Est. 1984
Thinking
The Incredible Husk
Jul 19th
The weather has been cool lately, too cool for July, but the sweet fragrance of growing corn that hangs in the air over Illinois is unique to the few weeks that mark the beginning of the end for Summer.
I hadn’t noticed the smell until today, when April and I were out for a motorbike ride. It’s an nice smell, but an unpleasant reminder that the Summer months are slipping through your fingers. It’s absurd to think that July is 2/3 spent, and downright frightening that Ape and I will be leaving in a week for Germany.
When I think about where times goes, I have to turn to my photos. They remind of the trips I took, the warm evenings I spent in the garden, and the occasional adventure. Without them, I’d probably conclude that I really spent the whole summer working and mowing the yard.
What strikes me about Summertime passing in a blur is that I can remember how lengthy Summer days felt when I was younger. My feeling at the time was that there wasn’t much to do, besides ride bikes, play games, or circumnavigate Lake Williamsville (a 25 minute endeavor). Maybe there was a lot to do and I never noticed. Now, there’s more stuff to do than time to do it.
Defining the stuff that sucks up time isn’t easy. My goal for now is to identify which activities among the stuff are really just overhead associated with my lifestyle – for example, washing the motorcycle, mowing the yard, etc. These things are so mundane and common to everyone in my social circle that they’ve become a sort of doctrine, or an agreement that I have with myself. Is it something that can be defined/reduced/sacked? Is that equivalent of leading a simple existence? And at what point does simplicity complicate life? For instance, April and I are considering getting rid of a car. It will reduce the doctrinal complexity and financial burden of our lives, but it also has the potential to make transportation more difficult for us.
These are the things I hope to think more about- the question of owning 1 or 2 cars has taught me more about my choices than everything I’ve learned about fuel economy and curtain airbags.
Related items
Summertime, and the kitties are lazy
Jun 30th
The heat has finally broken, and life can once again flourish in Illinois. To make the most of this opportunity, Ape and I have been on the motorcycle as often as we can lately. After the first couple of weeks, I’m still convinced that my new motorcycle is perfect. We also managed a trip to Six Flags with a few good friends, the result of which was my realization that I’m to old to tolerate the neck-snapping rides. Otherwise, it’s pretty much exactly like I remember- Thunder River is still the best ride, followed closely by the Mine Train.
Tomorrow marks my 1-year anniversary working at the Lewis & Clark Library System. I’m pretty happy with my accomplishments there so far, but how has my life otherwise changed? It’s been a hell of a ride, this last year- the highs, the lows, the creamy middles. Mostly, I feel like I don’t have enough time to realize my potential- something I imagine is common to lots of people. When I think about it, I can’t quite put my finger on where all the time goes. I know that my new job (not so new now) meant an additional 5 hours a week spent at work (plus the many hours of after-hours tinkering), but I think the real trick is that I’m whipped when I get home from work, which leads to me wasting time watching TV or just wandering around the yard (not a waste of time, but not particularly useful either). In any case, after being at work for 9 hours, the creative currents of my mind are just dusty gulches.
I’m learning that intellectual work can be as exhausting as physical labor, and like all office jockeys, I relish the occasional opportunity to work with my hands. Normally I’ve got some ill-conceived home-improvement project to fill the hours, but there haven’t been any of those lately, either.
Maybe that’s why I’m enjoying my new bike so much- it gets me out of my bubble, and affords me time to think. Against the backdrop of the rolling Illinois countryside, embraced by brisk wind and sunshine, thoughts take shape on their own. It’s a refreshing change from me walking around the yard, trying vainly to figure out what to do with myself.
Related items
The State of Quebecker
Jun 15th
What a state it is! I’ve been busy relaxing and enjoying the moments of nice weather that puncuate the weeks of rain we’ve had in Illinois. The days might be warmer, but the nights are clear and cool, which makes for first-rate viewing of the moon and stars.
Even work has been much more relaxing lately- I finished the big move from a homegrown cms-ish site that was lacking in several areas over to WordPress, my most favoritest blog platform/CMS. With that behind, I get to work on a dozen other projects that have been hamstrung while I wiled away hours moving static and dynamic posts from one database to another.
