Showing posts sorted by relevance for query proano. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query proano. Sort by date Show all posts

Monday, April 1, 2013

Anul Nou 1996

Au fost şase luni din cele mai bune şi din cele mai rele din viaţa mea. În August 1995 m-am mutat în SUA.

Au fost cele mai bune fiindcă am ajuns şi eu pe pământul făgăduinţei, cel cântat de Hollywood.

Au fost cele mai rele pentru că în urma unui lung şir de dezamăgiri în februarie am ajuns în cel rău punct din viaţa mea. Un job temporar la Electronic Specialty. O noapte la închisoare şi după aceea două săptămâni la spitalul de nebuni, în grija doctorului Proano. Dar când stau acum şi mă gândesc mai nimic nu a fost din vina mea.

Unul din punctele culminante a fost întâmplarea de mai jos, care a contribuit decisiv la intrarea mea într-un fel de şoc.

După 21 decembrie 1995 m-am mutat în Vancouver, WA (nu Vancouver BC care este de 4 ori mai mare şi este în Canada), la sfatul lui Aurel Popescu (care semăna cu Ahmet Ertegun), pastorul, tatăl ... am uitat cum o cheamă, "fata lui Popescu", aia măritată cu Tudor Toader, care este ortodox şi seamănă cu... (Fata lui Popescu semăna tare cu Ana Blandiana şi mi-a fost colegă de serviciu (era în altă secţie, vecină, la AVX în 1999-2000 şi a murit de cancer nu ştiu câţiva ani după aceea).

Deci în decembrie 1995 m-am mutat în Vancouver chiar lângă AVX (Kyocera - prescurtarea de la Kyoto Ceramics, da, celebra firmă japoneză). Pe atunci orice român care nu avea servici mergea la AVX şi era angajat sigur, salariu minim, cu care puteai să-ţi plăteşti chiria şi facturile.

Numai că eu aveam servici, la Sheridan Fruit Co în downtown Portland, tot cu salariu minim, dar nu-mi plăcea, mă plângeam la toţi de tot felul de probleme, reale de altfel, (ceea ce ştiam eu atunci nu era decât vârful aisbergului problemelor mele, una din chestiile pe care am aflat-o mai târziu a fost că în spatele magazinului a fost o biserică satanistă iar pastorul stătea în blocul acela, chiar îl cunoşteam din vedere, venea tot timpul pe la magazin îmbrăcat în negru, cu ţăcălie şi cu o prietenă şi aia îmbrăcată în negru şi platinată). (Chiar într-o zi a fost un shooting şi pe acolo pe strada aia şi a venit un poliţist şi ne explica cum să procedăm în caz de... bla bla dar vorbea cam în jargoane şi eu nu pra am înţeles ce spunea). Mereu erau maşini de poliţie pe acolo.

Deci m-au sfătuit să plec de la Mladin şi să mă mut în Vancouver în statul vecin, adică peste fluviul Columbia, la 10-20 mile distanţă de Portland unde "sigur voi găsi servici" la Kyocera cum spuneau toţi atunci. Şi m-am mutat. Şi eram aşa de happy, încercam să uit de probleme, de fapt nu aveam timp să mă mai gândesc la tot ce s-a întâmplat până atunci, aveam o maşină, aveam un servici, şi restul puteau fi doar nişte coincidenţe nenorocite.

