Where It's At
I knew where Jenn would be, and when. I stepped off the 17 at 3rd & Pine, crossed the street and leered at her.
The bus stop at 3rd & Pike is not the most comforting of places... I don't really understand how the ghetto can be smaller than a city block, but it is, and it's at this bus stop. It didn't surprise me that Jenn didn't make eye contact, and it didn't surprise me that she ignored me when I tapped her shoulder. I was, however, surprised she didn't kill me outright when I yelled, "Hey!"
I told her my rent was on the shelf at home, and I was going to a show.
I walked a mile up the Hill and discovered I'd arrived an hour and a half early. So I looked around at this previously unexplored part of town. I heard music--good music--being played. It sounded live, but didn't seem to be coming from inside Neumos. It seemed to be coming from an abandoned building, in fact. I crossed the street and look in an open window, to discover a bar. Not much of one--there were three tables, and a bar, period--but they hosted good music at least. I don't know who they were, but they sounded like Over the Rhine.
After they wrapped up, I crossed the street again, and this time heard a violin. A short girl with a shaved head was playing, and quite well. The box next to her shook, and I assumed there must be some pet inside. Until I saw the eye through an airhole. And then the finger.
A knife penetrated the cardboard from within, and soon a new, larger airhole was created. And then another, still larger. An arm came out of one, a leg through another, and I wondered for a moment if I weren't watching a live production of Svankmajer's Alice.
The music stopped, and the girl pushed the limbs back into the box, and started playing again. Three pieces later, and the box was done for. The man inside put it into recycling, and then the duo were approached by Jason Webley, whom I was there to see. And then I heard music again from the bar with no name. This time it was a song I'd heard three times earlier in the day, but never before. It was something about watching television on a Saturday night, as well as I could gather, and I wondered at its significance. But I was snapped back to the world around me as Anna arrived and introduced me to the enormous and lumberjacinal Peter, John (whom I recognized instantly, just as I did James Funderburk when I had never met him before), and Webley.
As I heard stories of Jason Webley's amazing travels and adventures, and as the duo started another performance (this time a puppet dance, which became a puppet sex-scene, again to the girl's violin), Anna explained that this particular intersection was just like Burning Man.
Inside, my I.D. was in question. It didn't help that I got the ID just a few weeks before I left J140, and therefore didn't remember which address I'd put on it. Yes, I've lost wieght. Yes, I have facial hair now. Yes, I'm a long way from "home." I need a new I.D.
I finally made it in, and paid way too much for a drink ($4 for a cup of Blue Moon, later $8 for a large Red Stripe), and sat down to read Walden Two while the opening band played. Peter read Choke, and a passing guy stopped and told Peter what a genius Chuck was. I'd taken him for some frattish guy, but encouraged be Peter's, "Yeah?" he stayed long enough to really engage us with a description of Chuck's subtlety and style.
Downstairs, Jason Webley engaged us as well, having the audience emulate trombones and eventually tickle each other. There were two girls who seemed really out of place, and didn't look like they were having fun. I wondered why they would be at what was, for the most part, a Sleepytime Gorilla Museum show (and they didn't seem to appreciate Webley, either), but I didn't care, once SGM was on. It was loud and strange and hot by that point, and I was falling asleep.
The 4th of July
Independence day is an interesting holiday to work retail. I remember working it at Blockbuster in Dickson, TN, when nobody would come in past sunset. We were able to relax, goof off (not that much stood in the way of that most days, there). I remember standing outside, washing the windows, and hearing fireworks but not seeing any.
This year I'm working BN in Issaquah, WA, and it was nice. Everybody through the day was pleasant, and we closed early. I'd mentioned to my boss that I was thinking of going to Gas Works Park to see the fireworks. She told me she'd lived across Lake Union from there, and she and her neighbors used to get together on the 4th and watch the people as the park filled--people coming in as early as 8AM to get a good spot.
I got home and had a couple beers & supper, and wondered if I really wanted to walk to the park just to be crowded in and probably not get a good view. As soon as I realized the alternative was to sit around the house, I was out the door.
I had not been able to imagine so many people filling this park, so I was pretty amazed when I arrived. Since the sun sets so freaking late here, I decided to see how high up Kite Hill I could make it before the show started, and it turned out I could make it all the way to the top. I had plenty of personal space, and a great view of the lake. I realized then that I was surrounded by thousands of people, and that I'd have to get out of the park. Fortunately, after the best fireworks I've seen in the default world, I found that getting out was no trouble.
Once I realized that I wasn't going to be standing still for an hour as the mob exited the park, I set myself a goal of never slowing down. Of finding the simplest, most efficient way home. This was fun--I ended up climbing the rails from one level of sidewalk to the next, climbing on a boat trailer, and hopping a couple fences, and following heavy boat traffic. I actually ended up passing my house and having to backtrack.
And I was alseep in my bed by 11:30.
The Pirate Festival
I woke up Saturday and felt lazy. I knew I had to go to the Seafair Pirates' Landing, but really I just felt like laying in bed and watching "Heroes" on DVD. I texted Anna (who I may have come to reply on too much for adventure supply), but got no reply. I asked Jenn & Josh if they'd like to go, but they were looking forward to spending a day at home. So yeah, I watched "Heroes."
