Miscellany of His Mind

His wife is studying in the other room while listening to the Milwaukee country station.

He finished The Historian last night. He couldn’t set it down once he broke into the last one-hundred pages. The book ended nicely. Not everything fell together, but that is a little more realistic, he thought. Were the preceding 678 pages necessary to achieve the same feeling at the end? He doesn’t think so, but they were entertaining none the less.

He is still unemployed and doing what he can. He told me he is sick of talking about it with people. Just sick. He knows people want to know, but don’t ask him. That is my job. When he has something to report he will tell me and I will relay the information. Got it? Good. Until then let’s talk about books, movies, America’s Dairyland, and Colorado sunsets.

He has never had the library system of a big city at his fingertips. It exhilarates him. Sometimes I have to keep him on task because he searches for books on the online catalog. He found one today. He told me it wasn’t at the nearest library though. I told him to look again. Lo and behold, there is a way to select a book and have it shipped to the nearest library. We discovered that together. We reserved one copy of I Am Legend for pick up at the Oak Creek branch.

Before he reads I Am Legend he needs to finish I’m A Stranger Here Myself, by Bill Bryson. Bryson is one of his favorite authors. This book is a collection of short essays that Bryson wrote upon returning to the United States—his homeland—after a 20-year hiatus in England. Bryson’s sense of humor is so dry and cynical it makes Bryce burst out in laughter in front of anyone and no one. Bryce says it isn’t that long of a book, but he will finish it soon. It is certainly not like The Historian.

He is on a vampire kick. That’s what I Am Legend is about. It is being made into a movie. Will Smith is in it. You might have seen the preview, he says. Smith is left on Manhattan Island. He is the only human. Everyone else is undead. He thinks that Smith fights off the vampires. He doesn’t know. There is an itch to find out, and he will when Oak Creek gets the book in.

His new favorite place to rent movies is the library. They are free, and you get them for a week. He is going to go watch the rest of Mulholland Drive later.

His eyes get dried out by the ceiling fan above him. He ends up blinking a lot. I can tell he is getting annoyed by it. I think we should go now. He is waving goodbye to the computer. Goodbye.

The Wisconsin State Fair

The Wisconsin State Fair may be about a lot of things, but mainly it's about food. Lining every walkway of the fairgrounds are booths selling almost anything edible, that is, if you aren’t a vegan or vegetarian. This is meat eating country. And since Wisconsin is America’s Dairyland, you’d be hard pressed to find something lactose-free or with half the fat.

Actually, Wisconsin’s products don’t come fattening enough for fair-goers. Everything is deep-fried. The health nuts get the deep-fried pickle spears or eggplant. The more liberal mouths chomp on deep-fried mozzarella bits or cheese curds.

Everyone indulges in the most famous treat of the fair, the Crème Puff. The line for them is a good five minutes long. The Crème Puff starts as an ordinary, thin pastry. An assembly line of teenagers build the pastries non-stop for the hordes of fans who have come from every corner of the state and beyond for the main attraction. The pastry is cut in half and the bottom half receives a four inch high tower of whipped cream. The top half is lightly pressed onto the whipped cream. The final touch is a blizzard of powdered sugar. That’s it. Once you scarf your Wisconsin State Fair Crème Puff down you can safely go home. If you do one thing at the fair, you do that.

If you fancy the homegrown products the fair offers a Wisconsin Products tent. Everything under this roof is born, bred, raised, and slaughtered in Wisconsin. The tent has the fair staples, but it also features Wisconsin milk, meat, candied apples, grilled cheese sandwiches made with Real Wisconsin Cheese, and the sausages and bratwursts.

And what would a Wisconsin event be without a wide selection of beer. The only problem…they all have Miller somewhere in the name. Damn.

This one's for the Mick

We went to the Wisconsin State Fair today. There will be more about that later, but for now, I have a picture for a good friend of mine. I wish you were with us to get a pint of the Irish brew.

My Favorite Picture

Guardian Films

The Guardian's Sean Smith's videos of life in Iraq for our troops and their citizens won't be shown in the US all that much, if at all, so click on the links and watch them yourself. The videos are graphic, gut-wrenching, and saddening. They are what our news media can't report...honesty.

Part I

Part II

Today at Barnes and Noble

While strolling around the store I gravitated toward the bargain books. This aisle is always filled with huge photography books of world famous cities, landmarks, and countries.

I picked up a book on Scotland and flipped through its enormous, heavy pages. As familiar places flickered by, the corners of my mouth would twinge slightly in a pseudo-smile or I would let out a deep sigh of joy and reflection. As I set that book down, another one caught my eye. This one was on London. I’m a sucker. I picked it up.

Why do I love London so much? Beyond the museums, people, pubs, churches, and history, why am I still obsessed with the place? It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense sometimes. I was there for four months. I would rather visit London a second, third, and fourth time before visiting elsewhere first.

London makes me feel like someone. Longmont didn’t necessarily make me feel like a nobody. London put me on the map, not the map of popularity or success, but the map of independence. Perhaps London put me on the map of importance. I felt an incredible sense of pride and joy as I strolled along those streets hardened by hundreds of years of history. History happens in London, it always will. I knew this throughout my soul and mind by the time I had to leave. I was one of 7 million in a city that was one.

London is built up and has no room for expansion. Unlike in the U.S., where there is so much space planners see no need to put things next to each other, in London the planners have no room to build because the place is 1,000 years old. There is a true heart of the city, perhaps a heart more recognizable than the center of any city I have visited in the United States.

As I travel into that heart I am transported to the epicenter of the Western world and modern civilization. At its core London can enlighten the most un-expecting traveler. I wasn’t un-expecting. I knew the city would teach me, but how much? I had no idea.

And in the midst of London teaching me I became enchanted with its architecture, culture, people, beauty, and its transportation system. London has taken a piece of me and I have of it. I want more. Ideally, I want more by going back and living there. For now, I have to take the old-fashioned approach by following London in word, audio, and film, in order to live there because a part of me always will.

*This is not my photo. Don't use it.

You say that I'm a dreamer, I say you're a non-believer

LOS ANGELES(AP) After months of rumors, Nicole Richie confirmed Tuesday that she is pregnant. "Yes I am. We are," Richie told ABC News' Diane Sawyer for an interview to be aired this week. "I'm almost four months." Richie's boyfriend, Good Charlotte frontman Joel Madden, is the father, she told ABC, which issued a news release about the interview.

"When I speak, it's like no one understands..." - "Screamer" - Joel - Good Charlotte

Not surprising, Joel. Not surprising.

Cribs: Milwaukee Edition

There is a video of our place on facebook. So, all of you that have an account there you can go check it out. I am still trying to get one on the blog for everyone to see. I will upload another one to facebook as well. Cheers.

McDonald's New Soda Size

File this one under why are Americans obese? Why are there 4,100 new cases of Diabetes everyday? Or, simply, why I might have muffin top, a bingo wing, or back cleavage.

“McDonald’s Supersize soda just got a friendlier name. Hugo is the new name for the 42-oz. (1.25L) soft drink, which has more than 400 calories.”

“When the fast-food chain opened in 1955, the largest soda was 7 oz. (about 200mL).”

This is wrong. Hugo? What the hell? Even if Chipotle had a soda that size I wouldn’t be okay with it.

Source: “Supersized Again.” Time 6 August. 2007: 17

Cribs: Milwaukee Edition

Kate and I made a video of the apartment yesterday. I am trying to get it uploaded onto YouTube so I can easily post it here, but no such luck yet. I am going to get it on here very soon. I promise.