Dar am început să am probleme cu maşina, am lipsit de vreo 2 ori de la servici, şi am început să dau semne de psihoză. Pe 12 sau 13 ianuarie m-au dat afară de la Sheridan. (cred că pe lângă eu mai umbla cineva la maşină, odată mi s-a stricat distribuitorul la care mai umblam şi eu iar odată am condus din downton Portland în Vancouver, vreo 15 mile, cu o scurgere la pompa de benzină, lăsând o dâră de benzină tot drumul). Dar pentru cei care cred că totul a fost din vina mea, urmează aici exemplul. În noaptea de 31 decembrie 1995 am fost acasă la Nelu Ciorba, cel care seamănă cu Victor Orban, actualul director de la Romanian Times, care lucra şi el ca tehnician la AVX,  şi avea o bisericuţă pocăită (el era lider şi tot timpul spunea la predici că anul 2000 de fapt era anul 1996, că s-a greşit la calcularea datei naşterii lui Iisus, dar dacă cineva se uită în ziarul lui, va vedea că el spune tot felul de chestii din astea de 18 ani) într-un spaţiu închiriat la o biserică americană, având serviciile decalate cu ale lor, cu Dan Costan, pe care abia îl cunoscusem şi lucra şi el la AVX ca tehnician, cu nevestele şi familia lui Ciorba. (Ciorba avea şi o fetiţă mică de vreun an care după aceea a devenit autistă). Am ascultat ceva muzică clasică la un pick-up antic, am stat la masă după care am plecat acasă devreme.

Mie în România îmi plăcea să citesc ştirile, am avut o colecţie (incompletă) de România Liberă până am plecat, acolo am citit, şi în Evenimentul despre loteria vizelor.

Apăruse la uşa "noului nostru apartament" din Vancouver nişte mostre promoţionale ale ziarului local, The Columbian şi mă abonasem. Deci a doua zi, pe 1 ianuarie când mă uit în ziar ce văd. La 100-200 metri de unde stăteam s-a întâmplat ceva descris cu atâta talent în ziarul local. În afară de Columbianul, unde trebuie să plăteşti să vezi tot articolul, mai este aici, unde poţi să-l vezi dacă îţi faci un cont gratuit.

http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P2-23349630.html

Eu încă nu am cont acolo, nu am avut timp. Dar îmi amintesc două chestii. S-a tras cu o carabină uşoară, de sport. Încărcătura a fost modificată pentru a nu răni prea mult. Totul a fost simulat, cu un mic detaliu, tipa a ajuns totuşi în spital cu un glonţ într-o fesă.

(Cu sora tipei din articol am lucrat în 1999-2000 la AVX-Kyocera, era măritată cu un mexican şi a fost gravidă o perioadă cât a lucrat acolo, nu-mi amintesc dacă a născut până am plecat.)

Chiar la AVX mai lucra o tipă Lăcrămioara, soţia lui Stelică Andrei, Elena (Lăcrămioara) Andrei dar mai în vârstă, cu facultate din România, era în schimbul I şi câteodată venea şi vorbea cu mine, dar imediat o chemau la interfon (pager). Lăcră este mişto, modelă, şi tot aşa, brunetă. Cred că am poze în calc pe undeva, cu Stelică sigur.

Azi am fost la biblioteca locală şi m-am uitat la microfilmele cu Oregonianul din perioada respectivă. Nu am putut să găsesc articolul dar răsfoind aşa microfilmele am văzut ştiri din perioada de atunci care mi-au trezit multe amintiri şi m-au ajutat să-mi amintesc data când s-a întâmplat faza. Tipa venea acasă de la o petrecere sau de la o discotecă ceva de anul nou. După ce mi-am amintit data, am găsit articolul în două locuri pe web.

Vorbesc unii politicieni de la noi de compromisuri bla bla. E doar tragere de timp şi fugă de răspundere. Am încercat de atâtea ori. Chiar azi la un moment dat la jumătatea zilei am deschis nu ştiu ce opţiune din Firefox şi până la data aia aveam vreo 2000 mii de căutări pe google de când am instalat ultima dată Fedora, cam o lună. Cam tot de atâtea ori am încercat să stau de vorbă cu oamenii în ultimii ani. Toţi vorbesc în doi peri, scot din context, te păcălesc şi trag de timp. De aceea mi-am făcut blog. Eu am să încerc între timp să postez cât mai multe.

Chiar, postul de ambasador al României în SUA în perioada aceea a fost vacant, chiar înainte de a merge în spital, prin februarie 1996 a venit dl.Geoană.

