6 months ago, the powers that be in this county decided to build a new, very expensive, water tower down on the main road. However, they decided to build it directly on an old mine. Now I'm no big city lawyer or fancy engineer, but I'm pretty sure this wasn't a good idea. How do I know this you ask? Well, for the past 2 months, that water tower has been gradually falling down. Italy has the leaning tower of Pisa, we have the leaning tower of Sand Gap. Every time we passed it on the road, we accelerated to an unsafe speed to try to get past the leaning tower as fast as possible, fearing that it may be our time and we might get crushed by this grand blunder of local engineers. Well, a couple weeks back, the tower was gone, fallen over I suspect, but it was no where to be seen...I wonder what happened to it.....
That's not the only odd thing that happened in Kentucky this week. Jennie, David, Kristin, Lewis, and Jesse and I went into Lexington to see a zombie parade, that's right, a zombie parade. For some reason unknown to me, a group of people decided to re-enact Michael Jackson's thriller music video in the streets of Lexington, right in front of the Kentucky theater. A Michael Jackson impersonator came out of the theater and started moondancing and whatnot, and then "Thriller" came on and all these zombies came out of nowhere! They all did the zombie dance up main street in Lexington. People lined the streets and processed next to the zombies and Jackson impersonator, they hung out of windows and leaned out of parking garages to get a glimpse of the single most bizarre parade in the history of the world. It was all together confusing....and kind of cool, in a bizarre way.
We then saw the new Wes Anderson flick, "The Darjeeling Limited" in the Kentucky Theater, the perfect venue. I would put it in the same category as "Royal Tennenbaums"; just as creative and visually impressive with better dialogue but with slightly less charm and slightly less uniqueness. It is the story of three American brothers bound to no specific destination upon the Darjeeling Limited train, with a promise to have a spiritual experience, even if it be painful, and to become brothers again. The characters were slightly unoriginal, but bore characteristics of former Anderson pictures. Francis (the oldest brother, played by Owen Wilson) is a combination of Royal T., and Kingsley Zissou. Adrian Brody who plays Peter, the middle brother, fits in perfectly with the Anderson crew. In the opening shot, he is running past Bill Murray, who is trying to catch the Darjeeling. Murray, a businessman cries out, "wait!", but is noticeably slowed down by his excessive baggage. Brody charges past him to catch the train, stands on the back platform of the caboose to see the figure of Murray sinking into the distance, almost as if Anderson is handing him the torch of Murray's role and initiating him into the gang. Peter is a combination of Chas and Richie Tennenbaum. Jason Schwartzman, co-writer of the movie, plays Jack. He is a combination of Royal and Steve Zissou, just as self absorbed and just as much of a jerk... with some Eli Cash thrown in. Each character has something to accomplish on the Darjeeling. Francis (Wilson) needs to heal physically, Peter (Brody) needs to mature and heal emotionally from the death of his father, and Jack (Schwartzman) needs to realize why he is a "bad person". I guess the moral is that we are all on our own Darjeeling Limited "spiritual journey" and that the baggage of the past, while significant, will hold you back from catching that train. I'd recommend it, I enjoyed it... though I did not enjoy the silly and unneeded sexual scene and opiate use, which I suspect were thrown in by Schwartzman, so do be weary of that...
Lastly, we played volleyball with some locals on Monday night. Kentuckians are very...VERY competitive about their sports. Thats why Kentucky Basketball (go big blue), and now football are such a huge deal. Their zeal for sports even drives some to be Reds and Bengals fans....how they do it I will never know. But anyways, 5 of us volunteers were spread out onto both sides of the net among the local regulars. They were very good. We were very bad. After a while, the locals, who were VERY into the game, started to 'compensate' for my bad play, by basically eliminating my position and moving into my territory. I tried to break the ice with some humor (you know how I do)...but that didn't go over well. See, part of the issue, I think, was that Appalachian people are weary of outsiders. This is not to say that they are unkind or not good, gracious people. They are good, and gracious. But they are also weary of outsiders. You need to share yourself with them, who you are, where you come from, who your people are (family). Then they will open up to you more, but it takes a while.
I hope you are all well, in whichever corner of the world you are in.
Cheers from South by Southeast.
quote of the day: From Lord of the Rings, Return of the King:
There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
G. K. Chesterton is my Homeboy
Today, I will just skip the blogging part of my blog and go right to the quote of the day. Courtesy of one Christopher James, this quote comes from G. K. Chesterton, who as many of you know, is my homeboy.
Suppose that a great commotion arises in the street about something, let us say a lamp-post, which many influential persons desire to pull down. A grey-clad monk, who is the spirit of the Middle Ages, is approached upon the matter, and begins to say, in the arid manner of the Schoolmen, "Let us first of all consider, my brethren, the value of Light. If Light be in itself good--" At this point he is somewhat excusably knocked down. All the people make a rush for the lamp-post, the lamp-post is down in ten minutes, and they go about congratulating each other on their unmediaeval practicality. But as things go on they do not work out so easily. Some people have pulled the lamp-post down because they wanted the electric light; some because they wanted old iron; some because they wanted darkness, because their deeds were evil. Some thought it not enough of a lamp-post, some too much; some acted because they wanted to smash municipal machinery; some because they wanted to smash something. And there is war in the night, no man knowing whom he strikes. So, gradually and inevitably, to-day, to-morrow, or the next day, there comes back the conviction that the monk was right after all, and that all depends on what is the philosophy of Light. Only what we might have discussed under the gas-lamp, we now must discuss in the dark.
