adventures


29
Aug 24

The gearing up for fall begins

It was a normal Thursday. I went to work, as one normally does. We stopped by a grocery store for fruit and water. I’d also carried a large bin of cut cantaloupe for the ride over.

Campus is just 15 miles, 25 or so minutes, away. We weren’t stocking up for a journey. So the fruit I cut last night was our in-car breakfast. The fruit tray and water was for our beginning-of-the-year department meeting. It was scheduled to run for five hours, including lunch. The meeting ran five hours, and then just a few extra minutes for the traditional grousing and venting that can occur in any meeting, anywhere in America. It was well plotted and well conducted, then.

The meeting began with a few ice breaker. We were asked to list our favorite movie from when we were younger — which was left deliberately vague in an ad hoc way — and how that impacted us. There were 15 people in the room, but it went pretty smoothly. Here are people who have given this thought, live the sort of examined lives that included this precise question or are pretty good at the ol’ razzle dazzle. Since they stand in front of college students and talk for a living, any of these things, all of these things, are possible.

I said The Princess Bride and Spaceballs, which have each, I suppose, informed an irreverent sense of humor. But, I said, lately I’ve been working on another project, which is to each day incorporate a line from Road House into conversation in a contextually appropriate way. The guy sitting nearest to me, an earnest, high energy, fast talking fellow who gives you the impression that he’s seen it all and came back again, said, “Be nice.”

Later I asked him about the message of his t-shirt. It was a direct reference to a British comedy and, he explained, a direct commentary on …

I’d only just met him, but told him we were going to get along just fine.

Much talking was done. Some writing was done. Advice was shared. People had questions. Sometimes there were answers. Other times, the answers would be forthcoming from other series of meetings. Academia in a nutshell.

And while this was happening all afternoon I received an email from the technology people that my new computer setup was in. I’d previously been told it would take a few weeks to arrive. Now, I’m under a barrage of emails, but it hasn’t been a couple of weeks. So a pleasant surprise. I made an appointment to stop by after the faculty meeting to get the new hardware.

There’s a place setup on campus designed to be evocative of Apple’s Genius Bar and that’s where the hardware distribution is taking place. The people there were perfectly lovely, pre-fall-term enthusiasm is a great vibe. I had a nice conversation with a young man where he came to realize that he could talk to me almost like a person who actually knew what was going on. I am not that person, but I know those people, and I have learned, over the years, the deft art of faking it. I walked out a short time later with two armfuls of things.

I did not sign the first document. I assume that they assume I am me because I knew my password.

And tomorrow I’ll start setting up some of that equipment. It was then, a productive day.

Just one song today, so I can cover the whole week. This is the first track from their 13th studio album which is turning 13 this fall. I mishear the chorus. It might be a deliberate choice because, sometimes I’ve finally learned, those are just better versions for you.

  

(Remember, I was shooting that from a ZIP code away, but the audio is pretty good.)

I take it as share the mood, rather than the moon. You can see why the latter works, but the thing that binds us to other people is the shared moment, of course, and that could be something with or without a celestial satellite. We just need a personal satellite, or to be the one orbiting others, maybe. Probably I’m overthinking this. Probably it’s just always been clunky hearing.

I mean it’s right there in the title of the song. I have the album, of course. I’ve seen Amy and Emily play this song live at least three or four times. Doesn’t matter. What is important is the mixture of what it all brings forward. There’s a certain tiredness, a resignation, in the lyrics, but in that third verse, above, there’s something more fundamentally aspirational at play. And it’s all underpinned by the E, by the mandolin and wrapped up in Lyris Hung’s beautiful violin. Who has not been on that road, going somewhere? Hoping to head to someone?

See? It’s a mood.

But I overthink, which is the prelude to overwriting.

And sometimes the prelude to underwriting, too, if you think about it.

So just a normal Thursday, then.


23
Aug 24

Still not over it

Last night, we went over the river.

We went for a poke bowl. This was when I learned something about poke bowls. The fish is raw — which is not my thing. Eat it fast and in big chunks, then.

And, next time, order the ramen bowl, like you initially planned to do.

Anyway, it was a lovely night for dining outside. We were the only people at the place, so we timed it right. And the food was good, except for, you know.

The purpose of that trip was to go see a rock ‘n’ roll show. I am, of course, going to get two posts out of this.

Opening the show was Melissa Etheridge. I bought her first albums as cassette tapes. They were loud and a little rowdy and a lot intense. Or, as she said last night … (Excuse the video quality, we were roughly a quarter of a mile away.)

  

That’s a good summation, the raw lyrics, the talented guitar work, it all worked very well.

