Ringing in the New Year

I'm in beautiful Madison with the beautiful crowd of folks. We have seen the sights in town, enjoyed some culture at the art museum, and reconnected like never before...

Last night we had some drinks at a bar called Dexters down the street. At some point, we started calling old college friends with a joke that we'd play back then. With a thick Maine accent, we'd pretend to be the driver from a local pizza place called the Waterville House of Pizza (which they and everyone else called "WHOP"). We'd say, "Hello, this is ya WHOP driva out hea wit ya chicken pahm... Ah'm fuckin' freezin' out hea."

It still makes us laugh.

Save the World

Sam was playing a jumping game in the basement with me. He said, "If I win, the prize is a kiss."

After thinking for a minute, he added, "AND all of the weapons in the whole entire world."

Dentally Speaking

I went to the dentist yesterday and all was clean and good; the hygienist was impressed with my lack of plaque.

This dental hygienist (whom I have known for as long as I can remember) asked me about Outward Bound and Asheville and said that her son went on a NOLS course and now runs the climbing gym around here. I didn't even know about that gym since I'd only gone to a different one up here a few years ago.

She was chatty about him and then said I should go up there and ask for him. I said that depending on time I'd see if I could get up there. She wrote down his cell phone number in case I wanted to call, too. Nice lady, but could you really imagine me calling some random guy to say, "Yeah, your mom said I should call."

She took her x-rays and had me spit into the little sink after scrubbing on that gross toothpaste stuff on my teeth. I rested in the chair and looked at the drawings that kids and their parents made... I guess they are supposed to comfort patients whilst they chill out in the little room with fake wood paneling and an accordion door.

In addition to a rendition of "Dancing with the Stars" some lovely fall scenes and this scary guy with big muscles, there was one tucked in the corner. Next to a picture of a smile, it boldly exclaimed, "EVERYONE HATES THE DENTIST." I laughed and had to take out the spit sucker because it was just too much.

When the dentist arrived, I waited for his classic line (and almost the reason I keep going back to him), "How are you doing?.... Dentally speaking." He is not joking.

Finally, after my goody bag of toothpaste, toothbrush, and floss, I went to the receptionist's desk and presented her with my mom's check. The receptionist asked if I wanted another appointment for next year.

I said I didn't have my calendar with me.

She said, "Well have your mom call..." She knows my personal assistant will take care of me. Moms take care of their little 28 year olds.

December to December

In your hands lies the future of your world and the fulfillment of the best qualities of your own spirit.

Robert F. Kennedy

I am not one for new year's resolutions, but I'm thinking about planning my year as if it were my last.

Planning each day as if it were my last... what would I do? How would I be? How would I spend time? What would I share? What and whom would I care about? How would I show it? Would I go away or stay here? What scenarios would I make happen?

I wonder what others would do with just a year to live and then I wonder what's keeping us from living that way...

Apt

The taasc students were in the library picking out books to read at a local nursing home.

Austin said, "Ooh, we shouldn't get this one."

I looked up and saw him holding Grandma's in the Stars Now, a book about the protagonist's grandma going to heaven.

Book Notes

I write personal notes in some books.

While it might be obvious to take notes in school books (underlining equations or scribbling thoughts about the changing voices in Light in August or something) I have a habit of writing some journal-like notes in books that I'm reading. Most of the time it's to remember a scene when I was reading a book.

For instance, in One Hundred Years of Solitude, I wrote, "In La Vela de Coro. These grandmothers in their colonial house remind me of this family..."

I documented a first date in a book of poems.

In a book called Earth Poems, which was a gift that I carry with me everywhere, I wrote about a lesson I learned while working for a wilderness therapy program. I wrote it below a poem by Harriet Kofalk, which begins,

"Awakening in a moment of peace
I give thanks to the source of all peace..."

Somewhere in the middle: "my feet touch the grass still wet with dew and I give thanks..."

The last stanza: "you can see forever
when the vision is clear
in this moment
each moment
I give thanks."


I was impatient on that trip for some reason and wanted to remember it.

I wrote, "March 10th, Wednesday. New Beginnings. Selflessness. Letting things flow and not forcing... Lime Creek. Hans, Katie, Young White Dolphin and Perseus Rising."
.....
It is a good memory to put next to that poem. It makes me laugh that we gave those boys those trail names. Perseus Rising I thought was a pretty awesome name, actually, given to a stubborn but strong boy. Young White Dolphin got his name because he was so pale, apathetic, innocent and thin... he made me think of the definition of wan. He was a sweet boy, though, so we wanted a happy animal. My co-instructor, Hans, had a great sense of humor, so we decided to name him Young White Dolphin... the Dolphin of the Desert for short.
....