--Heretics, Ch. 1 "Introductory Remarks"
Suppose that a great commotion arises in the street about something, let us say a lamp-post, which many influential persons desire to pull down. A grey-clad monk, who is the spirit of the Middle Ages, is approached upon the matter, and begins to say, in the arid manner of the Schoolmen, "Let us first of all consider, my brethren, the value of Light. If Light be in itself good--" At this point he is somewhat excusably knocked down. All the people make a rush for the lamp-post, the lamp-post is down in ten minutes, and they go about congratulating each other on their unmediaeval practicality. But as things go on they do not work out so easily. Some people have pulled the lamp-post down because they wanted the electric light; some because they wanted old iron; some because they wanted darkness, because their deeds were evil. Some thought it not enough of a lamp-post, some too much; some acted because they wanted to smash municipal machinery; some because they wanted to smash something. And there is war in the night, no man knowing whom he strikes. So, gradually and inevitably, to-day, to-morrow, or the next day, there comes back the conviction that the monk was right after all, and that all depends on what is the philosophy of Light. Only what we might have discussed under the gas-lamp, we now must discuss in the dark.
--Heretics, Ch. 1 "Introductory Remarks"
Monday, October 29, 2007
This is an Adventure
So many things have happened over the last four days that I feel I should make a list so as to not bore you.
1. Friday - All of us from the Jackson house went up to McReary Co. to see what the locals call a "moonbow". A moonbow is created only on nights of a full moon near the Cumberland Falls in southern Kentucky. The moonlight reflects off the mist of the waterfall at just the right angle to form a rainbow....a MOONBOW if you will. Moonbows occur only at the Cumberland Falls. No where else on earth do moonbows occur on a regular basis. They used to happen at Victoria falls as well (that's in Africa), but due to a recent earthquake, Southeast Kentucky has become the only place in all of God's green goodness that a moonbow happens. It looked like a wispy white band in the mist, which bore lightly all the colors of the rainbow. When the moon crept out of the clouds, the moonbow appeared in the mist. David even convinced me to dance around the moonbow with him and several of the other CAP volunteers. There were 42 of us there total dancing around the moonbow....we got some looks, but the moonbow demands dancing. Obviously.
2. Saturday during the day. We went for a hike down near the Cumberland falls. Actually, we went under it. A group of us went (unadvisedly) up the beach, until we reached the bottom of the falls. We climbed and shimmied our way up the wet rocks until we were directly under the falls. David kept urging me to come out farther, but then we both slipped and started to slide down the wet rocks toward the roaring falls. We skidded to a stop and then strategically retreated back up to the safe pathways. A woman among the crowd came up to us and said..."just tell me one thing...(dramatic pause)...what was it like under those falls?" We replied, "....misty..."
3. Saturday. After the hike, we traveled to the town of Corbin to visit the ORIGINAL KFC RESTAURANT. It was originally called the Sanders Cafe, as is marked by the bronze historical marker outside the restaurant. Stepping inside this cultural center, this unrivaled eatery, this educational experience about the birthplace of the famous 11 spices in the Colonel's magical chicken, I felt the chills go through my spine! Then I step up to the counter and gleefully shout out my order...."Number 2 please!"...Then we feasted, and what a feast! Fit for the Colonel himself really....no, actually it was just your basic KFC with a KFC museum attached. Apparently, Colonel Sanders (Harland....his first name was Harland), started making his chicken for customers of his hotel. Harland was quite the innovator, hotel keeper, restaurant owner, spice mixer, and so on. Anyways, when the new highway was built (I-75), and Harland was over 60 years old, business was taken away from the Sanders Cafe. So, being the innovator he was, Harland set out on a tour of the country, selling his pressure cooked chicken...thus KFC was born. Although, Harland later sued KFC's parent company for destroying his vision, his food, and the image of the restaurant...quite the innovator really.
4. Saturday night - We, the 12 of us from our house, along with about 20 other volunteers from the other houses went to CONTRA DANCING. This time, we knew what we were doing, and we contrad with the rest of the mountain hippies like it was no one's business. Unfortunately, my mountain woman (aka, "hold me tight" lady) was not there. But, there was plenty of gypsying going on. In one particular dance, the ladies had to go into the center to gypsy only the other ladies. Callista was my dancing partner. We always joke that in the gypsy dance, you have to stare deep into the other person's soul! So every time I spun Callista into the middle I said Git that soul now GIIIT it!. When she came back, I'd say, "did you get any souls" and she'd either come back laughing and say, "got one!" or come back looking like she just saw a ghost and say...."Oh, my no...". It was all together entertaining.
Cheers.
quote of the day: G. K. Chesterton. "The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried."
1. Friday - All of us from the Jackson house went up to McReary Co. to see what the locals call a "moonbow". A moonbow is created only on nights of a full moon near the Cumberland Falls in southern Kentucky. The moonlight reflects off the mist of the waterfall at just the right angle to form a rainbow....a MOONBOW if you will. Moonbows occur only at the Cumberland Falls. No where else on earth do moonbows occur on a regular basis. They used to happen at Victoria falls as well (that's in Africa), but due to a recent earthquake, Southeast Kentucky has become the only place in all of God's green goodness that a moonbow happens. It looked like a wispy white band in the mist, which bore lightly all the colors of the rainbow. When the moon crept out of the clouds, the moonbow appeared in the mist. David even convinced me to dance around the moonbow with him and several of the other CAP volunteers. There were 42 of us there total dancing around the moonbow....we got some looks, but the moonbow demands dancing. Obviously.
2. Saturday during the day. We went for a hike down near the Cumberland falls. Actually, we went under it. A group of us went (unadvisedly) up the beach, until we reached the bottom of the falls. We climbed and shimmied our way up the wet rocks until we were directly under the falls. David kept urging me to come out farther, but then we both slipped and started to slide down the wet rocks toward the roaring falls. We skidded to a stop and then strategically retreated back up to the safe pathways. A woman among the crowd came up to us and said..."just tell me one thing...(dramatic pause)...what was it like under those falls?" We replied, "....misty..."