Fish Fry First

When you go out to eat on Friday in Wisconsin you go to a fish fry. Every local restaurant, bowling alleys, community centers, and maybe even gas stations has specials on fried cod. Fish and chips basically.

We had our first Wisconsin fish fry tonight. It wasn’t Kate’s first fish fry, but it was our first together since moving here a few weeks ago.

The whole fish fry phenomenon is hard to explain. I don’t know where the tradition comes from. I don’t know why it is fish. Why not steak? Ribs? Crab? Falafel?

I bet you if you stop at the first local restaurant you see in Milwaukee it will have a fish special on Friday night. Whether it will be good fish or bad fish is a tougher call.

Tonight, we went all in on Beer Belly’s Restaurant. It was a draw.

It is easy to make a mediocre fried Cod and French Fries. That is how I would describe Beer Belly’s Cod dinner. I ate it. It was decent. I won’t ever have the desire to have it again. There must be a perfect ratio of batter to fish. The batter must accent the fish, but not overwhelm it. The fish should be moist enough to not zap your mouth of all that greasy batter right away. The fish tonight was not good enough for the batter it was cooked in. That’s why Beer Belly’s came up short tonight.

The restaurant definitely felt like a local joint. So, if I was a local, I think Beer Belly’s would receive high marks, but I am not. The place was packed, loud, plastered with cheesy depictions and photographs of famous Packers and Brewers of the past and the present. Also worth mentioning, I felt out of place because I wasn’t in cutoff jean shorts and a camouflage trucker hat. I feel we got some stares just for that. You throw in the fact that I was a good six inches taller than anyone in the place and Kate is a babe and you get a lot of stares. Stares bring the atmosphere way down. Way down. I can’t blame Beer Belly’s for that. It takes some serious talent to make me feel unaware of my size in a public place. I hold those places that do near and dear to my heart. Maybe, just maybe, we will find a good fish fry in Milwaukee that will do exactly that.

It is 7:39pm in Colorado

I am into brevity right now. Let’s get to it.

I am still unemployed.

I have been offered a part-time assistant swim coach position at UW-Milwaukee. It sounds great. I would need another job though and that is why I haven’t taken the position…yet.

Kate works a lot. Tomorrow is her 12^th straight day of work. She gets this weekend off. We are excited. I am excited. I love her.

I still don’t know anyone in Milwaukee. I spend an extremely large amount of time alone.

I run and bike for exercise. That hasn’t changed much. It hasn’t been too hot lately.

I am used to loud trains. They don’t bother me. They might bother you when you come to visit.

Wisconsin drivers are annoying. Maybe it is just Milwaukee drivers?

Mullets seem a little more common out here. One day I saw three.

There is a full liquor store in every grocery store. It is so hick. I sort of love it.

My desktop picture is of Manhattan Beach and the Manhattan Beach Pier at Sunset. I was there. The picture brings back the breeze. Cold sand between my toes. Crashing of waves.

I have never had cable internet before. It is fast.

The Daily Show is on at 10 around here. No more staying up until midnight to wait for it.

Our study is a mess. Everything that doesn’t have a place and isn’t unpacked is behind me.

This is my 364^th posting on Six Hours on Sunday.

I won’t ever be able to see that pier into Lake Michigan and not think about the trip I had out here with my wife and two fine gentlemen. I see them leap from it. Sounds of that trip come to me when the apartment is dark and empty. They make me smile.

Our vacuum is a beast.

We haven’t found a church yet. The first one we tried was awful. I can’t be polite about it. I have never been to anything like it before. I think if there was ever a church that could scare someone away from Christianity and convince them followers of Jesus are crazy it might be that one. Sad to say.

Redbox hasn’t made it to Milwaukee. Chipotle has.

I keep a map of London on my desk. I look at it at least once a week.

Quote of the Day

Russell Brooks, an Australian who rode his bike up the climb of the Aubisque before parking it to watch the racers travel by, disagrees, saying he believes doping should be allowed.

“Why not just let them take it?,” he asked. “As long as it’s only harmful to themselves, it should be okay. They’re only entertaining the public anyway.” And it is understandable, he said, given that teams require sponsorships to survive, and sponsors like to see their team gain victories.

“It’s the same thing at the club level back in Australia,” Brooks said. “Our club likes to get results so we can get a sponsorship for next year.” - The New York Times, July 25, 2007, By Edward Wyatt

What a fool.

Trip to Madison

I offered to drive with Kate today to Madison. She had to take a licensing exam and when you need that done in Wisconsin you have to come to the capitol. We easily found the licensing building. I couldn’t stay with Kate so I was going to find a place to stop just up the road. So much for that idea. Madison is under construction and driving here sucks. I just drove around the city trying to find any commercial district for the last 45 minutes. I feel like I had to leave the city to find any kind of store. So the impression Madison is leaving me with right now isn’t good.

The university is huge. I would hate to go here for school. The student body is something like 40,000. Someone I used to know from Fort Collins went here to play football. He did so because he was good, but also because this is where his older brother went to play football. The roads suck in Madison, just like everywhere else in this state. Really, there are no newly paved roads out here.

With my luck lately I was surprised that Kate didn’t call me the minute I got a drink and sat down to this computer. I might be here for two more hours. I might be here for two more minutes.

I am ending this now. I am going to write something else or read more of The Historian.

A Walk in the Woods

After Kate went in to work I took a drive to one of the parks nearby. I drove to Grant Park and pulled off the road to hop on this trail that runs parallel to Lake Michigan. The forest and its ceiling remind me of being in the woods near Princeton. I haven't seen a forest like this since I left New Jersey, maybe a bit in England but it wasn't this green in winter. I walked around for a bit snapping a few pictures and meandering my way down to the water a few times. Maybe by uploading some photos I can give you an image of what life in Milwaukee looks like. An apartment walk through, courtesy of YouTube, should be up in the next week. Okay. Back to the forest...

Some sun sneaks through the canopy.

There are paths leading to cliffs and beaches all along the walk.

It is hard for me to believe that is a lake. It could be the Pacific minus salt and big waves.

*Thanks to Bill Bryson. I borrowed the title of a book of his for this post. It is a great one.

Wedding Day

When I look at pictures of the wedding day I feel like it was years ago or a big dream I had. Kate feels the same way. It was surreal. For four years we knew we were going to marry each other. Our eleven-month engagement was full of work, school, and crazy wedding planning especially in the last couple of months. Before long the week was upon us and Kate and I were struggling to slow things down and relax. I really started to worry that I would get caught up in the stress with Kate and then come out of it only to find that what was supposed to be the “best day of our lives”, according to everyone else, had passed us by while we were at the Marriott choosing the napkin color and fold.

Luckily, that didn’t happen. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were three amazing days—the best of my life. I was humbled again and again by this amazing group of friends that treat me so well. I was humbled by seeing so many people come together to celebrate the union of Kate and I. I was humbled by toasts. I was humbled by amazing parents on both sides of the aisle that I owe so much to. Lastly, I was brought to my knees before God when Kate rounded that corner in the atrium of the church so I could see her. From that point until Tim handed me the arm of his firstborn were the most humbling moments of my life. I was overcome with emotion and, as many of you could see, pretty much cried during the whole ceremony.

