Wireless Library Woes

Well, after what seemed a flawless January for wireless internet service here at the Washington County Library, February has proved they are still just as incompetent this year as they were last year. The wireless has gone down every Friday afternoon at about four to four-thirty. Sometimes it’s been fixed by Saturday morning, but other times it hasn’t been fixed till Monday. It’s mid-afternoon on Tuesday, and it is still down.

Sure wish they would get their heads out of their …

Webpage Update

Oakley-doakley, I finally got around to fix’n a few things that have been bugging me about my website.

First off, for those of you who have been using browsers such as Opera, and the (deep breath here) Netscape derivatives (shutter) you may have noticed problems on the Friends and Family page. Well, I have recoded that page so now even you (yes you!) can view the page the way it was meant to be viewed.

All the pictures are organized along the left and the fancy horizontal lines now separate each friend and description. Most visitors may never have had a problem viewing this page, it seemed variables included customized browser font size, screen resolution and the actual browser itself; so if you don’t know what I’m talking about, don’t worry, just know that there was a problem and it is now fixed. I know, I know. Whatever. ๐Ÿ˜€

Go here to see My Friends & Family Page:
page18.html and page18.html

The other thing I did, was update my Personals page. I updated all the dates and ages, it’s another year after all. And, I added a new ad, it’s not as good as the original ones, but so what, it’s not like the page is exactly serving it’s purpose. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Those changes can be looked at here:
page06.html and page06.html

The Story Unfolds

My trial was set for March 22nd, 2006 at 9:00AM. And with the problem I was having retrieving my belongings from the St. George City Police Department, I was afraid I was not going to be able to get them until the trial. For some reason, they were being kept in evidence. My options, as I understood them at the time was to have the trial moved up as close as I could so I wouldn’t have to go so long without my bicycle, backpack, jacket, cellphone, and everything else the cops had stolen from me.

So, I filed a request for a hearing on dismissal. I was hoping that if the case was dismissed, I would be able to retrieve my belongings. As you know from several previous posts, my shoes were not made for walking! And it was starting to get chilly. And, well, the sheer principle of the matter. They had taken my things, and were holding them; both for no reason.

But, as it turned out, the problem was that Patrol Sargent Gordon McCracken had not filed the paperwork as he was supposed to, and that was the reason the evidence tech would not return my things. The evidence tech suggested I e-mail McCracken. I kept my message short and sweet:

Date: Tue, 25 Oct 2005 13:14:37 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: My property
Gordon, this is Wesley, the homeless guy you arrested on Friday the 21st. I have been informed by Troy Porter, Evidence Technician with the St. George City Police, that you have not completed the paperwork concerning my property, and that he would not release it until you do.

Receiving no response by the following day, I e-mailed chief Marlon Stratton of the St. George City Police:

Date: Wed, 26 Oct 2005 13:08:22 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: retrieving my belongings
Hello Chief, this is Wesley Campbell. I am writing to you because I have been unable to retrieve my belongings from the St. George City Police Department and would appreciate your assistance.
I have been in contact with Troy Porter, Evidence Technician, who has informed me that Gordon McCracken, Patrol Sergeant, has not completed the necessary paperwork concerning my backpack now held in evidence. Mr. Porter has informed me that he is unable to release my possessions until Mr. McCracken completes the paperwork.
Both Mr. Porter and I have e-mailed Mr McCracken to no avail.
Though there is a case pending against me, neither the backpack nor it’s contents are relevant and may be returned. Furthermore, I am in need of the backpack and all of it’s content for my chosen profession. Until I receive these belongings, I am unable to do my work or adequately prepare my defense.
Will you please take whatever actions are required to have my things released to me in a more timely fashion? I would appreciate it.
Thank you,
Wesley Campbell.

Mr. Stratton replied the same day with:

Date: Wed, 26 Oct 2005 15:55:47 -0600
Thanks for the email. I will look in to it and see what we can do.
Chief Stratton.

The following day, I called up the evidence tech first thing and received a very enthusiastic greeting and assurance that I could meet him at the impound lot and retrieve my belongings. We made the appointment, and I did so.

Having my things negated my immediate need for a dismissal of the case for the purpose of retrieving my property, so I was not so concerned whether I got the hearing or not. It was a good thing too, because, though the hearing was granted, it was scheduled for December 10th, 2005.

