Yesterday I ran my second-ever competitive race, the Endangered Species Walk/Run 5K, described thusly: "co-hosted by the Department of Conservation, the Department of Natural Resources, the Department of Health and Senior Services, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the Jefferson City Parks, Recreation, and Forestry Department. The event raises funds to help restore habitat, conduct research and support education projects for endangered animals and plants in Missouri."

I've always been more of a meditative runner than a competitive one; for me, there's nothing better than a long, empty trail under a brooding sky with an intriguing mix on my MP3 player, and no one else in sight. Racing was fun when I was a kid--I was pretty darn good at the 50-yard dash back in the day--but has never interested me since. But once in a while I suffer from the temporary insanity of wanting to do it, maybe as a barometer of whether I'm as healthy as I think I am. The availability of an event nearby that benefitted something important to me made it the right choice.

It turned out to be a great time, and despite the lack of any focused training on my part (I'd been running a couple days a week and biking 3 or more days a week over the last few months), went like clockwork, almost surprisingly so. I think it was a combination of just enough good choices leading up to and during the race:

• I typically run on the Hinkson trail, which has no distance markers--which is good for a distraction-free run, but bad for having any idea how well I'm running, speed-wise. Earlier this week I did an extra run back on my old stomping grounds of the MKT trail, and timed my miles in a simulated 5K. My first mile was terrible--I was dragging badly--my second mile was great, and my third was somewhere in between. This run gave me something to beat and told me where my biggest weakness was: in the early stages.
• Made an effort to eat nutritionally and heartily and get good nights' sleep in the few days before the race. Mixed success, but good overall.
• I hardly ever drink coffee, but I decided to follow some advice I read on Runnersworld.com to drink a bit of coffee 30-60 minutes before a race, based on the idea that caffeine prepares the nervous system for exercise.
• I asked Ann Marie, herself a cross-country star in high school, what her pre-race prep was in her racing days. She emphasized a long warm-up, even to the extent of running the whole race course before the real race. While I didn't think I was up for quite that much, her advice made immediate sense with what I had experienced just a few days earlier--hitting a wall in my first mile that mentally dragged me down for the rest of the run. So when we got to the race site, in addition to my usual alternating 1-minute-jog/1-minute-walk warmup repeats, I ran a good six minutes non-stop at just below race pace. During that run I hit that draggy, breathing-hard wall, but did not hit it during the actual race, so this turned out to be critical and I'm now sold on the longer-warmup approach.
• I ended up being in a surprisingly good, practical frame of mind during the race itself. I'd thought through a few things ahead of time to avoid getting surprised, and switched between multiple mindsets throughout the race: checking in on myself to make sure I was at a comfortable pace, and then bumping it up a notch; looking around at the lovely morning sky and countryside; thinking about things I'm working on outside of the race; checking out the cute girl in front of me and then passing her (hey, motivation is motivation); and even zoning out altogether at a few points. The first mindset, which I kept coming back to regularly, was the most important; I think I underestimated myself a little early on, and was able to steadily increase my pace through the race, ending with the last 100 meters or so in a sprint.

Overall, it was just a really nice experience in a very positive setting. The running group was relaxed, easy-going, and good-natured, and the course was great (half asphalt and half Katy Trail, in a wide-open grassy/woodsy setting). For anyone masochistic enough to enjoy racing who's also concerned about protecting the natural world, I highly recommend it.

See a few photos documenting my race-day experience.

Labels: Environment, Life, Running

These little quizzes can get addictive. But this one was too 'me' to pass up. #1 surprises me a little, even though it was my favorite character as a kid. But then again, all of these are spot-on in their way.

Which Star Wars Character Are You?

You are Boba Fett

Because of your dark past you don't say much, and you don't have many close friends, but man do you look cool!

Boba Fett: 66%
Chewbacca: 64%
Han Solo: 63%
Qui-Gon Jinn: 62%
Lando Calrissian: 62%
Obi-Wan Kenobi: 61%
Darth Maul: 60%
Mace Windu: 60%
Count Dooku: 59%
Princess Leia: 55%

(This list displays the top 10 results out of a possible 21 characters)

Take the Star Wars Personality Test

Labels: Life

This past Friday, Ann Marie and I went to go see Arcade Fire play at the Starlight Theatre in Kansas City. After missing a chance to see them back in November '04, in a small club in Columbia just before they took off to massive acclaim, seeing them in a big venue seemed like a letdown to me--big shows always seem more impersonal, more detached, and of course more logistically annoying.

However, this show turned all those expectations on their head. The sound was great, the venue was great (open-air on a lovely night), and the band was phenomenal.

After a solid opening set by LCD Soundsystem (which was terrific for the first few songs, then became repetitious), Arcade Fire took the stage with stirring drama and never let up 'til the final note. I haven't listened to them as extensively as Ann Marie has, and the impression I had of them was a mostly melancholy and darkly-Gothic group.

However, what I saw that night was anything but--it was emotionally powerful music played with sheer ecstasy. Ten people on stage, throwing themselves into it with all they had. Running around the stage, switching instruments between most every song, trading roles with what seemed like controlled chaos. Singing their hearts out song after song, whether they were at a mic or not. It was inspiring to see such commitment and synchronicity, where no one was just providing backdrop--every member was alert and aware and engaged in each word, each moment of the songs. The playing and singing was tight and faithful to the original recordings; in Ann Marie's words the songs were just like they were on record, but more so--more intense, more expressive and emotional.

It's been a long while since I've seen a show that all-around successful, and a band so fully on one wavelength and executing in such passionate unison. Hard to think of a better band playing right now--they really convinced me.

See a few photos I took at the show, and below is a brief video clip I recorded of the rousing finale, "Wake Up".

Labels: Life, Music

Honestly, I would have guessed that I was the #2 character in each of these results. I must know myself pretty well... and yes, I'm a geek. So, without further ado, here are my results in the unquestionably official "Which Superhero Are You?" and "Which Supervillain Are You?" quizzes.

First up, hero. I'm a little surprised, but this does fit the grumpy-hermit thing.

You are Hulk
You are a wanderer with amazing strength.

My matches:

Hulk: 80%
Spider-Man: 70%
Catwoman: 70%
Green Lantern: 60%
Superman: 45%
The Flash: 45%
Robin: 42%
Iron Man: 40%
Batman: 35%
Supergirl: 35%
Wonder Woman: 35%

(Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test)

... And for the villain, a bit of a dark horse. I admit, I was hoping for Doctor Doom, which I think is still more accurate. But this one does have some flair.


You are Apocalypse
You believe in survival of the fittest and you believe that you are the fittest.

My matches:

Apocalypse: 69%
Dr. Doom: 67%
Mystique: 65%
Venom: 64%
Mr. Freeze: 64%
Magneto: 62%
Dark Phoenix: 62%
Lex Luthor: 57%
Juggernaut: 53%
Catwoman: 45%
The Joker: 44%
Two-Face: 37%
Green Goblin: 33%
Kingpin: 33%
Riddler: 28%

(Click here to take the Super Villain Personality Test)

Labels: Life

A recent issue of Fast Company magazine featured its annual "Fast 50" leaders in business innovation, and this year's focus was on concepts and products that address environmental, social, and health issues around the world--in other words, "green" business ideas that show concern for the world rather than obliviousness to it.