I felt out of place at times because during the week of your wedding all eyes are on you. And, well, all eyes were on us. It felt weird, but I was constantly reminding myself that they aren’t staring at me because I am 6’9” or because my fly is down, rather they stare because that was our day, our week, and a leap of love and faith that you just don’t want to miss. So you stare, hoping you can read the person’s feelings or record the moment with a smile, an image, or sound bite.

The attention, no matter how unusual, could not take my eyes off Kate for more than a few seconds that day. She was beautiful before, but I was taken aback by how stunning she looked that day. It was like seeing her for the very first time. He makes all things new. I felt that on the wedding day. I still do. That is a part of love at its best.

The Amtrak

Here is a video I took--all by myself!--of the Amtrak coming by the apartment. This is the 11:05 train, meaning it comes by our place every weekday at that time, bound for Chicago. In the video it sounds like I say, "It is about to get wowed." I said loud. I don't know why it sounds like I am five years old. Enjoy.

To Rachel

I have definitely fallen behind with the birthday blogs. Accept this as my official apology and a weak promise to do a birthday blog for two fine gentlemen sometime in the near future.

Today is Rachel's birthday. This captivating image of her was taken the morning her steed (Travis) was leaving for Milwaukee with the moving crew.

I told Travis a few weeks ago that I have been surprised at the amount of growth our friendship has seen in the last year and a half. He is an amazing dude, but this isn't about him today. This is about Travis' honey bunches, Rachel.

Rachel might be the most consistent reader of this blog. I discovered that before I even could remember her last name. Sorry, Rachel. Apparently she likes what I say on here. That is both cool and shocking. Yeah, someone likes this blog. Wow, someone likes this blog. I don't know the Rachel of the past. I know the Rachel of the present, the Rachel that went off to college on a golf scholarship, tore it up out there, won a conference title, got everything in her house stolen from her, started a blog herself, and has tried to follow God with every step.

I am excited to know the Rachel of the future. Hear, hear!

Today in Wisconsin

A 500-pound man goes tubing for the first time.

He ends up needing help.

Boats and a helicopter aren't enough to pull the man out of the river. The rescue workers must tie three canoes together in order to save the man.

Oh Yeah!

A Borat wannabe makes an appearance at the Tour de France.

Blog the Wedding

Some of you have been requesting a blog about the wedding, the honeymoon, and being married. I think I have something in me about all that, but whatever it is, it is not going to be this blog that encapsulates the joy and excitement I had during the week of the wedding and all the fun Kate and I are having now as a newly married couple.

That's it. I wanted to let you know that I have been thinking about it. It is just not at the blogging phase. Maybe it will be tomorrow.

The Untouchables

I have actually had some time to read this week, not much time, but enough to get caught up through a couple of back issues of Time. Rupert Murdoch recently made the July 9 cover. The article was an eye-opener for me. I knew he was a media mogul but I didn’t know that he alone owns 100 newspapers. Anyway, we all know who the guy is.

At one point in the interview he said, “My worry about the New York Times is that it’s got the only position as a national élitist general-interest paper. So the network news picks up its cues from the Times. And local papers do too. It has a huge influence. And we’d love to challenge it.”

I don’t think Murdoch would be saying this if he owned the New York Times, but forget that for now.

What he says about the NY Times accurately sums up some of my feelings toward the paper. It is the only high profile paper out there. But what about the USA Today? What about it? Every article in the paper comes with a color diagram just in case you don’t make it through the 500-word article. It doesn’t contend with the Times. The Times is alone in its dominance of mainstream dailies.

And the Times does have this air about it. Sure, they have writing superpowers, but ones that are treated as untouchable by many of the big networks. You can’t disagree with the Times and remain respected in that many circles. If you make a habit of picking apart the Times’ reporting you dig yourself a hole or you join Fox News.

The name of this paper, The New York Times, carries with it infallibility and greatness. You can’t deny it has acquired that respect from having world class writing and reporting, but I feel like the Times is just getting by on its name. It would be nice to see a challenger to their monopoly.

The Move

The move to Milwaukee started months ago as Kate brought van load after van load of stuff to the Longmont house and as I packed my stuff away in hand-me-down boxes from my grandparents. It ended when Kate and I put Chris and Travis on a plane destined for the west. The in between was full of sacrifice, laughter, and hard work that made the goodbye at the airport hard and the apartment so quiet when we got back. So this is a little bit of the in between, but not all, that belongs to the four of us that shared those four days in and out of the three vehicle train that drove through five states and covered 1100 miles.

Day 1: When renting a U-Haul don’t expect to get the size of truck you want. We reserved a 17-footer. We got a 26-footer. Initially I was so freaked out about maneuvering the beast that I tried to get anything smaller and thought of canceling the reservation. I quickly realized that it would take maybe up to a week for a smaller truck to come our way. I had to drive that ugly, rotten behemoth to Milwaukee…all by myself. As I drove to Allen Drive the truck calmed my nerves. It was slow, jerked when I pressed on the brakes, and smelled of U-Haul, but it moved, and there was a lot of space for our stuff.

Chris, Travis, Kyle, and Rachel were all a huge help later that day when we started loading the truck. We stacked the truck waist high from end to end so things didn’t slip too much. Chris proved he was an excellent packer. No pun intended. Okay…pun intended. The hetero and homosexual punning was perhaps at an all time high for the days to follow.

The 26, the Maxima, and the Regal rolled out of Longmont shortly after 7am on July 3. Our first stop was Ogallala, Nebraska. The truck took $175 worth of gas there. She was getting 8-7 miles a gallon, but cruised really well at 70 mph. We really didn’t know how far the truck was going to allow us to get that day. I was hoping for Cedar Rapids at least, but just outside of Lincoln we realized that we were making much better time than that. We decided to shoot for Des Moines.

It should be said that I was the only driver who had to drive the entire way. We didn’t pay for an extra driver on the U-Haul. So I owned all the miles between here and Allen Drive. However, the person who wasn’t driving at the time always rode with me. I was spoiled by company, so I really had it sort of easy. Chris brought his iPod and FM transmitter, which didn't leave the U-Haul once. He was kind enough to introduce me to Immortal Technique, a Peruvian-born NYC rapper, who has a lot of educating to do through arrogant and angry words. I enjoyed perusing through his lyrics and the rest of Mr. Nicoletti’s fine music collection. There was one album missing from his library though. Luckily, the self-titled Good Charlotte album was in the Maxima, still written onto the Seattle Doulos copy that saw at least 50 spins on that trip. Chris rocked out to that throwback piece of noise a lot.

Des Moines was a great place to stop. Milwaukee was within 400 miles, so we got the big chunk of driving out of the way. Now we just had to find a place to stay. We pulled into a Travelodge and a Baymont. We first went into the sketchy looking Travelodge and got a room quote. We then walked around the corner to the Baymont to get a quote there. The Baymont looked much nicer and wasn’t that much more. We decided to book there. I left the lobby with Travis to walk back to the cars. When we rounded the corner I could see the back of the Regal and Maxima fifty yards ahead of me. Immediately, I was drawn to the Regal. Its reverse lights were on. Holy shit, I thought. Someone is in the Regal. Our pace quickened and the Regal backed out. My heart was really racing at this point. I was so shocked. How could this happen? I even got more scared when I saw the driver was hiding underneath a shirt. The Regal started coming toward us. Travis moved to the side. I didn’t move. I positioned myself right in front of the Regal and decided I would move at the last second possible. This person was not going to get away. The Regal came very close and then stopped. By that point Travis was at the driver’s side window. The driver took the shirt off and I saw Chris Nicoletti behind the wheel. I was drastically relieved, cursed out loud, and congratulated Chris on completely punking me. Chris had sprinted to the cars by way of another route to beat us there. I later found out that Travis’ plan was to ask for directions and then rock the poor bastard behind the wheel with an Irish fist. My plan: block car with body and probably get badly hurt as I fail to move out of the way at the last second. There had to be something there to slow the driver down and I was fine with it being me. That dude behind the wheel was not going to get away with Kate’s car.

