It's Just Us

Gravity keeps working whether it’s convenient or not

Ever notice how difficult it can sometimes be to get ahead of the proverbial curve? There are times in my life when things seem to be getting along just fine. Then, out of the blue, reality rears its ugly head and I’m brought back to earth with a resounding, echoing, screaming thud (don’t think thuds can echo or scream? You should hear one of mine). This entire past week has apparently been one of those times when reality said, “Dude, pay attention!” Did I listen to reality? Give me a break. Who has time for reality?

Last Monday I decided to move my computer’s speakers. I’ve wanted to move them for a few months or so and finally decided that “today’s the day.” Motivation hit at the exact same time that I had a few extra minutes. What is it with me that I think I can do something in a few minutes? Why do I think that way?

I gathered all the necessary things like drills (to drill holes in the wood bookcase for speaker wire), screwdrivers and pliers (don’t know why, but they seem to be a requirement for just about everything) the speaker wire extensions, Band-Aids, Diet Pepsi, etc, etc.

Now I realize that some of you may, in the future, want to move your own speakers so, in the interest of being the upright public servant that I pretend to be, here are the exact steps I took. Should you follow them, I take no responsibility for any injury, dismemberment, or death.

Moving speakers the hard way
1. Stare at the speakers
2. Measure speakers to make sure they will fit in the bookcase
3. Open bag from Fry’s Home Electronics with speaker wire extensions
4. Realize you bought the wrong thing and go back to Fry’s
5. Now that you’re home from Fry’s once again, get something to drink and head back to the project
6. Remove books from the shelves that will hold the speakers. Ask yourself if you really do need to keep that old paperback dictionary you haven’t opened since you started using dictionary.com. Throw away 1959 version of dictionary
7. Now that the shelves are empty, place cloths under where you’re planning to drill to catch at least some of the sawdust (drill dust?)
8. Drill holes (this assumes you remembered to charge the drill or brought an extension cord and have the drill bit in the correct size)
9. Drill like a fiend until you have holes large enough for the speaker wire heads
10. Clean up the dust
11. Stand back to admire your work and notice that the clock you placed on the shelf is tilting in a way that no clock, or most anything else for that matter, is supposed to tilt
12. You look at the clock and determine that, yes, it is indeed leaning and you look at the shelves wondering what the heck is going on
13. Aahhhhhhhhhhh! You realize that the entire bookcase that is mounted on the wall over your desk (and by extension your computer), holding at least 200 books (yes, hardback), is not as flush against the wall as it most definitely should be. You, because it falls in line with all the other goofy stuff you do, push against the shelf a couple of times to determine just how loose the bookcase really is. Well it’s very loose
14. You now very slowly take your hands off the bookcase and while it’s still hanging there and scramble like mad yanking books off of those shelves
15. You get the books off, get a piece of wood to prop the case up and tiptoe downstairs and call a handyman.
16. Handyman comes, looks at the case, shakes his head (it’s required for guys to do that) and the two of you head to Home Depot to get the necessary things to mount the case in a much better way than the first time
17. Back home, with a higher balance on the Home Depot credit card
18. Now to work!
19. Handyman fixes the case; it’s guaranteed to withstand earthquakes, children doing pull-ups and, yes, hardcover books
20. Write another check
Back to the original project which was moving two speakers
21. Dust shelves, vacuum floor, put tools away
22. Unhook speakers from the computer
23. Place speakers in the bookcase, thread speaker wire through the lovely holes you drilled, and plug back into computer
24. Replace books on the shelves
25. Grab a cold one and sip it while listening to Wes Montgomery’s “a Day in the Life” and sit back and let the music flow over you like warm Pacific surf while vowing to forget about any other projects for at least the next few months.

How comfortable is your comfort zone?

What gets you out of your comfort zone? A middle-of the night phone call? A flat tire? A new job? Countless things can yank us out of a comfort zone. But first, just what is a comfort zone? What does one look like? Well, a comfort zone can, of course, be many things:

A person – when you’re with that person you feel safe, serene and comfortable;

A chair – perhaps an old recliner is your comfort zone – the place where you feel the safest;

Your home – you walk in, kick off your shoes and keep the world at bay;

Your car – You’re by yourself listening to music – or the quiet – and just reveling in being with yourself;

Perhaps your comfort zone is not being within shouting distance of a conservative or shouting distance of a liberal;

Perhaps your comfort zone isn’t a place or a thing at all but simply a state of mind – the state where you feel at peace, at harmony, wrapped in warmth and comfort.

Going back to the original question, what happens when, for whatever reason, you’re dragged un-ceremoniously out of a comfort zone? But our own personal comfort zones are not anywhere near societal comfort zones, right? Well I don’t know.