At first, I was really impressed with what they chose to highlight--there area lot of great innovations going on out there, including biodegradable plastic that comes from plant cellulose, the ingenious concepts used by Polyface Farms, peer-networking systems that work around government-imposed Internet censorship (as in China), reemerging electric car technology, some great ideas for cleaner energy sources.

But as I read and considered further, along with all the great ideas for replacing wasteful or toxic technology and practices with healthier substitutes, there was an unsettling thread running through many of the other featured items. The best way I can describe it is a type of business approach that addresses serious problems by adding something to them rather than by trying to truly solve them.

A few examples might explain this best. One featured item involved GAIN, a global partnership between social organizations, the UN, and big agriculture corporations. Their goal is to improve the nutrition of the poor around the world. An extremely important issue, no doubt. But the example the magazine chose to highlight was NutriSip, a nutrition-fortified drink that's distributed in juice-box-style plastic bags to Nigerian schoolchildren. It's even made with local ingredients, so how could that be troubling?

Well, call me picky, but it just seems wrong somehow that the children of Nigeria, with nutritious local food ingredients already available, will become reliant on a Swedish company to provide their nutrition for them, in a plastic-packaged liquid form. Children plagued by poverty are in dire need of nutrition, but "solutions" like this not only trade empowerment for reliance on outsiders, but base their very business model on a lack of self-sufficiency in the customers. If the Nigerian people become more self-sufficient and develop better ways to feed themselves, it will hurt this business venture. Never good to have capitalism blocking your way. It seems to me that it would be better for Nigeria if entrepreneurs found ways to help the people develop their own nutritionally-balanced food production that keeps everything local and removes reliance on outside manufacturing, packaging, and distribution. But where's the money in that?

Another featured item was GE's Water division and its new water-filtering technologies. GE is in the midst of acquiring many new water-purification companies and products, one of which is ZeeWeed, which is "powerful enough to transform Singapore's raw sewage into clean water". Brilliant, from a technological standpoint. What's troubling, though, is that same concept of adding something to a problem instead of truly solving its root cause. The immediate problem, of course, is that there's too much dirty water and not enough clean water. The approach taken here is, "how can we make the dirty water clean?" What seems to be ignored in the process is what seems to me the better question: "how can we prevent the water from getting dirty in the first place?"

Again, it might sound curmudgeonly, but this is troubling to me. We have a situation where industry and overpopulation are creating a massive problem of water pollution and scarcity. Clean water is perhaps the most essential and precious substance on earth (try living off diamonds, baby), and it's under the greatest threat it's ever been. But rather than looking for ways to protect it in the first place, GE's basing a massive corporate venture on ways to profit from polluted water. In other words, its business model relies on the existence of polluted, unusable water.

Now, so long as there are people, there will be polluted water. It's impossible to escape that altogether. But this scenario depends on the continuation of unsustainable polluting behavior by masses of people. Corporate success isn't about mere profit--it's about continuously growing profits, reaching greater and greater heights every quarter, forever. Because of that, only huge-scale pollution will sustain this huge-scale venture. And anything that reduces pollution works against the success of GE.

Think about that. Reducing pollution will weaken GE's business.

It's situations like that which should make us all tremble at the Frankensteinian implications or large-scale capitalism.

Do we really want to rely on distant corporations for our nutrition? Do we really want to rely on massive corporate juggernauts like GE for the most basic elements of life? Almost everywhere in the world, the ingredients for healthy, nutritious, clean, sustaining lifestyles are readily at hand. Corporate control of these resources has created a market where there doesn't need to be a market, and has created need where there doesn't have to be need. This has worked to distance all of us from our own self-sufficiency and virtually obliterated the practice of community self-sufficiency in the developed world.

A great example of a more positive direction is the much-heralded zeer pot, invented by Nigerian professor Muhammed Bah Abba. This simple, ingenious device nests one earthenware pot inside another, separated by an insulating layer of wet sand. It's simple, clean to make, uses readily available ingredients, and can be made, sold, and used locally, without reliance on any outsiders. The results not only improve health, through increased shelf-life for vegetables, but have cultural and local-economic benefits as well:

Traders use desert coolers in the weekly Dutse market which attracts 100,000 people. Farmers and their wives store vegetables in the coolers at home and sell from there or at the market at a good price, instead of sending out their daughters to hawk them at a poor one. This means the girls can go to school, while young men can earn a living in the village instead of going off to Kano. "Aubergines," says Muhammed Bah Abba, "can last for 21 days." Without a desert cooler, they last only a day and a half.

One of his aims is to improve the situation of married women who, traditionally, cannot leave their village. He runs education centres for them and has found that his desert coolers help them earn the money to buy soap and other things they need. They make soft drinks called kunu, zobo and lamurje and sell them from the coolers. They trade in fruit and vegetables, either grown by their husbands or bought from other farmers.

To me, this is real innovation. Something that integrates into and preserves existing cultures, improves quality of life, and creates economic opportunities that produce secondary benefits rather than more waste and pollution.

There's green, and then there's greed. While the new wave of concerned corporate ventures will produce many wonderful things, we must be careful that we don't lose more of our humanity in the process, and must keep "voting with our money" in the best ways we can.

Labels: Culture, Environment, Life

I don't normally write about technical or web topics, but as someone who's prone to information overload, this is one I thought was worth sharing.

I just recently started using the personalized home page option on Google. This allows anyone to customize the standard Google home page with all manner of information, news feeds, and miscellaneous gadgets and handy tools.

I normally try and keep up with a lot of different news sources--local news, some of the major progressive news sites, music news, all kinds of things. My most recent forays into audio blogs (more on that in a later post, probably) finally tipped the scales and pushed me to seek a better way to keep track of it all without having to take a long time to browse a ton of sites.

Enter the new Google home page. In just a few minutes of customizing, I now have quick access to a vast amount of information all on one page, with a layout that makes it easy to track and not get overwhelmed by. To give you an idea, my home page includes:

• News feeds from the Huffington Post, Alternet, Democracy Now, the New York Times, Pitchfork (music news), Ain't It Cool News (movie-geek news), and the Columbia Daily Tribune
• Updates on about a dozen audio blogs I subscribe to via RSS
• The latest messages in my Gmail account
• A three-day weather forecast
• A to-do list that automatically sorts by priority
• A 'sticky note' notes-to-self area
• A photo of the day from National Geographic
• A daily set of brain teasers and math puzzles
• A Buddhist 'thought of the day'
• A free font of the day
• A virtual guitar neck that can identify and play any chord

(There are also some very handy-looking iTunes widgets you can add, but since I don't have access to it at work, I haven't added them yet.) On a second tab--one click away--I have several more items on top of that, but this allows me to keep all of my most frequently accessed content all in one place and scan it so much more quickly than ever before. Sometimes I'll catch myself thinking, "okay, where do I need to go next?"--and then realizing that I'm already caught up on everything I need to be. It's been a great time saver so far, and is highly recommended.