What notes would I write in A Year to Live to remember today?

House

After swimming on Sunday, the dentist and the boys brought me home. B, the littlest, asked his dad, "Why does Katie live in an abandoned house?" Really, it's not that bad...

Bragging Rights

Al helped me write this blog post back on November 17th and I haven't posted it yet. I could easily add in bragging rights for spending time in Mississippi and Asheville; however, this is a purely Hueco Tanks Bragging Rights List. Here goes:

Being Here

"Spelunking" to see cave art

(These scratchings below were done by "stagecoach taggers"… when the stagecoach came through here, we saw that someone named Mary got together with a certain James Jolley in 1887 in a tucked away hole... hmm, racy.)

Many laughs per hour.

Climbing steep stuff

Pulling off the coolest scab ever (we had a really gross description of it, which I'll share for those interested)… flaps on fingers… finding the silver lining in topical maladies. I don't have photos of this one...

Eating incredible Santa Barbara organics everyday. Avocados, Japanese tomatoes (gram for gram the best food ever), garlic everything else...

Surviving a Texas-sized wind storm in my tent

Dance parties with the best 2 year old dancer (and her mama, who is not only cool, but also a great dancer, too...)

Not clocking in.. tan maintenance

Games: Boggle (inventing new words such as vell and ditwit) and Rock Ranch Rummy

The best birthday party ever…(poor Tessa was upset with the piñata activity)

Fixing the piñata. The Rock Ranch manager told Tess, “It’s okay baby, tape is cheap”

AND THE BIGGEST BRAGGING RIGHTS EVER!!! I, Katherine Dunn, became the object of affection of a bonafide male porn star.

Yes, Al found out about this crush's career while looking for climbing videos on his computer. Our porn friend said, "You want to see some of my work?" And the thumbnails were enough.

We learned much about Ron Jeremy's depression; several erectile disfunction drugs ("Oh, that one will be full on and then nothing... it doesn't last"); and other ins and outs of the industry (pun intended).

This MPS knows some famous starlets, and gave us advice about writing and selling porn scripts for big money. I'll finally use my English degree!

He asked Al how to "score" me; I was glad when Al convinced him that it wouldn't be a good idea to visit my tent. We had several jokes about porn, especially when walking past large sausages in Target, but I have a real respect for this guy who is more than his big profession. On the night of the great birthday party, he poured out his story to us.

Hearing about his life gave me pause to even brag that he had a crush on me. I hope that I have respected him in this blog while still relishing in the novelty of this encounter.

This is me and the porn star. Just kidding. I didn't want to publish a photo of him (I think he's shy), so this is a photo of Al and me posing as porn stars.

Except that we have clothes on.

And that we look more like teenagers in an afterschool club trying to be tough. Or something completely different? I think that even Mary and James Jolley would laugh at this attempt to look sexy.

I'm glad to be home, but really think there was powerful energy in that pocket of desert.

montage for now.

Here is the holiday parade.

Yes, that is a fake campfire.

Yes, those are kayaks (and climbers hanging off the back, which you can't see).

Yes, that is a little caver inside of the float. Yes, we were so excited. Okay, I was so excited.

Here are a few from Hueco Tanks.

Tessa has the best style in the house.

Thanks for giving. On the swing with my favorite P.

With my favorite P's Momma. Wow. She is so wonderful.

It's good to play spades with the Momma on your side. We had creative ways of passing information. How much to bid? Let's just sing, "Three fat turkeys are we... we spent all night in a tree..."

Back now. Back to work and to a quiet house. Much reflection and little sleep.

December 3

So much between November 16th and December 3rd.

It is appropriate that Mrs. R urged me to change my profile quote from "I am trying to pay attention" to "I am paying attention."

In a daze of the fullness of life lately.

For now, I am focusing on advent and thinking, "Hush, little heart."

Tiny Huecos of Information

Still in the desert.

Climbing stronger than earlier (although today was a weak attempt).

Meeting fantastic people from all over the place and with interesting "day jobs." (More on that soon.) For now, here are three photos:

Inside my tent.

My tent with Lynn Hill's Airstream and some hills behind.

Noey and Al with some perfect avocados from Santa Barbara. See the pockets behind them in the rock? Those are huecos.