I finally did hear from Anna, who was on her way there, so I got off my butt & hit the road. I got there a bit before her and looked around... at how lame it was. There was some kind of pole vault event taking place--not very Piratey, but the most interesting thing going on. There was also a massive inflated pirate ship being taken down by a massive inflated octopus... which was really just a big, inflated slide--even better than the one at Rachel's halloween party in 2006 (but no, Scott, not because of the Asian girl factor, alas). And there were maybe four people dressed up in anything I'd call nearly-authentic pirate costumes.
So we left, and found food across the street. The sign on the building suggested they served soup, salad, and Pegasus, but the last turned out to be pizza. And they didn't even serve pizza with horse meat, which would at least have been (I'm supposing) a close approximation of Pegasus... Ah well, it was darn fine pizza anyway.
And then it started to rain. So we left, planning to invite Mark & Maitreya to join us at the Seattle Asian Art Museum. We didn't get ahold of them, and Jenn was alseep on the couch when I came back to the house, but we went anyway. Here's a great thing to know: the museum is free on the first Saturday of each month. Se we didn't have to pay, which is good considering they closed 20 minutes after we arrived.
From there we crossed the park to the water tower, which was awesome. It's your average metal silo of a water tower, but it's surrounded by two spiralling stairs and a brick wall, so you can walk safely and legally to the top of the tower and look out all over Seattle. It's gorgeous, basically.
The Amber Guard
Coming down the stairs, I stopped to look out windows and when I came out at the bottom, rather than finding Anna, I found ninjas. I was surrounded!
I ducked around them and spied some people in really breezy, comfortable looking hazmat suits, with gas masks. So we sat back and watched what we later learned was a short film being made, featuring costumes from lastwear.com (the link is to the deviant.art page, since the website's mostly undeveloped just yet).
The Bookstore That Read My Mind
Walking in to Capitol Hill's Half Price Books, I was troubled. Just two days earlier, I'd found a book at work that I thought I'd like to have, but thought also was overpriced. But now that I was at the store, I couldn't think of which book it was. At the bottom of the stairs, I turned and saw a copy of Dr No. Ah, yes! That reminded me, I was looking for one of the 007 books--but not that one. When I lifted Dr No from the shelf, the store seemed to say, "Oh, no? Well maybe... this one?" And behold! There, waiting for me, was For Your Eyes Only, the book I'd hoped for. A few minutes later, thought to look for Jonathan Carroll's books, but didn't know whether they'd be found in Fiction or Sci-Fi. I was in the sci-fi and turned to look where fiction would be, and there, between the two sections, was a display featuring a JC book I'd never heard of. Sadly, that's where the mind-reading stopped being useful, as I was looking for The Land of Laughs, which the bookstore did not have.
They did have a British edition of The Time Traveler's Wife on hand, which had a quote at the beginning that's not in the American edition. It wasn't a particularly wonderful quote, however. It did have sand in the bind, though, and I was pleased to know someone read it at the beach.
The Worst Statue in Seattle
"What do you think this statue means?"
Nothing good: four small men support a globe while one enormous man (all in top hats and tail coats) stands atop it, holding as much money as can fit in his arms. He seems to be taking a giant penny from a tiny woman.
"You don't think he's giving it to her?"
It's a penny, so I don't that perspective lends anything much better to the statue's suggestion.
To the man at the door of Seattle's Grand Hyatt (in front of which the statue stands): "Excuse me--do you know what the statue means?"
"Means?" This is not something he's asked every day, of course. "Capitalism," he guesses.
Another man appears behind him. "Interpretation," he says. "Any work of art is open to interpretation, and it means whatever you see in it. But," he adds, "the name is The Miser."
"It's been called the Worst Statue in Seattle," adds the first man.
An Unoriginal Novel
Walking up Pike Street in Capital Hill, I was stopped by a guy at a table. He handed me a piece of paper with a quote on it, and told me if I liked it, he'd tell me more. (Anna got a different quote.) I like quotes in general, so agreed to hear what he had to say.
His name is Brett Dean McGibbon, and he's written a book called Lucifer's Redemption. He's a character, and he has a sales pitch. He also makes his living, selling his book on the streets. In the past seven years, he's sold 11,000 copies. (He's written two other books. "I've stopped selling them, though, because people buy them," he said. He prefers to sell only this book, which he prints and binds himself.) He sells his paperback for $5 (or donation; I got my copy for $2), his color paperback for $10, and leather-bound copies for $20 or $30, depending on the quality of leather. It's not at all a bad-looking book, and the leather-bounds are really quite soft.
So here's the premise of the book (straight from his pitch): "So the devil is born on Earth, but this time he's human. Which means he has a human heart. Which means he can love. And he learns to love God--in a woman!"
And here's the description of the book (from the back cover): "...born on earth but with one weakness: a human heart. Riding a motorcycle to Alaska he finally falls in love with God-in a woman..."
