What a day, what a day! The BIG election is tomorrow, the one we've been told is the most historic of our lifetimes. The 2000 election was, looking back, more infamous than famous, but certainly historic; we just didn’t know that going into the polls. We damn sure knew it when we woke up.

For the first time in my life, and against all common sense, I volunteered for a presidential candidate on Saturday. My friend Kim was called up to come in and Canvass for Obama and told to bring a friend, which turned out to be me. I had no idea what I'd be doing, but since I support the guy, and since it's historic, and since it IS my duty to keep the process rolling, I did it.

Canvassing, for the uninitiated, is a word for "going door to door spreading the word" That's my definition, anyway.

Right around 4pm, we walked into Obama Headquarters downtown. I took it as a great sign that amidst the hubub of the shifts changing, canvassers coming in and going out, I say two friendly faces: Mike and Gloria. They'd just come in from canvassing and gave us some hints for the road. They canvassed eons ago for the environment and were old hands at this. I've sold candy, magazines, and popcorn door to door...between the Cub Scouts and High school, I did a lot of selling, and 2 years ago I manned the phones for a friend/candidate, so this was not rocket science.

We went out with our lead, Linh Ngyen, to the part of Southeastern Raleigh between Shaw University and New Bern Avenue. For the uninitiated, this is a part of town "awaiting Gentrification" in the same way a burnt out home is “a fixer upper" to a realtor. We did run into some inebriated characters, but all were smiling, friendly and helpful. We discovered that Linn, even though he works in transportation, is easily turned around.

So, there I was, the only native-born American in a group canvassing for Obama, the first African American to get this close to the Presidency, with a naturalized citizen from Viet Nam, and a Canadian expatriate awaiting her Green card, in a depressed or disadvantaged area of the city. Am I a Freaking liberal or what? If we'd sang "Kumbaya" it would have been perfect.

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Okay, I hate my job, but as Guido the Killer Pimp said in 'Risky Business", "In a sluggish economy, never fuck with another man's livelyhood"

In other words, I've prepared myself for the reality that I'm not going to get another job during the holidays, probably not until the economy is better. We shall see.

My current job was supposed to hold a conference in The Grove Park inn next March. Now, the wife has been dying to go there for years, but I refrained from telling her in case I changed jobs. Well, last Friday, over a Great dinner at Poole's diner, I told her. I feared she'd hate it because I'd be busy at work during the day with no time for her. Not that I'm selfish, but who wants to be stranded alone in a hotel waiting for a spouse?

My wife, that's who.

Telling her we'd be going to The Grove Park Inn was tantamount to telling a child "Santa brought you that pony you've wanted for years!"

She's go to a spa, she said. She'd walk, she'd read, she'd find something, surely!

Great! I was relieved, and it was sort of nice that my job, not my dream job by any means, had a benefit for us both. I was, that night, "the man"

So, what news do I hear this morning? Due to the budget cuts, we are no longer going to the Grove Park.

NOW what the Hell do I say?????

Tags: 2008 election, canadians, canvassing, grove park inn, naturalization, obama, spouses

I don't mean to sound lame, but I've found that goals and aspirations work better for me when I make them up as I go along.

Think about this for a moment:  You can bang your head against a wall all your life and the only mark you'll have made on the world will be a bloody spot on said wall.  You can have no ambitions and come out just the same as the person I just referenced, minus the blood stains, or you might just wind up on the street, wearing all your winter clothes in the summer, with a cardboard sign that passers-by will eagerly ignore.  

What various consultants, public speakers and lifestyle gurus have told us is that as we age, our goals change.  Don't get so fixed on the goals you had as a teenager, they advise, that you are too rigid to accept the gifts we're given along the way... gifts that soften our views, bolster our abilities... whatever the particular tent-revivalist is selling.  

It's always seemed to me that what they're saying is that we should not be afraid to alter our goals to reflect who we are NOW, who we've become.   And what bothers me most is that seems to be the same as changing your goals so that they are more easily attainable.  Instead of becoming the director of major motion pictures, you're happy to be the camera-man on cable TV.  Instead of writing the great American novel, or even just "A" novel, you're content to write ad copy.  

Or, perhaps you're still trying to make your dream happen, but you've taken the "real job" on as well.  Maybe you find that at the end of the day, you just don’t have the energy or creativity you need to turn your desires into reality.  How does one adjust their goals to accommodate that?  Do you give up the pay and benefits job, or settle into the daily grind for the next 30 years, hoping that once you retire, that book, painting or new business venture is still in you?