In the hearing, I read the following statement:

It is my understanding, that, as a general rule, state and federal statutes are to be read in light of their respective constitutions. Though the state of Utah, being a republican form of government, has the authority, to write statutes, such statutes are not to be construed to impair or deny the rights of American Citizens. (Utah Cons. Article 1 Section 25) Its jurisdiction is limited to certain enumerated objects, which concern all the members of the republic, but which are not to be attained by the separate provisions of any.
As a member of the Republic, I am a Sovereign American Citizen and therefore outside the jurisdiction of Utah statutes. I have never enumerated myself subject to the state of Utah, it’s subdivisions, or any other State of the Union or the Federal Government. I am bound only by common law and reserve the inherent and inalienable rights, as secured by the Constitution of Utah Article 1 Section 8, to life and liberty. Which common law prohibits only the violation of another individual’s right to life or liberty.
Neither of the charges, which the City of St. George has brought against me in this case, constitute actions violating any body’s rights to life or liberty. Nor can the City of St. George provide evidence that I have ever waived my sovereignty status as a natural born American Citizen, which I am.
Therefore, it is my request to this court that this case be dismissed.

Though the judge did agree with me, he felt he needed to be reminded of any case law that supported my statement. I had not prepared myself to present any case law, though my notes were replete with them. However, I had not been allowed to take my backpack into the courtroom, and therefore did not have my notes handy.

The judge denied me the dismissal. I was prepared for that, though, and requested the trial be moved up to some date in January. This he was willing to do out of pity for not upholding the law, and much to the prosecutor’s disapproval. The trial was set for January 18th, 2006.

I also asked for a copy of the police report, but the judge just informed me that I needed to file that request in writing with the city prosecutor. At this point, I still did not have any idea what McCracken had said that would cause the prosecutor to believe he had a legitimate case against me.

The Trouble With Continence

It should be noted that I may have included a spelling mistake in the letter to that young woman (from the “Sometimes” post). You’ll notice that at one point in the letter I use the word ‘countenance’. In my rough draft, I misspelled it ‘continence’. I was horrified when I had discovered the definition of that word. The difference in meaning of these two words is devastating to say the least.

Continence: 1. Self-restraint; moderation. 2. Voluntary control over urinary and fecal discharge. 3. Partial or complete abstention from sexual activity. –The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language

I had used my word processor OpenOffice.org to prepare the letter with the spell-check option active. Since ‘continence’ is a real word, I was not notified that I had spelled countenance wrong.

I had meant the sentence to read “your beauty extends far beyond just your appearance, it shines in your countenance [demeanor, mannerism, moral support or approval, etc.] as well”, but what she may have received was the unintended “your beauty extends far beyond just your appearance, it shines in your continence [sexual restraint] as well”

All I have is the rough draft. I have not seen the actual letter since I sealed it in the envelope. It is a good bet, however, that she was presented with the incorrect spelling and it’s unintended and corrupt meaning. Did she notice? Was that the source of her fear? Is it possible that she and her family had recognized the word and assumed it to be correct in it’s context?

Now, I am more humiliated than before. I had meant to encourage and thank a woman for her kindness, but instead I may have degraded and embarrassed her. If that was the source of their scare, then they were warranted in their fears. How could anyone educated in the vocabulary of those words read that mistake and come to any other conclusion than what they did?

I can just picture her reading that letter and finding it just as ugly and repulsive as that drawing the character Napoleon gave that girl in the movie Napoleon Dynamite. She and her family must think I’m disgusting.

I am so ashamed. I just wanted to show my appreciation to her for how she had treated me. I am a monster. Anyone who writes something so important in such a careless manner deserves all the humiliation I’ve experienced this past month. I hope she will be able to forgive me someday.

Webpage Update

Well, I have provided a workaround for the missing Mini-Me icon problem on the geocities server. The icon is now visible on both the 100free.com and geocities.com servers. Yippy!

As a consequence, Waldo’s Web was inaccessible on the 100free.com server most of yesterday and this morning. I don’t know what the problem was there, I deleted the old pages, but the server wasn’t letting me upload the new pages. Well, It worked fine this morning, so now both sites are up and operating. ๐Ÿ˜€

As a reminder, if one site doesn’t load, you can always go to the other. Waldo’s Web is located on the 100free.com server at:

and on the geocities.com server at:

Please note that geocites restricts bandwidth usages on a per hour basis, so Waldo’s Web may be down often, depending on how many visitors I get on that server.

Terrifying Video

As big a fan as I am of Emma Watson (yes, another post on my favorite celebrity crush), I do not often go out of my way to watch the videos of her located on Emma-Watson.net. I just browse the news from time to time and, on occasion, I’ll watch one of the interviews. (I am a much bigger Superman fan, and I’ve been keeping just as close an eye on the production journals of the long-awaited Superman Returns movie at Brian’s Journals.)