Did I mention this book is self-published? Mr McGibbon seemed that I should be impressed with this novel idea, along with the mind-blowing revelation that there are "lots of different stories about the devil."
The next day, Scott and I created other stories that could benefit from Mr McGibbon's sales pitch. My favorites:
"Dolph Lundgren is a robot, but he has a human heart, and in that heart, there's a cybernetic implant that allows him to love. Finally, he learns to love Steven Segal--as a woman."
"An eskimo, ice-fishing at the North Pole, raises his line to discover... a human heart, which allows him to love. With this new ability, he comes to love God--in a polar bear."
But as laughable as the sales pitch was, I actually am interested in the book. The premise may not be original, but it's not necessarily common. And goodness knows I'm fascinated by stories what involve redemption and [self-]discovery.
And actually, I was grabbed by the quote he handed me originally: "Apparently, like a seed, for the stubborn like me, the hard shell of the heart must crack, be broken before anything worthwhile can bloom." After all, I'm out to break the hard shell off anyone's heart that I encounter... and I seem to have developed one of my own.
He said he wants to get this book out into as many hands as he can (he admitted, even before I gave him my $2, that he'd sell it for a nickel, if it meant it would be in the hands of someone who might get it). He believes the world needs compassion very much right now and (this would be one of the big reasons I bought the book) he believes his book can help.
If you like either his sales pitch or this one, check him out at Different Fish Publishing.
Kubota Garden
This isn't really a story. I just thought it would be a shame to talk about this past weekend and not mention the Kubota Garden. I heard about it on NPR the other day, and decided to check it out. It's just south of Seattle (technically, I believe it's in Tukwila, but really it was only a fifteen minute drive (if that) from the heart of downtown Seattle. It's a twenty-acre Japanese garden, with bridges and ponds and streams and hidden paths galore. And it's open every day (except specified holidays like Christmas), during all daylight hours (and have I mentioned that the sun is up by five, and down around ten?). Oh yeah, and it's free. Suck it, Cheekwood.
Showing posts with label BN. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BN. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
new adventures!
I'm really happy about this: I have done a lot in the past nine days.
I have a tendency to be lazy--one of my biggest motivations in leaving Tennessee was to escape what I thought of as a "sedentary lifestyle." So any week in which I leave the house two or more times (for something other than work) is a big step for me, but it's a first step, and I hope to reach a point where I spend the majority of my time out & about.
Here's some of the things I've done lately:
--I walked with Anna down to the waterfront, and took a ferry to Bainbridge Island, where we had pizza, and then returned to play Rock Band until we dropped.
--Saw Dr Robert Thurman speak at SPL on the Dalai Lama, and how the world might (he says will) change through a Buddhist perspective.
--Explored the U. District, where Anna introduced me to an awesome bookstore and an equally awesome video store (the movies are arranged alphabetically by director!), and then we talked about Mike Samberg over drinks at an Irish pub.
--I finally got to work in receiving at BN. I guess since that's what they hired me to do, and since I've been there for a month now, they finally decided to put me in there. I celebrated by spending my lunch break that day drinking and writing.
--Friday I went downtown to join my aunt, uncle & cousin in seeing Alexander Nevsky, while the Seattle Symphony and Chorale performed Prokofiev's score to the film.
--yesterday I took a bus to the U. District... it became stuck in traffic (yesterday was UW's graduation) so I hopped off & walked around until I found my way to Maitreya & Mark's house, and we went to see the Mariners lose to the Nationals. None of us are fans of baseball (actually, I think yesterday was the first baseball game I ever watched that wasn't a video game), but Mark had free tickets so it was worth doing. This was the first time I met Mark, and the first time I'd seen Maitreya in probably ten years.
--Today I joined my aunt, uncle & cousin again, this time for Fathers' Day brunch. That was very nice, and Bria (my cousin) and I followed it up by going down to the pier and touring one of the boats from Discovery Channel's "Deadliest Catch." It was freaking cool (Bria liked neither the motor-oil smell, nor the discomfort of it, but I thought it was awesome, and am now considering going out with them for a season).
Anyway, that's the laundry list of recent accomplishments. Not the most exciting, but oh well. I'm going to go now, and try to get rid of this headache.
Oh, yeah, but before I do, I just thought I'd mention the fact that it's been in the mid-sixties for the past two days here, and I consider it to be wicked hot. Mark & Treya, having just moved here from Jersey, were asking about becoming acclimated, and I'd say it happens pretty quickly... considering I've been here only six weeks, and that I moved here from Arizona (where it was 117°F yesterday).
I have a tendency to be lazy--one of my biggest motivations in leaving Tennessee was to escape what I thought of as a "sedentary lifestyle." So any week in which I leave the house two or more times (for something other than work) is a big step for me, but it's a first step, and I hope to reach a point where I spend the majority of my time out & about.
Here's some of the things I've done lately:
--I walked with Anna down to the waterfront, and took a ferry to Bainbridge Island, where we had pizza, and then returned to play Rock Band until we dropped.
--Saw Dr Robert Thurman speak at SPL on the Dalai Lama, and how the world might (he says will) change through a Buddhist perspective.