What has ANY of this to do with my intent for this Journal?  Well I started out with an idea, that blossomed into some good insights, I think.  So I've adjusted the outcome for this piece to reflect where I really am, who I am now instead of who I was when I started.  

Nah, just got sidetracked.  But it's somewhat related.

I stated riding a bike again about a year ago.  A free bike in Need of repair in July, with the assistance of a bike riding buddy at work, became what's now a workhorse of exercise for me.  

My goals were simple... to get OFF the exercycle, OUT of the house and into the real world.  See the world as I rode past it.  The wind, the sun, the water.  I wanted exercise to be interesting, random, instead of something to do while I stare at a wall or read a book.  I was also tired of the excess "me" I was carrying around and of hearing my wheeze at the top of a long set of stairs, and realized that taking care of one issue might also take care of the other.

I had a week off for Labor Day, so I started devoting time each day for a ride.  It wasn't until I put a computer (odometer, trip odometer, timer and speedometer) on the bike that I knew just how short my rides really were.  Then I looked at the Greenway trails and started out at Shelly Lake.  4 times around the lake  =  10 miles or so.  I felt like a champ!  10 miles!  My god!   

First goal.

As time went on, I ventured out to other trails, finding my favorites, adding miles.  When I saw I could do 16 miles, I made it my goal to do 20 one day.  That was goal #2.  That day happened to be the same day I did it.   When I converted the miles to Kilometers, as they do with track meets, races, etc, I saw that I might actually be able to do 40 kilometers.  Why not?  It's only 25 miles, and it sounds like a lot, doesn't it?  "Forty Kilometers".. Wow!

So I started toying with the goal of doing 40 kilometers on my 40th Birthday.  The goal was accomplished... please see the previous journal entry.

Since then, I've made no more long term goals.  The milestones have passed with a small amount of fanfare, noticed almost by chance.  

Mile 250 came up when I was stopped on the Oak Park portion of the trial.  A gent stopped me while crossing a bridge because he saw something on the side of a tree and wondered if it was a snake.  He'd noticed some birds flying outside their nest, making a lot of noise, and he wandered if it might be due to an intruder.  Lo and behold, it was a black snake   I'd never seen a snake climb a tree before, and it was fascinating to see it climb, so I watched with him for a few minutes before getting back on the trail.  

When I did, I saw that I'd stopped precisely at 250 miles.  

Synchronicity in action!

This weekend, I started at Shelly Lake and took the Crabtree trail with a detour up Kidd's Hill.  Kidd's hill was once home to Kidd Brewer, old school-style Influence peddler, and was several restaurants until it burned down many years ago.  Until recently, the burnt out remains were untouched save for the homeless and the curious.  I have a strange fascination with Kidd's hill, which should turn into a whole other journal entry some time, but I digress for now.  

Earlier this year, they partially razed the fancy house, leaving a concrete hulk behind, and totally razed the living quarters.  Still, whenever I go there, I can see some evidence of other trespassers.    There was a lid to a 20 gallon paint bucket placed dead center in the circular driveway.  By itself, it meant nothing, but I encountered similarly placed object in earlier visits... sometimes a book, sometimes a stump set up like a podium.  But again, and for the last time today, I digress.

I was at the tip top of the hill, and seeing no further demolition, I was turning around when decided to check the computer to see how long I'd been riding.  I have to "click" between function screens, so I went from trip mileage to Time-of-ride, then to Lifetime odometer.   I forget the time, the supposed goal of my "clicking", because when I got to the odometer, I saw magic numbers.

500.02

How amazing is that?  Not only had I logged 500 miles on two self powered wheels, but I saw it as it happened.  Okay, I saw it .02 miles after it happened.. but it's damned close.   

I have to wonder what suddenly possessed me to check.  Was it actual interest in the length of my ride, or some instinct, gnawing at me from inside, telling me to "look now!!!!"  I know I'm a counter. I count stairs as I climb, train cars as they pass.  Have I really been counting the miles?   

Is there anyway I can divert the energy I'm using to constantly count my steps and miles, use it to increase my conscious brain power and REALLY accomplish something?  

Or should I simply adjust my goals to use what brain power is available?

Back to the ride.  After Kidd's Hill, I took the trail that eventually takes me to the massive wooden bridge that runs along the creek behind the OLD farmers market.  I call it Turtle Creek because of sunbathing turtles perched on deadwood sticking out from the water.  I know they're sunning, but I really wonder if they're in it for the diving.   It must take hours to climb to the end of that log, only for the jump in to last a fraction of a second.  Compared to the ride there... it must be a real rush indeed. 

