As you can read, I am not done with my road update. Oh no...not by a long shot. I just posted about Lewiston, Idaho...but I am all the way in North Dakota now.
I have done what I can for today...but I will post more updates soon and will continue to do so until I am all caught up here.
Stay safe, stay cool and most of all...stay healthy.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Twitter*Painted
This is a close-up of the Twitter*Painted girl birdie:
This is a close-up of the Twitter*Painted boy bird:
This is a close-up of the Twitter*Painted boy bird:
Twitter*Painted
Long before Twitter came along, a little animal in the movie "Bambi" used the term "twitterpated" to describe a love-sick furry friend.
My drawings that I am doing to develop my own, unique Twitter logo are being listed as "Twitter*Painted."
Heh-heh-heh.
Here's one:
And of course, the design was created by me and every right (except for the "Twitter" part) is obviously reserved to moi.
My drawings that I am doing to develop my own, unique Twitter logo are being listed as "Twitter*Painted."
Heh-heh-heh.
Here's one:
And of course, the design was created by me and every right (except for the "Twitter" part) is obviously reserved to moi.
Ruthie On The Road, Update
I felt a red flag go up in my head. Something wasn't right. And the sixth sense that has protected ME for years warned me to refuse the ride from that cop, to anywhere.
"No" I said, very clearly and quietly while I looked him straight in the eye.
"I don't trust you and there's no reason to put me in handcuffs while giving me a courtesy ride, Officer."
We looked at each other then...like two adversaries squaring off for a fight. It became obvious to him that I was going to stay right where I was until morning.
And I was, at that point, by a turn-around with light poles and big rocks that I could sit on...well away from any traffic.
The cop finally got back in his cruiser and left...bright lights and all...and disappeared toward the very dark section of the road.
I flipped open my cell phone and called 911. I told the woman who answered that I had a disagreement with an Idaho State cop and that I wanted to talk to someone about it.
She took my cell phone number and a Sgt. called me back.
I told him what happened and said that it seemed strange that he wanted me to wear handcuffs during a courtesy ride. And it sure was odd that the cop offered to drive me down to what is actually a deserted and poorly-lit area.
Then I told the Sgt. exactly where I was standing and that I'd be there until daylight. He listened to me without interrupting and then asked where the cop was. I told him that I had no idea and didn't care, either.
Then I ended the conversation by saying, "On this night, the State of Idaho really dropped the ball."
And then I hung up.
"No" I said, very clearly and quietly while I looked him straight in the eye.
"I don't trust you and there's no reason to put me in handcuffs while giving me a courtesy ride, Officer."
We looked at each other then...like two adversaries squaring off for a fight. It became obvious to him that I was going to stay right where I was until morning.
And I was, at that point, by a turn-around with light poles and big rocks that I could sit on...well away from any traffic.
The cop finally got back in his cruiser and left...bright lights and all...and disappeared toward the very dark section of the road.
I flipped open my cell phone and called 911. I told the woman who answered that I had a disagreement with an Idaho State cop and that I wanted to talk to someone about it.
She took my cell phone number and a Sgt. called me back.
I told him what happened and said that it seemed strange that he wanted me to wear handcuffs during a courtesy ride. And it sure was odd that the cop offered to drive me down to what is actually a deserted and poorly-lit area.
Then I told the Sgt. exactly where I was standing and that I'd be there until daylight. He listened to me without interrupting and then asked where the cop was. I told him that I had no idea and didn't care, either.
Then I ended the conversation by saying, "On this night, the State of Idaho really dropped the ball."
And then I hung up.
Ruthie On The Road, Update
The vast majority of cops that I've met on the road have been wonderful. And that includes another Idaho State cop who not only gave me a courtesy ride in his cruiser one night (sans handcuffs) but also allowed me to hitchhike on an on ramp. He even gave me his business card.
Yes, that's a true story.
So I know what the back of an Idaho State cop cruiser looks like. I'm familiar with how it's constructed. Once you're in it, you're stuck until the cop lets you back out.