--Explored the U. District, where Anna introduced me to an awesome bookstore and an equally awesome video store (the movies are arranged alphabetically by director!), and then we talked about Mike Samberg over drinks at an Irish pub.
--I finally got to work in receiving at BN. I guess since that's what they hired me to do, and since I've been there for a month now, they finally decided to put me in there. I celebrated by spending my lunch break that day drinking and writing.
--Friday I went downtown to join my aunt, uncle & cousin in seeing Alexander Nevsky, while the Seattle Symphony and Chorale performed Prokofiev's score to the film.
--yesterday I took a bus to the U. District... it became stuck in traffic (yesterday was UW's graduation) so I hopped off & walked around until I found my way to Maitreya & Mark's house, and we went to see the Mariners lose to the Nationals. None of us are fans of baseball (actually, I think yesterday was the first baseball game I ever watched that wasn't a video game), but Mark had free tickets so it was worth doing. This was the first time I met Mark, and the first time I'd seen Maitreya in probably ten years.
--Today I joined my aunt, uncle & cousin again, this time for Fathers' Day brunch. That was very nice, and Bria (my cousin) and I followed it up by going down to the pier and touring one of the boats from Discovery Channel's "Deadliest Catch." It was freaking cool (Bria liked neither the motor-oil smell, nor the discomfort of it, but I thought it was awesome, and am now considering going out with them for a season).
Anyway, that's the laundry list of recent accomplishments. Not the most exciting, but oh well. I'm going to go now, and try to get rid of this headache.
Oh, yeah, but before I do, I just thought I'd mention the fact that it's been in the mid-sixties for the past two days here, and I consider it to be wicked hot. Mark & Treya, having just moved here from Jersey, were asking about becoming acclimated, and I'd say it happens pretty quickly... considering I've been here only six weeks, and that I moved here from Arizona (where it was 117°F yesterday).
Friday, June 6, 2008
Almost there...
There are two reasons why I named this blog Almost There. One of these reasons I'll go into at a time when I'm feeling particularly homesick; the other reason is connected to this postcard from Post Secret:
Something's happening in this world. I think it's been building for a while, and I think it's going to happen soon. Michael and I discussed this last summer--the way I see the world, and the way he sees the world, it is not unique. This much is evidenced by the fact that we see our thoughts and feelings echoed in books and songs and film--even some created before we were born.
I'm now interested in Eckhart Tolle, who I admit I dismissed immediately once I heard he was Oprah's New Big Thing (the last NBT I heard of from Oprah was Dr Phil). The new issue of Shambhala Sun has an article on him, which says, '[he] sees his books as catalysts contributing to the arising of a new, less egoic consiousness and "a more enlightened humanity."'
That's what we saw, discussing the matter last July. We're not starting any revolutions, here; we're contributing to the one that already exists. In his autibiography, Providence, Daniel Quinn explains that in the seventies, he was aware that his generation's "revolution" would fail. But he also realized it wouldn't die--the embers would burn beneath, and the next generation would pick it up. That's why he wrote Ishmael (and his other books). Today I bought his book Beyond Civilization, (non-fiction; it's found under 'Social Sciences' at Barnes & Noble). About it (and within it), he says,
...
I have had some really amazing fortune. Somewhere in my life, I developed the tendency to draw lines between events, to notice connections. So I felt it was really significant that I've met some amazing people--but even more amazing to see how they fit together. I've got friends who are interested in communal living, and I've got friends with land they're interested in providing for a commune. I know some wicked clever scientific minds. What is always surprising to me, though, is that I also keep meeting people who know--just know--they are going to change the world. Honestly, I cannot count on one hand the number of people that have confided this "secret" to me in the past year. The way I see it, there's an army of prophets-to-be developing. It's an exciting thing to witness.
I feel drawn forward, and I've felt the current growing stronger over the past, lord, twelve years. And in the past year I've felt it increase exponentially. I made up my mind, back in 2001, to do what I'm doing with my life. But I was too afraid; I had the belief, but not the faith, that it wouldn't kill me to separate myself from the world I knew but didn't understand. I finally took that leap of faith, and went from crawling forward to being hurled at breakneck speeds. That's one thing I don't think people catch, sometimes--I'm not in this for the fun or for the adventure. I'm doing what feels to me like the "right thing to do." I'm following a sign like Socrates's, and I'm motivated to do so by curiosity: "For some reason, I feel like I should do this... I wonder what will happen if I do..."
What I mean to say is, I took a leap of faith, to have conviction in what I believe. And since I did, even my lowest moments have felt better than my highest points spent not chasing this dream. I've faced the hardest and most painful things I ever have, just in the past few months, but I've found myself handing them much more capably than I handled lesser woes in my past. I feel like a better, stronger person than ever before, and know I'll only improbe in these respects as I continue to follow this path.
I feel like we're standing on the edge of something big. Take a leap of faith with me.
Something's happening in this world. I think it's been building for a while, and I think it's going to happen soon. Michael and I discussed this last summer--the way I see the world, and the way he sees the world, it is not unique. This much is evidenced by the fact that we see our thoughts and feelings echoed in books and songs and film--even some created before we were born.