Past the bridge, under Capital Blvd, out past Raleigh road and out to New Bern Avenue I went, Pausing at the Walgreens to replenish my water and munch some granola for energy.  

I turned around there, but was not quite halfway.  I knew I'd have to add some miles around Shelly Lake to make my goal for the day.  

25 miles. Again!

And on Sunday, I did 15 more.  40 miles this weekend.  Another first.  

Maybe I just like the surprise of the accomplishment of a goal, rather than the buildup and potential disappointment?

Good question.   

Goals accomplished?  500 miles, 25 miles/40k (again) onr Sat.  15 on Sunday to make 40 for the weekend.  

Plus, all the oxygen in my brain conspired to produce a "make it rich" opportunity... can't wait to see if it pans out!

What's next?

I'll let you know when I know!

 

 

Tags: accomplishments, cycling, goals, kidd's hill
Current Mood: accomplished

Brunch at the Art museum... what a fine way to start your Sunday.  Good food that someone else cooked and will clean up after, yea!!!  After that, a leisurely stroll through some world class art at the NCMA.


Just a few things that stuck out to me:  

In the European Gallery, there's a painting of a tragic scene from possibly Greek legend.  Death of . . . someone or other.  (Sorry, I didn't bring my notebook)  The legend goes:   her husband refused to make a sacrifice in honor of their marriage and was therefore, as these things HAVE to be tragic, going to die for his transgression.  As a symbol of the selflessness and love of marriage, she offers herself to be taken rather than the husband.  In the background, a shroud is hung over the statue of Hymen, the god of marriage.  

Let's restate that.  Her husband angered the Gods by refusing to make a sacrifice, so she gives herself up to them because she's the selfless one.  GREAT!  Lady, you just left your kid with a raging narcissist who lives to piss off the gods!  Who's going to get slaughtered next time his pride gets in the way?  Probably the kid.  There's selflessness, and there's martyrdom.  tch tch.

And, allow me to repeat.  HYMEN is the god of Marriage. 


Think about that.

Talk about throwing yourself onto your sword as a sacrifice on your wedding night.  (IF things have worked out the way their supposed to.. wink wink)

Isn't that like naming the God of track athletes "Fallen arches"?


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In a more recent addition, there's a photograph of museum goers in Spain.  The exhibit is supposed to make people look at how we look at art.

Imagine this.  There are 6-8 people in the picture, standing in front of a painting.  1 Tour-leader, 6 students, and a woman with long black hair.  

The students are fiddling with the "audio tour" headsets, and are looking at those.  The tour leader is looking at the next thing on the tour.  Only the woman with the black hair is looking at the art.  

And the art is staring back at her.  

The painting is of some long ago scene.  I can't place the time, but in this style, the subjects tend to look back at you, as if they know you're watching.  Except in this case only 1 living person is paying attention.  

How odd to see the art looking at the onlookers rather than vice versa!
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I was amazed by the liberties taken in the men's room. NO, I don’t mean that lewdly.  There was a table there, with a mirror in front, and I thought "oh, Nice!   A changing station for the dads! How progressive!"   

Then I saw the vending machine.  Very discreet, no signs or text.  "How discreet they are, selling condoms in Men’s' room of the Museum!"

Then I noticed something...

No urinals.

All Stalls.

Now not only did I know why there were flower arrangements on the table, but I suddenly realized that the vending machine wasn’t selling condoms, but a distinctly more feminine product.

Time to VERY QUIETLY tip toe out of the ladies room and quickly back to the European gallery.

 

Tags: art, hymen, ladies room, museum cafe, ncma, north carolina museum of art

In the local paper last week, there was an article regarding some new federal guidlines for exercise.  The meat of this news- piece was that you needn't work so hard to work out.  That in some cases, you can acheive the same bottom line (calorie usage in this case) using a less strenous exerceise.  For example:  walking 5 miles achieves nearly the same caloric consumption as rding a bike 20 miles.  

Now, if you're reading this, you may have gathered from my other blogs that I like cycling.  You'd be right.  I am fully aware that being on wheels does NOT make it the hardest exercise in the world, and that 10 miles on a bike is different than 10 miles jogging of walking.  I think jogging is harder than riding, but it's more than that.  I prefer cycling over just about any other aeobic activity.  

What about sex, you ask?   