I was completely convinced that the Regal was being stolen right in front of my eyes. My heart didn’t stop racing for a while and it was such a rush of emotion that thinking of it even now gets me going.

Day 2: We rolled out around 7:30 on this day. We drove through the rest of Iowa before stopping on the banks of the Mississippi for gas and snacks. After crossing the river we were in Illinois and we were only one state away from our final destination. It was an ideal time to listen to Illinoise. Thank you, Sufjan.

There was only one more memorable stop between the river and our new home, and it was the stop we had to make for Travis before he pooped in my car. While he was taking care of business Chris and I bought Gatorades and a box of Hostess chocolate wax donuts for the home stretch. They were delectable and they gave Chris some gas that festered in the cab of the U-Haul for the next hundred miles. No regrets.

Upon arrival we found our apartment’s A/C to be out of commission. We had no choice but to deal with it being hot and humid outside and inside. It was 87 to 89 degrees in the apartment and hotter outside. The U-Haul truck was parked a hundred yards away from the front door and we didn’t have a dolly. There were many back and forth trips. Kate stayed in the apartment and started unpacking things as we brought them in. She was soon overcome by the huge loads we were bringing in. Boxes started lining the walls of every room.

I was sweating profusely. Chris and I did a few chest bumps/slides that left us feeling, well, queer. We posed for a Mick sandwich picture too. When we got down to the end of the truck we were left with the two couches, the two biggest and heaviest pieces to move. By that point we had moved very heavy loads of boxes, dressers, tables, and desks. We were in desperate need of a break before we took on the big couch, a.k.a. Dirty Girl. A neighbor who had been on his porch almost the whole time we were moving stuff offered us some beers. We gladly obliged and I received the delivery of three ice cold Miller Lites. I took them to the nearly empty truck and we sat in there with our beers that were brewed in Milwaukee. Miller Lite is not typically a favorite of mine, but you can ask Travis and Chris because they will agree, that was one of the best beers we have ever had.

After the rest we took Dirty Girl those hundred yards, through the front door, and up the stairs. Mission accomplished. We only had to move things into place and unpack now. The next two days were intermittently filled with the aforementioned tasks, but we also had a lot of fun. We went out to dinner at the Rock Bottom Brewery. We went to a park by Lake Michigan. Travis and Chris leaped into the lake by Oak Creek. We got the A/C working. We shared stories, food, and a toilet. All four of us went bed shopping. Chris and Travis still haven’t narrowed their mattress down, but we have one. It arrived two days ago.

Kate cried when we said goodbye at the Milwaukee airport which, by the way, takes five minutes to get to. I didn’t cry, but it was an emotional goodbye. The move remains unforgettable and the two men we said goodbye to, made it that way. They were a huge help. Who knows? We may call upon you again. I hope you call upon us.

Connected

We got hooked up to the World Wide Web tonight.

I have a big update brewing in the depths, but not of my GI tract, but for now here is information on how to view pictures from the wedding. Go here. Click on “Online Ordering”. Enter “Perica” as the event code and you are in. The pictures are compressed so they won’t look awesome, but if you view them in a slideshow I think they look better.

Last time I checked there were 300 pictures uploaded so far. There should be more now.

Pictures of the honeymoon, the move, and the apartment are coming up soon.

Stoked

I’ll be married in a week. My sister got in today. My best man is coming into town and joining the family for dinner tonight. Groomsmen are getting in from New Zealand on Tuesday. Family and friends are flying in from all angles. My beautiful fiancée arrives on Monday. This is it. I am stoked.

I will write when all is set up in Milwaukee. As for now, I am going to take a little advice from a wise friend of mine, and go revel in it.

The Last Close

Tonight went by just like any other night at the Bucks. Jarrod, Mark, and I were done with closing duties early. We leaned against the counters and chatted. We turned drinks out with our eyes closed. We yelled Schwarzenegger quotes at the top of our lungs. (And I just spelled 'Schwarzenegger' correctly on the first try.) We ate pastries that were going to go in the trash either way. We shared observations about regulars. And, keeping with tradition, we clocked out early. The three of us will never be behind that counter together ever again. It was a sad night.

Although the Bucks hasn’t been the most exhilarating job ever, it has drawn people together that would have never known each other. I remember meeting Jarrod for the first time over a Donald Miller book he had out on the counter. I thought this guy is going to be cool. A well worn Miller book was a guarantee that we would at least have some good conversations. Never could I have imagined making such a good friend as Jarrod at the workplace, especially in a coffee shop. Our friendship now extends beyond the bar and into the lives and interests we have away from coffee. I am thankful for that and hopeful that the distance that will soon separate us doesn’t build a wall between us.

I wish I had a picture of us behind the bar. It would be nice to glance at it and be taken back to this stage in my life, which was extremely transitional and uneasy, but fun and a time I will never forget.

There is one thing that can instantly bring me back to my nine month tenure at the Bucks. What is it? It is The Shins’ Wincing the Night Away. Jarrod and I played this album so much at work that every note of every song brings back the green apron, the smell of coffee, the customers, the long talks with intervals of lattes and frappucinos, the breaks, the rushes, the pretending our voices were The Shins’ guitars, the pints at the Pumphouse after work, and the connection that I was so blessed to find in the vastness of this corporation. He will never know how he helped me get through some nights at work, some emotionally trying times in my life, and long days.

There are diamonds in the oddest of places.

This is for real...

Paul Potts sings like Pavarotti. Whether you hate American Idol and its relatives, you have to love this clip. Jaw dropping.

Kubica F1 Crash

This can drain a F1 race of its fun. Amazingly, only a light concussion and a broken leg were suffered.

The Siren's Eye

I have three shifts left behind the bar at store 6638. Since I was hired at the Hover store, three more stores have opened in Longmont. The company has hired over 67,000 people since I started work on September 12th. I work for a giant, green beast that is devouring street corners and strip malls in the night. You’ll go to bed one night and wake up with a green, Bucks’ awning across the street. The Siren (an ancient, female sea deity) will be staring out from behind the window with a smirk on her face and her long flowing black and white locks will be covering her naked breasts that, by the way, aren’t covered in the original logo. Just visit the first store. You’ll see.

This company gets a lot of press about being such a great one to work for. If you average more than 20 hours a week you get benefits. What are the benefits? You can enroll in an amazing health coverage program that will run you $33 a paycheck. You can also start a 401K. You are offered a stock plan. In this plan you determine what percent of your paycheck you want to devote to purchasing stock at a 15% discount. The Bucks’ stock isn’t falling, so you pretty much have an instant 15% growth on your investment. However, I don’t see the companies stock climbing that much over a short time unless their music label takes off, and by the sound of Paul McCartney's latest album, that won't be happening.