I'm now interested in Eckhart Tolle, who I admit I dismissed immediately once I heard he was Oprah's New Big Thing (the last NBT I heard of from Oprah was Dr Phil). The new issue of Shambhala Sun has an article on him, which says, '[he] sees his books as catalysts contributing to the arising of a new, less egoic consiousness and "a more enlightened humanity."'
That's what we saw, discussing the matter last July. We're not starting any revolutions, here; we're contributing to the one that already exists. In his autibiography, Providence, Daniel Quinn explains that in the seventies, he was aware that his generation's "revolution" would fail. But he also realized it wouldn't die--the embers would burn beneath, and the next generation would pick it up. That's why he wrote Ishmael (and his other books). Today I bought his book Beyond Civilization, (non-fiction; it's found under 'Social Sciences' at Barnes & Noble). About it (and within it), he says,
Over and over again, literally thousands of times, people have said to me or written to me, "I understand what you're saying--you've changed the way I see the world and our place in it--but what are we supposed to DO about it?
I might have said, "Isn't it obvious?" But obviously it isn't obvious--or anything remotely like obvious.
In this book I hope to make it obvious.
...
I have had some really amazing fortune. Somewhere in my life, I developed the tendency to draw lines between events, to notice connections. So I felt it was really significant that I've met some amazing people--but even more amazing to see how they fit together. I've got friends who are interested in communal living, and I've got friends with land they're interested in providing for a commune. I know some wicked clever scientific minds. What is always surprising to me, though, is that I also keep meeting people who know--just know--they are going to change the world. Honestly, I cannot count on one hand the number of people that have confided this "secret" to me in the past year. The way I see it, there's an army of prophets-to-be developing. It's an exciting thing to witness.
I feel drawn forward, and I've felt the current growing stronger over the past, lord, twelve years. And in the past year I've felt it increase exponentially. I made up my mind, back in 2001, to do what I'm doing with my life. But I was too afraid; I had the belief, but not the faith, that it wouldn't kill me to separate myself from the world I knew but didn't understand. I finally took that leap of faith, and went from crawling forward to being hurled at breakneck speeds. That's one thing I don't think people catch, sometimes--I'm not in this for the fun or for the adventure. I'm doing what feels to me like the "right thing to do." I'm following a sign like Socrates's, and I'm motivated to do so by curiosity: "For some reason, I feel like I should do this... I wonder what will happen if I do..."
What I mean to say is, I took a leap of faith, to have conviction in what I believe. And since I did, even my lowest moments have felt better than my highest points spent not chasing this dream. I've faced the hardest and most painful things I ever have, just in the past few months, but I've found myself handing them much more capably than I handled lesser woes in my past. I feel like a better, stronger person than ever before, and know I'll only improbe in these respects as I continue to follow this path.
I feel like we're standing on the edge of something big. Take a leap of faith with me.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
adventure, excitement... and retail
Saturday found me waking up after only four hours of sleep and packing (since I only ever do things at the last minute). I met Anna about thirty seconds before climbing into her car and setting out for... adventure!
Actually, the first part involved finding our way to her horseback riding lesson, and me reading Walden Two, and talking to my Aunt BeaJo (as opposed to the sleeping I'd hoped to do). But then... adventure!
Actually, before adventure came excitement: 1) good conversation, 2) awesome new music, and 3) Aberdeen. I was ridiculously giddy to exprience this small town. I was too excited to see it subjectively--this is where Kurt Cobain grew up, so I couldn't imagine it being as small and lame as it was. It was pretty, because all of Washington is, as far as I've seen. There were highschool students outside the supermarket offering free car washes, free bottled water, and free flowers. When we asked why they were doing it, they told us they were just doing something nice. Awesome. But otherwise, it really did appear to be a Logging Town. (But the best part: the sign, "Welcome to Aberdeen, Come As You Are.")
I stood on the muddy bank and took a picture of the Wishkah for Kim, and then we got back on the road... to adventure!
Of course, when I had made the decision to go on a camping trip, I also made the decision to go relatively unprepared. I had enough to survive--peanut butter, honey, trail mix, clothes. But the comforts and conveniences? Not so much. That just wouldn't be "me." Anna was kind enough to lend a spare sleeping bag and pad, and we purchased all kinds of food in Aberdeen (roasting mushrooms over a fire along with hot dogs and garlic bread? awesome). So really all I lacked would be the boots (which I left in Tucson). Waterproof? Ankle support? Screw that, I decided to abuse my red Chucks instead.
So that's the set up; now here's the setting: We hiked several miles of trail (well maintained, not very physically taxing) into the Hoh Rain Forest. It was amazing, but the description does no justice: very large trees, very green everything, the wonderful sound of the Hoh River, small waterfalls and streams to navigate around (or most often, through).
Three miles in, we set up camp. The exciting part here: we had to put our food up, out of the reach of bears. At this particular camping site, they had a line set up on a pulley, so we could clip our food to the line and raise it like a flag. We were told that the bears wouldn't bother us, but if a bear got into someone's food, they would learn to follow future campers and bother them. So if a bear gets into someone's food, then the park is shut down and they kill that bear. So we kept to food up.