Labels: Life

Now, most of the readers of this blog that I know of are sensible, capable individuals who don't need advice on routine matters such as driving in snow. But perhaps the little bit of advice contained herein will somehow find its way out to that chorus of "other people" who fill our days with the sonorous tones of engines gunning and tires skidding.

(Warning: For those who aren't in the mood for a long exploration of minutia, you might want to log off, go get some coffee, and get on with your day.)

Since our big snowfall a couple days ago, I've seen or heard literally dozens of people who seem to revert to a different state when driving in snow, something akin to Frankenstein's monster, the Hulk, an angry Homer Simpson, or a frustrated child. Seemingly never having really paid much attention to the dynamics of how their car moves and interacts with its environment, they not only rely completely on the controls of their car, but use them like a video-game controller--as a series of buttons or on/off switches with no subtlety.

The prime example of this, of course, is the type who guns their engine, floors it, when they start getting stuck in snow. Like the instinctive dumbing-down that happens when you're playing a video game and keep hitting the "fire" button in a desperate attempt to get out of the bind you're in, these people seem to view their gas pedal as a "go" button. Car not go? Hit button. Hit button again. Hit button harder. Harder! Hulk smash!

I wonder how many of these people notice that when they're cruising along and jam on the gas, the result is actually a braking effect? That the action is actually digging their car in?

The truth is, cars are big and heavy, and once you get them rolling, they tend to keep rolling unless stopped by a barrier. And a snowy road isn't much of a barrier to something that big and heavy. The tires, under the weight of the car, will tend to roll pretty easily at the natural speed of the car's body. It's when we change the forces operating on the tires and the body that the overall equation changes and crazy things start happening.

Step on the brakes, and you're adding resistance to the natural rolling of the tires against the packed-snow road. Do this too hard or too fast, and you set up a competition between the energy of the moving weight of the car and the ability of the tires to grip the road--and the weight of the car will usually win. Thus, the wheels lock and the car slides--the weight of the car has won the battle, and that momentum-energy is flowing freely in two dimensions, without the controlling factor of the tires' directed friction.

Similarly, step on the gas, and you're also setting two energies against the other--in this case, it's the opposite scenario, as you're trying to overcome the weight of the car with the force of the wheels' rotation and their traction with the ground. This is, of course, how cars move--the force channeled into the rotating of the wheels overcomes the downward weight of the car, making it move. But in this case, there's an unsure connection between the tires and the road, and so the energy doesn't translate into the normal traction. Without that traction, the force of the wheels turning overwhelms the limited resistance available and "breaks free", and the tires spin, unimpeded by the road surface.

The connection between these two conditions is an imbalance of forces--the overwhelming of one force by another, throwing things out of whack. The same things can happen on everyday dry roads under clear and warm conditions. People "peeling out" on dry pavement overwhelm their traction on the road with an application of immense wheel-spinning force, and the result is tires that spin out of proportion with the car's movement, resulting in the tires grinding against the road like a belt sander, tearing them up and leaving those black marks. The same thing happens when you make a brake-locking emergency stop on dry pavement and your car skids--the traction of your tires falls to the great energy of the car's moving weight, and you skid and leave scraped-off tire in your wake.

So in a sense, we're really always driving under the same physical conditions. It's just that normally, there's such a large safety margin that we're never aware of the boundaries where we can lose control. The speeds we normally drive at, the friction of the tires on the road, the materials in the roads themselves, and the amount of power we have available in our engines and brakes are all in pretty good balance--they're designed to work together to produce predictable, easily manageable results. Stopping and starting are routine affairs as a result.

This can, however, lull us into complacency, into thinking of the controls on the car as simple "stop" and "go" buttons. When, in fact, they're more like "application of force" dials, or flasks of different chemicals that can combine into either a stable or unstable compound when mixed in different measures. All the elements are part of a system that is designed to work flawlessly within certain typical boundaries, but which--through a change in the external conditions, or a change in the forces we have control over--can be upset.

And if that happens, suddenly it's you and a few thousand pounds of metal and you're floating freely in a mix of very powerful forces--just like that, it's Physics 101, and if you had as much trouble as I did with physics in high school, that can be daunting.

In those moments, the best success I've had is with a combination of Douglas Adams and the Buddha--don't panic, accept your situation, and let go of what you can't control. It's amazing how smoothly things can go, for example, if you just coast through the slippery spot. It's scary to not be able to stop or speed up, to just let go of those controls, hold the steering wheel, and ride it out, but it's also the best way to balance the forces at work and not either get stuck in a rut or slide out of control. Then, in that moderated, controlled state, apply those forces in a gentle and patient way, and most of the time the result is better than any application of overwhelming force can be.

Well, somehow I've managed to go from humor to amateur-hour physics to philosophy in a post about driving in snow, so I think I'd better get out of my own head for a bit and stop now. For more tips on driving in snow and ice, see the following:

• Tips from State Farm
• Sensible advice from the Brits (of course)
• Wisdom from the all-knowing gurus in Pueblo, Colorado
• NHTSA tips

(Note: as I've been writing this, I've heard at least four drivers outside my window struggling and/or getting stuck by gunning their engines in the snow.)

Labels: Life

Earlier this week, a Columbia city panel scuttled the idea of paving our city's recreational trails with asphalt as part of an effort to encourage more trail use and less car use for commuting. The idea, originally proposed by trails consultant Ted Curtis and pushed by the mayor, was met with an enormous wave of opposition from users of the trails. Faced with such opposition, the PedNet panel decided to scrap the idea for existing trails, favoring instead the idea of covering any new city trails with a hard surface, which seems to me like a great compromise. (PedNet has more info on the pros and cons of paved trails.)

After this decision, Curtis said, "I’m a little concerned people are going to focus on [paving the existing trails] and not look at the big picture" of encouraging non-motorized transportation. As it happens, that's precisely the concern many people had about Curtis--that, in focusing on an unwanted change to existing trails, he was missing the bigger picture that Columbia is not a pedestrian-friendly town.

My issue with the original plan was twofold. For the most part, our city's recreational trails aren't very practical for commuters. The MKT trail does connect some significant parts of the city, but the areas it runs through are largely among the parts of town already most friendly to pedestrians. And the city's other recreational trails are pretty inefficient routes to anywhere--much better suited to their intended purpose of recreation than as effective routes of mass commuting.

The real issue when it comes to having a pedestrian- and bike-friendly town has nothing to do with these trails. It has to do with the isolated, inconsistent way that development has taken shape in this town. The size of this town is very manageable--it should be very simple to make this a town that can be easily commuted around without a car. But careless developers and a city council with little interest in cohesive planning have left us with a disjointed, patchwork infrastructure that has been slapped together with little regard for its overall flow. The result is a group of residential islands connected by major roads that are completely unsuited to non-automobile traffic. Our main arteries and all of our major commercial developments are built around the car, plain and simple.

