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With Hesitant Stride - a Blog Novel

"No, I'm not that kind of girl!" she moaned, writhing with desire, yet pushing away. "Yes," he urged, "It is time and past time for us to give in to our passion!" He clutched her tighter. Read on to see what happens.

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Monday, May 22, 2006

With Hesitant Stride - A Blog Novel - Excerpt 5

Saturday morning, I woke up at my usual time, took a shower and dressed in my nice comfortable outfit, which included a muted, but pleasant pair of sneakers, a new pair of J Crew slacks and long-sleeved, silk shell. Both my shoes and slacks were dark charcoal gray and my shell was a gentle, deep mauve. I was just reaching for my charcoal gray button-front sweater when the doorbell rang.
Jimmie helpfully notified me of this by bellowing, "Elaine! Doorbell! I think your date's here!" just as I opened my door, almost running him over.
"Oof! I could hear it just fine. No doubt this is part of your insidious plan to turn me deaf before I reach 40."
"Well, don't let me slow you down," he said, scooting to the side of the hallway. "Go. Go have fun. I'll hold the fort."
"Thanks." I reached the front door, paused, took a deep breath and opened it. "Hi. You're right on time." I said to Richard.
"Well, hello. Are you ready for an adventure?"
"Just let me grab my purse." I stretched and snagged it from the hall table. Richard turned and preceded me down the steps to the street. I was curious which of the cars he would head towards and was surprised to see he drove a BMW sedan. I had assumed he would have gone for a flashier car. "Somehow I pictured you in a Hummer or Corvette."
"I wouldn't mind driving a Corvette or Porsche, but I need a respectable sedan for those times when I have to haul clients around. A Cadillac, Lexus or Lincoln would be too ostentatious and an Accord, Elantra or Camry would be too plain. This 750i is roomy and comfortable to drive in the city and on the freeway." He opened the passenger door for me and I slid into pure luxury.
"I'm very curious where we're headed" I said as he got in. "Any chance you'll tell me?"
"It's a surprise. But I think you'll like it. You haven't eaten yet, have you?" We pulled away from the curb.
"No. But I'll be hungry and ready to eat in about an hour."
"That's great. Because we should be eating around then."
"In other words, it should take an hour to get there?" Which meant we were either headed up towards Tahoe or down to the San Francisco Bay area. I couldn't really tell at this point as we had just gotten onto the Capitol City Freeway and we could be heading to I-5, Highway 50 East or I-80 at this point.
Things became more clear after we turned onto Highway 50 West and then cruised past I-5 and merged with I-80. We were definitely heading for the Bay Area.
"So tell me," I asked, breaking the silence, "what led you to study politic science?" The Yolo Bypass disappeared beneath us; it was early enough that it was still dry. But the weather people had predicted serious rain this Fall, which would turn all the fields into a giant lake. I'd always thought it was rather pretty.
"I've always had an interest, but what drove me to commit to trying has been all the crud I've seen while consulting for the various government agencies. I believe there's got to be a better way to get things done. One that isn't so bound up in bureaucracy. Yes, there's always going to be some inefficiency built into government. However, I think the inertia can be reduced and the services it provides can be maintained."
"Sounds like you've found a life mission. You realize making government more efficient is, to most government workers, just another way of saying 'cutting jobs while demanding more work from those left behind'. I looked over at him. "I agree with you to a certain point, but I work for one of those bureaucratic nightmares. And I'd rather not have to lose my job just to provide you with a test case."
"Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those 'slash and burn' types we get demanding each department cut staff by 15 percent while increasing productivity by 20 percent. But even streamlining the way data is gathered, stored and examined is far less efficient than it can be and to change the processes used requires political clout. And I hope to do my changing in those areas. Just look at your own department, you have access to two main, county-wide databases, one of recent design and one dating back to before Microsoft developed Windows. The gulf in equipment and software makes it difficult to share data between the two and that totally ignores the three or four other databases local to your department. None of the latter have any formal documentation, nor do all workers have the ability to access them and the data is constantly being corrupted because procedures are not in place to verify the data gathered from outside sources. How much of your time is spent cleaning up these small databases?"
"Hmmm… About two hours per week, on a good week. More like three, normally. And sometimes it can take five or more hours if we get incorrect figures from outside sources such as time sheets from contract service agencies. And that's not counting the time to get the incorrect data entered. I see your point."
"And have you tried to get the process changed?"
"Too many times to count. I've never had any luck. I'm always told it would be too costly to fix."
"Okay, so you earn, what, about $20 to $25 per hour? Let's take $25. That means, in an average year, you spend, just correcting database errors, about 150 hours. This costs County $3,750 each year. If you've been doing this for four years, say, that totals to $15,000. Guessing at 4 persons per department who has been doing so in 20 departments over the last four years, we're now guessing that dealing with these errors by cleaning up afterwards has cost Sacramento County $1,200,000."