Then we enjoyed further hiking without our weighty packs, which left us more free and comfortable to enjoy some of what we'd been walking past. There was one fallen tree in oarticular in which I could have parked my car. There were trees that had grown together in interesting ways. And, my favorite, there were trees that gave the impression of dancing.
There was also an interesting spot that grabbed my interest without explanation. It was like that spot in Mammoth Cave that grabbed me last year, where it had been closed for decades after a tunnel collapsed. Haunting. Intriguing.
We also met a fellow named Andy from Wisconsin who looked like Pestilence from Good Omens, but seemed like my friend Kyle. He asked if we were married, hah.
We met up with him again at the five-mile point--it was beautiful there, but he was moving on to a less populated spot, and we turned back to get to camp by dark.
We failed to figure out the cooking contraption she'd brought, and we spent the next three hours building and maintaining a fire.
It was remarkably nice to wake up in a rain forest. Our camp was right by the water, so once we convinced ourselves to leave the tent (for me, this meant I had to put on my cold, wet shoes), we started up another fire and had lunch. Looking at the river, Anna spotted a tree in the river which would be awesome for sitting on & reading. So I set about for a way to cross the river (meanwhile, she satisfied herself to crash in the sand and read instead).
This was fun, because it involved walking out on one fallen tree, and turning onto another fallen tree... this section of the river had collected probably hundreds of trees, and there were enough big ones connecting at odd angles to form an entire road system, resulting in a maze of huge dead trees. Eventually I found a way to cross, which at the end involved dangling from a tree and dropping--not far, but enough that I would have to find another way back.
At this point, though, I was just on a small island, still only halfway across the river, and there were no more trees to find my way to the tree I was looking for. But there were elk tracks on my little island. Weird.
Anyway, to get back was an adventure. I found myself walking to the very end of one branch and jumping to the next, or to the ground... I would normally be terrified, and maybe it was a result of being so far removed from my usual habitat, but I was pretty okay with it. A little nervous, but all it took to keep moving was to remember that the worst case scenario was I'd fall a few feet into a river. And I can swim.
I found Anna crashed in the sand, and went back to the tent and crashed as well. Considering we each had to be at work in the morning, we should have left much earlier, but too good a time was had to give it up. We did eventually pack up, though, and set out towards the car, and stopping to contemplate one of the streams before resigning to walk though it, and also to admire a gathering of elk in the trail. It was practically dark when we made it back to the car. Driving out of the park, we almost hit an elk and a cougar, and we did hit a rabbit and an owl. How does a bird get hit by a car? Wtf?
The drive back was highlighted by a conversation about heroes--who are they, and what makes them so? This is a subject that occupies my mind much of the time. Socrates tops my list of heroes: when faced with death, he was given options to avoid it. He could leave Athens. He could say he was sorry, and promise to not go about corrupting the youth any more. But instead he remained committed to his personal view: He had done nothing wrong. Not only that, but his accusers were doing themselves and their country a disservice by bringing this about.
So for me, it's a matter of conviction--living by the words you claim are worth living by. But not only conviction... one figure who commonly finds himself in my conversations of heroism is Adolf Hitler. I don't consider him a hero of mine, however he seems to possess any number of attributes I use in identifying the people who I do. So I still haven't figured exactly what it is that makes someone my hero...
This subject actually grew out of a conversation about lying--when is it better to lie? I contend that it never is. It's a gun I sometimes fail to stick by, but that does not mean I think I've ever made the better choice when I've done it...
Anyway, our five-hour drive went on like this until I finally got home at 2:00AM.
8:45 found me at the Barnes & Noble in Issaquah. I love the fact that, when hard-up for a job, I can count on walking out of a B&N with one. Ideally I'd prefer to work in a cool independent store, but really, I won't complain if I'm working with books at all.
The store's a bit of a drive (25-30 minutes each way), but that drive is a beautiful one. I cross the Puget Sound twice each direction, as I approach and leave Mercer Island. And Issaquah has a bit of a snobby feel, but it's real nice. Our store has a huge duck pond behind it, and across that pond is a rad sitting area, and a Red Robin. And our side of the pond has a movie theatre and a Trader Joes.
And the store is quite small--if you took the music section out of Tucson's store, the Issaquah store is half the size of what would be left. The receiving room, where I'll be working mostly, is a third of Tucson's. That means it's cramped. And it's a completely different vibe--all the employees are wicked different from those I've worked with before. It's a very political feel, but not at all uncomfortable. I guess it's really just about people who place importance on very different things from what I'm used to. We listen to NPR. We recycle the packing stuffs.
And it's a retail job, so I won't talk too much about it.
Anyway, I'm going to get moving... it's 1:00PM, and I haven't done anything today (except watch The Discovery Channel, and this). I've got to get into town and do some laundry, and buy the new Dresden Dolls CD (and talk myself out of seeing Indiana Jones, and buying the new Roots CD...)
Actually, the first part involved finding our way to her horseback riding lesson, and me reading Walden Two, and talking to my Aunt BeaJo (as opposed to the sleeping I'd hoped to do). But then... adventure!