More climbing photos to come. Many stories from this amazing place.

Hueco.

Right now I'm sitting in Hueco Tanks State Park with my little 2 year old friend, Tessa. She's sleeping in a running stroller and I'm sitting in the windy park. I'm looking up at the rock bands and out at the prickly pear cactus and creosote.

I have been humbled on the boulders out here, and think that I should take my friend Jeep's advice to: "Get in really good shape and drag your fingertips across pavement to get ready for climbing in Hueco." It was fun to check a few out this morning, and I definitely want to get back on some problems that I attempted while putting my ego on hold next to Tessa's strong parents.

Tessa is very cute. She empathizes about my cut hand, and recounts for everyone how I fell running in North Carolina. She loves On the Road Again by Willie Nelson, which is ironic since she has been to so many climbing sites in her 2 and a half years. She loves the puppies at the ranch, Hueco and Boulder.

We had to watch an orientation video, about which Tessa said, "Oh, we watch the movie again!" This park is pretty cool with rock art and formations called huecos, which remind me of those little basins on cave floors. Because of the way the rocks formed here, water collects in these bowls of hollowed-out places and there are many birds, rabbits, snakes, javelina, and insects around.

I'm sleeping in Roomie's tent in the campground outside of the Hueco Rock Lodge. Nights are cold with the open black-blue sky and full moon. It's amazing to see the silhouettes of the mountains in the distance from the scrubby dirt on which I sleep. I have been journaling and got to practice yoga in the quiet stillness this morning.

Exploration

I am going to Texas to spend time with friends, climb, and learn a little. Although I am excited about this trip, I have a bit of homebody longing to stay around Asheville. (My roommate talking about baking cookies is not helping my desire to get in the car...) I know that part of it is that feeling I get even when going out on Outward Bound trips; it's a dread of the unknown. As Wendell Berry put it in The One-Inch Journey:

Always in the big woods when you leave familiar ground and step off alone into a
new place there will be, along with the feelings of curiosity and excitement, a
little nagging of dread. It is the ancient fear of the Unknown, and it is your
first bond with the wilderness you are going into. What you are doing is
exploring. You are undertaking the first experience, not of the place, but of
yourself in that place. It is an experience of our essential loneliness; for
nobody can discover the world for anybody else. It is only after we have
discovered it for ourselves that it becomes a common ground and a common bond,
and we cease to be alone.

Part of it is excitement about life here in Asheville right now. I know that with every transition and adventure, I feel hesitant at first. Then, once I am out and back, I feel they add more colors and textures to my world.

Bright Zephyr

Despite going on a TAASC trip this weekend and then leaving on Monday afternoon for a bit of a climbing trip, I have not been hunkering down to a computer this week.

This is not to say that I haven't been doing work (or at least that the work won't be done by the time I leave); however, life has been much more full and roundly bright this week. The leaves really are the most spectacular yellows, reds, and oranges, and against the warm blue sky they look almost fake. These primary and secondary colors could be on superhero uniforms, if they wanted.

At one point today, a gust blew small yellow leaves in a flurry as if they were canaries that flew like bats. Or a yellow ticker-tape parade. Or a flutter of leaves.

Later, I saw a similar image when my young running buddy threw a handful of maple seeds and dried pine needles into the air. Two ticker-tape parades in one day!

Taking a break from running, we took a big step up onto a large fallen tree, and walked its spine towards the exposed root ball and empty hole. We sat for a while and talked about tree identification. I know a few basic ones (and most of them by leaves instead of bark), but I had to smile when he asked the same question that I was going to ask him: "Hey, what's your favorite tree?" It was as if nature took a break from its scientific day job and became our close friend or something for which we could have a preference.

I said aspens and maples. He said maples and oaks, but that if he lived in Canada, it would definitely be maples because of their maple syrup.

Life has been filling me up.

Celebration

While parties streamed through the streets on Tuesday night with the Star Spangled Banner and tears of joy and surprise; while jaded feelings faded for a moment; and while the words "liberty and justice for all" having more meaning for some, I drove home.

Orion's Belt and the Pleiades were clear above. The road was dark and empty. I turned on the radio and heard Barack Obama's speech. It made me take a deep breath and have a quiet celebration of my own.

November 3rd

It's this girl's birthday. I love that she is both confident as well as discerning. It takes her a minute to say hello, and then she impresses with trapeze flips, dancing and swimming skills, and love of reading.