Postarea următoare va fi despre cum am fost arestat în februarie, 96, pentru că făcusem o psihoză şi sunam tot timpul 112 (echivalentul din State) până a venit poliţia şi m-a luat şi am stat o noapte în jail, încă o noapte nedormită după 7 la rând, voi scana documentele, ce s-a întâmplat în spital, şi după şi procesul (am fost acuzat de assault IV (simple) şi resisting arrest, când a apărut poliţia o ţineam pe nevastă-mea care vroia să fugă (ăsta a fost assault-ul) şi după aia a şi fugit şi nu a văzut cum două poliţiste m-au dat cu spray şi m-au bătut cu bastoanele). Am scris pe scurt despre acestea în diferite alte postări, voi încerca să scriu mai detaliat. Acuzaţiile au fost amânate pentru doi ani în vederea anulării în anumite condiţii. După ce mi-am luat un avocat care mi-a şi dat banii înapoi (toţi banii noştri, 800 dolari).

Tot ce a fost aici nu a fost fără compensare, pentru mine a fost şi foarte exciting în acelaşi timp, viaţa în America are un farmec inegalabil, dar din păcate au suferit şi alţii şi nu aş vrea eu să rămân de fraier la toate fazele astea.

Monica şi Dan Costan, ianurie 1996

(Când m-am mutat în Vancouver, Nelu Ciorba, care acum e la Romanian Times, mi-a făcut cunoştinţă cu Dan Laurenţiu Costan, care spunea că e născut cam prin 1970, din jud.Suceava, România. Ultima dată când vorbit cu el în faţă (nu la telefon) s-a declarat extremist şi mi-a spus că am o minte bolnavă. Nu ştiu exact cine este dar mai recent mi-a fost sugerat, indirect, că ar semăna cu recent decedatul Larry Hagman, JR din serialul Dallas).

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Credence

I post this here because it can be accessed publicly, i mean if i go somewhere in an office and i have to show it.

After my hospitalization in early 1996 we were living in Vancouver, WA. Things got better in the way i wasn't thinking of anything anymore. I was on Navane from a prescription given by doctor Proano Augusto of Vancouver that was my doctor at SW Washington Memorial, Vancouver, WA.

One day i saw an add from Express Personnel in the Oregonian, i guess. On Apple Way, off Beaverton Hilssdale Ave, in Portland. We both signed up for a 2 days training course in soldering with them.

We spent that weekend at the Marts in Salem. My ex-collegue from Bacău. Monday it was snowing and on I5 i stopped once to check tires i guess. A policeman stopped and offered his help but we were ok. So we went in Portland and at Express right in time for the course. I think Julian Mart managed to take me off Navane that weekend too.

They weren't many people in there. Can't remember exactly the names. The recruiter, a younger guy, brunet, with moustache. The instructor, Mary? Or something like that, a short and very common name. Students, besides me, Angela and a Mexican woman, i don't think there was nobody else.

Now, that i think, the instructor also reminds me of a celebrity. Always reading from a note book.

I remember her repeating as she was going through the material. "For soldering you need solder, flux and heat".

At the end of the two days course, since i scored high at tests, the recruiter and her decided to give me an electronics technician test. Since i went to a specialty electrotechnical high school and because of one semester of electronics in faculty, i did 3/4 of the test, perfectly. For the rest i ran out of time and i checked random answers.

In a couple of weeks i had an interview at Credence, onNimbus Ave, Beaverton building. Now there's some religious center in there http://goo.gl/maps/qyX37.

Anyways. On April 14 i started working there. Swing shift, 11 dollars an hour (double minimal wage at the time), in the same time with two other guys. Robert "Bob" James, a Mormon (big Bob as Dino called him, cause he was like... 300 pounds, blue eyes, in his 50s), Lyle Hall, fired from Intel an me. There was another guy in that shift, Bill Appel or something driving and old Nissan Z with a hole in the floor and a guy... can't remember, another Bob, from Colorado, who had a car with a windsurfing bord on top and everyday was bragging about coming directly from Hood River and in the weekends was remodeling houses he bought for resale, with a green license plate that started with the word SEX. I think swing shift was partially overlapping with day. Dale, a blonde guy who set on fire a few racks when he left one day and forgot something and i saw the smoke coming out. And a few others.

