Still, as a former resident of the Gulf region and an ecologist by training and choice, I obviously am not entirely unaffected. I struggle for something to say about that poor state (literally and metaphorically) anymore, other than that this kind of thing SHOULD be the perfect catalyst for establishing some real incentives for clean energy industry in the region. I mean, if they're going to, as some have suggested, let developers go in there and repaint the canvas without color or texture, they could, at least, charge them with helping fund tax breaks and job training that would move the state in the smart direction that would help prevent such avoidable tragedy from striking again.
So it turns out that mononucleosis is the final word, for now, on what has kept me under the weather for nearly a year. This is kind of a relief, since I was so far down that I was thinking cancer, MS (my sister and aunt has/had the misfortune of dealing with this one), Lyme disease, and other such things. On the other hand, knowing this means that there is nothing to be done. I simply must try to stay as healthy as possible if I don't want to experience the symptoms. I've knocked out smoking. It's been around 7 months, now, and I only occasionally have the urge. I've been less successful with cutting out my alcohol consumption, but I'm less concerned with that, since I don't drink excessively. The toughest parts are a) taking it easy on the physical exertion and b) keeping the stress at a manageable level. The latter has gotten me in such a fix that I gave "The Power of Now" a try, at the advice of a friend. I don't have much patience for this kind of book, but I can see how some might find it valuable. I guess I'm resisting the non-resistance that the author advocates. It's the kind of thing that makes most sense if you, as mentioned in the book, have been through some substantial tragedy or experienced significant suffering. I don't think just reading about living in the present can shift one that way. It does help to read some of the analogies and advice on how to better observe oneself, but I think one needs time for this transition, more than anything, and that is one of those things he mentions forgetting about in the book. Unfortunately, I'm convinced one first must plan and live in the future enough to present the situation where time matters so little that one can forget about it and stop living "in the mind."
On a related note, how about we all agree to stop telling people that are stressed out that they need to relax? Speaking as one that is subject to an appreciable amount of stress, we all know that we need to relax, and being told that we should only reminds us that we need to but can't, which makes things worse. Trust me, we think about it all the time, but if our schedule does not allow "down time," it just doesn't. It isn't that we haven't looked into ways to create more "time for ourselves." It is, simply, that life doesn't allow for it, sometimes. This is sort of why I take issue with the book. I appreciate that it is probably easier to just identify oneself with negativity than to change things and facilitate positivity and joy, but the latter is not attainable at any given moment for everybody.
Lately, I've found it closer and closer. Summer is almost here, and that means I'm back in the shop. It means prettyin' up the newest rig in the arsenal, too. It cost me $60, and it is a 1987 Schwinn Circuit with Columbus tubing, an all-original drive train of Suntour Sprint stuff, and some other beautiful attributes (everything on it is original equipment, I think). My only upgrades will be bar end shifters (down tubes just don't work efficiently enough on the group rides I do), Cinelli leather tape, a Nitto stem (only because the Cinelli was so frozen in the steerer tube that I nearly destroyed the threads in the quill bolt and wedge/cone getting it out), and some handsome old (but brand new) Campagnolo brake levers some idiot sold me for $5 long ago. I'll probably also replace the saddle and seat post down the road and even get the frame and fork painted, since I'm seriously considering making this my regular road race rig and selling my Jamis Eclipse to start a fund for the purchase of an Independent Fabrication (we just picked them up at the shop) or a Seven. I'm thinking I'll shoot for something like the Club Racer that IF does (a good all-around setup that would allow trailer pulling). Whatever I wind up with isn't that important. I'm really happy with what I've got in the garage, currently.
Update: The Circuit is ready to go, and I broke it in on a 40-miler with John G. and Greg S. before work this past Saturday. I now only need replace the seat post and saddle and it'll be right where I want it. Here's a gander:
We were going to go see Modest Mouse, but the tickets were $35 each. I only once paid that much to see music in my life and that was the first Lollapalooza, so I dicked off and the show wound up selling out. Great for them, too bad for the audience. The Music Farm in Charleston is one of the worst venues on this planet. Over the years, we've seen Dalek, They Might Be Giants, and Iron and Wine there, none of which sounded good. It wasn't that they played poorly, but thanks to the retched acoustics of that dive, everything in there sounds like it's being funneled through a thin, aluminum tube. Maybe they've improved by now. It's been a long time since I've been to a show. I might go see Eyehategod in Spartanburg next week, though, which would be a great way to get back into it. Speaking of music, thanks for the tunes, Bob. The Zydepunks reminds me of Flogging Molly, but more interesting. The Cross Stitched Eyes and other punk stuff was great, too. It reminded me of all that great dual-vocal stuff we used to wear out (Antischism, Nausea, Paxton Quigley...there's an old one for you, Bob!...was that the cookie monster band?). The other disc didn't stick to me as much. I guess I've just lost some of my taste for that new "old" sound, since everybody and their brother is doing something folky, now.
I'm officially an iTunes idiot, now, but only on occasion. My hand was forced when I saw the price of the new Dan Le Sac/Scroobius Pip ($28) versus the download ($10). It does also get me access to some out of print stuff from Lungfish and others, too, so it ain't all bad. The problem is that now I'm thinking about getting a 160GB iPod and a USB-equipped turntable so I can download all that vinyl. Man, these things always snowball into way too much (exactly as intended by the tech pushers, I'm sure...contrary to all the "convenience" references in their propaganda).
Speaking of convenience, we had a car-free event on one of our major downtown business district streets the other day. It sounds like it was a big success, but it aggravates me for one simple reason. It reinforces the division between those in motor vehicles and everybody else. It suggests that the only safe way for pedestrians and bicyclists to use our busiest downtown streets is to wait until all motor vehicle traffic is prohibited. It reminds me of the "rumble shoulders" that have been plopped down on many of our local rural routes. These allow drivers to be less attentive, but it also literally divides the two user groups.
Thanks to Adam for this bit of potentially really bad news. Read the comments that people posted. I was especially weirded out by the use of the word "segregate," but I guess maybe that word might not have the same weight across the pond as it does here.
The girls are napping and have been down for nearly 3 hours, now! Today is an experiment in pushing them into 1 nap instead of 2. If they can get on this schedule, it will finally give us the time we need to get to the beach, the aquarium, and any number of other places that have just been too far on our old schedule. It has been nice, though, recently, since they've been staying up kind of late, and I've been able to see them and help Andree after the Tuesday and Thursday night rides.
Update: Today was our first trip to the SC Aquarium with the girls and they seemed to really like it. We got a pass, too, so my hope is that they absolutely fall in love with it. I, of course, could spend day after day walking around that place and never get bored. Even if they don't totally dig it or get tired of it, a trip there means a short walk to the main branch of our incredible library, so I'm pretty happy about it all.
I joined a mess of folks for a ride at Manchester State Forest on Sunday. The ride was nice, though I never really felt like I got my trail legs or reaction time down. There were some decent crashes, as a result, for a change (one coming down a slippery bridge ramp and another into one of the many sandy turns that make this place so much fun). We nearly got stranded when the van didn't start, but our fearless leader hailed a truck full of lounge chairs, beer drinkers, and many, many cigarettes. Jumping a motor vehicle with a few city folk and a heap of rural characters is always a good time, so I took a seat and let the entertainment commence. It was the perfect end to a good ride.
Speaking of perfect ends to good rides, USA is a Monster is the best band to which you never listened. Watch this and cry for the next force as meaningful.