This is why the paved-trail plan falls so far short from a practical standpoint. The vast majority of people in this town would gain no commuter benefit from our current trails. Take me, for example--I live in an old, established neighborhood and work for one of the city's major employers. I work only 5 miles from where I live, but I couldn't take a trail to work even if I wanted to--the routes wouldn't be useful for me. For me to get to work without a car, I'd have to navigate through at least 7 major intersections and travel almost the entire route on multi-lane, dense traffic arteries with no bike lanes (and sometimes no sidewalks or shoulders), 40-50 mph traffic, and major hills. Is it possible to do this? Sure. But is such a prospect going to encourage even 1% of the population to try it? Not a chance.

The key will be new trails and pedways. A significant road-extension project will be starting soon next to my workplace, and it will include an 8-foot-wide pedway running alongside the new road, separated from the main road by a swath of green space. Imagine if all of our city's major roads had such a feature! In a town this size, it would make walking or biking around town a snap. That's the future that PedNet imagines, and it's a great one.

I'll end with the second part of the reason I was opposed to paving our existing trails. As anyone who's read much of my writing on this site knows, I have a deep love for the recreational trails in this city. They provide ready access to a great degree of beauty--flora, fauna, creeks, forests, plains, wetlands. They provide oases of peace and contemplation in a town that's becoming increasingly muddled otherwise. They're a place anyone can go for a walk or bike ride, walk their dog, share the beauty of nature with their kids, play in the streams, even bow-hunt or fish in certain areas.

The gravel & dirt surface of the trails integrates with the natural surroundings. Bugs dig and slither through it, birds forage on it, grass grows in patches of it, water runs cleanly through it, its forgivingly soft surface rolls and ripples with the natural irregularity of the land around it. In short, it has an established identity, a specific beauty that is beloved by me and many others. Most of the people on these trails go there to get away from what is elsewhere, to be in this specific place. That place doesn't need to be turned into a road, with black ooze sealing off and suffocating a swath which would otherwise breathe and live. We don't need asphalt runoff, yellow stripes of paint, and slippery, slowly crumbling black junk carving up these sacred places.

Let them create new trails with all the modern advantages. But in this time when it seems like so much of the natural beauty of this town is being cut down, bulldozed, and paved over, leave us the things that we already have, that we value so much. Let us treasure what we have and make something new to complement it.

Labels: Culture, Environment, Life

Did a 4-mile, or a little over four miles probably, non-stop run this weekend. That's a high-water mark since I ran into bad trouble with shin splints a couple years back. It took me some time to get back out on the trails at all; the splints were a lingering problem and I was pretty paranoid about re-aggravating things.

Finally, when I began truly regular running again earlier this year, I told myself that I wouldn't worry at all about distance or shooting for some artificial standard--my goal was simply to do it on a regular basis again, to work it back into my lifestyle and regain it as a regular test of will and discipline. So when I started up again, I was content with short distances and short amounts of time. Each run was no longer a boundary-pushing struggle--instead, my test became consistency and motivation. Don't worry about meeting my old standards of distance--just keep doing it. Bad run one day, legs felt leaden, couldn't manage to quite reach last time's distance? No worries--just keep doing it.

That approach has really been paying off for me this year. I've taken off the weight I put on over last winter, and in conjunction with regular (but also non-straining) weight work at home, I'm enjoying good health and some good physique-development--I'm within a few pounds of my target weight and my blood pressure and cholesterol are both terrific.

I don't know if I'll make it back to my glory days of 6-mile runs or not; I know I'd be able to run that distance if I wanted to, but I don't want to overdo it again. I'd rather slowly and steadily develop, as I have over the last 6 months or so, and have running in my life, than hurt myself needlessly.

I'm no world-class runner, and I imagine one day I'll have to hang it up to protect one body part or another, but for now I'm happy with my work and my persistence.

So 4 miles sounds pretty great to me. Here's to, hopefully, hundreds more to come.

Labels: Life, Running

(See a photo album of our trip to SVI)

After spending a week in the Tennessee hills camping and attending workshops at the Sequatchie Valley Institute, what can I say about it in one journal entry that will do it justice? If I tried to write about every single experience, every nuance of event or personality or eye-opening bit of information, it would take far more time than I have, or space than one would want to see filled with type.

Perhaps I'll revisit specific themes or ideas in future writings, but for now I'll just try to share some overall impressions and favorite memories.

In general, it was a remarkable experience on multiple levels. Firstly, it was remarkable on a purely experiential level--just the simple process of camping out for that long (the longest I've done since spending 9 days in Moab, Utah in '98), under hot & muggy conditions not ideally suited to me. Honestly, that was a challenge to me, and while I found myself adapting to challenges as they came up, it continued to find ways to test me, and rising to those was at times fun, gratifying, and exhausting. I know I'm not that well suited to constant change, but I'm also not testing my limits of flexibility either, so this felt good.

It was also a remarkable experience in terms of people & personalities. The mix of people I encountered there was all over the map. From bright-eyed students to enthusiasm-filled veterans of peace studies & natural building to quietly hardy young men and women working to keep the cooperative going, there was always someone new to be discovered and something new about them to be understood. My naturally judgmental observance was constantly working, trying to suss out and peg people and being surprised in the process.

And it was an interesting process. I found myself at times hitting my own wall of patience and understanding, trying to detach myself from the experience in analyzing it but all the while going through the same tests and catharses as everyone else there. In the end, I saw a great crazy-quilt of humanity, of people damaged and hopeful, directionless and disciplined, laughing and quieted with sadness, all doing what needed to be done, day in and day out, doing the work that would sustain them and each other. In the end, that was the answer, the only observation that held up to honest self-evaluation.

To bring things back down to a less abstract level, here are a few of my favorite memories from the week:

• The quiet, solid dignity with which the farmers at Sequatchie Cove Farm talked about progressive ideas of renewable energy, harmony with the earth, and self-sufficiency
• The brilliantly logical explanation of permaculture, and how working with the earth's natural tendencies, instead of forcing an artificial state upon it, can result in both greater abundance and greater ease
• The way that a series of hand-holding circles revealed a growing comfort in and reliance on each other as the week progressed
• The chillingly brilliant film, The Future of Food, which left me convinced that Monsanto is the most evil corporation in the history of mankind
• The talk by Joel from the CDC which opened my eyes to whole new ways of considering what's good nutrition
• Sandy Hepler's illuminating connecting of dots about what factors have led to Western corporate dominance around the world, and the travesties of justice which have come as a result

But it wasn't all heavy! There were plenty of fun things too:

• Going to sleep feeling hot on most nights, then waking up briefly in the middle of the night feeling deliciously cool
• Spending a week eating many things I'd never tried before, yet never feeling any hunger or stomach upset, and losing weight to boot
• Chocolate! Trying some fabulous South American chocolate (and coming home with two pounds of it)
• Drawing a little design for one of Frances' demonstrations that was quickly adopted as the "logo" for the whole workshop
• Singing under a night sky to a group of strangers who'd become familiar
• Watching a group of toddlers alternately bring joy to and wreak havoc on the scheduled events
• Becoming used to not showering and becoming comfortable in an unlikely setting for me
• Hardly getting any bug bites at all, and no sunburn!
• The enormous amount of natural beauty I was surrounded with every day

But above all the various details of ideas and interactions through the week, there was something which made this experience more special and more fun than anything else, and that was the joy of more deeply connecting with someone I love immensely. This whole thing was conceived in a moment of enthusiastic hope by me and Ann Marie, and it turned out to be a wonderful, I'll say magical, experience in growth, understanding, and devotion for both of us. Through constantly learning more about each other by exposure to these experiences, through transcending challenges to each other to reach states of greater appreciation and gratitude, and through the simple joy of experiencing everything with and through each other, we achieved a profound level of feeling that I'm grateful for and really, really happy about. It's hard to do it justice prosaically. What can I say--I love you, Ann Marie.