It has a "cage" and a cover with no openings anywhere.
Without a weapon, it would be impossible for a person to be any threat to an officer.
Before I would have sat in the cruiser, the cop would have patted me down and determined that I had no weapon. And my pack would have been searched after I was in the car. In other words, I would have been put me in a position where I wouldn't have been any threat to that officer. At all.
So why did that cop want to put me in handcuffs?
Yes, that's a true story.
So I know what the back of an Idaho State cop cruiser looks like. I'm familiar with how it's constructed. Once you're in it, you're stuck until the cop lets you back out.
It has a "cage" and a cover with no openings anywhere.
Without a weapon, it would be impossible for a person to be any threat to an officer.
Before I would have sat in the cruiser, the cop would have patted me down and determined that I had no weapon. And my pack would have been searched after I was in the car. In other words, I would have been put me in a position where I wouldn't have been any threat to that officer. At all.
So why did that cop want to put me in handcuffs?
Ruthie On The Road, Update
NOW, I don't often run into psycho police, but over the years, there have been a few exceptions:
1.] Cops in New Jersey (one in particular who was later put in prison along with his buddies after a corruption investigation)bought some very bad karma when they hassled me.
When I heard about the corruption investigation and subsequent prison sentences on an ABC Radio report, I smiled for the rest of that day.
2.] A cop in Cheyenne, Wyoming who chose to stop me from hitchhiking on an on ramp near a cluster of truck stops outside of the City. When he tried to force me to walk against the traffic on the edge of the interstate in 98 degree heat...and didn't care if I got a cold bottle of water, two things happened:
A.) I called his dispatcher on my cell phone and raised hell. The dispatcher, a very nice lady, sided with me. She arranged for me to get out of Cheyenne on an air-conditioned bus.
B.) Several big truckers, with menacing eyes, stepped up, interrupted the cop's tirade and brought me inside a cafe and out of the heat. They bought me a cold glass of ice tea and helped me get to the bus station.
3.) A deputy sheriff in rural Virginia yelled at me for hitchhiking on a two-lane country road. I had been up all night and I was bone dead tired. So I did what I rarely do, I told the cop off.
I was in no mood for his crap and told him so.
At one point, both the cop and I became quite a sight to the locals driving to work...exchanging "pleasantries" in the misty light of dawn.
When the cop finally drove away, a carpet layer and his son drove over and said that they'd witnessed the entire conversation.
Before they went to work that day, they bought me breakfast, gave me money for laundry plus extra groceries and bought me a motel room for several days in a nearby town. And for some mysterious reason, no one prevented me from hitchhiking in that State again.
1.] Cops in New Jersey (one in particular who was later put in prison along with his buddies after a corruption investigation)bought some very bad karma when they hassled me.
When I heard about the corruption investigation and subsequent prison sentences on an ABC Radio report, I smiled for the rest of that day.
2.] A cop in Cheyenne, Wyoming who chose to stop me from hitchhiking on an on ramp near a cluster of truck stops outside of the City. When he tried to force me to walk against the traffic on the edge of the interstate in 98 degree heat...and didn't care if I got a cold bottle of water, two things happened:
A.) I called his dispatcher on my cell phone and raised hell. The dispatcher, a very nice lady, sided with me. She arranged for me to get out of Cheyenne on an air-conditioned bus.
B.) Several big truckers, with menacing eyes, stepped up, interrupted the cop's tirade and brought me inside a cafe and out of the heat. They bought me a cold glass of ice tea and helped me get to the bus station.
3.) A deputy sheriff in rural Virginia yelled at me for hitchhiking on a two-lane country road. I had been up all night and I was bone dead tired. So I did what I rarely do, I told the cop off.
I was in no mood for his crap and told him so.
At one point, both the cop and I became quite a sight to the locals driving to work...exchanging "pleasantries" in the misty light of dawn.
When the cop finally drove away, a carpet layer and his son drove over and said that they'd witnessed the entire conversation.