All the benefits are nice, aren't they? There are some holes though. In order to get a guaranteed 40 hour work week an employee needs to be an assistant store manager or a store manager. Having expressed a desire for as many hours as possible and open availability, I have hovered between 20 and 35 hours a week for 99% of my time there. This wouldn’t be that bad if the Bucks paid employees the way they could. I am talking at least a double digit money amount an hour. They don’t pay that though. They lose a lot of ground on the good employer ladder when it comes to base pay. And that is what really counts for me. I don’t feel like a valued employee there. The company can underestimate my importance to their local and regional success. That is the nature of the beast. Paying such detail to the part is unacceptable when it can be replaced with a brand new part for less.

A company’s treatment of their employees needs to come full circle. Good benefits, a full work week (if desired), loyalty to the employee, and good pay are major qualities of a good employer. The Bucks does a good job on one of these. That’s a 25%. Sorry, there’s no curve.

Lincoln vs. Polk

It has been a while since I have had some Vonnegut up on here. I bring it back today with one of my favorite passages from A Man Without A Country.

"What did Abraham Lincoln have to say about America’s imperialist wars, the ones that, on one noble pretext or another, aim to increase the natural resources and pools of tame labor available to the richest Americans who have the best political connections?

It is almost always a mistake to mention Abraham Lincoln. He always steals the show. I am about to quote him again.

More than a decade before his Gettysburg Address, back in 1848, when Lincoln was only a Congressman, he was heartbroken and humiliated by our war on Mexico, which had never attacked us. James Polk was the person Representative Lincoln had in mind when he said what he said. Abraham Lincoln said of Polk, his president, his armed forces’ commander-in-chief:

Trusting to escape a scrutiny, by fixing the public gaze upon the exceeding brightness of military glory—that attractive rainbow, that rises in showers of blood—that serpent’s eye, that charms to destroy—he plunged into war.

Holy shit! And I thought I was a writer!"

Vonnegut writes on and eventually comes to that much glorified battle at the Alamo.

“Remember the Alamo? With that war we were making California our own, and a lot of other people and properties, and doing it as though butchering Mexican soldiers who were only defending their homeland against invaders wasn’t murder. What other stuff besides California? Well, Texas, Utah, Nevada, Arizona, and parts of New Mexico, Colorado, and Wyoming.”

I loved these passages because they are so poignant to issues of today—a war in Iraq and illegal immigration—that they give me comfort in knowing a great man, Lincoln, thought it necessary to point out the President’s misjudgment. Now you cannot say much like that without being labeled un-American, disloyal, and treasonous by the commander-in-chief.

Lincoln would be pretty pissed off.

High Life

*What follows is a scatterbrained, quite awful recap of the days in Milwaukee.

Crowded airport. Very rainy. Kate and I sit by a window overlooking the Midway traffic zooming under the skywalk. A group of businessmen sat down next to us and all three of them got their laptops out. There screens meet in a neat little triangle in the middle of the table.

One of them tried to crack a joke as they all sat down. “It’s times like this that people always want to debrief. Well in my family we keep our briefs on.”

His friends didn’t laugh, but he did the only thing he could do and laughed at his own joke.

We got in Tuesday morning and it took a while to get a rental car. We wanted a Dodge Charger and we were told we would get something similar. The Chargers were gone. All that was left in the same price range were minivans and a Grand Marquis. We went with the Dodge Caravan…the old standby. I noticed that on the Thrifty keychain the color of our car was written out as being "Glod" and our car was a "Gearavan". For a moment that was funny to see and then incredibly depressing. The Chicago traffic was typical from the point we left Midway. It was stop and go all the way on Cicero until we got to Interstate 55. After that the traffic wasn’t horrendous for a while. We hoped to stop at Silo for lunch, but we stopped at an oasis to eat at Panda Express because we didn’t really have the time for Silo if we wanted to make our 1 pm appointment at Spring Brook.

The humidity was shocking at first, but even after three days I feel like I have gotten more used to it. Tuesday was definitely the hottest of the three days. It was around 88 degrees. Wednesday was slightly cooler and it has rained a lot today since we got down to Chicago.

The rest of Tuesday we spent some time familiarizing each other with Milwaukee’s layout. Milwaukee’s foliage is dense. There are thick forests up to the highway’s edge. I couldn't see past the walls of trees. Because the trees are so thick and tall you can’t see what is right over the hill. So when we stopped by Spring Brook I felt like it was out in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t until we drove north that I realized we were only 20 minutes away from downtown Milwaukee. So, the city is relatively compact, but it maintains the feeling of small town living…maybe. It is hard to describe.

We went to Mayfair (a mall) and picked up PF Chang’s for dinner with Lori, Cory, and Sam. We went to bed early that night because we had been up since 3 am Colorado time and we only had 4 hours of sleep to begin with.

We saw a lot of places on Wednesday. There is no point in listing all of them because they were all essentially boring. We got to ride on some golf carts. Vending machines come with some apartment complexes. Pink kitchen cabinets are ugly. One of the places had its own private entrance from the Grand Avenue Mall downtown. We will never live in the Juneau Village Towers. They had great views, but the building was rotting it was so old. It was ugly, plain, and small. Yankee Hill is for the richer and I am fine with that. If I were also a pharmacist Yankee Hill would be fun for a bit, but we would also need a little more space. Another time perhaps. I am very happy with the Spring Brook apartment. We have the rest of our lives to do some downtown living and I am confident we will have the opportunity. It is just a bit of a stretch at this point especially with parking spots at $115 a month.

I was impressed with downtown Milwaukee. It is pretty clean. It looks like there are a lot of fun things to do. It exceeded my expectations. Actually, I really didn’t know what to expect, but I just wanted everyone that told me Milwaukee was such a bore, ugly, and crappy to be wrong. They are wrong. Even after spending two days there I can tell there is plenty to do. We are only 70 miles from downtown Chicago too. If there is nothing to do in this area, there is just nothing to do.

Our apartment is gorgeous. I feel very blessed and fortunate to be able to live in such a place with Kate as a newly married couple. The place is brand new. The kitchen has granite countertops and the kitchen sink is mounted under the countertop. There are all new black appliances. There is a den, a big bathroom, balconies, good closet space, and a new washer and dryer. There is a pool, hot tub, and fitness center at the clubhouse. It is close to stuff and it has great access to the freeways. And most of all, I am excited to make a home there with Kate. I know we can do great things with the space. And I am ready to live there with Kate, to start filling that place with memories.

We hit up The Silo today. It was delicious. We also drove into downtown and down Lake Shore Drive. We got off at Michigan Avenue and gawked at some ghastly expensive apartment and condo towers. The sights were awesome, the traffic was not. We were in it for hours and finally made it here only to discover that our plane may be delayed due to poor weather in Denver. We accomplished a lot this week. I am proud of us for going out on our own, doing all this traveling, and making a big decision that we feel good about.

*I am quickly running out of names of Milwaukee beers for blog titles.

Old Milwaukee

I am back. Kate and I had a whirlwind trip out to Milwaukee. When we got in to DIA late Thursday night I felt like we had been gone a week. When we got back to Maxima she started like we had been gone a week.

After seeing around 15 floor plans at 8 different apartment complexes we made a decision Wednesday night. We searched around in the suburbs and downtown; to the west, southwest, and south of Milwaukee. There were positives to nearly every place we saw, but when we put everything on the table we definitely kept coming back to a nice one bedroom place south of downtown in Oak Creek. The building is new, beautiful, and it is reasonably priced for all that you get. St. Luke’s, where Kate will be starting July 9, is a 10-20 minute drive from Oak Creek. The airport is 5-10 minutes away, and downtown is just a few more minutes further north than airport. The lake is also a few minutes east.