So, all in all, a richly satisfying and challenging week of exploration and discovery in the company of a group of searching, striving, mixed-up, wise, and quietly beautiful people, all under the noble watch of the grateful and supportive earth.

Labels: Environment, Life

It struck me this weekend, in a humbling, sleep-disturbing way, how spectacularly rare and significant it is to have someone in life who really understands you, and with whom you can look at the world in sympathy. And how horrifying the concept of not having that is.

I've been in both of those states, and I'm frustrated that I've failed to appreciate that significance every day. I'm hoping there's still time for me to learn.

Labels: Life

Late, overcast morning after a late night. Get the day started then go for a run later, or go for a run now?

Go for a run now. Eat later. First, swap out the tunes on the old MP3 player.

Driving along up Old 63 on the way to Hinkson, slightly zoning out and singing along to Tales From Topographic Oceans by Yes. Suddenly time seems to grind to a halt as I see a small, dark gray shape struggling across the road ahead of me, in the other lane.

In a flash I realize what's happening: a cat (presumably a mother cat) is hauling a tiny black kitten across this busy road by the scruff of its little neck. She's got it over to the side of the narrow road and is trying to lift it up and over the curb, but she can't manage it. Meanwhile, cars are coming from both directions. I'm the lead car coming up from Broadway, while there's another stream of them coming downhill from the south. As the cars rapidly approach, the mother cat panics and bolts away, leaving the little black kitten sprawled helplessly in the road, directly where the oncoming cars are headed.

This whole thing is happening in seconds. Literally--in about 2 seconds I realize what's going on, and then everything that follows happens in only a few seconds more.

In the middle of Old 63, traffic behind me and oncoming in the other lane, I stop the car, throw on the parking brake, hit the hazard lights, jump out the door, and run across into the other lane, scooping up the kitten and carrying it a safe distance past the road, setting it down in some brush near where the mother has bolted. She's staring at me from a few yards away, alarmed and hissing; I crouch down and try to coax her over but she's too tense.

All kinds of thoughts run through my head at that moment--what to do about them? I glance around; there's no immediate sign of where they might have come from or are going to. Do I try to corral the mother and take them somewhere? She's fast and the surrounding brush is thick, and she's still pretty panicky--I worry that if I try, it'll just chase her off and leave the kitten alone again. So quickly I decide to leave them for the moment, where they're at least together and safely off the road.

Then I stand up and it dawns on me that my car is still sitting in the road. I turn around and see that a long line of cars has formed behind it, and as it's a narrow road with no-passing stripes, there's nowhere for people to go. So with an unspoken, "ah, crap" I dash back out into the road, hop in the car, and then pull over into a parking lot near where I left the cats.

They've moved on, down the hill into the dense brush and tree cover. I can spy them several yards in, and I puzzle over what to do. But it seems that my chance at spiriting them away has passed. The mother cat is still on alert, watching me as I try and step lightly through the dense foliage, but there's no good inlet. Before I would take a few steps, she could be long gone, and I don't want to have the kitten deserted or left behind in a panic again.

So, feeling beaten and insufficient, I leave them and head back to the car. To what fate, I wonder--run over somewhere else, later, or scavenging for survival? Or maybe headed toward their home? Picked up by someone if they approach a home for food or shelter? I don't know. But I'm stymied.

Within a half-minute of driving on, I get a call on my cell, pick it up, and hear a girl say, "happy birthday!" Flustered as I am, I actually have to take a second to check my brain for any facts I might be missing here. (My birthday's in October. Check.) I gently assure her that she has the wrong number, and drive on.

This is starting out to be a weird day.

On the trail, aside from some expected stiffness, running starts well. First song is the utterly fantastic "Chemistry" by Semisonic (surely one of the best pop songs of the decade). As its Hall & Oates-like staccato piano driving-eighths give me an emotional boost that surprises even me, the clouds open up and suddenly it's sunny. And for a moment I'm brushed by a sensation hinting at many fine days of running over the last few years, pleasant imagery and feelings of other sunny days, other trails. The same thing happens again later in the run, when the returned clouds part again during the fast/driving second half of "Ballavanich" by Celtic/rock band Wolfstone.

After the run I continue what's become a post-run ritual: picking up whatever trash I can see offhand around the trail head. It amazes me every time that people will carelessly dump so much random junk when there's a trash can just a few yards away. Pathetic. Today's haul includes a pile of corroding AA batteries (did the idiot who dumped them think they'd just evaporate harmlessly?), lots of random pieces of plastic & cigarette packaging, cups & straws, and a few aluminum cans which I take with me to recycle. Sickening. I think to myself that I need to return here late some night (when I imagine this stuff is getting dumped) and scandalize whoever's doing it. As I'm driving back home (no sign of the cats), I'm reminded how I fill my 100% biodegradable kitchen trash bag with non-biodegrading empty cereal bags, soy-food wrappers, etc., and I have to wonder what good I'm doing, really.

Though as I'm rinsing out the cans back at home and reading their labels, I do get the chance to learn something that I'd suspected but probably wouldn't know otherwise--that Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper contains neither cherry nor vanilla. Just sugar and chemicals.

And I'm reminded of Steve Kilbey's old song, "Weird Old World" :

We talk about this city and all of its lies
That's a joke, we're a cog in its wheel
And we're rolling on down to the end of the hill
And never stopping to feel.

Labels: Life, Running

My first impression of the Hinkson trail, after my first run on it a few weeks back, was that it wasn't as scenic/attractive as my old haunts on the MKT trail, but how much closer it was to me--making runs quicker and easier to schedule, and saving me on gas--made it worthwhile. In the time since, I've changed my tune and have found many small and not-so-small things in which to delight.

After another nice run on Saturday, I felt a compulsion to linger a little longer and wander around a bit. So, after stretching, I walked across the gently rolling hillocks surrounding the trailhead, taking the rocky path down to the creek. With no one else in sight, I felt a pleasing sense of reverence in the aloneness with this untroubled nature. Walking down to the creek's edge, I crouched down and just watched, and listened. What little noise there was from the nearest road was quickly forgotten in the quiet of the moment.

Looking over the gently rushing water (the area I'd walked down to is fairly rocky, providing much surface for whooshing and babbling of the brook), I spotted what looked like a piece of paper wrapped around a rock, plastered against it by the force of the water. Thinking that it probably wasn't doing much harm but was still an interference to anything green growing on the rock's surface, I grabbed the nearest fallen branch-piece, reached out over the water, and set about trying to loose it from its lamination. After several tries, I was finally able to peel it off and lift it out of the water.