Birthday Haiku:

Your giggling laugh

Diving deep to find batons

Curiosity

Green

Like other themes, October's "what is important to you?" will continue to resonate like a vibration that remains after the ring of a bell. Before leaving it for November's theme, though, I'd like to meditate on it one more time on this blog.

The majority are too personal to blast on a blog entry, but I was thinking about some small joys that I have seen or heard about within the past week. They are nuanced and beautiful:




The Japanese maple in my parents' front yard.
The maples that are fully yellow and red
Seeing a mountain you will run up-- far in the distance

This wedding with these people and our friends

Conversations that last longer than anticipated

Gary Snyder's poetry

Chopping cilantro and watching salsa canning at the neighbors' house.

Running with no other plans today

And noticing people's embraces after not seeing each other for many months.

And here's a brief story:

Today I went to Jubilee and moved to the row behind so that a couple could sit together. My new seat was next to a quiet, pudgy 11 or 12 year boy who had a skateboard in front of him. He breathed loudly through his nose and glanced over at me a couple of times; I didn't look at him, though. At one point in the service, we all hold hands. I was surprised that his hand was warm and rough, and that he held mine firmly, but not too tight. He held his mother's hand on the other side. At the end of that portion, we all give a squeeze and let go. He put his head on his mother's shoulder and she stroked his hair.

I love that entire interaction.

Autumn Visit

So I want to keep the dialogue going about my last post because I think it's important, and I want to chat more with the new englander about his perspective on it.

However, I have been sneezing for the past 12 hours for some reason... and I want to take time to write a good, solid posts for such a serious topic. In the meantime, here are some photos from last weekend when PaulG came to visit.

These are from Bent Creek and the top of Black Balsam. I am such a fan of the self-portrait technique. Who needs help getting pictures taken if you have you have the one arm photo shot? You can't even tell in that photo on the left... you'd think that it was taken off guard, but it's just great acting and great photography skills. Really.

The Race and Race

Some Western Carolina University students "found" a dead bear cub and "as a prank" decided to wrap it up in Obama campaign signs and leave it in the middle of campus.

The incident was publicized in international newspapers. The news that it was "just a prank... they were just trying to not get blood in the truck bed" came out yesterday.

So what of it? To begin, both the dead bear and the symbolic violence that we all immediately associated with the crime are disgusting. What might have been a prank has heavy undertones in a climate in which people are yelling, "Kill Barack" at McCain rallies and in which racism has churned around to the surface of political discourse.

This postsecret postcard reads "It's only a matter of time."

Someone responded, "This is a fear that I have. I hope that you were also expressing a fear and not a threat." I feel the same way, and it makes me angry that I should worry about Barack Obama's safety from hatred and harm.

Roomie and I were talking about the WCU "prank" this morning, and I said, "Why do people have to kill all the good ones? I mean, Martin Luther King Jr, Jesus, John F. Kennedy..."

I can only speculate that fear and ignorance drive this hatred... and it's hard not to react to racist comments, violence, and ignorance with fear and anger. How ironic. So what to do? How to educate? The Unity Project all over the place? Hmm.

I heard this rebroadcast of an interview of J.L. Chestnut on Fresh Air last week. He was the first African American attorney in Selma, Alabama and represented many Civil Rights protesters in the 1960s. He made several points that I have been thinking about a lot lately. (This interview, which took place on October 3, 2008 is only 19 minutes long and excellent. I encourage you to listen as he speaks so well about this time in history.)

Here are the points that have been buzzing in my mind:

After watching police beat men, women, and children during a march from Selma to Montgomery (on what was named Bloody Sunday on March 7th, 1965), he described how horrible it was and said it was one of the lowest days of his life. On that day, he lost faith in America and in white people.

He then said, "Two days later I had to make a new assessment because white people and black people from all over this nation saw this on television and were upset with what they saw. It's easy to send a check down from New York City and say, 'I'm with you.' It's something all together different to come down and lock hands with a black person and say, 'I'm ready to go to jail. I'm ready to die if necessary.' He said that as he looked around at the hundreds of people, "My faith in this nation and my faith in the human race was restored."

Mr. Chestnut owned a handgun which Martin Luther King Jr asked him to give up. When King told him that people were going to come and try to kill all of them, Chestnut said he knew, but, "If they come and kill me, I'm taking a few down with me."