Actually, before adventure came excitement: 1) good conversation, 2) awesome new music, and 3) Aberdeen. I was ridiculously giddy to exprience this small town. I was too excited to see it subjectively--this is where Kurt Cobain grew up, so I couldn't imagine it being as small and lame as it was. It was pretty, because all of Washington is, as far as I've seen. There were highschool students outside the supermarket offering free car washes, free bottled water, and free flowers. When we asked why they were doing it, they told us they were just doing something nice. Awesome. But otherwise, it really did appear to be a Logging Town. (But the best part: the sign, "Welcome to Aberdeen, Come As You Are.")
I stood on the muddy bank and took a picture of the Wishkah for Kim, and then we got back on the road... to adventure!
Of course, when I had made the decision to go on a camping trip, I also made the decision to go relatively unprepared. I had enough to survive--peanut butter, honey, trail mix, clothes. But the comforts and conveniences? Not so much. That just wouldn't be "me." Anna was kind enough to lend a spare sleeping bag and pad, and we purchased all kinds of food in Aberdeen (roasting mushrooms over a fire along with hot dogs and garlic bread? awesome). So really all I lacked would be the boots (which I left in Tucson). Waterproof? Ankle support? Screw that, I decided to abuse my red Chucks instead.
So that's the set up; now here's the setting: We hiked several miles of trail (well maintained, not very physically taxing) into the Hoh Rain Forest. It was amazing, but the description does no justice: very large trees, very green everything, the wonderful sound of the Hoh River, small waterfalls and streams to navigate around (or most often, through).
Three miles in, we set up camp. The exciting part here: we had to put our food up, out of the reach of bears. At this particular camping site, they had a line set up on a pulley, so we could clip our food to the line and raise it like a flag. We were told that the bears wouldn't bother us, but if a bear got into someone's food, they would learn to follow future campers and bother them. So if a bear gets into someone's food, then the park is shut down and they kill that bear. So we kept to food up.
Then we enjoyed further hiking without our weighty packs, which left us more free and comfortable to enjoy some of what we'd been walking past. There was one fallen tree in oarticular in which I could have parked my car. There were trees that had grown together in interesting ways. And, my favorite, there were trees that gave the impression of dancing.
There was also an interesting spot that grabbed my interest without explanation. It was like that spot in Mammoth Cave that grabbed me last year, where it had been closed for decades after a tunnel collapsed. Haunting. Intriguing.
We also met a fellow named Andy from Wisconsin who looked like Pestilence from Good Omens, but seemed like my friend Kyle. He asked if we were married, hah.
We met up with him again at the five-mile point--it was beautiful there, but he was moving on to a less populated spot, and we turned back to get to camp by dark.
We failed to figure out the cooking contraption she'd brought, and we spent the next three hours building and maintaining a fire.
It was remarkably nice to wake up in a rain forest. Our camp was right by the water, so once we convinced ourselves to leave the tent (for me, this meant I had to put on my cold, wet shoes), we started up another fire and had lunch. Looking at the river, Anna spotted a tree in the river which would be awesome for sitting on & reading. So I set about for a way to cross the river (meanwhile, she satisfied herself to crash in the sand and read instead).
This was fun, because it involved walking out on one fallen tree, and turning onto another fallen tree... this section of the river had collected probably hundreds of trees, and there were enough big ones connecting at odd angles to form an entire road system, resulting in a maze of huge dead trees. Eventually I found a way to cross, which at the end involved dangling from a tree and dropping--not far, but enough that I would have to find another way back.
At this point, though, I was just on a small island, still only halfway across the river, and there were no more trees to find my way to the tree I was looking for. But there were elk tracks on my little island. Weird.
Anyway, to get back was an adventure. I found myself walking to the very end of one branch and jumping to the next, or to the ground... I would normally be terrified, and maybe it was a result of being so far removed from my usual habitat, but I was pretty okay with it. A little nervous, but all it took to keep moving was to remember that the worst case scenario was I'd fall a few feet into a river. And I can swim.
I found Anna crashed in the sand, and went back to the tent and crashed as well. Considering we each had to be at work in the morning, we should have left much earlier, but too good a time was had to give it up. We did eventually pack up, though, and set out towards the car, and stopping to contemplate one of the streams before resigning to walk though it, and also to admire a gathering of elk in the trail. It was practically dark when we made it back to the car. Driving out of the park, we almost hit an elk and a cougar, and we did hit a rabbit and an owl. How does a bird get hit by a car? Wtf?
The drive back was highlighted by a conversation about heroes--who are they, and what makes them so? This is a subject that occupies my mind much of the time. Socrates tops my list of heroes: when faced with death, he was given options to avoid it. He could leave Athens. He could say he was sorry, and promise to not go about corrupting the youth any more. But instead he remained committed to his personal view: He had done nothing wrong. Not only that, but his accusers were doing themselves and their country a disservice by bringing this about.
So for me, it's a matter of conviction--living by the words you claim are worth living by. But not only conviction... one figure who commonly finds himself in my conversations of heroism is Adolf Hitler. I don't consider him a hero of mine, however he seems to possess any number of attributes I use in identifying the people who I do. So I still haven't figured exactly what it is that makes someone my hero...