3. Saturday. After the hike, we traveled to the town of Corbin to visit the ORIGINAL KFC RESTAURANT. It was originally called the Sanders Cafe, as is marked by the bronze historical marker outside the restaurant. Stepping inside this cultural center, this unrivaled eatery, this educational experience about the birthplace of the famous 11 spices in the Colonel's magical chicken, I felt the chills go through my spine! Then I step up to the counter and gleefully shout out my order...."Number 2 please!"...Then we feasted, and what a feast! Fit for the Colonel himself really....no, actually it was just your basic KFC with a KFC museum attached. Apparently, Colonel Sanders (Harland....his first name was Harland), started making his chicken for customers of his hotel. Harland was quite the innovator, hotel keeper, restaurant owner, spice mixer, and so on. Anyways, when the new highway was built (I-75), and Harland was over 60 years old, business was taken away from the Sanders Cafe. So, being the innovator he was, Harland set out on a tour of the country, selling his pressure cooked chicken...thus KFC was born. Although, Harland later sued KFC's parent company for destroying his vision, his food, and the image of the restaurant...quite the innovator really.
4. Saturday night - We, the 12 of us from our house, along with about 20 other volunteers from the other houses went to CONTRA DANCING. This time, we knew what we were doing, and we contrad with the rest of the mountain hippies like it was no one's business. Unfortunately, my mountain woman (aka, "hold me tight" lady) was not there. But, there was plenty of gypsying going on. In one particular dance, the ladies had to go into the center to gypsy only the other ladies. Callista was my dancing partner. We always joke that in the gypsy dance, you have to stare deep into the other person's soul! So every time I spun Callista into the middle I said Git that soul now GIIIT it!. When she came back, I'd say, "did you get any souls" and she'd either come back laughing and say, "got one!" or come back looking like she just saw a ghost and say...."Oh, my no...". It was all together entertaining.
Cheers.
quote of the day: G. K. Chesterton. "The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried."
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
I Can Always Hear a Freight Train, Baby if I Listen Real Hard.
It has not stopped raining since it started raining on Sunday night. 3 straight days of rain. David and I have been working on a new job site with the group from Notre Dame. We are working on the job you would least like to do in the rain other than roofs; underpinning. Underpinning is 50 pound sheets of concrete that go at the base of trailers to keep moisture, wind, and rodents out from under the trailer; it is an insulator, aesthetically pleasing, and a pain in the arse to install. We have to dig a 6-20 inch trench all around the trailer in the steady cold rain which basically turns the work site into one huge mudslide. So, David, myself, Erin (from ND), and Nate (from ND) have been digging these trenches, driving in posts, cutting the concrete boards, and generally sliding around and getting filthy for the past 3 days. We have been coated in mud and completely soaked every day.
But, I really don't care about all that foolishness. Do you know why I don't care? We are working for the sweetest woman, named Snowy. She has such a quiet strength and peaceful mirth to her. She is probably about 60 or so, and wears long jean skirts and sweaters on these cold, damp fall days. She doesn't ask for much and worries about us working in the rain. Today she made us chili for lunch and insisted we come in on the clean floor to eat. We sent in the cleanest person so as to not coat her home in mud, but if we had all trampled in there and made a mess of the floor, I don't think she would've minded or spoken ill of it. She is a gracious host and a loving woman. You can just feel it in a home when loving people live there, its almost built into the walls, seeping out of the oven like baking bread.
Now for a series of random rainy day thoughts.
-"Raining in Baltimore" by Counting Crows is the best rainy day driving song.
-There is no way Colorado should be in the World Series
-Top 7 Pet Peeves while at music shows
1. People asking me to mosh. I do not mosh, neither should you.
2. People singing along to my favorite songs
3. When lead singers say "thanks for coming out tonight"
4. When crowds bring out their cell phones during slow songs and wave them all around like lighters...its almost a testament to lame music.
5. Some smoke is necessary to a show...too much is annoying
6. Dave Matthew's Band Fans
7. When bands can't play their own music.
-It is better to burn out than to fade away.
-I miss Daily Mass. I miss frisbee. I miss coffee shops. I miss baking things (I do not miss the hours). I miss marching band. I miss my napping couch at Fever. I miss beer. I miss the Blind Pig.
-You don't really *need* to shower every day.
-Everyone made such a stink when vinyl albums went away because they all had to get rid of their turntables. But when CDs switched to mp3's no one seemed to care or complain. Which I find kind of odd. You'd think people would make more noise because it is a much bigger change, especially because the media is going from something tangible to intangible, and mp3s restrict music to those who can afford mp3 players. But no one seems to really care. Maybe it's because mp3s are neat.
-English majors always overuse semicolons
Cheers mates.
quote of the day: From G. K. Chesterton's "Ballad of the White Horse"
Ride through the silent earthquake lands,
Wide as a waste is wide,
Across these days like deserts, when
Pride and a little scratching pen
Have dried and split the hearts of men,
Heart of the heroes, ride.
Up through an empty house of stars,
Being what heart you are,
Up the inhuman steeps of space
As on a staircase go in grace,
Carrying the firelight on your face
Beyond the loneliest star.
Take these; in memory of the hour
We strayed a space from home
And saw the smoke-hued hamlets, quaint
With Westland king and Westland saint,
And watched the western glory faint
Along the road to Frome.
But, I really don't care about all that foolishness. Do you know why I don't care? We are working for the sweetest woman, named Snowy. She has such a quiet strength and peaceful mirth to her. She is probably about 60 or so, and wears long jean skirts and sweaters on these cold, damp fall days. She doesn't ask for much and worries about us working in the rain. Today she made us chili for lunch and insisted we come in on the clean floor to eat. We sent in the cleanest person so as to not coat her home in mud, but if we had all trampled in there and made a mess of the floor, I don't think she would've minded or spoken ill of it. She is a gracious host and a loving woman. You can just feel it in a home when loving people live there, its almost built into the walls, seeping out of the oven like baking bread.