The actual apartment is sort of overwhelming. It will be our first place as newlyweds, which is sort of weird. Kate is sort of all over her career, which is certainly not common when you are 23. We won’t be living in a dorm-like apartment. We won’t be really poor. Going out to Milwaukee and searching for places and signing a lease was all a bit of an eye opener for me. I am terribly excited to live in our new place, but there is a little bit of me that feels like we need to be living in a really dumpy apartment and we need to scrape by because that is what newlyweds do, right? Certainly, that is what we would be doing if Kate was working for the Bucks too, but she is not.

Whoa...

...even Chicago is counting down...

Milwaukee's Best

Kate and I fly to Chicago and drive north to Milwaukee tomorrow. Our flight leaves at 6:15 a.m. Yes, that means we have to leave here around 3:45 in the morning. We wanted to have a full day tomorrow to get in, rent a car, drive to Milwaukee, but on the way stop at The Silo. The Silo is home to some of the best Chicago-style pizza there is, that’s the thick stuff if you were wondering.

I am excited to see Milwaukee, to look at apartments, and figure out where Kate and I are going to live as a newly married couple. Awesome. It is so great to see her again too. We just spent the last three weeks apart. Kate was home packing, studying for the boards, planning, and spending time with family. I have been here working some for the Bucks, reuniting with friends back in town for the summer, preparing for the move, not writing as much as I would like to, and just absolutely loving my last few weeks in Longmont as a bachelor with friends that are family. I really miss all of you that aren't here yet.

I'll write again when we get back.

Gonzales and the Whale

I have heard a lot about the firing of eight U.S. Attorneys General in the news lately. I see Alberto Gonzales on the TV everyday. People are always asking him questions. He is always answering in a round about way that basically boils down to “I don’t know.” He really is an awful liar. If you think CNN is doing some wacky video editing then just watch C-SPAN. They give it to you straight. Just be sure to pick your jaw up off the floor after you see this guy try and defend himself. Anyway, I was wondering why I haven’t been hearing about the time Clinton fired all 93 attorneys general. Was Clinton’s decision to release all 93 as controversial, or is bringing this up supposed to be some sort of defense for what the current administration did? It turns out those 93 slots are politically appointed positions. I didn’t know this until I did a little research. It is also commonplace for the President to replace all or a lot of them when he begins his term. Republican or Democrat, it doesn’t matter. It’s your choice when you’re the Pres. These firings came during the middle of Bush’s second term. This is unheard of and I think this might be the first time it has ever happened. I didn’t want to attack or defend any of the actions made by the current administration regarding this controversy. I wanted to share with you what I learned about those positions and why Clinton’s removal of all 93 isn’t the same as a midterm firing of 8. Maybe you already knew that, but I just got it.

Anticipation for the 2008 election is at a high, and there are still 17 months to go. It seems a little early, but I can’t blame the media or others for being excited. The candidates are intriguing to many people. The number of people excited about replacing the current administration is growing by the day. True story. Sure, I think the expectations of any candidate are unrealistic—they aren’t going to turn things around on day one—but there is a lot of hope that one of them can get this country moving in the opposite direction it has been moving for the last six years. I’d say that’s worth getting excited about. Wouldn’t you?

Sometime while I was in London a whale swam up the River Thames. It was all over the news. People flocked to the edges of the river to get a glimpse of it. There were helicopters all over trying to get a good aerial shot of the thing. And then it died. And people got on with their lives. Now the same thing is happening in San Francisco. Whenever something like this happens I always start thinking about the circumstances that millions of humans face every minute/hour/day that are so much more tragic than two discombobulated whales in a river. Why aren’t we hearing about those stories? It is two stinking humpbacks, against millions of men, women, and children. It’s not even close. Sad, but true.

Pre-Finale Thought

After watching one season of American Idol I have to say that the judges love to remind contestants, the audience, and those at home, that “this is a singing competition.” The truth however, is that rarely, if ever, is the Idol a singing competition.

Sanjaya ousted at least 10 singers that were much better than him. For him, the Idol was a let’s-break-the-system competition. What was the competition for Melinda? It was a let’s-eliminate-the-best-singer-before-the-finale competition. And for Haley, well, it was a leg-off competition because as Simon alluded to several times on the show, that’s all she has.

The question for tonight is this: will American Idol be a singing competition? If it is, Jordin will win, and surprise, the judges will be right for once. If it is a popularity contest, and a true search for an idol-like phenomenon, Blake Lewis wins hands down. After all, that is why Blake is where he is tonight.

The Idol is up

I haven’t been blogging about the Idol recently, but I have still been watching. I think the week of the finale is a good time to bring the Idol back to my blog.

The Idol and I have had a one-season-long romance and it’s about over. In the beginning, as you know, I was captivated by the complete lack of talent and the way the judges casually dismissed contestants and shattered dreams of so many hopefuls. In the weeks to come, some of the poor singers were shaved off and the talent that was there was molded by the show into American Idol contestants, contestants that very rarely have an identifiable persona/style on the stage, but still, contestants that can be rooted for. I found Chris Sligh, Phil Stacey, Melinda Doolittle, and Blake Lewis to be entertaining, but not great singers all the time. After the midpoint of the season I was over American Idol. I don’t mean I stopped watching, but I began to see the Idol voting base start to shape the show to its tastes. For a while this was the explanation for Sanjaya’s long stint on the show. And last week this was the explanation for Melinda’s elimination. Melinda was, without a doubt, the best singer and all-around performer this year. So, the best singer doesn’t win. I don’t really like that. Also, I don’t enjoy getting hooked on any TV show. Even though I recorded most of the Idol nights, I still didn’t miss one show. That is a lot of TV. In years to come I might watch here and there, but I am not going to watch another full season. I loved seeing what all the hype was about. The Idol is just that though. The show has yet to produce an artist I enjoy listening to and I don’t think it ever will. What do I mean by that? Well, despite there being many good singers on the Idol through the years I have yet to hear one whose CD I will rush out and buy.

I just finished watching the performance finale and was a little disappointed by the judges anointing of Jordin Sparks as the Idol winner even though the votes aren’t in yet. They kept on saying “this is a singing competition” and Simon ended the show by saying to Jordin about her last performance “you mopped the floor with Blake.” Jordin has an incredible voice, but Blake will be a bigger star than her because he is the one contestant with his own style that doesn’t seem American Idol-made. With that said, I think Jordin will win tomorrow. The tween voting base is going to vote for one of their own—another reason I don’t like the Idol. There is no stopping the droves of teenage girls that would never let Jordin slip through the cracks, would eliminate Melinda, and torture us with Sanjaya every week. I confess though, at this point in my life, the teenage female is my least favorite chunk of humanity and this is a big reason I don’t want Jordin to win. For that reason alone, I think I am going to see her get all giddy and then sappy tomorrow when Seacrest says something like, “Blake, the votes are in. You are the American Idol runner-up.”

Up in flames

A piece of history went up in flames yesterday as the Cutty Sark burned in its dry dock in Greenwich, England. This ship was one of the fastest of its kind in the 19th century. It raced Thermopylae from China to England, in the vast tea trade. The Thermopylae won, but the Cutty Sark spent over 100 days of the journey on an improvised rudder and still managed to come in just one week behind the winner. Not too shabby.

