Category: Diary of a Wooley kid

Check me out, all bloggin’ like I know stuff.

  • Just another weekend

    5/19/25

    After a week of work and trolling both sides of the political spectrum with AI images of Trump in different nonsense scenarios, I was looking forward to an easy weekend.

    It was a rare occurrence for me – for two weekends in a row, I did not go out to clean up illegal dumpsites in the desert. After almost seven years of getting up on Saturdays to get dirty, I had the opportunity to sleep in, avoiding any excitement or adventures…

    Just kidding! There was blood, criminal dentistry, hijacking of a radio station, hail, and even a wedding!

    On Friday night, I took my wife out for a show. The Misfits Theater Group presented “D.K. Molar The Devious Dentist” in a hilarious live show at the Odeon Hall in historic downtown Dayton. This was the first time either of us had been to one of these performances. WE LOVED IT!! We will definitely catch the next one.

    During intermission, I was called to the stage to stare into the insanely bright spotlight. Not only was I there for the show, I was also there representing Desert Pigs, since Misfits were using that night’s performance to raise money for our nonprofit. The crowd threw a few questions and lots of applause my way while I stood up there. After my deer in the headlights impression on stage, the show resumed.

    The show was hilariously fun. My wife and I both enjoyed a cocktail as we watched the performance, and I’m really glad we went. I saw several people I knew there, which reminds me…

    Tony, I’ll call the dude about the tires tomorrow! Sorry, squirrel brain and lots going on!

    I got to sleep in. It was pretty awesome rolling out of bed around 9 am. Without a care in the world, I floated into the living room, plopped my butt on the couch, and picked up my phone…

    Ah shit!

    The blood drive I was hosting needed me there in Carson City to unlock the radio station, because Vitalant requires venues to have bathroom access, and nobody was at the building. The bus was rolling to the location. Time to put shoes on!

    I took the 30 minute drive to west side Carson City, greeted the phlebotomists in the parking lot, and unlocked the doors to grant bathroom access. While there, I hopped on the mic right after some Scottish music show was done. I talked to the listening public for a few minutes about the urgent need for donors in this poorly attended blood drive. I pleaded for any heroes who had the guts enough to bleed, to get to the radio station ASAP to donate. In the end, only 4 people successfully donated.

    A random lady on Facebook told me I shouldn’t shame folks for not showing up for blood drives in Carson City, but…

    Y’all are weak AF, Carson City! In Yerington and Dayton we fill those buses every time. Even during COVID, I always surpassed the goal for blood units. I guess we Lyon County folks are just built different, huh?!

    WIMPS!!!

    While I spent time trying to make Carson City bleed, the clock was ticking toward another scheduled event. Don and Linsey were getting married at Fort Churchill!

    This couple heads up the Fernley chapter of Desert Pigs, but jus saying that, is an understatement. Don and Lynsey are absolute rockstars with Pigs. They bring muscle, cool rigs, and awesome leadership to many events. I know if it were not for them I probably would have given up on the effort at some point. I really look up to both of them…

    But APPARENTLY, not enough to ever be on time! I ran late to the wedding, and my wife and I missed the actual getting hitched part. We did catch the rain and hail that pounded the venue, which didn’t seem to stop that crowd.

    Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins!!!

    On the trip home from the Hawkins wedding, my wife was driving while I took a moment to peek at the Facebook wall. I read the tragic post a friend put up, explaining how she was about to do the hero walk for her sister, who was about to become a heart, liver, and kidney donor. I could feel the pain in her words, but I could also see he felt that compassion and love headed to three other people who were about to be given a second chance to hold their loved ones again.

    Jenn, if you are somehow reading this now, know that I’m dropping tears on my keyboard. Nobody deserves the hell you’ve endured lately, but I can see it’s not burned your angel wings. You have our love and respect.

    My father and I haven’t spoken much over the past few years. It’s complicated – even more so now that the alzheimers is hitting hard. Like, how can you be mad at someone who doesn’t even remember why you’re mad? He is also on dialysis now.

    Over the weekend, boxes started arriving with cool computer stuff. Dad had called a few days before to see if it had arrived, so I knew it was coming. However, I wasn’t prepared for what came. He spent some serious money on us here! I’m still a little bewildered about that. This wasn’t normal.