This subject actually grew out of a conversation about lying--when is it better to lie? I contend that it never is. It's a gun I sometimes fail to stick by, but that does not mean I think I've ever made the better choice when I've done it...
Anyway, our five-hour drive went on like this until I finally got home at 2:00AM.
8:45 found me at the Barnes & Noble in Issaquah. I love the fact that, when hard-up for a job, I can count on walking out of a B&N with one. Ideally I'd prefer to work in a cool independent store, but really, I won't complain if I'm working with books at all.
The store's a bit of a drive (25-30 minutes each way), but that drive is a beautiful one. I cross the Puget Sound twice each direction, as I approach and leave Mercer Island. And Issaquah has a bit of a snobby feel, but it's real nice. Our store has a huge duck pond behind it, and across that pond is a rad sitting area, and a Red Robin. And our side of the pond has a movie theatre and a Trader Joes.
And the store is quite small--if you took the music section out of Tucson's store, the Issaquah store is half the size of what would be left. The receiving room, where I'll be working mostly, is a third of Tucson's. That means it's cramped. And it's a completely different vibe--all the employees are wicked different from those I've worked with before. It's a very political feel, but not at all uncomfortable. I guess it's really just about people who place importance on very different things from what I'm used to. We listen to NPR. We recycle the packing stuffs.
And it's a retail job, so I won't talk too much about it.
Anyway, I'm going to get moving... it's 1:00PM, and I haven't done anything today (except watch The Discovery Channel, and this). I've got to get into town and do some laundry, and buy the new Dresden Dolls CD (and talk myself out of seeing Indiana Jones, and buying the new Roots CD...)
Friday, April 18, 2008
Here we go again...
New stuff, so new blog. Hopefully this one's for the long haul.
Last night was, well, my last night, at the BN here in Tucson. Now I'm giving myself three days to pack (that's really being generous; if I wasn't allowed to be so lazy, I'd be done today), and then the rest of the week to get as much done on the 3rd St house as possible.
Of course, I've also got other things to do:
I've got to return things to the Himmel library. This is sad for me, because it is the quirkiest library I've ever seen. They seem to have less than half of any series of books I've looked for, and never the first book of any of them. And then the selection of individual books is... eclectic. And of course they have Hot Librarian... sigh, I will miss her.
I've got one more Metal Tuesday left... The weekly MetalHead show at Cactus Moon is the most oddly unifying experience I've had... Josh went, then I went, then Josh and I went, and I met his friend Krista, and Adrienne went, then Dawna, and Corben, and now Pam and Kara and Kristen and Krystal. I've worked with all of these people for six months, and I'm only now getting to know them, all due to the power of this 80s metal cover band.
"Lost" will return to television before I leave. That irritates me a bit, only because it reminds me a dragged my feel a couple of weeks; I thought I'd be in Seattle by now. That won't stop me from getting my "Lost" fix, though. I should get a car charger for my phone, because I'll probably spend hours talking to Mark and Scott and my father about whatever new craziness develops within that hour.
I ought to also settle things with First Tennessee; clear up my account with them (last I checked, in August, I was $200 under), so I can open up a new account. It has occurred to me that I may not find hotels to stay at on my trip, since I don't have a valid credit/debit card for them to authorize (which is ridiculously a common requirement, even when paying cash for the stay).
Last but foremost, I have to get over something ridiculous that's been going on in my head since January...
Last night was, well, my last night, at the BN here in Tucson. Now I'm giving myself three days to pack (that's really being generous; if I wasn't allowed to be so lazy, I'd be done today), and then the rest of the week to get as much done on the 3rd St house as possible.
Of course, I've also got other things to do:
I've got to return things to the Himmel library. This is sad for me, because it is the quirkiest library I've ever seen. They seem to have less than half of any series of books I've looked for, and never the first book of any of them. And then the selection of individual books is... eclectic. And of course they have Hot Librarian... sigh, I will miss her.
I've got one more Metal Tuesday left... The weekly MetalHead show at Cactus Moon is the most oddly unifying experience I've had... Josh went, then I went, then Josh and I went, and I met his friend Krista, and Adrienne went, then Dawna, and Corben, and now Pam and Kara and Kristen and Krystal. I've worked with all of these people for six months, and I'm only now getting to know them, all due to the power of this 80s metal cover band.
"Lost" will return to television before I leave. That irritates me a bit, only because it reminds me a dragged my feel a couple of weeks; I thought I'd be in Seattle by now. That won't stop me from getting my "Lost" fix, though. I should get a car charger for my phone, because I'll probably spend hours talking to Mark and Scott and my father about whatever new craziness develops within that hour.
I ought to also settle things with First Tennessee; clear up my account with them (last I checked, in August, I was $200 under), so I can open up a new account. It has occurred to me that I may not find hotels to stay at on my trip, since I don't have a valid credit/debit card for them to authorize (which is ridiculously a common requirement, even when paying cash for the stay).
Last but foremost, I have to get over something ridiculous that's been going on in my head since January...
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