What causes a breakdown in your comfort? Is it a bad dinner at a restaurant? Is it the high price of fuel? Is it the high interest rate on a MasterCard? Is it the low interest rate on savings? Or is it when you exit the freeway? As you get to the end of the exit ramp and will have to stop and wait for the light to turn green you see a person who may have not showered in a few days or weeks. Their hair is matted and long, the clothes are dirty and stained; their shoes have holes so large you can see them from your car. Is being parked next to this person while you wait for a light to change and seeing a sign they’re holding what pulls you from your comfort zone?

It’s not personal…or is it?

I may have just left a classroom where the time had gone wonderfully well. Something was dis-cussed and the room was illuminated. The class ran with it and wrote all sorts of papers that pushed their understanding and creativity to the limits. And now it’s evening and I’m tired from teaching and grading papers, and having meetings, and writing a newspaper column, and working on a book. I’m tired but exhil-arated. I’m feeling great – the day went well and all is wonderful with the world.

Dark is settling, a Corinne Bailey Rae CD is playing, and I can’t wait to get home and hug the kids. I get off the freeway and as I approach the end of the ramp I see that person with a sign. I know that mine will be the car parked next to that person with a sign. I do not want to feel “Ah, gee, not tonight” but I might.

I can’t help but remember something my grandmother said to me when I was with her in a car and something similar happened. She said “Ah the person just wants the money to buy whiskey.” I remember even then thinking “so what?” If a person so needs something to stand out here for hours begging for change from strangers – and take the abuse from some drivers that comes with that – then they probably really need it.

But I didn’t say anything to her and somehow some of her discomfort zone apparently seeped into me. Doesn’t come out often, but occasionally it might.
I was with a friend when we were in this same position getting off a freeway and he said, “Oh not again. I give to the Red Cross, I donate blood, I recycle, I vote, I don’t drive a gas hog. Come on, how much?”

People asking for help in situations like that really take us out of our comfort zones in a hurry. Maybe it’s because we’re face-to-face with another human being and one who may not be quite as pretty or clean or as heart-warming as one of Jerry’s kids. Or, do Jerry’s kids yank you from your comfort zone too? According to the National Alliance to End Homelessness, there are over 670,000 individuals who are homeless on any given night in the U.S. There are 131,000 homeless veterans. And while it may help keep us in our comfort zone to think that most of those individuals are homeless because they are lazy, or simply don’t want to work, we know that the reality is that people are homeless for many reasons. Some are homeless because of abusive marriages and they’ve gone into hiding, or because they were thrown out of their house with nothing, or are running sacred from horrendous situations. Some are mentally ill, and some are too young to escape horrific situations. The reality may be too gruesome for some of us to think about – it’s too far out of our comfort zone.

So what do we do? How can we get beyond our comfort zones? Well first you have to recognize that it exists. Then you have to see the need to break out of it – and there’s always that need – for the person, for the human race or simply yourself. Then you have to want to break out of it. You have to want to feel a little edgy. You have to know that to help move a world means being a little less comfortable.

Idaho Falls is not exactly a small town, however, it isn’t big one either. It’s large enough to have a BMW and VW dealer but not Mercedes Benz. This wouldn’t matter, were it not for the fact that the motor home has a Mercedes diesel in it.

I like the Mercedes diesel – it runs great, gets tettific mileage, and is powerful as hell. That being said, just try to get coolant for it. The BMW and VW dealer’s parts departments aren’t open on Saturday and the auto parts stores? Well, no. But after a bit of hunting, we found one that did have something that could work. And so, the diesel has oil and coolant and we’re planning on heading out tomorrow morning at 4am.

The drive to Las Vegas will take something like 12 hours. We’ll get there, have dinner with family, sleep, and get up early Monday in time to drive home and return the MH by 4pm.

And now I smell enchiladas.

The motor home saga, thanks to ATMs and the Shell Oil Company, forges ahead. Sure, we’re having fun…except for that part when I woke up one bright Monday morning and felt a large lump. The first thought was that I haven’t done anything, and I mean anything, strenuous enough to give me a hernia. Believe me, I would remember that.

So I found an urgent-care facility attached to a hospital and called a cab. What – I’m going to drive a motor home through an unfamiliar town looking for a hospital? No.

Now I’m sure that the place I found is a great facility filled with caring, competent people. But after spending three hours in their version of not-really-all-that-urgent, urgent care I truly no longer gave one bloody damn. I checked out after promising to see my family doctor.