Before they went to work that day, they bought me breakfast, gave me money for laundry plus extra groceries and bought me a motel room for several days in a nearby town. And for some mysterious reason, no one prevented me from hitchhiking in that State again.
Ruthie On The Road, Update
I continued to hitchhike and reached a sort of crossroads outside Lewiston, Idaho just as the sun set.
By this time it was May fifth, the night of Cinco De Mayo. I was mindful of the possible increase in drunk drivers on the road.
But I was now on highway 12 heading east to highway 3.
And I was considering my options when an Idaho State cop, in a black-and white cruiser, pulled up.
And I knew that he was some kind of jerk when he pointed the cruiser's spotlight right in my face. If there's one thing that I hate, it's bright light. I had two serious eye surgeries when I was young and my eyes have been hyper-sensitive to light ever since.
There were light poles along the road side and I clicked off my own flashlight, hoping that he'd get the hint.
He didn't.
In fact, he swiftly graduated from jerk to asshole when he walked up to me with a big flashlight tucked into his arm.
"It's illegal to hitchhike" he declared.
I put one hand on my forehead to shade my eyes. Then I told him about the cop that stopped me in Weiser, Idaho earlier in the day.
"He just ran my ID, handed it back, told me to be careful and wished me good luck" I said.
"I've hitchhiked all the way from Fruitland to here...in this State...and nobody has made an issue about it anywhere along the way."
"It is illegal to hitchhike everywhere in the Country" griped the cop, obviously not believing a word that I said.
"Officer" I replied, with a sigh, "I've been hitchhiking around North America since 1993. And that's why I have this nice pack, 100% DEET spray, a good LED flashlight, a first-aid kit, a current road atlas and a cell phone."
His eyes narrowed, his jaw set and he said, "I can take you back to Lewiston or down to highway 3 and drop you off."
"Officer, there is no point in taking me back to Lewiston but I'll go on down to highway 3 with you if you're sure that there's light down there and a place that I can sit that is far off the road."
"Is the 12 and 3 junction well-lit like this area here is?" I asked.
"I don't know" he said and THAT is when I realized that there was something strange about that cop.
I have never met a cop that doesn't know every inch of his regular patrol area, from map dots to mile markers.
"But I'll take you on up there" he said.
"I'll do a simple pat-down first, put your stuff in the trunk and there's one more thing that you'll have to do before you get in my car..."
And then he said what no cop has ever said to me on the road when I've been offered a courtesy ride:
"...you'll have to wear handcuffs."
By this time it was May fifth, the night of Cinco De Mayo. I was mindful of the possible increase in drunk drivers on the road.
But I was now on highway 12 heading east to highway 3.
And I was considering my options when an Idaho State cop, in a black-and white cruiser, pulled up.
And I knew that he was some kind of jerk when he pointed the cruiser's spotlight right in my face. If there's one thing that I hate, it's bright light. I had two serious eye surgeries when I was young and my eyes have been hyper-sensitive to light ever since.
There were light poles along the road side and I clicked off my own flashlight, hoping that he'd get the hint.
He didn't.
In fact, he swiftly graduated from jerk to asshole when he walked up to me with a big flashlight tucked into his arm.
"It's illegal to hitchhike" he declared.
I put one hand on my forehead to shade my eyes. Then I told him about the cop that stopped me in Weiser, Idaho earlier in the day.
"He just ran my ID, handed it back, told me to be careful and wished me good luck" I said.
"I've hitchhiked all the way from Fruitland to here...in this State...and nobody has made an issue about it anywhere along the way."
"It is illegal to hitchhike everywhere in the Country" griped the cop, obviously not believing a word that I said.
"Officer" I replied, with a sigh, "I've been hitchhiking around North America since 1993. And that's why I have this nice pack, 100% DEET spray, a good LED flashlight, a first-aid kit, a current road atlas and a cell phone."
His eyes narrowed, his jaw set and he said, "I can take you back to Lewiston or down to highway 3 and drop you off."
"Officer, there is no point in taking me back to Lewiston but I'll go on down to highway 3 with you if you're sure that there's light down there and a place that I can sit that is far off the road."
