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adventures / friends / photo / Wednesday — Comments Off
21
Jul 15

I encourage you to sign up

I’m putting this link at the top and the bottom of the post for a reason.

A few weeks ago we were on our way to dinner when we heard the news. The darling little boy of some of our friends had been diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. News like that takes it out of you. But, as we were being sat at the restaurant I walked to the restroom to wash my hands.

On my way I googled the disease and found out it is rare, but highly treatable and with great success rates. That made it better, but it didn’t make the road ahead of the kid any easier. (He’s doing pretty great as of this writing, by the way.)

So people started doing what people do in those circumstances, because people can be awesome about what they do. The day after we heard the news Facebook groups sprung up, fundraisers were organized and we — and plenty of other people — sent away for bone marrow registries.

The free package arrived this weekend and weekend and we’ve sent them back. I wanted to tell you how easy this was.

There are three stickers you have to fix to various envelopes and paperwork. This is the most challenging part, because the directions weren’t especially clear. Then you take two long Q-tips and swab one on the inside of your cheeks for 30 seconds each. Put that and the paper form in the provided return envelope and drop it in the mail, postage free. In a few days we’ll be on the Delete Blood Cancer DKMS registry.

In finding that link I learned that every three minutes there’s another blood cancer diagnosis and that six out of 10 patients will not receive a bone marrow transplant they need.

Friends, think about that. A cheek swab, the possibility that one day you take a little trip and have a minor procedure to help someone as precious to their family and friends as the little boy we know, is an easy thing to do.

I hope you’ll consider registering today.

history / photo / Tuesday — Comments Off
20
Jul 15

Walking amidst rocks

I had occasion to visit a country cemetery about the same time the really silly parts of the Confederate flag conversation was going on. It is the kind of place where, standing in the center, you can see the cemetery was carved out of otherwise unused land. You don’t hear anything except the breeze and, occasionally, some far distance heavy machinery. You can’t even see the country road off which you turned onto the gravel path to get there. It is a pretty and peaceful place and in a part of the world where you still refer to people by a plural version of their family name.

The cemetery sits most of the way up a rolling part of a tiny, tiny foothill in the southern Appalachians, in a part of the region that, during the Civil War, was as confusing and complicated as any other. Most of the people that lived in this part of the world then weren’t even secessionists. Historically, you would find, that many of them saw the entire conflict as a war of the men that lived in other parts of the South. In this part of the world, then, things could get particularly personal and bitter. Supporters of both sides had violent conscription efforts terrifying families.

In fact, on one side of my family the young men tried to stay out of the war, but were eventually enlisted to the Union’s cause when their soldiers came through. On the other side of my family there are at least some documented Confederates and these people all lived within 30 or so miles of one another. This sort of thing was not uncommon in that area.

Anyway, the cemetery would have been a great opportunity to write another navel-gazing essay about the way of things. Near one entrance to the cemetery was the marker of this man, who I am not related to:

Someone placed a Confederate flag there.

To the left was an entire line of James Fleming’s family buried right alongside. A few generations and not many more plots away you read that some of his descendants served in later wars. And beside their markers someone had placed American flags.

Livingstone’s 8th Cavalry, by the way, was organized late in the war, reporting to duty in the summer of 1864 and fought in Alabama and Florida before surrendering at Gainesville the next year.

The TL:DR aspect of the essay would be that, for some people, this is complicated. That got lost in the heated rhetoric in the long-overdue move to take those flags from government land, which is probably fine. And it seems dismissed entirely in the even deeper rhetoric of that imagery in general, and that seems simultaneously good and a shame. For some people it is complicated.

Nearby here is another old cavalry man:

The 4th Alabama cavalry was formed in 1863 and fought in east Tennessee, Mississippi and all over north and central Alabama. They were essentially a hyperactive home guard before many of them were captured at Selma in the spring of 1865.

And I just put this one here because I like the name:

Ollice was a farmer before World War II. He had some grammar school under his belt. He was enlisted at Fort McClellan, in Anniston, a week before Pearl Harbor. That’s all I can find about him online.

Next time I’m in that area I’ll have to ask around. There are still plenty of McNatts in that area.

food / Monday / photo — Comments Off
19
Jul 15

Sink signage

I went with my mother a few weeks ago to this place called Genghis Grill. It is a stir fry place, the gimmick being that you pick all of the items that are going in your ridiculously-sized bowl. There are dozens of choices. My mother picked the place, I think, just to make me squirm over all of those decisions.

One of the things I decided on had something called dragon salt in it. The first part of the name should have been the warning. But, alas. Apparently, I have just learned, it is a mix of salt, garlic, cayenne pepper, ginger and Cajun spices. At the time I just thought it sounded cool. It was anything but.

The food was good, and plentiful. I had a lot to eat later that night, when it was even better, and the dragon salt wasn’t as intense by dinner time.

Anyway, in the restroom, was this sign:

Gengis, get it? I stumbled across that pic again in my phone just now. Thought it was worth sharing.

adventures / cycling / photo / running / swimming / weekend — Comments Off
18
Jul 15

Chattahoochee Challenge Sprint Tri

Got to the race in plenty of time. Got to the front of the swim start line, which was the plan. Had a decent swim, for me. But this is relative. If you’ve read about my triathlons here before you know I’m lousy in the water. But I took some time off my previous best in this particular river swim.

The Yankee was very fast in the water, as usual. I didn’t see her again until the run.

My bike leg was OK. I ride this route better when I ride it easy than when I ride it at pace, which I find amusing. My ride should have been better, but I dropped my sunglasses and decided to stop for them, which seemed silly in retrospect. It took what seemed like forever to get back up to speed after that.

And then when it was time to run I couldn’t find my legs. I was tired. It was hot. The run portion of this particular race is a good one. Scenic, historic, nice and flat. But there’s no shade. And I could have really used some shade today.

So my overall time was not good. But we had fun!

adventures / history / London / maps / photo / Thursday — Comments Off
16
Jul 15

The tank banks

I saw this piggy bank at Stonehenge. At the time I had no idea about the history behind it, which is, like most history, rather interesting.

It comes from a World War 1 British fund raising campaign. Six tanks toured the countryside promoting war bonds. You have to remember this is in the fall of 1917 and tanks were still the high end of war marvels. The public was fascinated to see in person what they were just starting to read about.

The tank rolled in with soldiers and artillery alongside. Airplanes dropped pamphlets, speeches were made. The tank was put through its paces before spending several days in the town with a table inside where people were giving money. They raised millions of pounds, nationally. Soon a competition emerged to see which place could raise the most money and “win” a tank. West Hartlepool would win and Egbert — they do know how to name things, don’t they? — stayed in the town until it was scrapped in 1937.

After the war was over, the government gave 264 tanks to towns and cities in 1919. Most just rusted out over time and sold for scrap. All but one was gone before the end of World War II. The town of Ashford still has their tank, the only one left. It is now a registered war memorial, though without its engine or gearbox and with replica armaments. You can see the tank here:

That tank, one of 1,200 Mark IVs the British built for that particular war, is thought to have never seen combat. Only eight remain. The Mark IV carried a crew of eight and traveled at seven miles per hour.