The physician’s assistant who saw me said I shouldn’t be so impatient – it was Monday after all. I agreed that it was Monday but since they obviously knew the day of the week they should plan for it – it was their hospital not mine after all. But by that time I was telling it to the hall as the PA walked away.

The PA wanted to do an ultrasound since “lumpy” probably wasn’t a hernia (wrong non-mid-line location – say what?), and started using other words more scary than hernia. An ultrasound would have been fine. Well, mostly fine except that once I saw how this facility defined “urgent” I honestly just didn’t have the time – I want to be able to see my six-year-old daughter graduate high school.

I was never going to be able to do that if I waited for an ultrasound in a hospital in Eureka (especially since it meant being transferred from the urgent care division to the hospital and then back to urgent care after completion). And there was more paperwork to be done – someone would be in to see me.

No thank you very much. I live in a city with world-class medical facilities. I’m going to let a place that was obviously having problems understanding what urgent care really means do anything to me? Uh, no.

So I checked myself out, called a cab and went back to the hotel. We packed the motor home, I checked out, and we hit the road.

I’m begging you, please stop

After all the hospital nonsense we didn’t manage to get back on the road until after 1pm. We needed to make up some time if we were going to see some redwoods during daylight. And we were going to see those damn trees.

And eventually the kids started getting along great – they both fell asleep. After that I made wonderful time until we paused to look at those trees when darling daughter and son started up again. Ride or walk? Gondola or no gondola? Shuttle or no shuttle?

Are you kidding me? Put me on the shuttle to the tram, then in the gondola to the top. Spin me in a 360, let me glance at a few trees and stuff and then put me back in the gondola. At the base have the shuttle waiting for me to take me to the gift store and then the parking lot.

But no. They wanted to hike and look at trees, take photos in front of trees, and climb trees (luckily that last one was absolutely off limits by the state). So we hit the trails (yes, even I hiked a bit).

Okay, the trees and nice – very big and ancient and beautiful. Now can I go to a comfy hotel with a three-star restaurant and spa?

The MH is packed, the fridge full of various and sundry drinks, munchies in cupboards, and the tank is full of diesel. We’re ready to go. Well, as soon as Kid 1 wakes up. Kid 2 has been awake and ready to since 5am but no point in leaving yet; why hit LA traffic? So in about an hour or so we’ll head off to whatever awaits.

Ever have an idea that sounded great at the time and as the moment of fruition came closer you started to, well, wonder? That’s the story of this:

The Somewhat Golden Triangle 2011

When my sister and I were growing up, our parents liked to travel. Our father liked to travel a lot (photo shoots in Africa, a road trip from Los Angeles to the tip of South America, trips around the world, you get the idea); our mother not so much. Oh the traveling was fine, she just wanted a Hilton at the end of the day rather than mosquito netting. I’m a lot like her – a Motel 6 is more than I care to rough it.

One of the great things about that traveling was that mom and dad rarely left my sister and me with relatives while they took off. The family traveled together (except for the Africa and South America trips that my father did with friends and I’m still a bit ticked off about missing). And they liked to travel by car. Of the three cars in the garage, one was always a sport wagon. And whenever the travel bug hit, my father would say let’s go. The car would be packed, and off we’d head to wherever look good. The mountains? Sure. The desert? Why not. Key West? Absolutely. Mexico City during Christmas? Pack the gifts. Acapulco for a month during school? Pack the books.

Looking back I can see just how wonderful those trips were. We saw – and came to really know – the spaces and people between airports. We didn’t fly from Los Angeles to Acapulco, we drove. We didn’t stay in a hotel while there, we rented an apartment. When you drive from Los Angeles to Acapulco you see people – how they live, what they do, how towns and cities vibrate with life.

When we drove from LA to Miami we visited towns and people across Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Georgia, and Florida. We were able to stop and see things we’ve never seen and wouldn’t see if we weren’t there. The taste and aromas of Cajun food in little restaurants in the bayou are so much better than in an airport lounge.

Waking up at 6am in the middle of somewhere new, piling in the car and driving for an hour until you stop for breakfast, not at a Denny’s but at a local restaurant, offer your senses things that cannot be achieved any other way. Road trips are meaningful in so many areas for touching cultures, seeing the vast expanse of this nation, and really experiencing newness.

And that is what this series of blogs is about. A golden triangle road trip starting in San Diego, meandering up the coast of California and Oregon, then heading across Oregon and Idaho, and down through the desert back to San Diego. A few of the areas we’re going to see are Morro Bay State Park, California Coastal Nat’l. Monument, Silver Park Wilderness Area, Ventana Wilderness, Monterrey, Big Sur, Redwoods State Park, Half Moon Bay, Bodega Bay, Fort Bragg, Humboldt State Park, Redwoods Nat’l Park, Klamath Falls, Willamette National Forest, Crater of the Moon National Monument, and more. Or perhaps we won’t see half of those – or we’ll see places not on the list – it doesn’t matter. That’s the great thing about a road trip, you can change the itinerary on a whim. And whim plus kids will be the driving force on this trip.