Anyway, on the February 14th post, Megan made the comment that Em was “politely and sincerely asking people in the crowd not to push and shove one another”. I thought oh, this ought to be cute, so I watched the video.

Friends, I was in absolute terror! It was clear and plain as day to see that Miss Watson was SCARED!

I have never been to one of those things, and find it hard to believe that it was done in such a careless manner. When I think of signings, I picture an organized single file line with the celebrity at the end sitting in a comfortable chair, greeting guests and signing autographs. What I saw on that video was absolute chaos. And I hate that word (because the concept doesn’t exist). It was terrifying for me to watch. It was Emma against a mob!

Well, Miss Watson did a spectacular job in handling the situation. I do not know how she does it. I would have thrown my hands up and left. I’m glad I’m not a 15 year old celebrity. And I don’t care how much money she makes, She is not paid enough to tolerate that kind of behavior, from fans and whoever orchestrated that signing. Period.

I think, from now on I’ll just stick with the interviews, where she is calm and relaxed and not terrified for the safety of her life and the wellbeing of her fans.

Webpage Update

Couple things, first off, you may notice Waldo’s Web now has an associated icon. (100free server only, Yahoo! SUCKS!) It’s a Mini-Me! ๐Ÿ˜€

Also, I wrote my own biography on my Emma Watson Fan Page. And I updated some of the favorites info with what she told me in her letter. ๐Ÿ˜‰

You can view that change at:
page24.html or page24.html

Em’s Scare

While browsing through the news at Emma-Watson.net, I came across an old interview she had given to promote Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I thought it fit snug into the the topic of my last post. Another display of the confusing misunderstanding woman have with the concept of scary.

Q: Is it true that there are hundreds of fan love letters you get each day?
Emma: Completely true! This flattery is scary at times. The problem is with the guys who write me, they refer to an image, a fictionous character, however, I am not Hermione.

I find it interesting, that the reason she is scared by the “love letters” she receives isn’t because she feels threatened by the guys who send them, but because some of them think she is someone she is not. To me, this might be cause for concern (for the mental wellbeing of the guy), disgust (for not being accepted for who she is), or even pity, but it does not fall into the category of scary.

Scary: Causing fright or alarm. –American Heritageยฎ Dictionary of the English Language

I do agree, however, that it is bound to be scary for a woman as beautiful and wonderful as Miss Watson to be receiving “love letters” from guys she does not know. I cannot even imagine professing a “love” for a woman I do not know or have never even met.

And Miss Watson is correct, she is not Hermione. She is her own woman, and an exceptional one at that. I have had the privilege of reading many firsthand accounts of her kind thoughtfulness. She has been handling her fame far greater than any woman in her situation should be expected to.

For the record, though I am one of the many guys who have sent Miss Watson a letter, my letter was not a love letter. I wrote a letter of encouragement and respect from one actor to another. I praised her talent and thanked her for the entertainment she has provided.


I’ve been discouraged this past week. On Monday I received some devastating news pertaining to a thank-you card I bought for a young woman who has been kind to me. Apparently, the card scared her and her parents.

Though I cannot quote the kindness poem on the front of the card (I don’t even remember the author), I will post the contents of my personal message to her.

Dear Miss [name omitted],
I don’t know if you remember me, but you have greeted me on a few occasions at church. For that great kindness, I wish to thank you. To me, you are an angel. When it seemed as though all were lost, your light has proved otherwise and provided me with the hope and inspiration I was so desperate to receive. No other woman in two years has displayed such kindness towards me. Thank you. You have become the highlight of my weekend, and thoughts of you continue to lift my spirit throughout the week. Words cannot express my appreciation towards you. You are a wonderful woman. Your beauty extends far beyond just your appearance, it shines in your countenance as well. More women should have such qualities. Indeed, I envy the man you will choose to be your husband, he will be blessed above all others. Were others as kind as you, this world would be a better place. To me, you will always remain a radiant glimpse of the divine millennium to come. May you always cherish our Lord and be the example you are.
With great gratitude and appreciation,

Bro. Wesley Owen Campbell.
[my e-mail address-omitted automatically by blogger.com, not me :-)]
Post Script: Sorry I am too nervous to talk to you in person, you should know you have that effect on boys. ๐Ÿ˜€

When I wrote the letter, I truly envisioned her sharing it with her parents, who would congratulate her and use the time to teach charity through kindness. I thought they would be happy for her and use her as an example for her younger siblings. I had even given the card to her dad and told him what it was and why I was giving it to her. We thanked each other and shook hands. He seemed happy to pass it on to her, just as I had envisioned.