On the night that MLK Jr was assassinated, Chestnut gave up his gun. He said, "My carrying a weapon certainly didn't save Martin. It didn't save Jimmy Lee Jackson. I watched John Louis stare down whole regiment of State Troopers and he didn't have a weapon... the changes that had occurred didn't come at the end of any gun. So giving it up was a tribute to my friend who had given his life in Memphis."

He then spoke about how when the Voting Rights Act passed in Selma, within six weeks they went from having 200 registered voters to 9,000. It changed everything-- people who never had a voice in their government now became important players, white politicians had to appeal to a new group of voters and some black people considered running for office themselves, juries were racially balanced. "Where there was hopelessness now there was hope... where I had thought we could only make minor adjustments, I saw now that we could do much more.... America began to develop some meaning for me."


"Where there was hopelessness now there was hope."

Vote.
Be an ally.

Do not fear.

Have courage.

Spying on the Neighbors.

When I was in New Jersey last time I was embarrassed by a Dictaphone tape that had my 12 year old voice on it; I was singing "Livin' on a Prayer" and some songs that I made up.

Other tapes (perhaps from earlier than that date, since those songs were from when I had a broken leg) had my high pitched voice whispering about what the neighbors. I'd crawl through the rhododendrons and report what they were doing as if I worked for the CIA and they were KGB agents. You could hear crinkled leaves and branches as I slithered through the underbrush; occasionally, I'd say, "Oh, I think they see me. Over and out." Okay. So not my coolest moment.

While I'm not proud of it, this trait has followed me throughout my life. I had a close friend who also enjoyed people watching and eavesdropping. We'd sit on park benches and make up stories about people. We'd go out to dinner and find ourselves distracted from each other by some drama going on at another table. Endless fun.


......
Now, as I'm looking at a substantial grant application, I'm distracting myself once again by looking around the room and "spying" on the coffee shop patrons. Not quite crawling around the room and listening to conversations, but still observing.

Here's a snapshot:

Perhaps filling out a job application, a woman who is sitting in the sun flips through an old fashioned Roladex full of little cards that have addresses from handwritten notes or business cards.

Others eat lunch-- two handed sandwich holding and one handed sweet potato fry tasting. Others sit huddled in front of computers or leaning back ankle-to-knee-leg-crossed while talking on cell phones.

One man in front of me is copying a handwritten document onto a fresh sheet. He has a sticker on a tennis racket bag that says, "No Fear. No War. Know Love. Know Peace." I've seen similar Jesus stickers... A woman next to me is holding a baby which is the size of a large watermelon.

The sun is streaming and passing shadows of plants and joggers into the room.

I've had too much caffeine and am listening to the Turing Machine on my headphones. Calendar open in front of me. Electronic files open on my screen. Back to executive summaries, goals and objectives. Over and out.

Views from the weekend

Windy then clear. Chilly toes. Hot Chocolate.

Leave at 10:40 Friday?

So I wasn't as productive today as I had hoped, which is why, on leave early Friday, I am looking at Strategy Grants and Excel spreadsheets at 10:43pm.

Our Better Bike efforts are going well. Here are a couple of photos of some of the bikes we've received:

Also check out these YouTube Videos (all are under a minute long):

How's that tire?

Quick check-in

Walking Overview (see if you can hear little B say, "It's a Mongoose. A Mongoose!")

Ode to Leave Early Friday

Oh, it's Friday and the email popped in
"Plan your day around leaving at 3:30pm! It's LEAVE EARLY FRIDAY."
My heart flitters even though I am working from home and
leave "early" almost every day.

What a life to be on salary, I imagine.
The arm pumping!
The high fives!
The leaping and clicking of heels!
Every hour is like gold.
The weekend taking a big step forward to say,
"oh hai."

Speed

It is Speed's birthday today. He is someone who doesn't stay up late, but rather listens to his friends and works arduously on creating beautiful things. What fabulous taste he has in books, music, and friends! Here is a birthday haiku:

Speedo Speed OH Speed
Love to your tall limbs and thoughts
Bright maples afoot.

Early Voting

Starts tomorrow in NC and goes until November 1st.
Here is some information:
* If you are registered, go to early vote location. First time voters bring photo id, utility bill, bank statement with name and address

*If not registered, bring NC driver's license, utility bill, bank or credit card statement, government document, paycheck or W2, Student ID and document with name and address.