As usually with all of my jobs in the US i had several bosses.

First month they trained me on power supplies. Got shocked a few times.

Then i started testing boards for test heads on a minicomputer. I was packing and shipping the good ones. The other guy working at those, Eugene from the day shift was fixing them. Later, i got trained by Eugene and started fixing those myself. Can't remember who was doing the final tests, but i was doing huge amounts, good quality (no returns or complaints from field techs like from Eugene's), lots of overtime and my day shift supervisor was overjoyed. Credence was charging companies that were using their testers around the world with $700 a board and i was fixing at least 10 every day. Didn't know exactly what i was doing, just putting the board in a fixture tied to a minicomputer, running tests and replacing parts accordingly. Those were highly precise, ultra fast, nanoseconds circuits. Lyle, who knew electronics, told me that nobody understood those circuits made of Schottky diodes anyways except for maybe the designer, "they were too weird".

My buddy Lyle. We were together all the time. Many time he was just pulling me from the bench for long cigarette and hot chocolate breaks. He was coming to me smiling and braking an imaginary stick in front of my eyes: "Brake" time!

Together we went to Insurance Auto Auction and bought cars. I had this old Fairmont and he did not have a car so he bought him an old Chevy Cavalier or something for 100 bucks (nobody else bid) (he was smart, that car was not wrecked and he just started to use it, after going to the most praised by him Les Schwab (for whom i worked next year) to balance tires, that were still under warranty) and i bought an 89 white Escort GT that was hit in the front for 900 bucks. His car was ready and running but mine needed a radiator, hood, bumper, fender and some... frame straightening, which i did at Lyle's apartment. Using a cable, i tied the frame to a tree and backed up until i straightened the body enough to be able to put those parts on. One problem though. Unibody type frame was broken some place and every time i was pushing the gas pedal was going... right i guess, a little bit, and every time i pushed the brake, it was going left or something like this. But not much. To me, it was good, and the 1.9 liter engine on a small car like that seemed good enough.

Many other things happened in there. I am both nostalgic and sick when i remember.

But the main reason i dig through this stuff is this.

One summer day, before i bought the Escort, or maybe after and i was just still driving the Fairmont that day, i don't know, in the afternoon it was very nice and warm. Only Lyle and me on the floor. All the walls surrounding the ground level floor had big windows made of dark glass and we could see outside.

Maybe a dozens of police like cars marked ATF surrounded the building. One of them parked in the back of my Fairmont, blocking it. But they did not come into the building and proceeded in the bushes behind it, towards the Fanno Creek. Lyle pulled me in the middle of the floor.

A few minutes later they came out of the bushes with an Asian looking guy. Very thin, dressed in a dark-gray, very simple, sports like suite. A very strange face like i never saw before. Not Chinese. He was not agitated, barely moving, but looking upset. Nothing in his hands.

Later Lyle and i saw a small, old car with a blue static coat and a badge like ours inside parked nearby, but we knew it was only us in the building. Lyle said maybe it was the janitor or something. I was kinda shook for the rest of the day.

Later that summer they started laying out everybody in that building. My part of the job was sold to a start-up in Milpitas, California. So one day in a very beautiful September i drove 700 miles in my new Escort over there for an interview. But this is another story.

Saturday, June 8, 2024

June 8

11:45 Here we are almost 25 years in the first century of the third millennium, in the internet and supercomputers and AI age and we can not figure things so simple as earthquakes, tides and even clouds and lightening.

Few people, even among mathematicians and physicist have an intuition on how big our planet is and of the planetary forces involved with keeping the Earth in Sun's orbit or Moon in Earth's are. How big would have to be a cable to keep the Moon in rotation around Earth if if wasn't for gravity.