Now for a series of random rainy day thoughts.
-"Raining in Baltimore" by Counting Crows is the best rainy day driving song.
-There is no way Colorado should be in the World Series
-Top 7 Pet Peeves while at music shows
1. People asking me to mosh. I do not mosh, neither should you.
2. People singing along to my favorite songs
3. When lead singers say "thanks for coming out tonight"
4. When crowds bring out their cell phones during slow songs and wave them all around like lighters...its almost a testament to lame music.
5. Some smoke is necessary to a show...too much is annoying
6. Dave Matthew's Band Fans
7. When bands can't play their own music.
-It is better to burn out than to fade away.
-I miss Daily Mass. I miss frisbee. I miss coffee shops. I miss baking things (I do not miss the hours). I miss marching band. I miss my napping couch at Fever. I miss beer. I miss the Blind Pig.
-You don't really *need* to shower every day.
-Everyone made such a stink when vinyl albums went away because they all had to get rid of their turntables. But when CDs switched to mp3's no one seemed to care or complain. Which I find kind of odd. You'd think people would make more noise because it is a much bigger change, especially because the media is going from something tangible to intangible, and mp3s restrict music to those who can afford mp3 players. But no one seems to really care. Maybe it's because mp3s are neat.
-English majors always overuse semicolons
Cheers mates.
quote of the day: From G. K. Chesterton's "Ballad of the White Horse"
Ride through the silent earthquake lands,
Wide as a waste is wide,
Across these days like deserts, when
Pride and a little scratching pen
Have dried and split the hearts of men,
Heart of the heroes, ride.
Up through an empty house of stars,
Being what heart you are,
Up the inhuman steeps of space
As on a staircase go in grace,
Carrying the firelight on your face
Beyond the loneliest star.
Take these; in memory of the hour
We strayed a space from home
And saw the smoke-hued hamlets, quaint
With Westland king and Westland saint,
And watched the western glory faint
Along the road to Frome.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Green and Grey
The thing is, Louisville is like a big city in one way, but in another way, it is still in Kentucky. This weekend Laura, Jennie, Callista, and I all ventured to Louisville for the Louisville half marathon and, unknown to us, one of the best shows I have ever seen.
We arrived in Louisville around 3 in the afternoon on Saturday at the Holiday Inn on Broadway, a fine establishment to be sure. I went up to the front desk to check in.
"Are you with the Irish?" the man asked.
"...in a way...I am Irish"
"Oh no, there is an Irish conference in town, but if you're not here for that, surely you are in town for Micheal Bolton, yes"
I half thought he was joking, so I chuckled a bit, "Oh, heh, is he in town?"
The man suddenly became very serious. "Yes, and tickets are going for 90 dollars each"
(Just to set your minds at ease now, we did NOT see Mr. Bolton, but for me, when he plays 'when a man loves a woman', let me just say I get the chills)
"Actually," I said, "I'm here for the half marathon"
"Oh, do we have a half marathon here in Louisville?..."
Naturally, this concerned me. This man, who was most likely as up to current events in Loo'ville as he was enthusiastic about Michael Bolton's 'art', didn't know about the race....this was interesting. Maybe I just imagined the whole thing and this race didn't even exist. So, we headed down to 'race headquarters' which was really just a small Ramada Inn. Now, in Chicago and St. Louis, the pre race conferences were held in huge convention centers with sponsors, free stuff, thousands of people. Loo'ville's headquarters consisted of 2 tables in a small room with no more than 14 people in that room. We have a little saying here; "TIK - This is Kentucky". There would be up to 700 people in the race....I'm used to the 40,000 in Chicago or the 10,000 in St. Louis...it was to be an entirely different experience than I am used to.
Now, we were informed by one of our roommates that Nickel Creek, one of my favorite bands, would be in Loo'ville on Saturday night. And it just so happened that the theater they were to perform in, the Brown Theater, was 1 block from our hotel. We called to see if there were tickets. Of course, there were not, sold out for weeks. Apparently, after more than 10 years of making some of the most genuine music there is, NC was calling it quits, at least for now. They are 3 members; a fiddle, a mandolin, and guitar. They mingle traditional bluegrass harmony in voice and speed of picking, with earthy tones, genuine themes, and incredibly talented and spirited enthusiasm. As Weezer defined my musical ideal in high school, 2 bands absorbed that role in college; Mason Jennings and Nickel Creek. At any rate, we were calling for hours over and over trying to get tickets. We decided to go to mass at the Cathedral of the Assumption in Loo'ville. The Cathedral was beautiful, as was the mass. After mass was over, we decided to try the box office one more time to get tickets. And sure enough, just as we called, 5 tickets opened up. It was just meant to be. The concert did not disappoint. Sara, Chris, and John are INCREDIBLY talented musicians, which always makes for a good show. They are a band that incorporates improvisation into their songs well in a perfectly performed show. The show ended with an a capella version of "Why Should the Fire Die", one of their best songs, at the front of the stage, with the crowd as quiet as possible. It was one of the best shows I've ever been to. Hands down.
The half marathon was...much less perfect than the show. From the start of the race, I knew it would be an interesting experience. Usually, a gun or an air horn marks the start of a race. But TIK, baby. This race was started by an old man, who said, "Uhhh...go?....!" The first 2 miles were held on a bike path that was only about 6 feet wide, so it was slow going, with many inexperienced runners slowing up the front of the pack. Then, there was no water at miles 6 or 10, more bike trails, poorly marked mile markers, an end that was uphill for the last half mile... and so on. But, the shining bright spot for me was my team of cheerers. Jennie, Callista, and Laura made signs that said, "go HANDY" and "Run for Rabies" which were hilarious! My #1 fear for this race was that it was going to be a solitary event. There would be no Mom and Dad, no Pham, John, Amanda, Dan, Lynn, no dozens of supporters around crowded streets. But, my fellow volunteers came through in a big way, showing perfectly the benefits of community and fellowship. I finished in 1 hour and 59 minutes...not bad...not great, but I was happy.