Here are locations in Asheville:

UNC Asheville
1 University Heights Zeis Building, Asheville NC 28804 ·

North Asheville Library
1030 Merrimon Ave., Asheville NC 28804

West Asheville Library (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
Weaverville Town Hall (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
Oak Forest Presbyterian Church (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
South Buncombe Library (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
Innsbruck Mall (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Oct 18, 10am-9pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
Leicester Library (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
Fairview Library (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
Cheshire Village (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
Bee Tree Substation Fire Department (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
Biltmore Square Mall (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Oct 18, 10am-9pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
· Buncombe County Training Center (show details
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 8:30am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
·
Averys Creek Community Center (show details)
Phone: 828-250-4200
Hours: Oct 16 to Nov 1, Mon-Sat 10am-6pmSat, Nov 1, 8:30am-1pm
Asheville Senior Opportunity Center (show details)

Spitting

Here's an image from Sunday night:

Coxe Avenue... leaving Jack of the Wood

Firetruck in the middle of the street across from my car

Spitting sparks from a downed electrical line

Firefighters: "Miss, you'll have to wait here until we check this out."
Firefighters spitting tobacco
Street dappled with spit

Car on fire? No.
Small talk with firefighters about other firefighters I know, "You know Patrick?"
"Yeah, he's on our shift. Just had a youngin, too."
"Yes. He looks cute."
"Oh, is it a boy?"
"Yep..."

"You know Rae?"
"Yeah, but she moved."
"Yeah to England."
"Is that where she is..."

"You know Weesie?"
"Yeah. She's good people."
"Yeah."

"How long did the energy people say they'd be?"
"10 minutes. Should be here any minute."

As we were speaking, an older drunk man was lying next to the post office. His friend (who was wearing a hat that read, "Git 'er done") came over to talk with one of the firefighters. The drunk man threw a bottle over his head and then limped over. White hair, fly down, vomit on the sleeve of his jacket.

Firefighter, "So your friend said you need help."
Man, "Yes." He spits and the wire becomes a long sparkler over my car again.
"Where do you want to go?"
"The hospital."
"You wanna ambulance?"
"Yes."
Firefighter radios for an ambulance. Man says thanks and he and friend continue to watch the car drama. They spit, too.

Two women try to walk on the sidewalk near my car. Firefighters yell, "No, no, no!"
Women jump to a halt.
Firefighters point to the wire and then decide to position themselves on the sidewalk near sparks.

The smiley, young firefighter says to me, "You can stand by our truck if you want."

I wonder why, and then realize that the drunk vomit guys and I are the only ones standing on that side of the street. I chuckle. They all spit.

I walk into the middle of the street as the Progress Energy guy has one of the firefighters move my car and picks up the sparking wire. I look at my car. Speckles of silver are all over the back window. Scratches on the roof.

Young firefighter and I see if the speckles flake off (most do) and if the scratches come out (most do). I get into my car.

Young firefighter leans in and says, "If there's damage to your car, call Progress Energy... they should fix it."

Smiles, but instead of spitting says, "And you have a great night."

Tuckaseegee

This is after I was trying to surf a wave with a student.

This is after I jumped off that same rock. The water was chilly. One mom called me a "wuss." I didn't see her jumping...

Ah, October in North Carolina!

Safety first and fun will follow. Shawn role models the right way to wear a PFD and paddle in the stern. Some boys just got un-stuck from rocks just before the girls would have to dodge them.

Water, of course...

One of our TAASC was teary with homesickness on Saturday evening. I had spoken with her, but then wanted the other students to help her out. One new student, a little guy with glasses and strong opinions said, "I don't think she's been happy all day. Even when we were paddling the best rapids. She wasn't talking or smiling or anything."

Another girl, who is annoyed by this new kid, chimed in, "No, you don't even know her... she's ALWAYS quiet. She wasn't sad all day. Just now."

The new kid suggested this next, "Well, she just needs to drink more. Drinking makes everyone feel better."

I held my smile, but Greg turned to me and said, "See, we're teaching lifelong lessons here."

10.9.08 Column

I want to pass on this column entitled: Can This Be Pro-Life by Nicholas Kristof:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/09/opinion/09kristof.html?em

10:28pm

Ahoy.

Instead of all things productive, I find myself looking at others' photo albums on Facebook. It would be fine to look at relevant albums such as an old acquaintance getting married or photos of climbing trips or something; however, when those albums are finished, I stoop to looking at any "friend's" photo album.

Right now, for instance, I'm looking at Meredith's wedding. I have neither any idea who Mer (as I now like to call her) is, nor do I know anyone in the photos. And yet, I'm clicking through smiling bridesmaids and ring bearers. They are beautiful people.