    During our last conversation, Dad seemed a little different, but mostly happy. It was good to hear his voice again. He spoke of dialysis like it was just some inconvenient thing he has to do 3 times a week. Since I am a kidney donor who didn’t come out 100% OK from my donation, I know the important questions to ask. He, on the other hand, didn’t even know what eGFR stood for when I asked about those numbers.

    Dad said he had a surgery to get through on the following day. I don’t know why I failed to ask for what. I haven’t heard from him since then. Since tomorrow is dialysis day, I’ll give it a couple days to reach out. Whatever is going on with him right now, I just hope he’s not in any pain.

    At one point this weekend, I had some deep inner-reflections about all that had happened. Altruism, weddings, death, coming to grips with my own issues with my elders – it all put into perspective, just how stupid things are, which get me all worked up on a daily basis. What’s the point in stressing over insignificant battles? I should live a deeper life, free from the…

    Wait!

    What did that beeyotch just say on NextDoor? The Calvary Chapel cult is still trying to take over the public library? Aw man… time to stir the pot!

    [mindfulness evaporates]

  • Exposing LCSO Deputies

    1/9/25

    The Cop at Lunch

    Have you ever been sitting in a restaurant, minding your own business, when in walks a Lyon County deputy on his lunch break? You watch him struggling to squeeze into a booth. He barely fits with that belly and kevlar vest filled with cop gear. Once he gets awkwardly settled, you might see him scan the room with a stoic gaze. What’s going on in his head?

    What if I told you I had an inside scoop on Lyon County deputies?

    That Belly

    Too many donuts, right?

    Actually, the truth may be a bit deeper than over consumption or lack of exercise. In fact, the officer you’re watching read the restaurant menu, probably puts in more physical labor than you do on a daily basis. The vest alone, is pretty hot & heavy. So what’s going on?

    Deep inside the brain of this officer, there’s a little part called the Amygdala. Its job is to regulate the fight or flight response, which is crucial for his line of work. In milliseconds, it can activate heart, eyes, hands, and feet to act in response to any threat. It’s what makes us all plant our feet and quickly turn around to face something, such as a sound of a text book unexpectedly hitting the floor of a quiet room.

    As great as it is at keeping the officer alive in intense situations, cortisol comes with a price. Those many dangerous interactions over the years all created their own neural pathways. Unlike the ones created in 9th grade Algebra, the connections were made suddenly, and much stronger than anything learned in a classroom. This is the cause of countless triggers the deputy has to deal with at all times. If he previously served in the military, he has that added mental baggage to go with it. His sympathetic nervous system is hooked to a car battery.

    Considering the numerous cases of traumatic situations this deputy has dealt with over his career (or even earlier that day), it’s nearly impossible to shut off all those neural pathways that have hijacked his nervous system. Without routine self-care, all the experiences can pile up, and he could even become one of the 200 law enforcement officers who take their own lives every year.

    As you see the Deputy finish up his lunch break, you see a random citizen approach his table to thank him for his service and offer to cover the lunch bill. The waitress seemed to give him extra attention. Dude probably gets a regular discount for the badge!

    The officer struggles to wiggle himself and his gear back out of the restaurant booth then makes his way out of the dining room. Just short of the door, you see another random citizen stop him to to give a little speech about how he appreciates his service. You notice the officer’s response seems almost annoyed, as he nods at the stranger and makes his way out the door. Perhaps even all of these repetitive shows of appreciation can be a nuisance too. Considering he could be soon tasked with tackling and cuffing just about anyone at any time, coupled with the fact few people could even fathom what he’s really sacrificed over the years, the superficial praise is probably irritating. The free lunch however, is always appreciated. We all gotta eat!

    As the officer drives off, paranoid NPC’s are driving at or below the speed limit. As NPC’s worry the law man is watching them drive, the officer is more likely talking to dispatch, and glancing at the cases showing up his laptop screen while he gets annoyed at you driving too slowly in the fast lane. He’s in Fernley right now, and he’s got stuff to do in Yerington… GTFO of his way!

    M.O.S.T. of What I Know

    In my short career as a community health worker contracted to Lyon County’s Mobile Outreach Safety Team (MOST), I got to spend some hours in the back of a deputy’s vehicle as we went to meet people in their lowest times. While I certainly didn’t get enough on-the-job experience to make me an expert on anything, I did gain a better understanding of what it’s like for sworn officers.