"Is the 12 and 3 junction well-lit like this area here is?" I asked.
"I don't know" he said and THAT is when I realized that there was something strange about that cop.
I have never met a cop that doesn't know every inch of his regular patrol area, from map dots to mile markers.
"But I'll take you on up there" he said.
"I'll do a simple pat-down first, put your stuff in the trunk and there's one more thing that you'll have to do before you get in my car..."
And then he said what no cop has ever said to me on the road when I've been offered a courtesy ride:
"...you'll have to wear handcuffs."
Ruthie On The Road, Update
I walked into the cafe to get a cup of coffee with some chocolate and espresso.
As I turned around, I noticed a man with a Bible and a yellow legal pad sitting at one of the tables.
I got my coffee, smiled at him and introduced myself. Then I asked if I could sit at the table with him. He returned my smile and kicked out the chair.
"Are you a preacher?" I asked him.
He said "yes."
Then he pointed to his ball cap. The cap featured an embroidered logo and the words "Cowboy Church."
"That's my congregation" he explained.
"Just them?" I asked with a pointed look, "What about everyone else in this area?"
"What are they to you?" I asked.
The man declared that our meeting was not by chance and slid the legal pad over to me.
"I'm working on my next sermon" he explained.
Then I read the title at the top of the page: "What Should The
Cowboy Church Do For The Community?"
"I could give you a few answers to that question from personal experience" I said.
"Sure, go ahead" he said, with his pen poised to write.
Then I talked and he wrote. When I was done, he prayed with me and I walked back out the door.
What did I tell him?
I'll let you think about it.
And I'm quite sure that he included my points in his sermon.
As I turned around, I noticed a man with a Bible and a yellow legal pad sitting at one of the tables.
I got my coffee, smiled at him and introduced myself. Then I asked if I could sit at the table with him. He returned my smile and kicked out the chair.
"Are you a preacher?" I asked him.
He said "yes."
Then he pointed to his ball cap. The cap featured an embroidered logo and the words "Cowboy Church."
"That's my congregation" he explained.
"Just them?" I asked with a pointed look, "What about everyone else in this area?"
"What are they to you?" I asked.
The man declared that our meeting was not by chance and slid the legal pad over to me.
"I'm working on my next sermon" he explained.
Then I read the title at the top of the page: "What Should The
Cowboy Church Do For The Community?"
"I could give you a few answers to that question from personal experience" I said.
"Sure, go ahead" he said, with his pen poised to write.
Then I talked and he wrote. When I was done, he prayed with me and I walked back out the door.
What did I tell him?
I'll let you think about it.
And I'm quite sure that he included my points in his sermon.
Ruthie On The Road, Update
I walked away from Ontario, Oregon...past Fruitland, Idaho and almost into Payette when a car pulled up beside me.
A man with a teenage daughter and a young boy in the backseat, asked me if I wanted a ride.
Twenty-minutes later the man bought me a motel room and put forty-dollars in my hand before disappearing with his kids back down the road in the rain.
I unpacked "Tour Guide" and put him on the bed and felt better than I had in days.
That night I listened to the rain outside the window and fell asleep in absolute peace.
The next day I hitched up highway 95 and at one point was dropped-off by a coffee shop in Council, Idaho.
A man with a teenage daughter and a young boy in the backseat, asked me if I wanted a ride.
Twenty-minutes later the man bought me a motel room and put forty-dollars in my hand before disappearing with his kids back down the road in the rain.
I unpacked "Tour Guide" and put him on the bed and felt better than I had in days.
That night I listened to the rain outside the window and fell asleep in absolute peace.
The next day I hitched up highway 95 and at one point was dropped-off by a coffee shop in Council, Idaho.
Ruthie On The Road, Update
I left Nyssa on May 1 and went to a motel in nearby Ontario, Oregon. I waited a few days, until the stormy weather blew itself out (a funnel cloud passed over the motel but thankfully didn't touch down) and then moved on.