Total mass of the oceans on Earth is about 0.02% of the mass of Earth, while for  the core, solid and liquid, which is denser than the rest, that value is 30%. Gravitational acceleration (g) exerted by the Moon on objects on surface of the Earth is about 4 orders of magnitude less than the well known g=9.81 m/s2. And by the Sun, about half.

What is going to be attracted more by the Moon and Sun?

I start to believe that oceans tides are not given by the direct pull of the Moon on water but by raising of the ocean floor with rotation of Earth in Moon and Sun's gravity field due to the pull of the two celestial bodies, and unevenly on the core. Tides are more like tsunamis though calm and predictable. The Earth is acutally pulsating, like a cosmic heart. Or lung.

The variable force excreted by tides on shores could actually be the reason of "faults" in the case of Pacific Ring of Fire. The energy of the tides lead to a constant move up and down of the "plates" against each other and friction that creates extra heat that in turn melt the mantle that is already hot and create the magma chambers and not convection. Convection currents within the liquid core are chaotic because of greater pull on the core and its constant motion under the gravity of Sun and Moon.

In the case of Atlantic, due to size and shape, the water is actually oscillating left-right, and tides are amplified by the oscillation and the "fault" is in the middle.

So how can we trust each other when we live in these cosmic lies?

Two days ago i saw an article that said  the Geological Survey of the State of Oklahoma has published charts with the raising of the Earth (ground tides) that can go up to 30 cm (one foot). However when i contacted the Survey they told me they can't find  those (but didn't say if they did that or not).

There are forces in this world that want to keep us in the dark because predicting earthquake has such a strategical value to them. So they prefer to lie to 7 billion people or how many we are right now.

And use AI, garbage and thousands of extras to constantly frame, sabotage and torture me who i am just a messenger. Do we have time for this?

1:12 Freed hostages is just a meme?

1:26 Last night before McMinville at 3:30 AM i heard this song on the radio. Then after, i was racing with a Milky Way train of cisterns and when i was left to pass it, in a narrowing (right lane ending) area, and with a car blocking my way to finish the pass, i almost got squeezed out of the road by it.

I do believe more than ever that this song is about death by gas chamber, him (megalomaniac half skinhead in sarcastic evil voice "Phil" being the executioner "first time last time") and in this version the cymbals, synths are imitating the sound of gas hissing. This song is a shame to music and art and should be banned.


2:20 We don't need no education...
 
Messi și Marina...


3:24 B...c i'm Madonna... And she didn't get arrested?

Rock and Roll Fantasy. In February 1996, after not sleeping for a week, part of it being again the neighbors upstairs, i got arrested, in Vancouver, WA, by a couple of Police women and i now suspect they were actually Joan Jett and Lita Ford, my HS class mates. More than that, i was kept in jail after signing a document for being released on bail. False arrest and imprisonment are not subject to statutes of limitations. But how the two got to be cops in Vancouver? Who was Janet Anderson?

To me, is important because on the form for naturalization i have to say if i have ever been arrested. If those two were not real cops, technically i was not.

And the judge. Spent that night in jail, unlwafully, again not sleeping, with my face and eyes burning from the pepper spray for which i was not treated, in the morning i got interviews by a funny bald man, then i was finally brough to court, in a jail suit that had a cut in the genital area, with no underwear. I was falling asleep and then the judge gave me to read a paper printed with capitals that started with "I APOLOGIZE TO ALL NATIONS..." just to see if i can read.

But who was the judge? By the name Stocker, 83 back then, i think he was no other than...

After i saw the judge (and Janet Anderson) they sent me home. However, i wanted to go first to the hospital. At the ER they took blood sample, blood pressure and they gave me a... vision test.

Then they took me to the Washington Memorial whatever, the local psychiatric hospital. No fluids nothing after a week of not sleeping, eating or drinking. Dan Costan bought me something to eat, with nothing to drink.

In the  hospital they gave me a pill and i slept 12 hours. When i woke up, dr.Proano was ready with the diagnosis. Schizophrenia.

I struggled with dehydration for the next 3 weeks i was in the hospital. Now i now what they wanted. A stroke.