The team that was restoring the ship is not going to abandon their task even though the fire gutted the thing. It was awesome to see it in person, but all the doorways were five feet tall. This would be a great opportunity for the restoration team to adjust the design numbers for inflation, vertical inflation that is.

Pee on the PS2

I don't really know what this article is supposed to be, but Guy sent it to me because it is about some UW students. This is the link.

On Fossil Fuels

Vonnegut says, “When you get here, even when I got here, the industrialized world was already hopelessly hooked on fossil fuels, and very soon now there won’t be any left. Cold turkey."

"Can I tell you the truth? I mean this isn’t the TV news is it? Here’s what I think the truth is: We are all addicts of fossil fuels in a state of denial. And like so many addicts about to face cold turkey, our leaders are now committing violent crimes to get what little is left of what we’re hooked on.”

This world is going to go cold turkey on fossil fuels someday. This is inevitable, but what really gets me is that it is going to happen before there are enough alternative fuel sources available. And you can’t call me a pessimist. The last reaches of oil are certainly going to be tapped before we have an answer to the gaping hole in our future. But what about Ethanol? Yeah, right. I heard a statistic on the news the other night that if all of this country’s corn was used for Ethanol production it would only account for 15% of the USA’s fossil fuel consumption.

I couldn’t agree more with Vonnegut about all of us being addicts of fossil fuels. I know we will run out. I know there isn’t any replacement for it, but I’ll get in my car tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. I am trying to use less fuel and energy where I can. I take it easy on the gas and stretch each tank to the maximum mileage and that’s not just because gas is $3.25. I could start riding my bike whenever I need to go somewhere in Longmont, but the layout of our society demands the use of fossil fuels. I’ll list a couple of examples. Big box stores are almost always built on the outskirts of town because this is the only space for these obese cinderblock eyesores. Who would have thought, but capitalism and globalization have boosted some economies of the world to unbelievable heights, while others have plummeted. In the end, however, capitalism and globalization will be the end of most economies of this world. Business is private jets. Business is premier class flights where each person has a recliner and a personal office at 40,000 feet. Business is China shipping goods to their next-door neighbor…the U.S. Business is consuming everything to get another zero in your account balance regardless of what is burnt on the way there. We are fine, as long as it isn’t our money being burned.

Leaders of the world know that fossil fuels are limited. Unfortunately, their solutions have been to go on a global shopping spree for the last vapors of the stuff. However, when you bring the battle to the part of the world where most oil comes from it just seems to make it more expensive to get that oil here. Where are we going to go when Iraq is dry?

Come On In

If you know your Rev. Jarry Falwell's social blunders, then you will really get a kick out of Bart Campolo's latest post to his blog. Perfect.

Postholy Indeed

I am no mountaineer. Sure, I have a few friends that have all the mountain gear you could ever want. These guys camp for REI sales. I just don’t think I’ll ever get around to doing that. Going into the mountains with some of these guys can be very intimidating actually. I feel inferior because I have to mooch off of the pros for shelter, cooking supplies, and filtered water.

I use my dad’s 1970 Slumberjack when I go into the mountains. I have my own pack now, but let’s not get carried away. I don’t have climbing boots, hiking poles, or any sort of map of the backcountry. I don’t even know if those hiking poles have a special name. Oh, I just found them at the Mountainsmith website. They are called trekking poles. That sounds too fancy considering it is a hiking stick that just happens to come from a machine instead of a tree. Now to my point: when I went up to the mountains today for my first solo hike, that would last more than an hour, I felt really out of place.

My Mountainsmith backpack and my Camelback were the only things I had today that could possibly give someone the idea I was a regular. If it wasn’t for a hike years ago, during which I found a Camelback behind a pine tree, I wouldn’t have one today. There was no fooling other hikers on the trail today though. I had shorts and a t-shirt on, which were fine because it was a warm day, but I wore some Nike Air Pegasus running shoes for a fairly steep and very snowy hike.

Okay, I don’t have the gear, but I can still blaze a trail. I was making good time for a while. I even passed a dude that heard me coming and made his way to the side of the trail for me. I sneaked a glance at his getup. He had the light weight pants that can turn into shorts if you want them to, a set of expensive hiking sticks, and waterproof booties over his hiking boots. He didn’t say much as I passed and said, “How’s it going?” However, he did glance down at my shoes and probably thought I was a loony after he saw they were Nikes.

The deep snow right before timberline really slowed me down. With every step I was prepared to sink a couple of feet. The trekking poles would have been really nice in this section. There are slim pickings at that altitude for hiking sticks, but I found one that was about 2.5 feet long. It was good timing too. A few steps after I picked that up I sunk deep into the snow, almost to my butt. I could move my left leg out, but my right leg would not budge. The snow molded to my foot and ankle so quickly I couldn’t pull my leg up at all. I admit it, panic was not too far away, but luckily one end of my gimpy hiking stick was shaped like a shovel. I shoveled myself out of that hole in a minute and made sure to bring that stick along. I had an attachment disorder to that thing for the rest of the trek through the deep stuff.

Once above timberline the path was a lot less snowy and a lot rockier. I was happy to leave the deep, sharp snow behind that had me contemplating turning around because of scraped shins and hands that were cold from stopping falls.

Pressing on was worth it. The view was humbling. Twin Sisters is almost 3,000 feet lower than some of the peaks I was facing, and yet it almost sent me packing, and I was only halfway done with the hike. I got the shivers looking across the valley to much larger and darker mountains, the ones that don’t care if you have your trekking poles or not. They take whoever they want, whenever they want.

I spent no more than twenty minutes on the top. I had lunch, snapped some pictures, and called Kate. I had three bars up there, and I had taken my phone for a watch, not realizing I would be able to ring Wyoming from the mountaintop. I kept it quick because clouds were forming over Longs Peak. I at least know enough to start heading down when you can hear far off thunder. That is why I was surprised to see hikers still coming up on my way down. These hikers had all the cool gear too. That could be why they were still hiking up. One of them was punching the keypad of his GPS unit when I stumbled by him in the deep snow. He said the trail was “pretty postholy”. I had seen this word the night before when I did some reading on the Twin Sisters hike. A hiker wrote “the path wasn’t too postholy.” What the hell is that? I thought. I made the connection when the GPS dude mentioned it. Postholy describes the snow I really didn’t like about this hike. Any step could have me sinking butt deep and scraping ice and rock on the way down.

The postholiness resided and I was able to run down sections of the trail. I stopped on occasion to take a sip from my Camelback spout. Doing this made me feel so cool, and the water was good too. And when I got to my car I peeled waterlogged shoes and socks off my feet. They were pale and shriveled like prunes; slipping them into my Reefs, well worn by flat ground, had never felt better.

6 Weeks....

I have to share with you some more Vonnegut.

Vonnegut’s lesson on creative writing is “do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you’ve been to college.”

How accurate. I think the only reason I have ever used a semicolon is because I wanted to use it, not because I had to. They really don’t do anything.

He continues…

And I realize some of you may be having trouble deciding whether I am kidding or not. So from now on I will tell you when I’m kidding. For instance, join the National Guard or the Marines and teach democracy. I’m kidding. We are about to be attacked by Al Qaeda. Wave flags if you have them. That always seems to scare them away. I’m kidding. If you really want to hurt your parents, and you don’t have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts. I’m not kidding.

Vonnegut says a lot more about war that is insanely true, but I have to go to bed. I am taking the G-Unit to the airport tomorrow morning. He is going to work in Pearlington, Mississippi for a week.