With a fully stocked yellow-and-black pack over my shoulders, I set out for North Dakota.
I passed the local Wal-Mart when my former landlady pulled into a nearby parking lot. She called and asked me if I wanted a ride home.
I thought about her lack of interest in helping me with anything when I was at the apartment in Nyssa. I remembered the dirty floors and the equally nasty walls that she never had cleaned and painted before I moved in. I considered the little bit of food that she gave me when I first got to Nyssa and the piles of food that she had stockpiled in her big house at the end of the street. I ran every arrogant statement that she made to me through my mind as I walked up to her red minivan.
"You mean you want to take me back to Nyssa?" I asked.
"Yes" she said with that same phony, condescending smile on her face.
I realized that God had granted me the golden opportunity to tell her everything that she needed to hear. So I gave it to her straight.
I never raised my voice or uttered a single cuss word. I didn't have to. The truth had a clear and definite impact on her...all on its own.
I called her a hypocrite and a slumlord.
I reminded her of what she could and should have done that she never did. Then I informed her that the key was on the counter, the door was locked and I was outta there.
I finished my statement by saying "When you go home to your big house, ask yourself...before you walk in the front door...what you should have done for me."
Her eyes went wide, her jaw dropped and for once she was speechless. I told her goodbye and walked away.
I left her in a state of shock. And I'm sure that's because nobody who's ever rented from her has ever called her on her actions before. Until I did.
With a fully stocked yellow-and-black pack over my shoulders, I set out for North Dakota.
I passed the local Wal-Mart when my former landlady pulled into a nearby parking lot. She called and asked me if I wanted a ride home.
I thought about her lack of interest in helping me with anything when I was at the apartment in Nyssa. I remembered the dirty floors and the equally nasty walls that she never had cleaned and painted before I moved in. I considered the little bit of food that she gave me when I first got to Nyssa and the piles of food that she had stockpiled in her big house at the end of the street. I ran every arrogant statement that she made to me through my mind as I walked up to her red minivan.
"You mean you want to take me back to Nyssa?" I asked.
"Yes" she said with that same phony, condescending smile on her face.
I realized that God had granted me the golden opportunity to tell her everything that she needed to hear. So I gave it to her straight.
I never raised my voice or uttered a single cuss word. I didn't have to. The truth had a clear and definite impact on her...all on its own.
I called her a hypocrite and a slumlord.
I reminded her of what she could and should have done that she never did. Then I informed her that the key was on the counter, the door was locked and I was outta there.
I finished my statement by saying "When you go home to your big house, ask yourself...before you walk in the front door...what you should have done for me."
Her eyes went wide, her jaw dropped and for once she was speechless. I told her goodbye and walked away.
I left her in a state of shock. And I'm sure that's because nobody who's ever rented from her has ever called her on her actions before. Until I did.
Don't Give A Damn About Sam
Recently, Sam Adams, the so-called Mayor of Portland, Oregon was featured in a story during "The Situation Room" on CNN. The following verses are my reaction to what I watched:
I don't give a damn about Sam
He's the one who found disgrace
When he walked in Portland's City Hall
And sucked another guy's face
Somewhere between the urinal and the stall
He just let his honor fall
And ignored the writing on the wall
So, I don't give a damn about Sam at all
Because I know under his suit and tie
He is just a walking lie
The stack of fibs on his shoulders is ten-feet high
And they're continuing to multiply
No, I don't give a damn about Sam
And I'll be happy when he's gone
When he's sent down the road
Like a HazMat load
Locked tight in a porta-john!
Poem By Ruthie Rader/All Rights Reserved
He's the one who found disgrace
When he walked in Portland's City Hall
And sucked another guy's face
Somewhere between the urinal and the stall
He just let his honor fall
And ignored the writing on the wall
So, I don't give a damn about Sam at all
Because I know under his suit and tie
He is just a walking lie
The stack of fibs on his shoulders is ten-feet high
And they're continuing to multiply
No, I don't give a damn about Sam
And I'll be happy when he's gone
When he's sent down the road
Like a HazMat load
Locked tight in a porta-john!