For me, it was all about those first three albums — even though I was playing catch up. Someone played me a song as a teen and that 12-string guitar got my attention and her sound kept it. Superstardom was obviously on the way, the drama was there, and she was belting things out as fast as she could churn them out, and she’s been prolific for decades. Sixteen studio albums, five of them platinum, two golds. She’s supported them with 43 singles, including 11 that charted and six landing in the Top 40. She’s moved more than 25 million units, not counting whatever her digital sales are. But, again, for me, it was the first three records. Time and place. Lightning in a bottle. An earnestness that matched a feeling, whatever it was. If I had to narrow it down further, it just might be about this song. And, man, I still can’t believe this happened. It’ll take days to get over this. (Update — Still not over it.)

  

Amy and Emily doing melody on the song about two people running away together, or just running away? I do not know the extent to which a pop ballad can move a person, but there I was, thinking, No way 16 year-old me could have pictured any of this.

I suppose we could have left then and I would have felt as though I’d had my fill. How often can you say that just a handful of songs into a show? But you don’t do that, because there’s always the potential for magic in the air. They rolled out a piano and Etheridge put down her guitar and played a Joan Armatrading classic.

  

One day, someone is going to figure out that Melissa Etheridge has just been riffing on Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel and Joan Armatrading her whole career. And why not? It works.

She’s 63 and still brings it. I’d never really had a desire to see her in concert, and I see now that was my loss. She put on a terrific show, and that was only the first half. We’ll get to the rest of the show next week.

Back at home, we have a new friend in the backyard. I just happened to catch this in the light as I went about the evening chores. Much better to see it than feel it.

It’ll be interesting to watch that web work evolve, I’m sure.

Meanwhile, over in the giant leaf district, we will find giant leaves.

That plant sits next to the water spigot, so it gets a bit of extra water whenever that’s on. I assume that’s why it’s taller than me now. Thankfully the brown-eyed susans that are growing next to it have no similar ambitions. But who knows what they’ll get up to this weekend.

And you? What are you up to this weekend? Make sure it is a good one!


19
Aug 24

#GoRenGo

Some many years ago I had a brief passing thought about a photograph project. What would it be like to shoot all of the rust? It has a certain beauty. It says, well, a few different things, if you contemplate it long enough. It’s also everywhere.

And sometimes, I find myself staring at a bit of rust.

When I do, I think of that passing thought. How long would that take? And who are you kidding? How many things would rust away by the time you got back to the starting point? Saturday, when I was looking at that bridge, I wondered, wWhat does all of the rust in the world weigh?

I was staring at that bridge while my lovely bride was checking in for her triathlon. She did a half iron this weekend.

The half iron includes a 1.2 mile swim, in a river, this time. Here, she is exiting the water right on schedule.

Immediately after that, there’s a 56 mile bike ride.

  

She dropped her chain, and said someone swung out in front of her and ran her off the road. She was OK. At least two different people were less fortunate, and had accidents involving cars. Excellent job securing those semi-controlled roads by the race organizers and local authorities.

And after that 1.2 mile run, and well-paced 56 mile ride, she had a half marathon to wrap up the event. Here she is setting out for the run.

  

She had a great swim, and she was pleased with her bike ride. But she did not care for her run. Aches and pain and no shade and so on and so forth. Nevertheless, when she made it to the line, she finished with a smile.

  

And that’s her fifth 70.3, to go alongside her three Ironmen triathlons. And wraps up the best part of the season. I think she has one or two more runs scheduled, just for fun, but everything is for fun from here. (It should all be fun, I say. Finish with a smile, that’s what I say.)

On the way back home today, we stopped at this place. ‘

Because, look, when you tell a trusted friend you are driving through her native neck of the woods and she simply replies that you have to go eat at this place, you take the advice.

Our trusted friend was spot on with that recommendation.

Today was a long day in the car; there was a lot of reading Wikipedia to pass the time. Tomorrow, it’ll be back to work.


13
Aug 24

Two nights and one day

Late last night, technically early this morning, I took out the garbage. (Now, isn’t that a way to start a post!?) And it was there that I coined a new phrase. That phrase is “Anything worth doing is worth doing with an LED light.”

The expression came about because I didn’t have my phone on me — always when I need a camera. So I went in to grab my phone, which made me realize that it was too dark to capture my subject. So I went back inside for a camp light. Because somehow, in the darkness, I saw this guy.

My new friend stuck around for quite some time, posing up a storm, allowing me to photograph him in profile. When I turned to get those head-on shots, it got curious and started walking toward me. On the fence post the mantis got bold, and turned to reach out to me. Unfortunately, for the brief moment the air sparring went on, I was unable to get the auto=focus on the phone to cooperate.