That it was so tidily intact should have tipped me off, but I found that it was not paper but instead plastic. Specifically, a plastic bag from a child's birthday party. There are a hundred ways it could have gotten in the stream, but I was just glad that I'd gotten it out. It's simple presence as a foreign pollutant is clear to anyone, but lately I've been reminded of how dangerous plastics can be to the ecosystem through reading articles like the recent ocean study in Mother Jones magazine.

After pulling it ashore and setting it down next to me, I returned to my meditation over the gently rippling water-sounds. Then I noticed, just a couple yards upstream, a small bird alight on a low branch overhanging the stream. (I think it was an Eastern Phoebe, but it may have been an Eastern Kingbird; my bird IDing skills are woefully poor.)

Keeping quiet and still, I was treated to a delightful show by the little one; a series of looping dips down into the water, then swooping back up to the branch to wash itself and shake itself dry. Mixed into this cleaning ritual were a few cursory above-water swoops, presumably to snag the occasional insect. I waited long enough for the bird to finish and move a little further downstream before getting up and walking back up to the car.

Another reminder that most of my fondest memories, those that stay with me and emerge in the most thoughtful and meaningful times, don't involve concrete.

(This journal entry typed to the accompaniment of Bert Jansch's lovely and pastoral 1980 album, Avocet.)

Labels: Environment, Life, Running

Well, in what seems like an odd choice to me, our flagship local newspaper has chosen my mug (among a couple others) to feature on the front page in their big above-the-fold photo covering yesterday's peace rally. Though I hardly consider myself among the most worthy to be the face of this effort, I have to say it's pretty fun nonetheless and I'm proud of participating in this and other peace-related events. Of course the real local heroes in this effort are the dedicated regulars of Mid-Missouri Peaceworks, most notably organizer Mark Haim.

See below for my tabloid spectacular, and also see a sharper PDF version which can be zoomed to reveal the following caption (which is the only real written coverage given to the event, sadly):

From left, Desiree Long, Hugh Curran and Kevin Gamble join scores of others yesterday in circling the Boone County Courthouse Square during a peace rally. Hundreds of people from around the region traveled to the rally to mark the three-year anniversary of the war in Iraq. Similar rallies took place in other parts of the United States and around the world. The local event, sponsored by the Columbia Peace Coalition, featured speeches, live music and the reading aloud of Iraqi and U.S. casualties of the war.

Labels: Life, Politics

In a rare treat for Columbia, Noam Chomsky was here tonight, giving a talk to a full house at the Missouri Theatre. Following on the heels of the ever-more-successful True/False Film Festival, it almost feels like just in the space of a few days, ol' Columbia has taken a kind of intangible step up toward a more intelligent, cultured identity. Well, it's a nice balance to all the bleak landscape of cheap, flimsy, rapacious commercial development that's currently scouring the city.

As anyone who's familiar with Chomsky knows, his thoughts are difficult to summarize briefly or neatly. But generally speaking, his focus tonight was on skewering the popular notion that the U.S. is engaged in promoting democracy around the world. Relating telling examples from around the world, from Lebanon and Turkey to Iraq and Palestine, Chomsky neatly debunked the rhetoric we've heard from our present administration and used their own words and actions to paint a picture of a pseudo-interest in spreading democracy that is really nothing more than the crass furthering of strategic military interests masquerading as something based on noble ideals.

Rather than attempt to break down the hour-plus talk (and additional 20 minutes of Q&A), I think the best excerpt I can relate is Chomsky's closing recommendations for how to steer our country and the world out of its present dangerous situation:

1. Accept the jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court and the World Court.
2. Sign the Kyoto protocols and carry them forward.
3. Let the United Nations take the lead in international crises.
4. Rely on diplomatic and economic measures rather than military ones in confronting the grave threats of terror.
5. Keep to the conventional, conservative interpretation of the United Nations charter: the use of force is legitimate only when ordered by the Security Council or when the country is under imminent threat of attack--until the Security Council can act (article 51 of the UN charter).
6. Give up the veto at the Security Council and have a decent respect for the opinions of mankind.
7. Cut back sharply on military spending and sharply increase social spending--health, education, renewable energy, and so on.

In Chomsky's words:

For people who believe in democracy, these are very conservative suggestions. And if there were any conservatives in the country, they'd all be in favor of them. There's a very simple reason for it: these are the opinions of the majority of the U.S. population. And they're in radical opposition to public policy--in most cases, a bipartisan consensus.

Labels: Life, Politics

...well, sort of!

I learned a pretty interesting bit of family trivia tonight that I'd never known. I was talking with my folks about the new movie coming out next week, Glory Road, which tells the story of the first NCAA team of all-black starters (Texas Western) and their road to a national championship.

As it turns out, my dad's brother Gary, who'd played basketball for the University of Kentucky (he played forward, and wasn't a starter but was one of the first off the bench), was on the very team that Texas Western upset in the championship game in 1966, as depicted in the movie. He played alongside Pat Riley, who went on to great coaching fame in the NBA. In fact, he even has someone playing him in this movie!

Way to go, Uncle Gary!

Labels: Life

There's a quickie survey going around the blogosphere that the hipsters are calling the meme of four: nine questions with four answers each. In the communal spirit, I'll throw in and give my answers:

Four jobs you've had in your life: technical illustrator, office wretch, plaster-mold maker, magazine designer

Four movies you could watch over and over: the original Star Wars; The Seventh Seal (Bergman, not Demi Moore); Mitchell (MST3K version); most James Bond movies.

Four places you've lived: in a converted dormitory, in a fourplex, in a duplex, in a split-level house. Not necessarily in that order.

Four TV shows you love to watch: Numb3rs, the original CSI, Law & Order: SVU, NFL football.

Four places you've been on vacation: Montego Bay, Jamaica; Moab, Utah; New York City; Panama City, Florida.

Four websites you visit daily: Huffington Post, Daily Kos, Salon, The Daily Diatribe.

Four of your favorite foods: Spinach & broccoli pizza, palak paneer, fried rice with tofu & vegetables, GoLean Crunch cereal.

Four places you'd rather be: on stage playing bass guitar, in a meadow far from any road, downtown Manhattan, in bed.

Four albums you can't live without: Jethro Tull, Heavy Horses; King Crimson, USA; The Church, The Blurred Crusade; Men Without Hats, Rhythm of Youth.

Have a blog of your own? Keep it going and take the survey. If you're feeling especially impetuous, feel free to post your answers as a comment below.

Labels: Life

Back from several days in Portland, Oregon, to visit dear friend Tris and his milieu. The trip was full of obstacles, from a flight change on the way up to chilly, rainy weather and a persistent cold which dogged me from my second day there. But of course it was worth it, to see the many faces I hadn't seen in ages (Dr. Lass, Connor, Luke & family) and to have the chance to work again with Tris & Connor. Finally, after a grinding acoustic stint on 12-string guitar and hurried rehearsals for an impromptu full-band show, I started to feel some of that old magic come back--the energy that informed my old bass lines in the days of Neuman Rael and the more inspired moments of the first Dissident 27 CD. Rhythm started clicking, interactions with Connor's shifting beats became active, and space and percussiveness turned wet clay into percolating, punchy creativity. In the midst of feeling crummy & cold, this energizing force was another reminder of the value that music brings to my life.