Kate's Graduation

My future wife got her doctorate last weekend and I was caught speechless watching her walk across the stage. I leaned forward in my seat and tried to keep the tears welling up in my eyes from dripping down my face. It was the first time that I watched Kate accomplish a big dream, one that she had been working on since I met her. When she walked across that stage I caught myself thinking that’s my wife, my sunrise smile, my lost dreams, and a part of me, and I have been proud of her from our beginning.

Letters to TIME

TIME didn’t publish my letter to the editor. I thought it wasn’t half bad, but then again, they didn’t print any letters that were too critical of their decision to glorify the Virginia Tech shooter with a photo spread. Anyway, I have copied two standout letters below because they address some of the things we should be thinking about in the wake of this shooting.

While the world can sympathize with the bereaved in the Virginia Tech killings, there seems little point in the American people getting too upset about them. Such killings are merely a form of blood tax that has to be paid for the imagined privilege of gun ownership. – Paul Eastaugh, Reading, England

I don’t know why more people can see this. It is as clear as day. There will always be nutters, but there doesn’t always need to be unlimited, accessible assault weapons.

We mourn the inexplicable, tragic murder of innocent people at Virginia Tech—the worst killing of its kind in the history of our country, we are told. Let’s also take just a moment to reflect on what every day must be like for the citizens of Iraq, where senseless killings of this magnitude have become a regular occurrence in the four years since we invaded their country. Every time we read a sidebar saying “32 killed by suicide bomber,” this is what it is like. – Paul Graff, Santa Monica, California

Let’s also take just a moment to reflect on what American families hear everyday about their loved ones dying in Iraq and Afghanistan. Put frankly, our government thinks the soldier is a dispensable commodity. I am starting to think that it will take until January 21, 2009, for our government to think otherwise about our bravest citizens and everyone in Iraq.

Meeting Vonnegut

I knew I was going to spend a lot of time driving through south central Wyoming over the weekend so I got a couple of books on CD, or as they are formally called, audiobooks. I got A Man Without A Country, Kurt Vonnegut’s last book, and Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid by Jimmy Carter.

There is plenty to be said about Carter’s book. It was amazing and I guess it is sort of considered controversial, but that is probably because Carter wisely dissects and points out where the Israeli government has failed over and over again in their policy decisions regarding Palestine. When people find out the suicide bomber isn’t the only bad guy things get controversial.

This post is about the other book though.

I listened to the audiobook twice. I bought the real book yesterday. There is a pull quote from the Los Angeles Times on the cover. “[This] may be as close as Vonnegut ever comes to a memoir.”

This book does read like a memoir at times, but it is a melting pot of Vonnegut’s thoughts on the state of this world, seasoned with his dry, witty humor. I surprised myself a few times when I was nodding in agreement with Vonnegut. And when I didn’t agree, it was a respectful disagreement. Listening to Vonnegut’s words on Karl Marx’s famous quote, “religion is the opium of the people,” was eye opening to me. As a follower of Jesus this quote always sort of bothered me, but Vonnegut says this about Marx, “He was simply noticing, and surely not condemning, the fact that religions could also be comforting to those in economic or social distress. It was a casual truism, not a dictum.” This observation is so simple, and yet in the past I got all too fired up with Marx whenever I came across that immortal line, so I was unable to digest it even enough to realize that religion does bring comfort to the masses in “economic and social distress.” Vonnegut continues with another neat little observation: When Marx wrote those words, by the way, we hadn’t even freed our slaves yet. Who do you imagine was more pleasing in the eyes of a merciful God back then, Karl Marx or the United States of America?” Vonnegut neatly disassembles the American dream once again.

I will post more thoughts and quotes on here within the next couple of weeks. There is just so much to think about. I leave you with a great section of this really small book.

For some reason, the most vocal Christians among us never mention the Beatitudes. But, often with tears in their eyes, they demand that the Ten Commandments be posted in public buildings. And of course that’s Moses, not Jesus. I haven’t heard one of them demand that the Sermon on the Mount, the Beatitudes, be posted anywhere.

Kate's Graduation: Thursday

There has been a lull because I have been in Wyoming since Thursday. I haven't been near a computer since then, but I have some material coming up soon. Let's just say it was an amazing long weekend in Wyoming. I decided this must be better coming in parts. Here is Thursday.

Driving into your college town after you graduated college is always a weird feeling. I did it again on Thursday because I was coming into town for Kate’s graduation. I feel eerily disconnected from a town and a people I was once a part of. I am never quite sure how I am going to be received. It’s almost as if I am in a different country when I go back. After all, it is Wyoming. But it all comes back within a few hours: the people, the attitude, the atmosphere, and the lingering friends hanging onto the threads of a college life.

Kate spent time with her pharmacy friends Thursday night. It was a girl’s night, so I decided to make it a guy’s night. Actually, I had no other choice. It was either call some friends that are still in school, or go back to the old apartment, where I was staying that night, and crash on a twin bed that was not that stable due to a lot of unsleeping. I rang a friend who used to swim and caught up with the Laramie crew at their new house. Three of the guys from this house were graduating on Saturday, all with degrees in mechanical engineering. Their unlocked bikes rested on the side of the house. The windows were open. The door was unlocked. There was a keg in the driveway and a beer pong table set up in the garage.

College was for me the first time that I had a lot of friends that I don’t have much in common with. For instance, these friends were my friends because I swam with them. We didn’t meet at FCA, church, work, or anywhere else. We met in the weight room. We sweat into Corbett pool together during lactate sets. We met in our suffering and it didn’t matter to us if that is all we had in common. What we had in common was often all that mattered and in that most indescribable way, and yet in one of the most touching ways, we share this bond that can instantly be reignited by one another’s quick entrance into our lives again. So it was on Thursday night when I joined up with four old teammates for a trip to the bars. It was the good ole’ bachelor days of college again, at least my version of them, and it was a grand time. We caught up, befriended strangers, and threw some back at 3rd Street, Lovejoy’s, and The Buckhorn. When it was time to go home the five of us and a few others got a ride in the back of a pickup truck back home. I still had farther to go, so I hopped on a bike and rode my way back to Palmer Drive #106. The time was 2:40am when I went to sleep, 21 hours after I woke up for work that morning.

Write This Minute

I came home from work tonight tired, exhausted, and sick of the Bucks. I planned on doing some writing, but I had seven emails tonight, all from friends. It was extremely enjoyable to read them all. We are blessed to have such easy communication. After I was done reading all of those I responded to some and then went down the blog list—another great time.

Chris had a great blog on being alone in God’s presence in the hard to reach heights of New Zealand.

And I checked Collin’s blog. He doesn’t blog. No surprise really, but I check it.

I checked Erik’s blog, but nothing new. Although, I do know something is coming soon. I can feel it.

Nothing new at Becca’s blog, that is if you check it everyday like I do. I love reading about what she and many others are doing in Mississippi.

I wasn’t surprised to see Mick write about being so caught up in all of life’s demands. I am really feeling the weight of those demands with being weeks out from a wedding, a move, and big changes. I am taking care of those things, but writing has really taken a hit from it all. I hope to change that once we get settled in Milwaukee.

Rachel and her Memphis teammates are going to have some NCAA Regional golf action in St. George, Utah. Congrats.

And Mr. Boeke has an extended post in response to a comment on the second Quarter Life blog. Well done.

I didn’t write tonight, but you all wrote to me. And that is doing something.