Thoughts leaking from my mind

After five months, I just have so many things to say and no time to say them! Or rather, I opt not to say them and choose other activities.

First among these distractions is... my girlfriend! I can't possibly describe how awesome she is, but I'll say this: we met while contra dancing in March (a clue to her high level of coolness), and since then our relationship has been a continuous high. She's smart, she's funny, she's beautiful, and amazingly enough, she somehow has the grace to put up with me!

There's been the illness and death of my great-aunt, which has taught me many things... and someday, I'll write them out. The best part of that ordeal, though, has been that my 91-year-old great-uncle has moved up from Atlanta to Cary, so I see him twice a week now! Since he's the closest thing I have to a grandparent, I cherish our time together.

Alongside death and old age, I've seen new life emerge - two of my childhood friends who married have just given birth to their firstborn, and my step-brother is currently visiting with his wife and nine-month-old son. Then there are the lives merging in marriages - three since late March! It moves me every time to see two people I know commit to a life together.

But that's not why I started writing. Nor do I wish to take up politics, even though I could pontificate on The Spill, Big Business/Capitalism, Markets, Health Care, or something else. No, just a thought I'd like to throw out into cyberspace:

If hindsight is 20/20, I want to look at life from that perspective. That is, I want to see the future as if it were the past. I know Kierkegaard pretty much said the same thing: "Life can only be understood backwards," but I want to see my life laid out from my funeral to the present so I can gain the best view. Impossible, of course, but I can still simulate this by imagining various funerals, then charting a course to get to those funerals I want. Now there's an odd thought: How do I get to my funeral? What stops do I want to make on my way there? Are there places I want to avoid? Because when I ascend the last hill, I want to roar with delight and triumph as I survey my road. Come to think of it, I want that final roar more than anything else in the world, because in it lies Contentment. I don't mean to suggest that I'm not happy at present; I'm just afraid I won't get to do what I want before my time is up.

I suppose that's it for now. You know, I really enjoyed this post. I ought to do this more often...

Kindness and Analysis

I've been watching a lot of political shows lately, and I thought instead of whining about health care or the Christmas Day attack, I'd share more positive thoughts in a spirit of friendliness and goodwill. I suppose I've got some lingering magnanimity leftover from the holidays... :D

After watching this interview last night, I have to say that, right now, Ron Paul is my favorite Republican at the moment. His views and demeanor are refreshing in such antagonistic times. And just to be clear, both sides are antagonistic; Olberman can be rather inflammatory, as can Limbaugh. Back to Paul - he's so calm; pointing out the flaws of both sides with all the charm of a kind grandfather and the insight of a sage. I wish Paul's fellow fiscal conservatives in the various Tea Party factions would show the same restraint and gentleness as their figurehead. That said, I think I understand why some of the signs in their marches are so venomous. As Paul says in the interview above, this is an anti-establishment movement that has no defined place in either major party, so while citizens affiliated with either party can appeal to their leaders and representatives in DC, these folks have no recourse but to organize marches and protests. Simply put, if think no one's listening, you shout louder. That translates into something akin to desperation and manifests itself with increasingly vehement supporters and decreasingly courteous messages. Look at the drawings of Obama as the Joker, or the sign, "Bury Obamacare with Kennedy!"

Unfortunately, as Paul himself says, such well-intentioned passion for smaller government and less spending can ultimately hurt its own cause. I just witnessed in a heated discussion the importance of style and presentation: Two people ultimately agreed on a point after much civil but tense conversation, but just as they were about to wrap up, one shouted at the other that the discussion should end precisely because they agreed. This of course did not resolve the matter, but made the situation much more unpleasant because the other person was not finished expressing their final remarks and was hurt at the harshness of the first person. The lesson here is that if Unkindness can drive away those who agree, how can it negotiate with others who disagree, much less persuade them to join its cause?

Next, I have to say I feel sorry for Michael Steele. He has the onerous and unenviable task of balancing the demands of the Tea Party while placating the base and taking fire from both sides. Oh, and then there's the midterm elections to prepare. No big deal, right?

That's it for now, but I may post more soon. Take care, and I'd love to hear your comments - especially if you're conservative. Just keep it civil (not that you wouldn't).

Jumbled thoughts

I feel I should write something - let's see what happens...

I just found out that MCC has decided not to hire me for next season. I kinda saw it coming since some of my friends found out about their own statuses weeks ago, but it still stung to hear it officially.

Since I'm such a sentimental guy, I'm reflecting on my Montana experience with more than the usual nostalgia. The thought creeps up on me that I may never see some of those places/faces again. I'll miss walking a few blocks to the coffeeshops for internet, my sparsely decorated apartment, the cultural atmosphere of Bozeman, walking to and from Hasting's for movies/tv shows... ah... the clarity of the air matched only by the clarity of purpose: Clear this trail, close that trail, take out these weeds, remove these trees.

Somehow, moving 2000 miles to a place where I'd never been.. to live with people I'd never met... doing work I'd never done... at heights I'd never reached... in weather I'd never experienced... somehow, that was one of the best decisions I've ever made. I could hardly cook anything, and now I can fix breakfast outside. I'd never heard of a McLeod, but now I know how to use one to clear a trail. If I can climb mountains with East Coast lungs and befriend folks from various walks of life; if I can sleep on the ground, rise with the sun, work in the rain, bathe in a stream and even perform Poe by the fire; if I can carry 50 pounds on my back for two miles, then I can do anything. It's no longer a trite "inspirational" phrase to me; I genuinely believe I can do anything.