Before leaving town, I had to get a Guinness. So we stopped at a small Irish pub and got beer and burgers...the perfect reward for a hard race. This half was far more painful that I anticipated. I pulled my calf near the end of it, and because there were maybe...100 people total watching the race, much of the motivation had to come from within, which always accents the current painful situation. But luckily I had the best solution; Guinness and burgers...that a 3 hour nap. But, it's good to be back here at home and to get back to work. We have a group from Notre Dame here for the week. I get to lead a crew doing some underpinning on a house....I also get to cook breakfast on Tuesday and try my best Wheatie impression, which I am greatly looking forward to.
Cheers.
Quote of the Day: This is from orientation, 4 weeks ago. Raul, one of my friends from the east side of CAP, saw my Immaculate Conception coffee mug with the Virgin Mary on it and he pointed at it and said, "word to our Mother"....perfect.
We arrived in Louisville around 3 in the afternoon on Saturday at the Holiday Inn on Broadway, a fine establishment to be sure. I went up to the front desk to check in.
"Are you with the Irish?" the man asked.
"...in a way...I am Irish"
"Oh no, there is an Irish conference in town, but if you're not here for that, surely you are in town for Micheal Bolton, yes"
I half thought he was joking, so I chuckled a bit, "Oh, heh, is he in town?"
The man suddenly became very serious. "Yes, and tickets are going for 90 dollars each"
(Just to set your minds at ease now, we did NOT see Mr. Bolton, but for me, when he plays 'when a man loves a woman', let me just say I get the chills)
"Actually," I said, "I'm here for the half marathon"
"Oh, do we have a half marathon here in Louisville?..."
Naturally, this concerned me. This man, who was most likely as up to current events in Loo'ville as he was enthusiastic about Michael Bolton's 'art', didn't know about the race....this was interesting. Maybe I just imagined the whole thing and this race didn't even exist. So, we headed down to 'race headquarters' which was really just a small Ramada Inn. Now, in Chicago and St. Louis, the pre race conferences were held in huge convention centers with sponsors, free stuff, thousands of people. Loo'ville's headquarters consisted of 2 tables in a small room with no more than 14 people in that room. We have a little saying here; "TIK - This is Kentucky". There would be up to 700 people in the race....I'm used to the 40,000 in Chicago or the 10,000 in St. Louis...it was to be an entirely different experience than I am used to.
Now, we were informed by one of our roommates that Nickel Creek, one of my favorite bands, would be in Loo'ville on Saturday night. And it just so happened that the theater they were to perform in, the Brown Theater, was 1 block from our hotel. We called to see if there were tickets. Of course, there were not, sold out for weeks. Apparently, after more than 10 years of making some of the most genuine music there is, NC was calling it quits, at least for now. They are 3 members; a fiddle, a mandolin, and guitar. They mingle traditional bluegrass harmony in voice and speed of picking, with earthy tones, genuine themes, and incredibly talented and spirited enthusiasm. As Weezer defined my musical ideal in high school, 2 bands absorbed that role in college; Mason Jennings and Nickel Creek. At any rate, we were calling for hours over and over trying to get tickets. We decided to go to mass at the Cathedral of the Assumption in Loo'ville. The Cathedral was beautiful, as was the mass. After mass was over, we decided to try the box office one more time to get tickets. And sure enough, just as we called, 5 tickets opened up. It was just meant to be. The concert did not disappoint. Sara, Chris, and John are INCREDIBLY talented musicians, which always makes for a good show. They are a band that incorporates improvisation into their songs well in a perfectly performed show. The show ended with an a capella version of "Why Should the Fire Die", one of their best songs, at the front of the stage, with the crowd as quiet as possible. It was one of the best shows I've ever been to. Hands down.
The half marathon was...much less perfect than the show. From the start of the race, I knew it would be an interesting experience. Usually, a gun or an air horn marks the start of a race. But TIK, baby. This race was started by an old man, who said, "Uhhh...go?....!" The first 2 miles were held on a bike path that was only about 6 feet wide, so it was slow going, with many inexperienced runners slowing up the front of the pack. Then, there was no water at miles 6 or 10, more bike trails, poorly marked mile markers, an end that was uphill for the last half mile... and so on. But, the shining bright spot for me was my team of cheerers. Jennie, Callista, and Laura made signs that said, "go HANDY" and "Run for Rabies" which were hilarious! My #1 fear for this race was that it was going to be a solitary event. There would be no Mom and Dad, no Pham, John, Amanda, Dan, Lynn, no dozens of supporters around crowded streets. But, my fellow volunteers came through in a big way, showing perfectly the benefits of community and fellowship. I finished in 1 hour and 59 minutes...not bad...not great, but I was happy.
Before leaving town, I had to get a Guinness. So we stopped at a small Irish pub and got beer and burgers...the perfect reward for a hard race. This half was far more painful that I anticipated. I pulled my calf near the end of it, and because there were maybe...100 people total watching the race, much of the motivation had to come from within, which always accents the current painful situation. But luckily I had the best solution; Guinness and burgers...that a 3 hour nap. But, it's good to be back here at home and to get back to work. We have a group from Notre Dame here for the week. I get to lead a crew doing some underpinning on a house....I also get to cook breakfast on Tuesday and try my best Wheatie impression, which I am greatly looking forward to.
Cheers.
Quote of the Day: This is from orientation, 4 weeks ago. Raul, one of my friends from the east side of CAP, saw my Immaculate Conception coffee mug with the Virgin Mary on it and he pointed at it and said, "word to our Mother"....perfect.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Wish You Were Here.
