Oct 2006

Once upon a time it was brought to my attention that forsight was a virtue I lacked. To wit- wandering out so far into the California foothills one night that I had to call my roommate to pick me up. In fact, it was then that my particular deficit was made known to me.

One would assume that I would have adapted, at this point, to this peculiarity as I have to my inability to retain short term memory (my wallet, if nothing else, is meticulously organized, see also, at times, my pants pockets) but, sadly, I have fabricated no evolutionary or organizational mechanism for this dilema.

Case in point. I do not know the proper assembly for my rainfly. Now, in case you were wondering, a rainfly is the part of the tent you use in the rain in order to keep dry, it's got a flap that covers the doors to the tent as well as the mesh part on top. A proper rain fly keeps rain out. You can now see why the proper assembly thereof is integral to a good night's sleep on a dreary, dismal, freezing cold night like the one I just spent in Nebraska.

Suffice it to say that one oughtn't go camping in Nebraska in October in the rain without a little thought put into how exactly one is going to be sheltered. I woke up around 3:30 with my feet numb in a small puddle that had already soaked the bottom of my blankets.

Perhaps here, though, we can see that I do, in fact, posess a powerful tool in the fight against my lack of forethought: Innovation. That's right. I climbed back in my car, tied my pajama bottoms into knots to make feetie pajamas in hopes of salvaging my toes in the morning and curled up under my coats, shivering and waiting for sleep, or morning, or something.

That's when I saw it. A few drops of water glistening on the windshield, caught precariously in the predawn light, and, you know what? They were the prettiest stars I'd ever seen.

Take that lack of forethought!

Today i realized I'm out here not necessarily because i want to cook. That was a thing for a bit I guess, maybe still is, the reason I'm out here though is because I don't know what I'm doing and there's nothing i want to do but nothing isn't an acceptable career goal. Annemarie's in grad school and teaching and doing all sorts of academic stuff. She said I was a product of post moderninst culture. Not only did I not quite catch her reference, I realized I didn't want to. I am not the academic. another door is shut for me. I had thought, a long time ago, that I'd make a damn good college professor. Now I wouldn't. I'm not what you'd call deep, at least not analytically, at least not anymore. Sort of sad, all that intellect and nothing to do with it. Maybe I was misdiagnosed as a child. Maybe there's nothing remarkable about me at all and I can actually live a mediocre existence and be okay with that. Then again, I suppose I'm asking these questions so I'm doomed to a life far different from even the most defectively inquisitive mongoloid. All that aside though, I would just like to point out that I've got NOTHIN goin for me. Not that it's a bad thing, it's just a wonder I've managed to come to this point.

I lack direction and that makes me sad. I've come to realize that direction and ambition go hand and hand at some points in one's life and to abandon one, one is abandoned by the other. I'm not sure I can live without purpose and waking up in Boulder, with a roof over my head and a couch under my ass an warm, dry blankets enough to keep the frostbite at bay, I was struck with one fundamental truth. I have no purpose. It's devastating. I don't know what to do today. Sure, I need to go out and find a way to make money but, beyond that? Money isn't a purpose. Any ideas? Anyone? Please?!?

The first half of this entry is taken from a terribly sleepy email I started writing last night (I nodded off writing it, as a matter of fact)

Two things about this trip had me more excited than anything else.

One was regional beef jerky.

The other, local radio.

I know, I know, most of you are cringing right now, especially as I go on to tell you how, not only do I have a penchant for local radio, I really like local talk radio. By and large my favorite radio, though, has to be country. The second I got outside the city I hit my seek button and, sure enough, there it was, the golden, dulcit intonations of Alan Jackson, Alabama and Wynona. Oh, banjo, sweet, sweet steel guitar, how I've missed you in my exile.

Within the first hour I'd heard that song Rosemary and I listened to my last full day in the city. 3 times. Then I heard the other 2 songs. That exist. In all the universe. Twice. In time, the monotony got to me and I started changing the station. I listened to Rush Limbaugh. I REALLY liked the guy. No, wait, that was him, HE really liked the... anyway, yeah. At some point, I think it was in Indiana, I had an opinion so I had to change the station. Then, somewhere outside of illinois, I began listening to Christian Radio. In all fairness though, I started listening to it because I thought it was Prairie Home Companion, you know how dry that Garrison Keillor can be from time to time. Just when I began to get the idea that I wasn't listening to an especially tedious Guy Noir set up, it happened. Jesus. Just like that. That's how they get you you know.