Nothing in my wildest fears could have prepared me for their reaction.

They went to my bishop with fears, unwarranted. They had presumed, that because I live in tent out in the desert, that I was some kind of deviant with an ulterior motive. Accusations formed out of a prejudice I had thought her and her parents insusceptible. It was that very kindness of not treating me as though I was some dirty, homeless bum, that I was so appreciative of in the first place. It was that very kindness I was thanking.

That hurt me more than if they had never treated me nice.

I am, however, sure the part that scared them didn’t have anything to do with what the card said, or the message I wrote in it. Instead, I think it was the fact that I gave her the card in the first place. I have never understood why, but for some reason, woman have always found me scary. A fact that has caused much pain and sorrow in my life. Possibly more so this past week than at any other time.

I remember a time when, while working at a service station, I was sweeping up the parking lot. The parking lot was somewhat full that day and my path was weaved between the cars. As I slowly circled one of the vehicles (a suburban), the occupants inside locked, one-by-one, each of the doors just as I neared each. A very peculiar situation to say the least. I had a broom and dustpan with a long handle and paying particular attention to the trash I was sweeping up. I was a nice dressed, clean cut, late teens, good-looking, young man-nothing to be concerned about. Yet for some reason, they were. They were scared of me.

How many times have I heard from woman, “I thought you were so scary when I first met you”? Too many. Every place I’ve ever worked at, I have been in positions to work with and know many women. Their responses to me are the same, for some unexplainable reason, I am scary.

Looks hasn’t had anything to do with it either. Through the years, I have traveled through many different appearances. I have a shaved head now, due to scalp issues, but for most of my adult life, I had hair like the character Sam Malone in the television series Cheers. Nothing to scare anyone. I keep a close trimmed beard now, in times past, I had what is referred to, by some, as a goatee. I admit, at least one old woman told me that I looked like the devil when I had that, but I contributed it too her generation, when such things were frowned upon.

I also have to admit, that eyebrows taper and hang low above my eyes. If I’m not expressly smiling, it is possible for others to see them and come to the conclusion that I concentrating, glaring, or otherwise angry. I am not, it is just my eyebrows. I remember one particular woman , who would tease me cause of it; “Oh Waldo,” she would say in a heavy Slovak accent, “so serious”. Until this past week, I thought the eyebrows were the core of why woman misunderstood me so much.

Another interesting observation that should be made is one I do not and cannot understand. I was listening to a song Britney Spears sings titled Sometimes. This is a very interesting song to me. It is about a woman who likes her boyfriend, yet the lyrics say:

โ™ช Sometimes I Run, Sometimes I Hide, Sometimes I’m Scared of You…โ™ช

This is a new perspective for me. Like the Clueless realization from an earlier post. What if these woman were afraid and fearful not of me, but of what they desire in relation to me? Is it possible that even Utah woman are attracted to me? In the two years that I have been trying to gain female acceptance, is it possible that I have misread their reactions to me? Could they be afraid of what they will do in relation to me, that that causes the reaction?

Well, It is certainly a flattering prospect, and one I would openly embrace in all my conceit. When I see myself in the mirror, I see and attractive man, who should not be single. But what am I but confused?

I do not believe I did anything wrong by that thank-you card, or the hand printed message I wrote. There is no hidden agenda. I appreciate all kindness shown me, especially given my current situation (being homeless, of which I am trying hard to get out of). And the only regret I have pertaining to the letter was that I used the word ‘choose’ instead of select. I realized that the instant I wrote it. Perhaps I could have included a sentence pertaining to honoring her parents, whom, I perceived, had done a splendid job raising such a wonderful woman. I even included it in in my rough draft. It didn’t fit, I thought it would have been taken as too serious and the letter received as preaching, instead of praise and appreciation.

In fact, that was why I had included the post script, to lighten up the letter after such seriousness. I though it would be something her little siblings could joke about, a cute, healthy tease.

Well, sometime, I will know why women fear me. At this point, all I can do is speculate. I do not know women, I have no idea how they think. It is obvious, however, they do not think the way I do.


Well, as you know from January’s only entry, I got my autograph of Emma Watson on October 21st, 2005. There was also something else that happened on that day.