Here are some photos from where I am...
3rd down: Our truck for housing...named Black Betty. Black Betty is a hunk of crap but we love her anyways. She struggles to make it up the many hills of Kentucky, but with a little sweet talk and a few light slams every now and again, she does it.
Bottom: A view of the Kentucky River, deep in the backwoods. As Jesse and I were driving to a job, we stopped and climbed down a rock face to get this picture, so you had better appreciate it.
2nd down: My tool belt, so I can do my best carpenter impression....Ross, our crew leader and local hero, tells us that he's going to make a carpenter out of Joe, Monica, and I even if he has to marry us to a carpenter woman (or man). It just so happens that there is a family that goes by the name of Carpenter in a local town. Joe's carpenter woman is named Hester, Monica's carpenter man is Logan, and my carpenter woman is Buhla...or Beulah...I'm not sure of the spelling, sorry baby. When ever Joe and I do something really well, we say, "I don't need no carpenter woman!!!" But when ever we make a mistake, we say"...better give Buhla or Hester a call and tell her I'll be over soon." We asked Ross if our carpenter women were attractive, and he said, "oh son, prettier than a speckled pup." If anyone has ever seen a speckled pup, please let me know because I greatly desire to see this fabled creature.
Top: Leaves.
Yesterday, I went with anther work crew and so Joe, David, and Ross (our captain) were at the work site by themselves. Today, as we approached the work site, Joe said, "I will NOT be the first one to go to the door," as they all had whimsical/terrified/giggling faces.
Apparently, what went down was this, according to David: Ross had allegedly gone to the bathroom, or at least inside the house for a good 10 minutes. THEN David went to go to the bathroom, but the toilet was ROYALLY plugged with you can guess what. BUT, according to Ross, our crew leader and possible culprit, David was the perpetrator, using a mighty #2 to FANTASTICALLY plug the hell out of the toilet. Also reported by Ross was that David plugged the men's restroom at the gas station down the street, which can be confirmed by many eye witnesses.
But regardless, the plugging was so abominable, so fantastically vile, Ross had to make a special trip to the building supply store to get an industrial strength plunger to remedy the situation. "It's bad, real bad," Ross reported which was later confirmed from all who viewed (and smelt) the situation. The new super plunger did "fix" the situation, although after a sight like that, I doubt any of us will ever be the same.
Now, as chief investigator, I tend to think that it was Ross, because the evidence presented thus far points to him. But on the other hand, if Ross did in fact do such a thing, he would probably proudly claim it and have a good laugh. And, David is quite suspicious...though he did say that if he was blamed for this he would drive back to Florida right this minute.
Anyways, the search continues...penalties will be made...and enforced.
Cheers dearies.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Sing a Long Long Winded song. I Would be Content to Hum Along
First, I must apologize to all of my Lord of the Rings fans out there as this is my first title that does not have a LoTR reference. I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are an evil.
Evidence that I now live in Kentucky:
-I just grew a 3 month beard... no one noticed or thought it unattractive.
-3 Days ago, in my car, I passed up a dog running in the right lane (going about 3 mph), a cow, and a heard of goats all on the same road.
-I travel 35 minutes to the nearest store (a Wal-Mart)
-Christian rock and Bluegrass/Country make up about 95 percent of radio stations and the closest thing to music I like is "Delila"
-2 stores in the nearest town; Family Dollar and Dollar General
- I was lucky enough to see my mountain woman (aka "hold me tighter" lady) at another contra dance event...no words were exchanged...or need be exchanged.
-It just this week came down out of the upper 80's, the winter coats were broken out...as were my long sleeve t shirts.
-today i counted 4...yes 4 pickup trucks with wheels that were as high as my chest.
Over the weekend, we had a retreat with all 55 volunteers from around CAP. And, it was actually really fun; got to see some of my favorite people for 3 days, hang out, and whatnot. But, probably the highlight for me was a 'praise and worship' session in the mornings. For those of you who don't know P and W, is kind of like a Christian jam session where people sing as a form of prayer. Usually, I do not like P and W (with the exception of K mass of course) but today it was really fun. We even sang the "light the fire" song...which has male and female call and answer parts....and I was the only guy who knew it. So I rocked the hell out of it. It reminded me of the snow day last year when a bunch of us from around fever drank hot chocolate, sang P and W and just hung out with nothing to do and nowhere to be.
Today I made some French pastries for my house mates. It was the first time I had baked since retiring from the bakery in the late Spring. I even re-created my trademark "baker's delight" drink, which consists of hot chocolate, chocolate sauce, whole mile, a 1/4 cup of sugar, coffee, and whole milk....its what makes baking possible. But I did want to tell you something. There is a great great difference between baking for those you do not know and those you love. AND once you start to understand the Christian principle of loving those you do not know...or even those you do not like.... you will begin to understand why I am in Kentucky at all. Sorry to get so deep so early, but I've had some coffee.
Cheers mates.
now listening to: The Shins - Chutes Too Narrow
now reading: The Lord of the Rings (2 Towers) and James Joyce "Dubliners"...(cram it Dave)
now eating: cherry puff pastries topped with a vanilla glaze.
Quote of the moment: "I am nothing of a builder, but here I dreamt I was an architect"
-The Decemberists
Evidence that I now live in Kentucky:
-I just grew a 3 month beard... no one noticed or thought it unattractive.
-3 Days ago, in my car, I passed up a dog running in the right lane (going about 3 mph), a cow, and a heard of goats all on the same road.
-I travel 35 minutes to the nearest store (a Wal-Mart)
-Christian rock and Bluegrass/Country make up about 95 percent of radio stations and the closest thing to music I like is "Delila"
-2 stores in the nearest town; Family Dollar and Dollar General
- I was lucky enough to see my mountain woman (aka "hold me tighter" lady) at another contra dance event...no words were exchanged...or need be exchanged.
