Today it was the remainder of Pennsylvania, then a bit of Maryland, West Virginia, and Virginia - to a Comfort Inn near the outskirts of Roanoke. More tree covered mountains along rural roads that curve through valleys, dive down narrow hollows. I am struck by how much of the country is still forested. I imagine creatures, some with four legs, some with two, hiding just out of sight in the woods watching us speed past in the silver car - whispering, "Here they come; there they go." I can almost see their eyes. MORE
...They rode for 20 hours through North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia and Florida. Later Ed Fred could remember nothing of the trip except stopping in a little place to get something to eat (being warned that the bus would leave without them) and his sister sleeping beside him in the dark.
...Ed Fred was invited to parties because of his resemblance to James Dean. This party was in a banquet hall by the ocean. Ed Fred drifted around the edges of the crowd, talked to a few people, then left early. On his way out, he encountered Mary, a girl from school. She was standing at the top of a stairway overlooking the water. She was round with a pretty face and a nice smile. The building was cream colored; the surf splashed, and the moon danced on the waves. They talked a little, joking about her unpronounceable Slovak name. Like a person showing off a wound, Ed Fred shyly revealed his unbelief, suggesting there was nothing there anymore. She didn’t see things that way but was sympathetic and asked him to come back in with her. He wanted to but could not even see the possibility of saying yes. MORE
He wrote…
It was in the late fall of 1918, I was 17 years old and getting more restless each day. I did not know just what I wanted to do. I could join the Navy at 18, but I had to find something to do until I was 18 besides farm.
I had done pretty good - had my own cotton field, a fair amount of money in the bank, everything on the farm was gathered and all the fall plowing and planting was finished and all the winter wood was cut and stacked up out behind the house. Just nothing much to do and it was too cold to go to the mountains.
But, it was a beautiful day - sun shining, no wind. So, I took a long walk out in the woods, birds flying around in the trees and squirrels playing and gathering in nuts for food in the coming winter - and me with nothing to do but loaf, and I was never very good at that. I was too restless to read and I had been thinking about going to Florida." MORE
"4:30 am is what Matt, the young Brit in the room next to mine, calls monk-o’clock. First are the deep rumbling sounds of chanting voices then slow drum beats begin followed by a crescendo of blaring horns and symbols smashing together.I lucked into staying at one of the nicest joints in Boudha outside the high-end budget traveler’s lodges. Tharlam Guest House is swanky for a monastery, with 24/7 hot water and consistent internet access. The guest house is less than a quarter mile walk to the Boudnath Stupa (left) and just around the corner from the Garden Kitchen. The one place in town with truly reliable meat dishes and a good cup of “filtered coffee” (i.e. not Nescafe)." MORE
Monster
Last week Allie and I hiked several miles on Crowder's Mountain. Although we saw a number of flying and crawling insects it wasn't until the last mile that Allie saw the monster. It came out of the woods near me, then, she said, headed toward my leg. But when she starting screeching the creature scooted across the trail and disappeared on the other side. Thereafter she kept it at bay by hopping and screaming. I didn't see anything. Allie swore it was the size of her fist. I believe her. To the left is a crayon rendering done on a paper towel.
Bent Tree
I have a bent eucalyptus tree in my front yard. This winter I figured that an ice storm would get it and I would cut it off and see if it grew back (which it has done before). But there were no bad ice storms this year.
Lately new leaves have sprouted causing the tree to sag even more. I wonder if life will do what winter failed to accomplish.
Wrinkle in Freedom -vs- Fairness Theory
I say that the freedom of the business person is the freedom of the skateboarder dressed up in a suit. I further claim that many (well some?) business people can exercise no more self- control than the skateboarder. Both are prisoners of their own impulses and must be regulated (minimally, carefully) for their good and the good of others. As the following article suggests, free-will is often not. MORE
Flip Flop Girl
There were two of them, as indifferent as flowers, as suspicious as doe, as exquisite as perfectly formed 18 year-old girls in abbreviated shorts. MORE
Ed Fred and Barton Thumb to Florida
Two men in a maroon 55 Buick Century with a roaring transmission wanted to stop at a house on the edge of Columbia. The driver did most of the talking. He had greasy black hair combed back into convergent wings - a duck tail. He told Ed Fred and Barton to wait in the car; it wouldn't be a minute. His younger silent companion followed him. They went in a white frame house with yellow shutters and a rusted grill waiting beside the stoop for the next cookout. The screen door slapped shut. Ed Fred thought he could see another figure moving in the shadows. He said to Barton, "I wonder what they are up to?" MORE
Just prior to this, a boy dumping trash from his pickup said there was a puddle down the road - and to watch out for the rock. It took two tries to get through and for a while when the front bumper was completely submerged and the vehicle was sinking deeper by the moment it appeared we would not make it. (I did not see the boy's companion who was standing further off the road. Bob said he looked like an albino and worried that they might have somebody chained to a tree just out of sight.) MORE
Unlike the oil spill in the Gulf, there were was undeniable humor in my blood spill last night. MORE
Pictures of pictures... digital images of slides projected on wall VIEW
On Crowders
Snapshots and notes from hike Tuesday, 5/25/2010.