As I approached, from the south, the stop sign at 100 East and Tabernacle, and while waiting for cross-traffic to proceed, St. George City Policeman Gordon McCracken of the Mountain Bike Patrol pulled up next to me on my left and another unidentified bicycle policeman stopped behind me.

McCracken greeted me with “Hello Wesley”. (He had harassed me on several occasions previously) He then informed me that he noticed I did not have a “light” on my bicycle. He asked if I knew I was supposed to have one. I responded “no”. He then asked how long I had been riding in St. George. I told him over a year and half. Then he asked “And nobody’s ever told you’re supposed to have a light on your bike?” Again, I answered “no”.

At this point, he asked, “What’s your full name?” I answered, and asked him, “What, are you going to write me a little ticket?” He said, “I don’t know yet”, and asked for my date of birth. I told him.

Then he asked, “do you have any ID?” I told him “no”. He asked, “you don’t have a driver’s license?”, I said “no”. Then he asked if I had an ID from any other state, again, I answered “no”.

At this point, I asked McCracken, “why don’t you call the Sheriff?”, at which point he became visibly angry and pointed his finger at me, stating “we don’t play that game!” He then turned to the other bicycle policeman and asked for the ticket book. The other policeman handed him the ticket book, and he began to write in it.

After a moment of silence while McCracken wrote, he asked me, “what’s your social security number?” I answered, “I don’t have one”. He became angry again and started to yell at me. He yelled, “yes you do, everyone has one, you just don’t want to tell me!” I said, “no, I do not have one.” He continued to yell at me, saying, “you either don’t want to tell me, or you can’t remember what it is!”

At this point, I began to dismount my bicycle to face the idiot. He was still yelling violently towards me something about how everyone receives a social security number at birth. I interrupted him, while I dismounting, saying, “dude, I know more about this subject than you will ever know.”

This made him more angry. With his finger jabbing violently in the air towards me, he yelled, “never call me dude! You call me mister, sir, officer or sergeant, but you never call me dude! You know, I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth! Do you understand me!” I did not respond verbally, nor did I look away from him. He yelled again, “do you understand me!” Again I said nothing.

He resumed his writing. After another moment of silence he told me, “here’s the thing, if you don’t have any ID, how do I know you are who you say you are? Do you see the predicament?” I indicated no, by shaking my head left and right. He asked, “do you see the predicament you are in?” Again, I indicated no, in the same manner.

Again he returned his attention to the ticket book. After another moment, he asked, “what’s your address?” I told him, “I do not have one.”

Upon hearing my voice, McCracken thrusts the ticket book and the pen, or pencil, down and proceeds to walk around his bicycle towards me. He instructed me to put my hands on my head and spread my legs apart. He then handcuffed me and led me across the sidewalk to the side of the nearby building. He then emptied my pockets and told me to lean against a short landscaping wall and radioed for transport.

As I waited in silence, the second policeman rummaged through my wallet and McCracken proceeded to look through my backpack.

When the third policeman arrived, McCracken led me to the patrol car and instructed me how to sit comfortably, where I sat in silence while my bicycle was loaded into the trunk. The transport policeman took me first to the Mountain Bike Patrol truck located at the Ben Franklin parking lot where he unloaded my bicycle, then onto the Washington County jail.

At no point did McCracken, or any other policeman, inform me that I was under arrest, or why I had been handcuffed and my possessions searched. Although it was clear that I was being “transported” I had assumed I was to be taken to the St. George City Police Station where the policemen would verify my identification through thumb-print and then release me.

Upon arrival at the Washington County Jail, I asked the transport policeman and a jail house worker (possibly a deputy) why I had been arrested. Neither one knew, and they both seemed to be struggling over the confusion as to why I was being booked. I spent the entire weekend in jail not knowing why, or what the charges were against me.

But that’s not all. After the judge released me on my own recognizance, the Purgatory staff forgot about me. My court had been done through video at sometime around 10:00 AM and 1:00 PM. I didn’t get released until 9:00 PM after I buzzed them on the two intercom system the jail implores at 7:00 PM.

I had to walk 20 miles to get home. It was 2:00 AM when I finally did. My bicycle was in ‘evidence’ along with my backpack. I stopped by the police station in town on the way home, but was told I had to get my things during the daytime hours. When I tried to do that, I was told that McCracken had not completed the paperwork to check-in the evidence, so it could not be released to me.

After a couple of days without my bike, and backpack (and everything in it, namely my computer, and cell phone), I e-mailed the chief of police and was finally able to retrieve my things the following day.