A friend gave me great feedback that I should write about more topical subjects instead of dribble about my life (said much more smoothly, of course). I retorted that I'm too tired, too busy to write about other subjects.

This friend is currently training in Kung Fu, taking anatomy and physiology classes, planning the best music and social events in town, and probably reading some quantum physics book or something. And that's not even getting into his love life!

I felt lame for that excuse when I know that in addition to a productive set of things, this other set:

• Modern Love
• facebook
• blog reading
• sitting and staring at the blank wall

takes up a chunk of my time.

But who's to say that it's bad to spend time looking at photos of people you don't know? Or stare at the wall? Or write about these lazy activities on a blog post?

I'm not even convincing myself about that last one.
Ahoy, better blog.

Super cool.

When I was learning French, the teacher said that people said, "super cool" to mean "super cool." I don't know if that's really the truth, since she was pretty out of touch with telling us "c'est la barbe" meant "it's boring;" when I tried to use it in France, they laughed at me and explained that it was equivalent to using "groovy" to mean "cool."

Anyhow, my talented friend started a photography business and her website is supercool: www.debabramson.com. Her work is fantastic.

If you are in the area and have a family, you should hire her. She's freakin' rad. And funny.

Check it.

Obama.

Along with everyone else in Asheville (even the guy who had a "demo-crack" sign and the other one with the anti-abortion sign), I saw Barack Obama speak at Asheville High School today.

He spoke mostly about the economy and health care, but added a line about how it's so wonderful in Asheville. (He's staying a mile or so from my house.) Before the speech, there was a bunch of U2 music playing and I noticed that the sign language interpreter was signing to the crowd in front of her. I wonder if she had to sign all of the lyrics... When Obama said, "Hello Asheville!" this guy next to me yelled, "Hey Obama, what's up?!" A little girl said she wanted to see "Uncle Obama." Very cute.

During his speech, Obama joked that he wouldn't "okie dokie" or "you betcha" us. And that McCain wants to "turn the page on the economy" to spend the next 30 days attacking his opponent.

About that, he said something similar to what we told our munchkins a few weeks ago: that people must be pretty insecure about their own qualities if they work to only bash others. (He was talking about not having strong policies whilst we were talking about having confidence in things like soccer or spelling or having friends...). Debating qualities of proposals is different than calling names and stealing lunch money.

It was quite a scene-- we were going to go inside the stadium, but the line seemed to be a mile long so we found a spot in the shade where we had a great view of the stage and the secret service with big guns. Estaba quite a different day than paddling down the mighty Tuckaseegee River yesterday. Greg bought a pin that said, "Barack to the Future" with the Back to the Future design on it. I wish it had shown an illustration of Obama on one of those hoverboards.

About the cool poster at the top: http://www.obamaartreport.com/2008/08/change-thought-posters-free.html

October

"Things that matter most should never be at the mercy of things that matter least."

--Goethe

It was 38 degrees this morning outside and 34 degrees inside. Some leaves are starting to change and I am considering what clothes I've decided to bring on the river tomorrow.

It is my time of meditation. This month's focus is not as concise as previous months' themes. Instead, we are coming up with an exploration around this question: "What is most important?"

From there, a study about how to prioritize and make decisions. I am experimenting with food choices, how I spend my time, not drinking alcohol for a little while, and who is important to me. Morning sit spots and yoga are also on my mind.

ah

Like blue dwarf stars and geometry, these things amaze me:

This is my friend's creation.

It is made of Plexiglas and displayed on a light table.

I am in love with it.

I haven't met it in person, but I can just tell.

"So on a summer's day waves collect, overbalance, and fall; collect and fall; and the whole world seems to be saying, 'That is all' more and more ponderously, until even the heart in the body which lies in the sun on the beach says too, That is all. Fear no more, says the heart. Fear no more says the heart, committing its burden to some sea, which sighs collectively for all sorrows, and renews, begins, collects, lets fall."

Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

Shana Tova Umetukah!

(I copied that greeting from Wikipedia, it means "A Good a Sweet Year!")

Today is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year. Where I grew up, it meant a day off from school. Here, we don't take the day to rest, but I mentioned it twice to Sweet Sarah today because the idea of a new year and forgiveness have been on my mind this week.

It is easy for me to rush through my days without reflection; to dwell on or deny bad feelings; and to defend my actions (even when I'm not right). So often it is easy to distract myself and not sit quietly in the present.