-It just this week came down out of the upper 80's, the winter coats were broken out...as were my long sleeve t shirts.
-today i counted 4...yes 4 pickup trucks with wheels that were as high as my chest.
Over the weekend, we had a retreat with all 55 volunteers from around CAP. And, it was actually really fun; got to see some of my favorite people for 3 days, hang out, and whatnot. But, probably the highlight for me was a 'praise and worship' session in the mornings. For those of you who don't know P and W, is kind of like a Christian jam session where people sing as a form of prayer. Usually, I do not like P and W (with the exception of K mass of course) but today it was really fun. We even sang the "light the fire" song...which has male and female call and answer parts....and I was the only guy who knew it. So I rocked the hell out of it. It reminded me of the snow day last year when a bunch of us from around fever drank hot chocolate, sang P and W and just hung out with nothing to do and nowhere to be.
Today I made some French pastries for my house mates. It was the first time I had baked since retiring from the bakery in the late Spring. I even re-created my trademark "baker's delight" drink, which consists of hot chocolate, chocolate sauce, whole mile, a 1/4 cup of sugar, coffee, and whole milk....its what makes baking possible. But I did want to tell you something. There is a great great difference between baking for those you do not know and those you love. AND once you start to understand the Christian principle of loving those you do not know...or even those you do not like.... you will begin to understand why I am in Kentucky at all. Sorry to get so deep so early, but I've had some coffee.
Cheers mates.
now listening to: The Shins - Chutes Too Narrow
now reading: The Lord of the Rings (2 Towers) and James Joyce "Dubliners"...(cram it Dave)
now eating: cherry puff pastries topped with a vanilla glaze.
Quote of the moment: "I am nothing of a builder, but here I dreamt I was an architect"
-The Decemberists
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
One Part of Your Journey is Over, Another Begins
David is wearing pink fuzzy slippers he found under his bed, most likely left from a previous volunteer, and is wandering around the house. Nate is drinking some sort of protein drink. Jenny is working overtime on her lesson plans. Laura is running. Jesse is walking around the house brushing his teeth. Joe is making coffee and singing. And I'm writing. We all have our trademark activities we do everyday. Our routines do not consist of checking emails over and over, nor of sitting in gridlock, or walking to and from class. Rather, our routines consist of driving to the building supply store, reading on the porch, showering off sawdust, loading up the chop saw and saws all, and prayer.
But, some days are not routine. This week we have closed 2 jobs, which is quite a big deal. Some jobs take months to complete, so closing them out is a rarity and a great source of joy. Both jobs have been lingering since workfest...last March, when college students, including a group of us from U of I, came down in a housing blitz of the area to volunteer for spring break. One of the jobs we closed today I also worked on in March, when I was but a lowly honors Psychology student and baker.
The family looked at me a little sideways and narrow-eyed as they recognized me...maybe.
"Have you worked here before?"
"Oh yeah," I replied, "In March I was here and did that roof"
"Huh, you were fatter then....and had less of a beard when last you'uns were here"
"...yes, yes I suppose that's true."
Nate and I were debating where to eat lunch today. He suggested that we eat lunch in the truck, but I suggested that we eat with Harry, the man we were working for. Nate was wondering if Harry would talk our ears off. I (knowing he would) said, "naw, it's going to be really quiet." It wasn't, much to my delight. The best part of the conversation was when Harry lifted up his shirt to show us where he had colon surgery, which, of course, was why he did not want any of our lunches.
But, I wanted to throw one idea out there for your consideration. Possibly worse than the economic poverty of many is the poverty of spirit, both in this area and world-wide. How many people suffer immeasurably from loneliness, depression, or worse, both as a result of economic depravity and other reasons of course? Now, I'm not suggesting that Harry is suffering in this way, he seems a light hearted man. But, sometimes, more than siding or fixing some leaky gutters, a conversation or a smile helps someone immeasurably more than any dollar amount. So, we try to provide both as we can. Just a thought for you.
For your consideration from what I'm reading now:
There is no end to the dissolution of ideas, the destruction of all tests of truth, that has become possible since men abandoned the attempt to keep a central and civilized Truth, to contain all truths and trace out and refute all errors. Since then, each group has taken one truth at a time and spent the time in turning it into a falsehood. We have had nothing but movements; or in other words, monomanias. But the Church is not a movement but a meeting-place; the trysting-place of all the truths in the world.
-G. K. Chesterton
But, some days are not routine. This week we have closed 2 jobs, which is quite a big deal. Some jobs take months to complete, so closing them out is a rarity and a great source of joy. Both jobs have been lingering since workfest...last March, when college students, including a group of us from U of I, came down in a housing blitz of the area to volunteer for spring break. One of the jobs we closed today I also worked on in March, when I was but a lowly honors Psychology student and baker.
The family looked at me a little sideways and narrow-eyed as they recognized me...maybe.
"Have you worked here before?"
"Oh yeah," I replied, "In March I was here and did that roof"
"Huh, you were fatter then....and had less of a beard when last you'uns were here"
"...yes, yes I suppose that's true."
Nate and I were debating where to eat lunch today. He suggested that we eat lunch in the truck, but I suggested that we eat with Harry, the man we were working for. Nate was wondering if Harry would talk our ears off. I (knowing he would) said, "naw, it's going to be really quiet." It wasn't, much to my delight. The best part of the conversation was when Harry lifted up his shirt to show us where he had colon surgery, which, of course, was why he did not want any of our lunches.
But, I wanted to throw one idea out there for your consideration. Possibly worse than the economic poverty of many is the poverty of spirit, both in this area and world-wide. How many people suffer immeasurably from loneliness, depression, or worse, both as a result of economic depravity and other reasons of course? Now, I'm not suggesting that Harry is suffering in this way, he seems a light hearted man. But, sometimes, more than siding or fixing some leaky gutters, a conversation or a smile helps someone immeasurably more than any dollar amount. So, we try to provide both as we can. Just a thought for you.
