in college after I first learned about the joint. Or else, I would have been massive, awesome like Arnold, and in really good shape. Now I’m like Arnold. No job, and physically deteriorating; I don’t die my hair. But I started liftin’ again, fifteen years ago, and am now still in my prime.
So I go to the GYM just about every morning and workout.

My/The Gym is not a meat-market like a lot of “fitness clubs”. But an older gym, with even older clientele. Which is good if ya just want to stay in shape and want to get more out of Social Security than you ever paid in. Most of the folks there are friendly and into just staying fit. There’s tons of doctors, lawyers, and even a judge working out there. Some of these guys you even get to know pretty well.

Take my Tea Party Buddie, Mick. I sure like to yank his chain with some progressive stuff like, “Old Sarah sure got her tits caught in a wringer with that blood libel shit”. Well having arrived at the Gym with a big dose of Rush Limbaugh already under his belt, he’s ready to rant and usually responds with “You liberals always……” and then goes on with the latest GOP talking points or O’Riley rant. He thinks I’m serious. I’m really just screwin’ with him ( old habits die hard), and pushing every conservative button I know to see him squirm. Although we actually share a lot of fiscally conservative views, when it comes to religion, the intercourse takes on new heights of delight. He accuses me of not believing in God. To which I respond, “Yes I do, I go to church and worship Her every Sunday”. Mick goes ballistic and is usually so shell-shocked, that he stops liftin’ and has to go right home and turn on Fox News…..Don’t exercise much when he’s around, but my funny bone sure gets a good work-out.

So, not only does The Gym, keep me physically awesome, but mentally as well. Some of my best rants get their start in The Gym.

The Blog-O-Spear

I’m new to this whole Blogging thing, and have only been doing it for two months now. Basically I’m an analogue type of guy time-warped into a digital world. I’ don’t own a cell phone (too much like electronic monitoring for my tastes). I don’t have a Face Book page and don’t “Tweet” on Twitter. I always thought of a “tweet” as a fart that snuck out, and not an off-hand comment you hope someone will read. Maybe there are similarities.

So, next to Germany, the Blog-O-Sphere is the strangest place I’ve ever been. The Internet is full of people yakking their heads off, and people yakking back. Now, I too am yakking my head off; and diggin’ it!

It got me to thinking: What is with this Blog craze? And how did so many retiree’s get involved? The place is filled with Boomers talking about everything from their god-damned cats to financial advice.

Well if you’re 60 or older, you’ve had 50 years of behavioral conditioning taking place on your ass, without even knowing it. It started with the educational system, where perfect attendance was rewarded, and truancy or showing up late punished (sometimes with a Probation Officer on your case). From K to 12, you were trained to sit at a desk all day in school, and crank out bullshit [the only good parts were recess and lunch]. So….If ya did it really well you could go to college where the cranking out of bullshit took on a more compulsive tone. If ya did well in college, (but didn’t go on to graduate school where the cranking out of bullshit hit obsessive compulsive levels), you could get a “good job”, where you sat at a desk and cranked out bullshit all day.

That’s what I did. First in a Welfare Agency, and then with Probation. “But Hansi, weren’t you helping people?” Kinda. But I often had to crank out a lot of bullshit before I could do anything for them. Besides, helping people wasn’t really the mission of these public agencies, It was: every body, on three….^……^^…..^^^..Cranking Out Bullshit.

I wasn’t the only guy who did this all day. I was at the Gym talking to a guy working out and asked him what he did. He replied, “I crank out bullshit all day” “Wow” I said, “Are you a Probation Officer too?” “No”. He was a “educator”, but we were both in the same line of work.

So what does this have to do with the Bog-o-sphere? Classic Pavlovian conditioning! It seems that there’s hordes of retirees out there; and how are they finding fulfillment and meaning in retirement? By cranking out bullshit on their Blogs. That’s what I doing. I have an old bedroom that has been converted into an office/snoring refuge. Got a desk, office supplies, my papers organized….the whole nine yards. I do miss the clerical girls and donuts.

This is gonna have to be a two-parter. Cause I’m really into cranking it out today, but don’t want to challenge anyone’s attention span. Look for my next post, when I tell ya how I’m gonna cash in on all this bullshit.

To Be Continued…..

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