I said, "just about any other activity.  I think that covers it  :-)

Back to the article.  I think the data they used is waaay off.  Not because i'm biased.  And not just becuase the data was provided by the federal Gub'mint.  The chart that accompanied the article stated that you use as many calories fishing per hour as you do cycling.   

hunh?   
What th'???

Perhaps their method of fishing differs from mine.  Or perhaps they mean deep sea scuba diving -fishing.  All I know is that if they think Fishing burns as many calories as Cycling, then clearly they have NOT taken into account the drinking involved in landing the big fish.  

I stand by my bike.  and that's how we roll... (giggle)

 

Tags: bikes, exercise, fishing
Current Mood: confused

Finally, the follow up to the festivities I felt it felicitous to fritter away the time with on my fortieth! 

In other words, here is the follow up to the last blog I posted.  

YES!  I managed to ride 40 kilometers on my 40th Birthday!

I got a later start than I wanted to, but then I never was an early riser if  I didn't have to be.  I awoke leisurely, had coffee.  Fed the dogs, checked "mail" and chatted for a few, then breakfast, a little clean up and off I went!  

I had to  figure out how to mount a rack to my car.  not hard at all, really... and once the bike was securely strapped in, I made sure i had my gear and headed out.  

On a tip, I parked at the Art museum and took Reedy Creek rd until it became Reedy Creek trail, whch took me into and through Umstead state park.   Out of all the greenway trails I've been on so far, this was the most beautiful.  Serene, natural, un-crowded.  The biggest traffic jam occurred when I came upon what must have been a cross country team joggin through the forest... and still there was plenty of room for everyone.   

I took the path though to the other side of the park and over I-40.  I call it the "bridge to nowhere".  it was a bridge meant to link the homes in Umstead park (yes, there are some lucky people who get to live in there) but the main traffic seems to be foot traffic,   Wheel traffic in my case.  



That's supposed to be a peace sign, but I'm rubbish at taking my own picture.(sigh)

From there I took the trail down into Lake Crabtree park.  Saw some other cyclists there, and even a man flying a parasail kite out there.  I'd taken the trail through the park and foudn myself on Dynasty drive, which took  me up to Harrison Avenue, where i turned around.  

I found a spot that just spoke to me right around mile 12 and stopped for  a water and rest break.  

  I climbed the rock, and had the water been deeper, and if I'd had more balls, I'd have jumped in for a cool treat.  Alas, I moved on.  

Back through the park seemed easier, perhaps because now I'd been there before.  Now I made my way through the forest again, past the horse pastures and cow fields of NCSU and back to the art museum.   The trail wound around back and I followed it to the bridge over I 440 and onto Peace College campus.   I took a final breather at the football fields there then turned back, closer to the 40k / 25 mile mark but not there yet.  

I wondered where it would happen.  On the bridge spanning 440?  some blind curve in thr trail?   Nope.  I was near a piece of art, the name of which escapes me.  there was a bench too, so I sat and waited for a passerby to take a picture of me at the crucial moment.    MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!  (see picture at top of post)

So, my water bottle was emptied, many freindly people were waved to, and many, many miles (to me) were ridden.   41k was the actual total once I'd gotten back to the car, so technically, I'm covered for the next birthday, too.

Overall, it was an enjoyable trip, and I was proud to have done something personally satisfying on my birthday, rather than going overboard some other way.

Granted, my buddy Perry took me out last nite and introduced me to irish Car bombs... but that's another story.

And now that I've reached that "magic" age, I really dont feel any different.   Is that the secret these old duffers have been holding out on me all this time?   It's all just a number, so act your age... OR your shoe size.. it really doesn't matter.  

I'm  Mike... aged 40, shoe size 12.   

"Hi Mike"

Peace out!


 

Tags: 40, cycling, parks, shoe sizes

 

Tags: cher, cycling, middle age, motivation, motivational speakers, turning 40, work
Current Mood: contemplative

Funny story:  In one of my past careers, one of my customers was none other than Roy Underhill, the old fashioned wood crafts dude from "the woodwright's shop".   

Well known for his love of "the old ways" and old tools, I asked him, just for giggles, if he could choose ANY modern power tool, what would it be.  He thought for  few moments, and replied  " I'd choose a Power Mac G-4)

As for me, give me a #2 phillips head screwdriver, a hammer, some duct tape and a PC OR mac, and there is NOTHING I can't do.

 

Tags: hpcareer2, tools trade, what do you have to say?, writer's block
Current Mood: calm