For your consideration from what I'm reading now:
There is no end to the dissolution of ideas, the destruction of all tests of truth, that has become possible since men abandoned the attempt to keep a central and civilized Truth, to contain all truths and trace out and refute all errors. Since then, each group has taken one truth at a time and spent the time in turning it into a falsehood. We have had nothing but movements; or in other words, monomanias. But the Church is not a movement but a meeting-place; the trysting-place of all the truths in the world.
-G. K. Chesterton
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Between the Mountains and the Sea
Time moves very strangely here in Kentucky. Most of my days are filled with much the same as the previous day. Wake up, 7 a.m. Leave for Owsley County at 7:45. Work until 5. Dinner at 6. Devotion after dinner. Then running or basketball and reading until bed. But time definitely moves freer here than in other places of the wide world. The mist over the mountains is the perfect symbol of this very point. Once you enter into the foggy valleys of the early morning bluegrass, you are absorbed into the elderly mountains. The haze hangs in the air between the trees and over the narrow roads, like a grey beard over the shoulders of an old man. The mountains seem to tell you that they are much older than you, have been carved since the dawn of time and you are just passing through like countless others and just like countless others will after you are gone.
Anyway, where was I, oh right, time. It's almost like life has stopped outside of Kentucky for me and that it will pause until I return. I seem to be oblivious that another NFK is right around the corner, Nationals draws nearer every day, people are growing up and growing old and all those I hold dear have fruitful lives outside of what I can now observe. I almost feel like I have passed into another realm....a very strange and wonderful one, yes, but far from those I love. Such is the nature of growing up and leaving home, but it does contain a certain element of sorrow, though it is mingled with joy as well.
I'm trying to think of something funny to throw ya'll but things have been mostly surreal as of late. For example, I always wear a 'fuel belt' when I go running on long runs. It looks like a super hero belt with 6 mini water bottles attached. And for some reason, it makes people so confused and shocked. People will honk at me, yell out the window, marvel at the fuel belt like I'm either a strange sweaty, portly super hero or an escapee from the loony bin. But anyways, I was on a long run the other day, about 10 miles, and I had to go to the bathroom...quite badly. So I stopped at a art center, or artisan center (whatever that means). I approached the woman at the front desk and quickly said, "Hi, do you have a bathroom?"
"What the heck is that there?" she replied while contorting her face like it pained her to be so confused at such a contraption.
"It's a fuel belt...for water, look do you have a bathroom," I hurriedly replied.
"It's down there," followed by a vague waving motion like a flight attendant pointing out the exits on a plane.
So, I proceeded down to another woman, who looked at me, head askew.
"Hi, I really really need a bathroom, time is of the essence." I said, before she could ask about the belt.
"What...what are those, mini water bottles"
"Yes. Mini water bottles. For water. For runs. Speaking of which, do you have the bathroom."
"Yeah, it's down there."
Then I found it. But the main point I'm trying to make here is that, for the most part I do not fit in here, and it's quite obvious. I can fool most people with the beard, but once I talk, something to the tune of, "good day gentlemen," the farce is over and I'm spotted as an outsider. I try to fit in, in order to share with people but most of the time, I just listen to other people talk and try not to be too awkward. Anyways, maybe some day I'll be able to sit at the building supply store and chat and spit backer with the rest, but until then, it's awkward water bottle man, AWAY!
cheers my darlings.
quote of the day, from LoTR:
The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.
Anyway, where was I, oh right, time. It's almost like life has stopped outside of Kentucky for me and that it will pause until I return. I seem to be oblivious that another NFK is right around the corner, Nationals draws nearer every day, people are growing up and growing old and all those I hold dear have fruitful lives outside of what I can now observe. I almost feel like I have passed into another realm....a very strange and wonderful one, yes, but far from those I love. Such is the nature of growing up and leaving home, but it does contain a certain element of sorrow, though it is mingled with joy as well.
I'm trying to think of something funny to throw ya'll but things have been mostly surreal as of late. For example, I always wear a 'fuel belt' when I go running on long runs. It looks like a super hero belt with 6 mini water bottles attached. And for some reason, it makes people so confused and shocked. People will honk at me, yell out the window, marvel at the fuel belt like I'm either a strange sweaty, portly super hero or an escapee from the loony bin. But anyways, I was on a long run the other day, about 10 miles, and I had to go to the bathroom...quite badly. So I stopped at a art center, or artisan center (whatever that means). I approached the woman at the front desk and quickly said, "Hi, do you have a bathroom?"
"What the heck is that there?" she replied while contorting her face like it pained her to be so confused at such a contraption.
"It's a fuel belt...for water, look do you have a bathroom," I hurriedly replied.
"It's down there," followed by a vague waving motion like a flight attendant pointing out the exits on a plane.
So, I proceeded down to another woman, who looked at me, head askew.
"Hi, I really really need a bathroom, time is of the essence." I said, before she could ask about the belt.
"What...what are those, mini water bottles"
"Yes. Mini water bottles. For water. For runs. Speaking of which, do you have the bathroom."
"Yeah, it's down there."
Then I found it. But the main point I'm trying to make here is that, for the most part I do not fit in here, and it's quite obvious. I can fool most people with the beard, but once I talk, something to the tune of, "good day gentlemen," the farce is over and I'm spotted as an outsider. I try to fit in, in order to share with people but most of the time, I just listen to other people talk and try not to be too awkward. Anyways, maybe some day I'll be able to sit at the building supply store and chat and spit backer with the rest, but until then, it's awkward water bottle man, AWAY!
cheers my darlings.
quote of the day, from LoTR:
The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.
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