    In 2024, I participated in Crisis Intervention Training at the Douglas County Sheriff’s Office, where I spent a week in a class filled with assorted levels of sworn officers from multiple counties. From those days of presentations, exercises, and candid conversations that I’d never experience anywhere else, my biggest takeaway was how many burdens and fears they carry. They’ve seen things, and they know that every day at work could be their last. They are the ones who have to face the monsters of society, and something as simple as opening a little Tupperware container with fentanyl dust in it could send them to the grave.

    On top of it all, cops are not allowed to have panic attacks or breakdowns. One moment of weakness could mean the end of a career, and they are tested with every call they answer. As an added bonus, they get d-bags who’ll drive all the way from San Fransisco to be provocative, shoving cameras in their face, hoping to catch a deputy slipping for their YouTube channel.

    What Can We Citizens Do?

    Want to take some burden off those who protect and serve? BE GOOD. Don’t get drunk in public, keep your hands to yourselves, and don’t drive like an idiot. Really we all would appreciate that.

    If you do slip up and get in trouble, even at the point you are being detained, be cooperative. Realize this officer is a human being who is looking forward to a beer and BBQ on his or her day off, just like you. They may not be your friend at that moment, but there is no need to escalate. If you’re going to jail, don’t be a raging A-hole about it.

    Don’t call dispatch every time your neighbor plays his music too loudly in his garage. There are only so many deputies on shift at any given time, and there is a lot of miles between towns. Don’t call them over your pissing match, unless the neighbor dude starts waving a chainsaw around. In fact, I’d call as soon as you see him pull the starter rope.

    Read Sheriff Pope’s weekly messages. He has been doing a great job of keeping the public informed through social media the whole time he’s been in office. Nobody likes everyone, so I’m sure someone would disagree, but he’s done an outstanding job all around from my perspective.

    For Real Though, THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE!

    “I could never do what you do.” Officers, I’m sure you hear this a lot, so go ahead and roll your eyes as I say it. The C.I.T. classes gave me a glimpse of what you deal with, along with what you carry while off-duty. I admire those who hold it together, and I understand for those who couldn’t.

    Take care of yourselves. Thank you for taking care of us.

  • The Never Beginning Story

    1/6/25

    Just as I was about to start banging out this blog entry, I got a message from Larry & Carol about a missing 18-year-old from an encampment on the other side of town, who was wandering out in the…

    Sorry! As I was writing that, I got another call from Terry, who said some lanky teenager just jumped out in front of her son’s side-by-side while out on the trails. Worried about him, they contacted the sheriff.

    Alright, I gave Terry’s intel to Larry and Carol, and that should be that. Time to get back to…

    Oh, sorry again… Facetime call from Larry and Carol. Going back over that stuff with them, we’re on the same page. Great! Now to finally…

    HOLD ON… Just got a message from my wife at Winco about what’s for dinner. This actually required me to leave the desk and confirm whether or not, we have pepperoni. We did not. She’ll need to grab some more for us to make tortilla pizzas.

    OK… SITTING DOWN TO WRITE THIS DAMN STORY!!

    “Ding” goes the messenger. This time, it’s Greg asking about those free golf cart tires he hit me up to grab from the golf course. A couple hours ago, he was asking for this while I was getting ready to do a Zoom meeting with folks I’m about to be doing a radio show with. Since they were closer to the golf course, I had asked Larry and Carol to grab those, just before the missing teen incident occurred.

    OK, cops, Larry and Carol are on the hunt for the teen. Greg’s tires are secured.

    Let’s see… what was I going to write about? I know it was something about struggling. I was probably going to mention how I’ve been waiting for that final paycheck from the newspaper since before Christmas.

    I was definitely gonna bring up how my daughter just stood up to grown men at the local Subway restaurant, where she quit her job after realizing they never filled out any tax papers on her, after paying her cash for all the months she’s worked there. I might have even brought up the health concerns of the locked up and abandoned men’s room in there, which I bet will add some unpleasant aroma to the sandwich shop. Yeah… don’t eat there, Dayton. New owners are NASTY.

    Surely, I would have written about the feelings of panic arising from my currently zero income, and how we pulled from the mortgage to pay the gas bill. That’s on my brain pretty hard.

    I’m just not feeling it anymore. That creative spark will soon be used to light up a bowl of some free bud from a friendly neighbor. I’ll toss on the headphones, probably listen to some angry Gen X music, then go wash some dishes so we can get to the sink again. It fills up in a small house with 6 Wooleys.

    Happy Monday! LOL