What’s even more exciting than that is my new motorcycle, the Honda 919. She’s a worthy successor to my CRF230, although it’s like I’m learning how to ride all over again- the two machines couldln’t be more different from each other (unless one of them had 3 wheels, and I’m not old enough for that). Anyway, it’s pretty sweet.
I’ll put up some pictures next time….Until then, look for me on a red Honda with rain gear from head to toe.
Related items
Let the Summer games commence!
May 17th
Yep, Spring is officially over. Those sticklers that say Summer doesn’t start until June 21 are full of crap- when I have to start mowing every two days, Summer in is the hizzy. Speaking of which, mowing is not the chore it once was around here. You might recall my adherence to the mowers of simpler times, and true to my word, I do not use a gas-powered mower. Instead, I bought a Craftsman battery-powered mower, which dispatches weed and grass with vigor.
Less time mowing means more time gardening, which is one of the most civilized things I do. Growing and caring for plants, observing which species do well in what conditions, and enjoying the results is an experience unparalleled in daily life. Currently, the star of the show is my rose bush. It was a gift from my folks after we finished the patio, and in two years it has grown enormous, with a fragrance that lifts my heart whenever I walk by. It also stabs me mercilessly when I try to trim off old buds.
Other than that, the regular flowers and vegetables will be appearing this year. I’m gonna grow hops, as well, but they won’t be planted until Fall.
Roses creeping up on April from behind
Related items
Dead and Dreaming
Mar 29th
The news came on Thursday that my Great-Grandma had died. I’d heard that she believed there wasn’t much time left to live, and it turns out she was right.
What a blessing it must be, to be so prepared to die. If I thought I were going to die soon, the weight of everything I’d left undone would be crushing. She was well into her 90′s, so maybe she felt there wasn’t much left to be done with her life. Maybe it’s worse than I imagine- knowing that the great decisions of life all lay behind, rather than ahead. It would be easy to lose one’s sense of purpose (which has nothing to do with age, it can happen to anyone). Of course, it all depends on your perspective- no matter how aged they become, some folks stay purpose-driven to their last day.
I find it interesting that so many people my age lose their sense of purpose. After obtaining a diploma in whatever field was supposed to get you a good job, they can’t find work. Maybe that’s why they so many of them get married- two people can give each other a sense of purpose, but I doubt the sustainability of such an arrangement. There has to be more to a relationship than two rudderless people.
For my own part, I can’t articulate what my purpose is just yet. There even be purposes; why limit myself to one thing?In any case, my family has gotten just a bit smaller. It’s difficult to grasp the loss of someone you haven’t seen for a long time- if I may make a blunt analogy, it’s like a tree losing a limb. There’s only a dim awareness that something is different, and looking at the extant branches is proof that one is missing.
There was a death very close to my home this weekend, too.
A brother and sister were playing on an old conrete aquaduct a few hundred yards from my house. I’d walked by the site several times; it’s on a small lane that is amazingly well-hidden within a developed city. On Friday, the aquaduct collapsed, killed the sister and trapped the brother. April and I were working in the yard when we heard the sirens go by, which is not at all uncommon since there’s a firestation about a half-mile from our house. The sign that something was really wrong came roaring over the tops of the trees; a medical helicopter flew so close over our heads I could feel the force of the blades.
It touched down across the street in the schoolyard, as more police and firemen arrived. I had no idea what had happened, but a crowd was gathering to watch the helicopter, and folks were exchanging rumors. Evidently, there was a boy trapped somewhere. A few minutes later, news helicopters appeared in the sky like giant locusts, and our neighbor was watching their live broadcast. It was announced that a boy had been trapped beneath fallen concrete, and was being carefully extracted.
Awhile later, we watched the medical helicopter lift off, the boy safely inside. After observing the relative calm with which they transported and attended the stretcher, I suspected the boy was safe. Elated by a successful rescue, April and I decided to take a ride that evening, so we set off into the cool evening air for a trip around the city.