Along the first ridge line, past the turn off to the camping area (sometimes encounter drowsy campers heading home) the trail becomes rockier. The rocks are like jagged teeth protruding through the ridge. VIEW
Gnarly at the Farmer's Market
Feeling gnarly walked downtown to Farmer's Market. Got coffee from Regina's baristas and sat with Hal under awning listening to a man and woman perform the Arlo Guthrie song City of New Orleans...
Good morning America how are you? Don't you know me I'm your native son, I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans, I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.They were so good or the song was so good or something - almost cried.
Watched people come and go.
Discussed music and travels with Hal then walked back home not nearly so gnarly.
(But there are enthusiastic Christians roaming Woodland Park.)
They spent the night in an anonymous motel in Daytona at the edge of pine woods and scrubby palms just off Highway 1. Initially on leaving the sanctuary of the MG, walking across the gravel parking lot to the designated concrete stoop , Harriet was edgy and suspicious. But after unpacking, they drove out to the beach and she liked that. (The room was paneled in knotty pine and retained the odor of all the people who had been there before. Ed Fred thought the place had a carnal air; Harriet just thought it smelled bad and added her own smoke to the varied history of the smoke that preceded them.) MORE
The period of equanimity continued after the cemetery when we met Randy and Allie and Randy's parents at the Mexican restaurant that is located in the old Gheen Lumber Company building where my father might have worked 80 years ago. We got a parking space just outside the front door. Evan was calm. Allie regaled Bill, Jo and I with eccentric observations (Toy Monster had threatened to chew off her arm). The service was good. Everybody liked what they ordered. MORE
Now, thinking about the conversation, it occurs to me that we came close to discussing what I consider a key corollary to the freedom -vs- fairness theory - that is free will. Conservatives tend to act as if people have free will; liberals sometimes don't. For conservatives free will is necessary in order for freedom to work. People need free will to make choices. For liberals it appears that many people are unable (not free) to make the right choices and that government enforced fairness is sometimes necessary. MORE
A recent article by thoughtful conservative columnist David Brooks supports the premise of this blog - that liberals and conservatives can be distinguished by their positions on freedom and fairness. Conservatives emphasize the former and liberals the latter. MORE
Looking for a theme to explain the things in the box, at least four of my items were expressions of grandiosity. The absurd paper was grand because it presumed that my opinion was worth writing down. The engine and the motor were grand because they were once intended to demonstrate the impossible. The picture of the Celanese girl was grand because it was pretty grandiose of me, a technician from the basement labs to approach this girl, whom I didn't know, and say, "May I take your picture" And the pictures of Genie and me were grand because that's always been my reaction when I see them. MORE
Oswald - well, he was another story. He was certainly brave and persistent. And he had some talent. All he needed was fate. That was provided by his decision to take the job at the Texas Book depository and by Kennedy’s decision to visit Dallas. The result was inevitable. Grandeur - at least as Oswald would have seen it, was ensured. MORE
...Today I saw five teen-age boys resting before making their final trek to the top of the mountain. One complemented me on my cane. ("Hey dude, I like your cane.") He might have been sarcastic - maybe not. Before he saw me, he was demonstrating a point with a clumsy karate kick. It had to do with Obama I think. When they left, one little fat guy with sad unruly hair stayed behind for a minute - perhaps gathering energy to go on. Catching me studying him, he said, "Have a nice day sir" then went on to join his buddies. MORE
...When the trail split the Belarusians went one way I went another. But before that we told each other our first names and the father said, "God bless you Tom." Although I don't believe in that sort of thing, I told him, "God bless you Oleg". MORE
(From Asides)...