"Wow! I guess I never took the time to calculate it that way."
By this time we were well past Davis, just entering Dixon. The tomatoes and sunflowers had been harvested, leaving the fields bare. Even so, the sky was clear and blue and I let my eyes enjoy the scenery. I hadn't been this way in almost two years. It had grown more populous.
"From the look of things, it won't be but a few years until Davis and Dixon have grown together," I said.
"I wonder how the residents of Davis will handle that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Davis is rather liberal and Dixon residents are very conservative. In Davis you find the government installing driving circles and banning cigarette smoking on public sidewalks, while there are still plenty of places in Dixon where it's okay to smoke in bars and restaurants."
"That's true. And I doubt you'd see Dixon voting to enforce the construction of 'village commons' housing areas that are designed to force people out of their cars. Is this more of what you're studying at school?"
"Oh, I'm not getting too involved in community planning, but yes, I'll have to know some of this to be an effective political consultant. Heck, I'll need to be able to understand it even if I get sucked into being a politician."
"You make that sound like a bad thing."
"I'm sure being a politician is a great job, but being the political consultant means you can concentrate on just one task, one arena, one specialty. Also, as a politician, once you're elected, your power drops to that of one vote on a given issue. I'm not sure that's the right direction for me." He looked thoughtful. "I suppose I'd rather be the 'power behind the throne' than the voice on the throne."
What is it with men and wanting to be in control? "What is it with you men wanting to control everything?"
"To be honest, I guess it's as much what I was taught as hard-wired instinct. But it's also more fun being able to shape your own life than having your life shaped by others. And being a politician is all about being controlled by others, the consultants, lobbyists, campaign managers, news reporters, contributors, even the voters to a small degree."
"To a small degree?" I was somewhat shocked. "Isn't that showing a fair degree of cynicism? I'd think the voters have much more control. After all, they can vote the politician out of office."
"With the way most states set up voting districts, the amount of emotion-pumping advertising and the 'you-wash-my-hands-and-I'll-wash-yours' favor trading, you'd not be surprised to see how little real power the average voter has to influence who gets the job. It's one of those things you try to change, but you have to partially accept if you want to get any of your ideas into use."
"And here I thought I knew how the system worked." I was shocked. Here I worked as a government employee and I had always assumed people went to work in government to help the people to improve the quality of their lives. Well, I guess part of government was focused on that task.
We had passed Vacaville, were, in fact, in Fairfield. Richard began to move to the right. "Ummm… Are we stopping for a break?"
"Do you need one?" he asked. "If so, I'll pull off."
"No, I just noticed you changing lanes."
"Yes, we're getting off onto Highway 12 in a few minutes."
"Ahhh… Then we're not going to San Francisco. A clue."
"Yep. A clue. I'll even toss you a bone. We're headed to Napa, John F. Kennedy Memorial Park, to be exact."
"Never heard of it until just now. What's there?"
"You'll see," he smiled.
"Come to think of it, I could stand to stretch my legs, take a potty break, maybe get a bottle of water."
Richard pulled off at the next exit. "Your wish is my command. However," he said, flipping up the center arm console and revealing a small compartment holding two water bottles, "I can assuage your thirst immediately. As I said, this car is luxury."
***
Properly refreshed, we got back on I-80, drove a few more miles and exited onto Highway 12. Even brown and dry, the country was quite pretty. I sank deeper into my seat, sipped from my water and watched the scenery drift past.
"I haven't been this way in years. Yet I remember the first trip I made to the Napa wine country. My friends and I stopped at several of the local wineries. At one, 'S. Vittui' I think, we bought some sandwiches made using cheese and bread made right there. We sipped wine from their latest stock."
"They're still in business. I was down here just last year and happened to stop in after a business meeting. Perhaps we'll remember on the way home to stop in at their gift shop."
"That would be nice." It dawned on me that I felt comfortable around Richard. He was an easy man to get to know. Although I did feel somewhat dismayed by his views on politics, politicians and government. Still, he made me feel cherished; Alan would never have thought to ask if I needed to get out and stretch, much less to stock a few bottles of water for the trip. All in all, this 'date' was going rather well.
And Richard talked. Not on and on about baseball this, basketball that and football the other, but about real issues and how he looked at life. I had to almost grab Alan's tongue and wag it to get him to say three non-sports words together in a sentence; unless he wanted to point out how I didn't do 'enough' for him or 'appreciate' what he 'gave' me. Once again Richard struck me as being far more self-confident than Alan.

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