My gratitude for Tris & Stephanie's hospitality. Other highlights: great food (from Thai to diner), a fruitful trip to magnificent Powell's bookstore (since 1971, just like me), the ultra-mercurial Dodge Dart (a sedan version of the old green van from high school, I tell you!), and season four of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Labels: Life, Music

I recently went to this year's Bonnaroo festival in Manchester, TN; it was my first one of these big multi-day music festivals, and it was quite an experience. Overall it was a study in contrasts; a logistical mess that made me feel my age, but also a rich palette of musical artistry and unexpected whimsy.

The trip started off presenting its adversarial face first--drenching storms on my way through St. Louis, then hot and muggy weather at the start of the festival. Figuring things would be pretty well organized and smooth-running on the fourth year of the festival, I was a bit appalled at the general sense of disorder that greeted us on our arrival. Unannounced detours, haphazard routing of vehicles, staff who were largely clueless and unaware of the most basic facts about the grounds and facilities, and lots of items in the printed festival guide that simply didn't match reality. Sure, putting on an event like this is an enormous undertaking, but the routine failures at the most basic level were a source of frustration throughout much of the event.

But enough of the bad side--the good side (apart from my considerable good fortune in having such a beautiful companion) was the fantastic music on display. Indeed, there was really too much to see--with an average of four shows going at any one time, sacrifices had to be made (sorry, Allman Brothers & Black Crowes).

The highlight of the whole festival for us was a rousing, utterly fantastic show by Ray LaMontagne. If you haven't already heard this guy (you may have caught his single "Trouble" on the radio and thought you'd accidentally stumbled across an early-70s-soul station), I recommend you run (or click) right out and look him up. No, really, go ahead; I'll be here when you get back. More than simply a soulful, energetic, and expert performance, what made this one so special was the genuineness and magical in-the-moment quality of the performance. The man himself was humble, subdued, and taken aback by the ecstatic response of the packed crowd. Most of the songs were energized by a slight "winging it" quality; shifts in structure, transitions, and endings were often called or materialized in spontaneous interaction (sometimes visual, sometimes telepathic) between Ray and passionately creative upright bassist Chris Thomas, and there were a couple moments where things teetered on the absolute brink of going off the rails, only to be brought back by the quick-thinking musicians. This "un-canned", searching quality made for an exilhirating and unpredictable experience.

Apart from LaMontagne, other highlights of the festival included a rousing and typically brilliant set from Iron & Wine (one of the best, if not the best, groups in America at the moment); an energetic and grin-inducing set from Josh Ritter; intriguing oddness from Mike Gordon (ex-Phish)'s set with the Benevento/Russo Duo duo; Trey Anastasio's take on the James Gang's "Funk #49"; and an arresting blast of sound and light from The Secret Machines. Non-musical highlights included intriguing info on natural building & living from the Sequatchie Valley Institute, a variety of fruit smoothies, a tent that didn't leak in three days of rain, and the luck to be able to share the whole thing with someone who enriched it all.

Labels: Life, Music

Full coverage of this little expedition got tangled up in the re-tooling of this site, but here's a quick recap. (You can also see a few pics of the trip.)

Jamaica is a wonderful place. I'm probably about the billionth person to discover that bit of trivia, but there's nothing like discovering it for yourself. The occasion was the wedding of an old friend, Charles, one of the few people on Earth I'd travel that far (and much further) for. It worked out to be a delightful cross-section of joys old and new--the company of old and dearest friends, the shared experience with someone new, and of course all the people, places, and sensations found only at this time, place, and location.

We did our best to cram an awful lot into the days we were there, making sure to give proper time to just chilling on the beach, and it felt fascinating, healing, and challenging all at once. The challenge came from how we undertook the trip--rather than hiding ourselves in some walled-off resort, we stayed in a hotel on a busy strip near downtown Montego Bay. I wanted to get a feel for what things were really like there--not insulate myself from the "real" Jamaica, which is seemingly in a state of blurred blending with the touristy facade that such places desperately prop up to survive. But from the admittedly priviliged point of view of a curious chap from the States, it all worked out well--we got an up-close view of some damned real aspects of daily Jamaican life, saw how the other half lived at a resort where the wedding was held, and in between we enjoyed ourselves greatly with good food, good company, and of course the sun, sand, and water. It was a curious swirl of luxury, basic fun, and somewhat heartbreaking realities (including a closeup look at a poor, ramshackle village, and me walking up and down the "Hip Strip" scrounging up a tin of tuna and a can opener in order to feed a stray cat we spotted while walking back one night).

I wasn't sure how this fair-skinned redhead, who was feeling quite the Viking at home with beard and icy weather, would adapt to the tropical climate, but it fit like a glove. Not one sunburn after hours on the beach and in the water. The whole mix of it became quite intoxicating once I settled in to it, and I felt an openness to everything that arose. Including riding a horse, which I'd barely ever done, and not at all since I was a kid! That had to be one of the highlights--a tour through the countryside that ended in a ride on the beach and out into the water.

But best of all was the company. I've been far and wide on my own, but what really made this place meaningful was the shared nature of it. I'm grateful to everyone who made it that way--my dearest friends who I don't see enough, the cast of new faces I'd never seen before (or since), and the one I came home with--that's what made it special.

Labels: Life

It's been quiet here lately, but not without reason; I'm working on an entirely new web site that will house this blog as well as all kinds of other fascinating content. I plan to have it up within the next few months, and in the meantime I'll try not to neglect this journal any more than I have to.

******************

After work today I ran up to Streetside Records to catch an in-store performance by Jonatha Brooke. (If you haven't already heard her music, and you're a fan of thoughtful, intelligent, passionate music sung beautifully, go check her out right away.) And I'm so glad I did; it was extraordinary. In an impromptu move she decided to play purely acoustic--no mic, no PA. So I had the wonderful opportunity of standing just a few feet from her and seeing and hearing her completely unadorned and undistorted. And it was just lovely. I've listened to her for about 9 years now, but hearing her that way was like hearing her for the first time--no decoration at all, just her direct voice, just her fingers on the guitar strings. It was probably routine for her, but I was doing somersaults inside over the purity and intimacy of what I was hearing. Every nuance of her voice and playing were there, more 3-D than on any record, her honeyed melodies fully intact and scintillating. Along with her wonderful voice and melodic sense, I have to say that she has some of the most beautiful, expressive eyes I've ever seen. When she would brush her gaze over the assembled listeners, it was like someone sweeping a laser beam around the room--I was taken aback, in a good way.