I’ll be blogging at least daily. This may be a road trip but I’m still not roughing it. We’ve rented a small WiFi connected motor home to take us from inn to inn and so I’ll be posting to the blog, writing my newspaper column, and teaching two classes while we travel. It’s going to be interesting – but isn’t that what life should be? Feel free to add to the blogs, offer suggestions, helpful hints, and ways to get over the “are we there yet?” syndrome from the 14-year-old. The beat, and the motor home, will roll shortly.

A movin’ on time of year

Well, that time of year has finally arrived. Graduations are here and the faces look so brilliant. The eyes sparkle and the step has a pronounced bounce. These women and men have graduated!

Graduating is definitely a big deal. “Look at me, world! I graduated; I can do this!”

Watching the faces

This past week I sat through another graduation: the Alliant International University Class of 2011. Picture it: The parents, siblings, friends and relatives near and distant have taken their seats. There is a soft murmur as people talk while getting ready for “that moment” to arrive. And then it does.

The graduates march in to the music of “Pomp and Circumstance” with gowns waving, caps on, and all eyes on them, many tearing up.

Then come the faculty and administrators. Everyone is still standing as we go up the aisle – many parents with a slight “whew” in their eyes with those tears.

We take our seats on the dais and the speeches start. The welcoming speech, the commencement speech and more. The soon-to-be-graduates are restless, nervous, and excited. Who wouldn’t be?

I look out into the audience of former students and recognize so many. Some shoot me covert peace signs or smile and nod. I’m going to miss you.

Here’s a secret about the faculty sitting up there looking so dignified: many of us have been through these graduations ten, twenty, thirty times. And we still like going. We still get misty-eyed during those special moments when a student gives us a slight wave. And yes, occasionally, we may text someone or play a game on our phone if the speaker is droning on too long – just like those graduates are doing.

I like to look at the faces in the audience. Those of the students and their guests. I watch the faces because there on those faces are etched pride, hope, belief in the future and dreams come true.

And then it starts. The awards, the diplomas, the handshakes, the photos, the tears. There isn’t anything else quite like those ceremonies because it’s the culmination of years of dedicated hard work and sacrifice.

Graduating from a university is not an easy thing. According to Huffpost, quoting “a new study from Harvard and the Asian Development Bank, 6.7 percent of the world’s population are college degree-holders.” Did you get that? Only 6.7%. A bachelors degree is hard to get. A masters degree is much harder and a doctorate is unbelievably difficult. And it is always worth it. Always.

Success

I like graduations, they are wonderful success stories. There are, after all, many things that can hinder an education. Just a few of the obstacles that can get in the way of a complete education include poverty, health problems, lack of motivation, peer pressure, drugs, violence, unplanned pregnancy, and lack of a role model. Yet millions of people around the world are graduating this month. Millions more who raised these individuals are seeing their own hard work pay off.

Graduations are never taken lightly. The world of the graduate will never again be the same. Some of the people with whom great and wonderful friendships were forged will never be seen again. Many people will change careers while others will start new ones. Some are continuing with education while others are finally (finally!) finishing.

We all made a difference

Sometimes we hear about the impact a teacher had on a student. Well you know what? I have never met a teacher whose life was not changed by their students, either.

Here is something you might think about. At some point in the distant future you will think wistfully about a teacher. Perhaps that instructor smiled at you during a depressing morning; maybe she truly made algebra not just understandable, but so much fun that you made computer science your career. Might be that he taught you what good writing actually looked like; or she helped you further your own understanding of the cosmos. Maybe he just took the time to hear you.

This is the interesting part: that teacher you may think about years from now will have also thought about you. You have had an impact on your school and on your instructors. And for myself, I thank you. I am a better person for knowing you, for teaching you, for learning from you. To the graduating class at Alliant International University, and indeed every graduate around the world, you have my congratulations and my gratitude. Now the world is yours, treat it well.

I-10

never meanders

It blasts

through the

swamps hanging with Spanish moss

the occasional forests

and mile after endless mile of deserts

It blasts

through towns like

Las Cruces

Indio

Tucson

Lordsburg

Deming

El Paso

And the water places, the humid places

Baton Rouge

Pensacola

Lafayette

Gulfport

Biloxi

From

Santa Monica on the west &

Jacksonville on the east

There is life between the two    &

yet

I-10 is a staggeringly lonely place