And then the mantis jumped, flew, or fell off the post. I was careful, walking away, to make sure it wasn’t underfoot.

I was called for jury duty today. I wasn’t called today, but I had to report today. They called me a month or so ago. It’s an interesting process. I received a postcard in the mail. Log in to the site, create the 4,397th password in your life. Watch a poorly produced 28 minute video extolling the very real virtues of our judicial system. Log back in to the site and certify you watched the video.

You are informed you’ll get messages, via email and text, on when to report for jury duty. And I was told it would be yesterday. But Friday I was told to report today, Tuesday. At noon, thankfully.

They could have said 1:30, because that’s when we finally got pulled into a courtroom. This after checking in and two rounds of taking attendance. People of all ages remember how to say “Here” when their name is called.

People sat quietly, scanning their phone, reading books and so on, and then a deputy who takes his courthouse duty Very Seriously commanded us to go upstairs to the courtroom. So we did. A moment later he came in and said, no not this second floor courtroom, but the courtroom on the third floor. And, thus, he lightened up a bit and found himself able to make a joke or two. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, someone in the courtroom upstairs is potentially counting on some of these people.

We made it into the courtroom. Two prosecutors, a defense attorney and his client. The judge and three clerk/staff members. Two deputies. On the way into the room we received a pencil and a seven-page document. These were the voir dire questions. The judge explained a few things, had us watch an even lower quality video, and then read the entire seven-page voir dire document to us. Then, he brought in the partial jury. It seemed they need to find four more people. So the clerk would call a name from this selection pool, and the person would go the bench. They played white noise in the courtroom so the rest of us couldn’t hear the private conversations. This went on, one by one, until the jury was full.

My name did not get called. At the end of it, it took about three hours, the judge said our service was fulfilled and thanked us. Everyone fairly well scrambled from the courtroom, as if you’d pulled a fire alarm.

The trial is scheduled to run through mid-September, which would have been a problem at work, so I’m glad I did not have to go through voir dire. Just as well. It’s a double murder trial. As I’m no longer under consideration for the jury, I tried to look it up, but it was four years ago in a virtual news desert, so there aren’t a lot of details available.

Tonight, we went outside to see if we could catch the end of the Perseids. It was a perfect night for it. Nice and mild, with a beautiful cricket symphony coming from our right.

I saw two, maybe three. My lovely bride saw four.


1
Aug 24

New stuff in the routine

At the beginning of each month I do a lot of important and boring things. I create a few new subdirectories for the site. I delete a bunch of stuff from the desktop of my computer. I update a document that holds a lot of standard code shortcuts that I use.

And so on. It is all terribly exciting.

One other interesting thing that I do is update the images on the front page. The rotating photos now feature a small piece of something we saw in California this spring. Head on over to the front page to check those out. It’ll take you 54 seconds for the rotation to carry you through. We’ll be right here when you get back.

My joking complaint about triathlons is that they start too early. We need hobbies, I say, that cost less and don’t start at dawn; if they don’t require too much running, more the better.

So, last night, because the story of this day began last night, as so many of them do, my lovely bride told me that she’d signed up for a super sprint triathlon she found a half hour away. And would I like to go? Also, the race started at 6:30 in the p.m.

Since that was my complaint, it seemed only fair that I should go in support.

Super sprints are short, but I had a long swim the day before, and I haven’t run in a while, so it’s just support, and that’s probably for the better. I’ve done one super sprint, thinking, at the finish line, that I am not able to get everything going in the right direction in those short distances.

Which is a shame, since they are shorter, and I am slow.

But I am a great observer of races. I am well practiced in this area. And, of all of the races we’ve done, I don’t recall having seen one with a flyover.

She’s out there, somewhere. She’s the one swimmer among much of the thrashing. It was just a 500 meter swim, and even then, the water was shallow enough that some of the dudes just stood up in the last 50 or so and waded in.

They all looked gross. This little pond is fed by this, South Branch Rancocas Creek. And it isn’t as nice as you might imagine here. There was a fine black particulate. The Millpond mildew. Something thinner than rubber, and thicker than dust, clung to everything. Whatever was contracted from this event will be given a name in due time.

The bike leg, she said, was nice. Good pavement, fast roads.

  

The run was one big loop. Neither that, nor the bike ride, would wipe away that stuff that latched on to everyone in the water.

When we left, because it was an early evening tri, we timed the sunset just right. I liked it. Almost didn’t take it. But I did, and I’m glad for it.

We celebrated with Chick-fil-A. The triathlon, not that last photo.