Now, time to impose my will on the next mountain: Finding a job.

Thoughts from Starbucks

I wrote this a few days ago in Starbucks, which I tried out because I'm searching for my new home for productive internet use. I have access at home, but I never seem to do what I need to do when I'm there; hence the search. Enjoy the spatterings of thought...

I never thought I’d breathe a sigh of relief after entering a Starbucks, but here I am, finding comfort with that green-circled goddess.

December 7, 2009: I officially am sick of living at home. I miss the unhurried streets of downtown Bozeman, the locally owned stores, the proximity of everything to everything else, the free bus system… Even more than these, though, I miss buying my own groceries and knowing exactly what’s in the cupboard, a comfortable place to relax, uncrowded by trivial possessions like beds and dressers and an overabundance of clothes. A place I can call my own. A place, in essence, to call Home.

If home is where the heart is, then my Home isn’t where I grew up; it’s somewhere in the wooded Appalachians or, dare I say it, out among the Rockies. At least, in the present time. For a while, my home was in the past with my college friends, 2002-2005. I’ve moved far enough now that my home is in the future. It’s still not Now. Fortunately, that means I can look forward to coming Home, instead of always missing it.

And so it seems Starbucks won’t let me use their internet unless I have a member card. *gag* I think my REI card would kick it out. Well, fair enough. I was just starting to like the place – cheaper prices than my usual stop in Bozeman – but now I have an excuse to dislike them again, along with the traditional bleeding-heart objections.

Just spotted a girl across the shop and thought, “Hey, she’s kinda cute.” Then I realized she was with her mother working on calculus. Ruh-roh…

I realized today that my hair style is straight out of the ‘80s. Need to fix that.

Google Chrome is the bomb.com.

Shorter non-sequitur.

Even shorter.

Shortest!

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So that's that. There's always more to add, but rarely time/will to add it. And yet I think I'll be posting more often. No promises, though.

The War on Christmas

I just left a lengthy comment on a friend's facebook page and was a bit pleased with the result of my efforts, so here it is: My thoughts on "Merry Christmas" vs. "Happy Holidays."

Regardless of our country's founding principles, not everyone celebrates Christmas. If I told a Jew "Merry Christmas," then he or she might easily be offended, just as I'd be a little put off if that same person wished me a Happy Hanukkah. To me, the most galling thing about the whole debate is the assumption by one party that everyone ought to celebrate one holiday and forget about the rest. Such an assumption lacks courtesy and respect. I'm fine with folks who devoutly celebrate Christmas - I used to be one of them. However, when devotion to one faith leads to dismissal and disrespect of the others, that faith has lost its beauty, like a stained glass window lying shattered in the mud.
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So there you have it. Regardless of which tradition you follow, I hope you have a wonderful holiday season.

Just in case you're wondering...

I had a little fun with my facebook profile by changing the picture to an emo look and then posted an emo-like status, referring to this blog. Now, all I have is Strong Sad of homestarrunner.com to imitate for emo-ness, so I don't know how well I did. Really, I'm posting to reassure people I'm not really that depressed.

Otherwise, things are okay - not fantastic, not awful, just okay. Can't wait to see old friends at Wake, and I need to see my favorite mountains soon, but it's been good to be with my family and befriend a new cat.

Gotta go.

Wow.

Six months. What a ride.

I plan on giving those experiences the attention they deserve, but for now, chilling out in the concourse of Denver International, I'd like to focus on something more trivial. Like driving 750 miles or so from Bozeman to Denver because I wanna get home now and not wait another week.

Or the fact that the place to go in Bozeman if you want ethnic/lingual diversity is the bus system: in the last week, I've heard Russian, Farsi/Arabic, and Mandarin. In friggin' Montana! The state tied with Utah for whitest in the union, and Utah's got the excuse of Mormons.

I got on the bus from the rental car return station to the terminal today, and some guy was talking on his phone with a southern accent. I about hugged him. Didn't know I missed that drawl until I heard it again. It's funny, out here, there's a kind of twang that resembles a southern accent, but it's just not the same.

Oh, it took me 540 miles on my trip to see a cop, then another 150 until I got to the Denver area and saw others. Weird.

Last night at 7:30pm, it felt like midnight on the roads; not because I was especially tired, but because it was so dang dark and I was practically alone on the interstate.

Traveling 5mph over the speed limit out here makes you a speed demon (again, until you get to Denver). I was passed by a total of one car, and that was because we were on an on-ramp. I passed him (for good) a few minutes later.

After 600 miles at 80mph, 65mph feels like crawling.

Downtown Denver is a cool place - I toodled around for 30 minutes before heading to the airport, and I wish I could've gotten out of my car and explored on foot. The new Mile High Stadium is pretty impressive, too; looks a lot more imposing than Bank of America Stadium.

It's kinda funny that I've been to Denver's airport five times, but today was my first experience of the city.

I got stereotyped at the CO visitor's center. I told the lady I had a couple of hours to kill before turning in the rental car, and she started rattling off the breweries that were nearby. I was tempted to throw a fit just for kicks: "Just because I'm a 20-something male doesn't mean that I wanna go get buzzed! Besides, I've just told you that I'm driving! And then flying afterward! You want me to become more dangerous on the road and then be dehydrated for my flight back?!?! Hey, you're a lady in your 60s, why don't you find something better to do, like knit a sweater! And when you finish, make one for your dog, too." No, it doesn't upset me. Just something funny.

Okay, gotta pack up and mozy through security. Like I said, I'll be writing more soon.