Ruthie On The Road, Update
HELLO EVERYBODY!!!
Yeah, I'm still alive. Heh-heh-heh.
And I am doing better than ever, thank you.
More on that in a minute.
But first...a post about Sam Adams.
Yeah, I'm still alive. Heh-heh-heh.
And I am doing better than ever, thank you.
More on that in a minute.
But first...a post about Sam Adams.
Monday, May 04, 2009
Ruthie Leaves Nyssa
I left the apartment in Nyssa last Friday morning.
I dropped the key on the kitchen counter, grabbed the trash, walked out and locked the door behind me.
I'm satisfied with the decision that I made.
When I understood that I was never going to get any more furniture in my place or another peaceful evening after the guy moved a mega-music box into the apartment next
door...I knew that it was time to take a stand. So I did.
I got off the couch, walked out the door and went down the road. Yeehaw.
I left...the funky, exposed sewer pipe in the bathroom and the dirty walls in every room that should have been painted before I moved in...and didn't even blink.
When the taxi rolled out onto the main road, I never looked back.
You can keep your skanky laundromat, Nyssa and your strange fire siren, covert meth labs and your cold shoulders, too.
I paid the electric bill and disconnected the cable. I am outta there. Buh Bye!
So where am I going to go now?
Back on the road, of course.
I'm going to step slow and walk free.
Now that the H1N1 virus is slinking like a sick snake across North America...I'm going to take Tour Guide, a backpack and my new walking stick out onto the open highway.
I'm going to celebrate the LIFE that God gave to me.
Yes, there's a threat in the air...a pandemic building everywhere...and it's quickly changing everything.
Suddenly people all over the world are slowing down and re-thinking their priorities.
Some religious zealots swear that God is punishing us all for a lengthy list of sins.
I think they're wrong.
If God, in all of His "lofty omnipotence" (according to the Baptists)is involved in the current swine flu situation...
...I think that it's for an entirely different reason:
He wants us to get back to being what we're supposed to be--team players.
It's amazing how fast some ambitions, attitudes and behaviors change when human beings face a real worldwide crisis.
Soon we'll have to unite to get past this health nightmare and survive.
So, if you see me on the side of the road...smile and wave. We're all in this together this time.
I dropped the key on the kitchen counter, grabbed the trash, walked out and locked the door behind me.
I'm satisfied with the decision that I made.
When I understood that I was never going to get any more furniture in my place or another peaceful evening after the guy moved a mega-music box into the apartment next
door...I knew that it was time to take a stand. So I did.
I got off the couch, walked out the door and went down the road. Yeehaw.
I left...the funky, exposed sewer pipe in the bathroom and the dirty walls in every room that should have been painted before I moved in...and didn't even blink.
When the taxi rolled out onto the main road, I never looked back.
You can keep your skanky laundromat, Nyssa and your strange fire siren, covert meth labs and your cold shoulders, too.
I paid the electric bill and disconnected the cable. I am outta there. Buh Bye!
So where am I going to go now?
Back on the road, of course.
I'm going to step slow and walk free.
Now that the H1N1 virus is slinking like a sick snake across North America...I'm going to take Tour Guide, a backpack and my new walking stick out onto the open highway.
I'm going to celebrate the LIFE that God gave to me.
Yes, there's a threat in the air...a pandemic building everywhere...and it's quickly changing everything.
Suddenly people all over the world are slowing down and re-thinking their priorities.
Some religious zealots swear that God is punishing us all for a lengthy list of sins.
I think they're wrong.
If God, in all of His "lofty omnipotence" (according to the Baptists)is involved in the current swine flu situation...
...I think that it's for an entirely different reason:
He wants us to get back to being what we're supposed to be--team players.
It's amazing how fast some ambitions, attitudes and behaviors change when human beings face a real worldwide crisis.
Soon we'll have to unite to get past this health nightmare and survive.
So, if you see me on the side of the road...smile and wave. We're all in this together this time.
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