When I woke up this morning, I thought about early morning sit spots... those meditations when all of the "to dos" of the day are put on hold and the main focus is chickadees or maple leaves. Today I will take a moment or two to throw stones in the river and think about apples and honey. It's a sweet, crisp, new autumn.

The Boss Revisited

I wish I were in Paris in 1985. When looking for Hungry Heart to see if the cover sounded real, I looked at Bruce Springsteen's videos on YouTube. Man alive. He is so awesome. And so good looking.

Jersey.

After my cousin's wedding, I wanted to go to Storm King or Dia Beacon and walk around, but my Sass and her fella didn't.

So I walked around my neighborhood. It was a crisp Saturday in New Jersey (my dad even put a fire on in the woodburning stove that night...) and I spent the day walking around the blocks... it gave me the great reminder that art is everywhere, even at Memorial Field where the peewee football team was getting blasted by its angry little coach... but that's another story.

The park down the street was hosting a "Day in the Park" party complete with balloons, hotdogs, kids swinging and sliding, and parents talking about whatever parents talk about.

It might have been the last park event of the season; during the summer there are weekly concerts at the bandshell there. Local bands usually play each week-- oldies, celtic, rock, whatever-- my folks said that Pete Seeger even played there this summer. I have vivid memories of going to those summer concerts with my family when I was little; we brought lawn chairs and we kids danced like hippies.

As I was walking back to my house, I heard some Bruce Springsteen (no joke, I know that seems too cliche to be real, but it honestly happened). At first I thought it was just someone playing it on the radio, but it seemed to echo.

Was this just the heartbeat of New Jersey coming out on this beautiful afternoon?! Nah, I think it was a cover band. I took out my camera to try to record it as I walked down the street. Unfortunately, the sound isn't as good as when I was walking (and you might suffer from vertigo watching it), but I'm glad I have proof. Lowng live da Jerse.

More Better Bikes

We had a photo shoot at last week's meeting after the kids fixed some bikes. Better Bikes is a project that we are starting within TAASC.

We are focusing on community service through offering great bicycles to those who cannot afford them in Asheville.

Here are the three steps to the Better Bikes Project:

1. TAASC students find old, but fixable bicycles (from home, from friends or neighbors, etc…)
2. Each works on his or her own bike project, learning how to fix it up
3. We help students match their bicycles with someone in the community who needs a good bike and cannot afford one.

In addition, the older kids are going to partner with other bicycle advocacy programs in Asheville to do an additional project such as making a documentary.

Connor

So my ploy to get attention resulted in more attention to a dog than to me. Fair enough, he's pretty freakin' cool. To answer the fans: no, Connor is not my dog, he is his own dog. The people who live with him are my friends who started TAASC.

Here are some facts about Connor:

• He is from South Africa.


• He didn't know what cats were, but was used to chasing monkeys on a blueberry farm.


• There is going to be a fabulous book series published about his adventures.


• He loves vienna sausages and beef jerky.


• He loves to jump completely into the air when catching tennis balls.


• He has a higher position in TAASC than I do (I am Project Manager. He is CFO...). See our staff webpage for details.


• He has his own email account. (Again staff webpage...)


• Homesick kids are comforted by him on trips. One boy said, "I wasn't going to get out of my tarp, but then Connor came to the door and wanted to play."

Asheville Has No Gas

This is not an exaggeration to get attention. For some reason, although the rest of the country seems to be taking Sunday drives and using gas-powered leaf blowers, the folks in our town have been spending hours in line to fill up their SUVs and scooters.

Today is the first day of the week that I've had to drive. While I have enough gas to last a couple of days (and hopefully won't have to wait for an hour or more when I have to fill up), I still got stuck in traffic as the cars block entire lanes of the road near the one gas station that was open.

Bicycles, people. Buses, people.

I'm engaged!

Just kidding. I'm missing comments on my blog, though, and wanted to see if this would spark some reaction...

September Photos

Some bike maintenance.

Some Connor-love.

(Relatives: I'll send you some more photos. I didn't want to have the whole world seeing our family's rendition of Jon Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer.")

A couple of wedding (yes, that one IS in a Howard Johnson).

This is our small airport. It is quite different from the one in Newark, NJ. I took this picture because I was sitting on the curb while waiting for Roomie, and thought about how I'd be run over if I did that in New Jersey. Sass made fun of those sunglasses, but I wasn't being ironic by wearing them. I think that they are rad, really.