DEATH CAR - Regarding that business with the Porsche. Maybe I did exaggerate. Maybe not. Bill was driving (with brio and panache) his wife's Mercedes around a long sweeping curve at the end of I-95 in Miami when the Porsche appeared out of no where. If everybody had stayed the course he (she?) would have hit us somewhere between the right front fender and my door. The closing speed was maybe over 100 MPH. But Bill and the Porsche both twitched and we passed with feet to spare. It happened so fast there wasn't time to be afraid. (My one impression - not a thought - was that Bill's car was going to get messed up.) MORE
In my recent writing trying to explain the relationship between my dead wife and me I have used both terms - dark matter and dark energy. The former relates to hidden material - not necessarily pleasant or light, but necessary to explain the content of our lives. How we got to be the way we were. Dark energy is the motivation provided by our dark matter. MORE
I wondered if an adventure is any activity (trip, whatever) where there is the possibility that something good will happen and also the possibility that the whole thing will go horribly wrong. Younger people (I pontificated) often embark on adventures without much thought to the horribly wrong part but older people might embark on adventures anyway, either because they don’t care or because their need is so great. MORE
Allie wrote...
My brain is full of chocolate. MORE
I think we were ordained by our family histories to become joined if fate ever did bring us together. She was impelled by The Fall of her father (when his furniture business went bankrupt) and I by The Death of my mother. These events occurred in the mid-1950's and were followed by degrees of personal and family ruin. Of course both of us had been predisposed from childhood to become our adult selves. But these events made us worse. By the time I called that night we were so much alike that looking at each other was like peering into the same mirror - a flawed mirror with cracks. MORE
The story of an old man transported back in time to relive his life and participate in history, becoming a ghost in his own machine and the machines of others. The events shift between 1941 and 2010, culminating in Dealey Plaza on November 23, 1963. MORE
About Brenda, blind cat, and me. MORE
So, you ask, “What’s your point?”
Well, I think it’s pretty obvious. Stuff has gotten out of hand. It’s too hard to figure out. We often have to depend on experts; but, we don’t know which experts to trust. And sometimes to defend an unlikely position or just because we don’t know, we’ll proclaim “Anything is possible.”
It’s bad.
I think (for what it’s worth) that this is THE issue of our age. It’s not the questions we ask but how we figure out the answers. MORE
Bill Moore's transcription of a letter by Professor Jones when Jones was secretly living inside the office building of Cardinal Associates - posted on Bill's blog, Strange Room
Warm day. Rained like hell this morning. Got caught in it as I was on my way back from the post office. My porno didn't come.
"Darkness, darkness, hide my yearning for the things that cannot be."
(*Fair line from an otherwise inane and pedestrian rock song I just heard)
Had breakfast with my good drinking buddy Sam McA at the Trailways station. Rip off. Only place open though. Later we went to the poolroom on Sixth Street. Sam and I shot the shit with Dennis, Dick, Bubba, Mister Chollie, Shortie, Chico, and Rudy the wino. None of you know these dudes. They're all right. MORE
I have always been interested in the notion of context - how things get meaning from their surroundings. (Is meaning absolute/transcendent or relative/subjective? You know, existential shit.)
The latest round started when a friend complained that there were no overview manuals at her new job, just a lot of detail documentation. She was having trouble figuring out how stuff fits in. She needed a big picture, some context.
That reminded me of something I had read and blogged about a few weeks earlier, about how cell phone users create their own private conversational context and lose contact with their immediate physical context - which can cause problems, say, when driving a car.
After that, examples of context (or the lack thereof) kept popping up. MORE
...(aside) Both categories of conservatives in the new taxonomy seem self-centered. The wild-eyed crazies who fling spit and proclamations are self-centered in the way of children screaming me! me! me! The other conservatives are more subtle. By emphasizing competition and individualism over cooperation and empathy they diminish the social side of human existence. Like Nietzsche and Ayn Rand (who admired the German philosopher before she didn’t admire him) they have created a philosophy based on self-centeredness. MORE
Several European Union communities are experimenting with an approach to controlling traffic that seems to contradict the socialist style that is supposed to be the model for that region. Rather than being regulated by traffic lights and signs at intersections, people are left free to fend for themselves. Motorists, cyclists, and pedestrians must decide on their own who goes and who stops.
...My questions is would such freedom work in the United States - where at least half the population already passionately believes there is too much government control of our lives? Would the freedom-lovers cooperate?
Of course no one knows. But perhaps, paradoxically, those who value freedom most might need the most regulation. (Just as predatory social animals, like wolves and Southerners, need elaborate ritual behaviors to keep them from killing each another.) MORE
How do you know what you know?
If you don’t know what you know, can you trust anybody else to know it for you?
Be very suspicious. MORE
It's probably an age thing.
But I dislike being around people using cell phones. It isn't just the voices - loud and oblivious; it's the generally distracted air that envelops such people. The sense that they are somewhere else. To me, cell phone users look vaguely foolish - sort of the way people look when having sex. (Somebody - Chris Rock, Richard Pryor did a piece on that.)
I'm sure part of it is simply resentment. (I refuse to text. I will not tweet. And sex... well.) However, based on something I read, my bias, although still mostly an old person's nattering, might have some scientific justification. MORE