Anyway, that got me thinking about religion, just a bit, and how I'm pretty much in the perfect position to be saved right now. Come on, don't tell me you didn't see this one coming. Aimlessly casting about, engaging in reckless, directionless undertakings in the hope that, someday, somewhere, things will be better? I'm just screaming for God in my life. Or something else. Pretty much anything would do right now (NOT ZEN). And that's pretty much the thing, whether I get drunk and fall into the arms of a moderately attractive girl, seek out old friends who feel more like family or turn to some kind of higher power, I'm just resting my hat for a bit. The real question I've got to deal with, I think maybe we've all got to deal with ultimately, is: Why's the hat so damned heavy to begin with?

Dar Williams wrote a song called Iowa that starts out I've never had a
way with women but the hills of iowa make of wish that I could. now,
from my car, watching iowa undulate all around me, i can see where She's
coming from. one has to wonder though if the hypnotic rolling
landscape, the intoxicating scents of fertil land and seasonal surplus, the way
the brisk morning air embraces you like your most familiar lover, if
all this is just the magic of travel. a small illusion of speed and
distance, the drunken love at first sight that seems like such a good idea
at the time. here's to iowa, i certainly hope she looks as good when
her spell's worn off.

sorry, wrote this on my cell phone, maybe I'll fix it up a little later.

This morning
The clouds were a wool blanket,
Rough and too close to breathe.
This afternoon,
Gentle snowcapped peaks fading into wispy swirls.
Then,
Mere hints of a november morning til,
Finally,
West-bound enough,
Bright blue spilled like water,
Drowning this burnt-autumn landscape and I,
Drenched in sunlight,
Turned my face up
To laugh.

So, I guess it's begun. I find myself sitting at a rest stop in Ohio, just a few miles west of Toledo. Why Toledo, you ask? Well, my favorite Aunt always used to say "Holy Toledo", at least around my sister and I, so I figured, why not? Yeah, so maybe the full exclamation wasn't exactly "Holy Toledo... Ohio!" but you can't always have it all now can you.

I've been driving all day so I just might be a little loopy at this point but I've reached a state of road exhaustion that could only be described as ANYTHING BUT ZEN!!! (See my earlier post if that seems unnecessarily capitalized.) I've taken a whole lot of pictures on a camera that probably doesn't work and Wayne looks a whole lot worse for the wear, as a matter of fact, I think he's dying. Wayne is my cactus, by the by, I don't know if it was yesterday's cold, Thursday's heat or Wednesday's glue. Poor Wayne, too bad for him I'm just not cut out for commitment.

The Poconos were right pretty, I must say, all foliage-y and all. Then the color sort of dropped off, in favor of local color, I guess, as I got into Ohio. Home of... nothing apparently. Pretty unremarkable so far. Got through Cleveland sans disaster though so, rock on, as far as I'm concerned. May fortune smile upon me in the future as it has today. I do hope one day to add a side note: BAD THINGS HAPPEN IN CLEVELAND. It just seems too close for comfort now though, I mean <stage whisper> it's right behind me! Now comes the fun task of finding where to sleep. This well lit parking lot seems nice enough, that and it's about my only option because, and this one deserves it's own paragraph:

I know how I am going to die. Narcolepsy. That's it. You know, I'll just be driving along, do do-do and all of a sudden, a dream sequence will break in and they'll find me all mangled on the side of the road somewhere, head resting serenely atop my gently folded hands, silvery filament of drool snaking down my chin.... yeah. That or A.D.D.. You know it's bad when you're looking out the window and enjoying the beautiful scenery, trying to identify the road kill and then you realize you're driving. In fact, you're the only one in the car so there's no way you couldn't be driving, you've been driving for the past 500 miles and you just kind of FORGOT because there was something shiny on the side of the road. Who the hell let me do this?!? This was not a good idea! I shouldn't even have my license. I don't remember getting my license. Oh my god, I'm that guy from Memento, why didn't anyone tell me? Wait, maybe you did tell me. Maybe you told me and I didn't believe you because I couldn't remember who you were. Who are you? And why are you reading this?!? Oh, oh, no, for the love of God, leave me alone!!!

Or maybe I'll die of natural causes, like getting brained by a rock thrown from a riding lawn mower. And if that's what going to happen, my money says it happens in Cleveland.