On the way home, we noticed that there was still a news helicopter hovering over the site of the accident, about 2 hours after we’d seen the boy safely lifted away. Totally non-plused, we rode by the aquaduct, which was still teeming with rescue and police officers.
At home, we checked the news for updates. Evidently, the boy had sister who was with him during the collapse- she was already dead when the rescuers arrived.
What a horrible realization it was. Earlier, we were happy that the boy was safely rescued, and assumed that disaster had been averted. Now, we still feel shock. We’d walked by the aquaduct so many times, never giving it a thought. Similarly, there are always kids outside playing in our neighborhood. This is the way the world ought to be.
The aquaduct has since been completely destroyed, the damage done to the family immeasurable, and a cloud of malaise hangs over our neighborhood. It’s not possible to completely grasp a tragedy like this, but the effects are usually much more salient.
What concerns me most is that parents will be even more restrictive with their kids. Accidents make us consider what we would do if we were the victim, and I’m certain many parents are full of chagrin thinking about what could happen to their children.
Not being parent, I have a limited understanding of their thoughts. As a human, I will say this much: I think a worse fate than death is a life of constant protection and insulation. In this case, the child was playing outdoors with her sibling, not watching TV, playing video games, snacking, or any of the myriad things kids are accused of doing too much. These were two kids enjoying life.
Related items
Hoist yourself by your neighbour’s bootstraps
Jan 22nd
After a weekend of back-breaking labor (I think moving a washing machine up a narrow staircase is akin to moving the last giant stone to the top of the pyramid), it was time to relax and watch a movie. Like any movie-loving patriot, I have some DVD’s on the shelf that remain unopened and unwatched for many years, and on that particular night, my hand found its way to Memoirs of a Geisha, which Ape also hadn’t seen.
It’s a well-presented movie, with visual appeal, lascivious geishas and even a (world) war! The only problem: you often can’t tell whether the characters are speaking in English or Japanese (Godzilla is the only Japanese word I know). What does one call English heavily inflected with Asian speech? It isn’t a drawl, nor a lilt, nor a brogue; is there some other nonsense-word that deals with these sounds?
Aural discomfort aside, Memoirs rekindled my thoughts on social mobility.
–The story (if you’re not already familiar with it) recounts the life of a country girl, sold to a quasi-boarding school for girls (not the same concept, but similarly executed). If the girls are deemed worthy, they are sent to geisha school. If not, they pretty much end up a servants to the geisha. The protagonist is accepted into geisha school, and has a pretty miserable life for awhile. Then she grabs the bull by the horns (so to speak) and becomes the most sought after women in the country. Shortly thereafter she realizes that geisha were never meant to pursue their own goals; rather they live to entertain other (presumably more successful) persons. Plus, all of the other geisha, especially the ones she trusts, end up trying to deceive/screw/kill each other.
Are geisha on a shorter leash than we are? Would our own memoirs be any different? Probably only insofar as we don’t wear crazy make-up and dresses (generally). People are still yoked to their careers, still trying to screw each other over, still relying on the few whose motivations are selfless to make their lives worthwhile. The geisha are a peculiar lot, but I don’t think these concepts belong to any single time or place; they’re rather endemic to humanity, arising in every society, sub-culture, and group, right down to the very last soul. It’s the outward manifestation of our inner struggle against the most primitive urges: eat, poop, and dominate.
On the bright side, there is (and probably always was) a huge gray/black market to exploit, for those who don’t fancy a traditional 9-5 yoking. I could probably make serious coin smuggling arms/hooch/maple syrup out of Canada, but would it be any more satisfying than the liberry?
It is tempting to think that, with time, we gain more freedom as individuals. There are lots of examples (both true and made-up) of people in this country climbing the ladder of success, starting from their low-born beginnings as a cockney boot-black and then becoming 16th president of the United States. Indeed, the protagonist geisha was once sentenced to become a slave, and against all odds, became not just any geisha, but the geisha.
Quotable Axiom: The only barriers we can’t overcome are those we set for ourselves.