A bonus was how genuine and down-to-earth she was, graciously talking to everyone and signing all manner of CDs and posters. I'm not normally one for the autograph game, but moved by the spirit of the moment I finally got my old, well-worn copy of 10 Cent Wings signed--I've turned a lot of people on to her with that record. It's also a record I haven't listened to in a long time. It's had the unfortunate distinction of being associated with some of the most painful times in my life over the last 8 years; it started its life as a bittersweet soundtrack to moving on from a painful relationship and ended its run a couple years ago as a too-close reminder of subsequent great passion and loss. But I put it on again today as I drove from the store, and those old feelings washed through me along with a new appreciation. It's a wonderful, wonderful record. For some reason I was the only person there having that particular one signed, and Jonatha looked at it wistfully, "oh, I love this one." She's not alone.

And alright, if I sound like some star-struck puppy here, all I'll say is that if you're gonna be that way, there's no better case for it than her. Do yourself a favor and hear her.

******************

One quick note about the presidential debate tonight. In the midst of a lot of the same lines we've heard time and again, Kerry gave what I thought was one of the most striking, daring, and genuine answers to a question I've possibly ever heard from a candidate. When pressed by a question about tax dollars supporting abortion, Kerry gave a remarkable reply, abridged here:

First of all, I cannot tell you how deeply I respect the belief about life and when it begins. I'm a Catholic, raised a Catholic...religion has been a huge part of my life. It helped lead me through a war, leads me today.

But I can't take what is an article of faith for me and legislate it for someone who doesn't share that article of faith, whether they be agnostic, atheist, Jew, Protestant, whatever. I can't do that.

...As a president, I have to represent all the people in the nation. And I have to make that judgment.

What a brave, genuine thing to say. He's bound to catch grief for it by the likes of the 700 Club loonies, but he earns my respect for that. Bush chided him at one point on another question for trying to be "popular", but it was Bush who spent the whole night pandering to his crowd, speaking to an invisible list of approved message points. Kerry, with lines like those above, showed himself to be someone who can transcend that. The world is bigger than any one ideology, and he was the only one on that stage grown-up enough to realize that. He's got my vote.

******************

Music of the moment: Jonatha Brooke - 10 Cent Wings; Interpol - Antics; Gemma Hayes - Night on My Side; Kornog - Première: Music from Brittany.

Labels: Life

Musidora. A brief touch with the eternal today, the kind of momentary electric rapture that can sustain in lean times. A pair of blue eyes today, sunlit pools of sky, sent my heart singing, and on the drive home my voice joined it. Thrumming energy ran through me all day, making me high, connecting in a rush all the sparking, frayed cables of intensity and drive that provide the separate bursts of motivation that carry us through random tasks, here all bundled for a moment and kicking me like a horse with its summed charge. On that singing drive home I was joined by Steve Kilbey (on CD, though that was incidental) and the wonderful dreaming tension of his words and the heated urgency of the music underneath and between was the perfect echo to my heart.

Catching your awareness of such feelings in time to fully center yourself in the experience of them can be difficult. Fully explaining it, impossible. But this is the best I'm going to do for today. It was a sense of wonder.

I don't expect these kinds of posts to mean anything to anyone but me, but if they remind me, they serve their purpose.

Change is afoot. The spark finally caught this weekend to changes that will thoroughly revamp this whole site. Yes, change is afoot and this will only be the start of it.

Labels: Life, Music

Music of the Day: Tyrannosaurus Rex - Unicorn, Miroslav Vitous & Jan Garbarek - Atmos, Cheap Trick - "Southern Girls".

Gooool! I discovered this weekend that the Telemundo network is showing international fútbol matches, and I was able to catch a bit of a couple. Today I saw Bolivia get their asses handed to them by Ecuador for 70 minutes before waking up with a too-late rally. This reminds me how much I love watching World Cup soccer. Hopefully I'll be able to snag some of this throughout the summer.

One thing that was interesting to watch on this Spanish-language network was the commercials. Specifically, how they're exactly like ours! Then it dawned on me that it's less a case of the commercials reflecting American culture than it is a case of them reflecting corporate culture. People see these styles as uniquely American, but we're really just as much victims of these corporate image-manipulators as the rest of the world. It's sad, and indicative of aspects of corporate power that I've been thinking about and will write about later.

While thinking aloud, I'll go ahead and state three big themes I hope to address here in the next few months: the dangers of corporate power, the nature of power and how it affects people, and what I see as the last and next-to-last great civil rights struggles of our age. (Hint: an important court decision was just made in this state about what I see as the next-to-last great civil rights issue.)

Wild about Harry. I'm not afraid to admit it--I'm a big Harry Potter fan. Those stories capture the best aspects of the fantasy tales of my youth and take me away from everything. So I was happy to see today that the latest movie is fantastic--the most enjoyable film I've seen since the first Lord of the Rings movie a few years back. A great number of book details were left out of the swirling, fast-paced filmed version, but Alfonso Cuaron captured and updated the spirit of the stories in a really magical way. I only have one quibble with the adaptation and I'm willing to believe there's a long-term reason for it, so we'll see. And in the meantime, I'll go see it again! Only one thing could have made seeing the movie better--something important from the first two that I didn't have this time.

Faces from the past. Saw some old faces this weekend; at Art in the Park I ran into two old elementary school pals, an unlikely and unexpected bit of time-traveling. Both were hale and hearty and somehow simultaneously very different from and very similar to the guys I knew back in the early years. I wonder if they saw me the same way? In any case it did my heart good to see them in good health and good spirits. And on the trail today (in the midst of another 6-mile run--5 weekends straight!), I saw a face that took me back to the slightly more recent past. Rachel, the second girl I ever fell in love with. God, her smile could light up the world. I hope she's well.

Virtual Phishing. Trying something interesting out next week--going to a "virtual" Phish concert. This being their farewell tour, I thought it'd be neat to connect to it somehow, but the shows are few and in high demand. So I'm going to check out the June 17 show which will be broadcast live to 47 movie theaters around the country. It's not the same thing as being there, but the concept is intriguing--I'm already looking forward to the cognitive dissonance! Driving a couple hours to sit in a movie theater for a few more may not be too glamorous, but it's one of those rare events I just have to check out. They're a hell of a band--it'll be worth it.

Speaking of checking out, that's all the catching up I can do for one night--the bed is calling.

Labels: Life, Sport

Time is a funny thing--most of the time it's an unyielding wall between you and the past, only allowing your mind through; and then sometimes it can surprise you by opening right up and letting you almost experience multiple phases of your life at once. I felt a moment like this while running on the MKT trail yesterday morning; the sight of someone opened a door that took me right back to a time many years ago. Discovery; filmy dresses and cool breezes on summer days through a shaded corner room; Queen Elvis on the sidewalk and ringing mandolins, flutes and honeyed harmonies through the languid nights. The end of those days was an incredible detour for me and in quiet moments I still feel torn between turning back toward there or turning further away. It makes me wonder about the things that seem so solid now, and all the things that have seemed solid yet crumbled in the years since. The Buddhist in me knows that's the way of all things, but the human in me doesn't want to accept it. In moments like yesterday's, the loves and lessons of those days seem so far away, yet closer than ever. Time is a funny thing.

Or perhaps time is just, in the immortal words of Thundercleese, "an abstract concept created by carbon-based lifeforms to monitor their ongoing decay."

Labels: Life

Everything, hopefully.

Labels: Life