Lately, throughout the early morning hours, I've been experiencing fairly lucid dreams of the kind one would wish to recall during conversations in the daylight hours. Unfortunately, its nigh impossible to remember dreams after they've been drowned out by a few moments of thick reality. And besides, nobody cares much to hear others' dreams. They're just dreams: make-up-as you-go scenerios pieced together from the things that you've recently felt and seen, as well as those primitive, deep-set fears and insecurities that haunt the back of your mind. They're random nonsense in other words. Might as well walk up to a friend and say "bigadeebigadeeboo!"
Ok then. Get ready for some jigadeewigadeewoo.

I dreampt that I witnessed a man attempt suicide by jumping off a small bouldery damn, into a shallow body of water. After the jump, I was confident he had fatally injured himself. To my surprise, and to the relief of his family and friends, he not only survived, but walked to the top of the damn completely unscathed, looking healthier than ever. I remember this was an emotional moment.

Feeling elated, I turned to the man and told him how precious life is. I said that we are the fiery ends, the sparks, of a vast, timeless, random universe. I asked him to imagine a large room full of millions of tiny bouncy balls exploding outward from the center of the room. I described the way the balls richocheted off the walls and off each other, producing areas of high and low concentration. I then said that the areas of high concentration would interact so violently that nearly every possible combination of balls would at one time exist; and that out of these most volatile places in the room, humans came to be. Humans were by far the greatest thing the room (or universe) ever produced, for the onset of our existence marked the first time the room was aware of itself.

I guessed that I felt a little like a guy on an acid trip when I woke up, which was moments after the scene I just described. It wasn't that the dream produced any new facts or theories on what it means to be human (our immergence from a purposeless/will-less vast universe is something science seems to imply). I was rather stunned because the experience made the scenerio seem very real and very possible. In short, its like I could grasp the idea, even though it involved numbers so high, and probabilities so low, they might as well represent infiniti.

For the next several minutes I layed in bed and thought about how comprehensible or incomprehensible the universe is. I tried to comprehend the age of the universe. It took a lot of concentration, but I was able to figure how many heart beats one would fire off in a 100 year life. Then, I figured how many 100 year lives one would have to live to live 1 million years (10,000). Next, I tried to compute how many lives one would need to live to live the 16 billion years the universe is thought to have existed. The numbers became too huge to hold in my head. When it came to time, and if broken down into heartbeats or seconds, the universe represented a number that was nearly incomprehensible. Yet when it came to space and matter (the atom and empty space), the universe could only be defined by numbers so high, they might as well be infiniti.

The fact that the universe is so vast that it can never be fully comprehended by us is a pretty obvious statement to me. The idea that the something so vast could produce us and everything we know seems plain to me as well. I make this point simply because I've read so many books, and have heard so many people state that its impossible to imagine life emergining out of "nothing". I dissagree. However, I'd use the word "everything". And I don't think that makes us any less special.

eh heh heh, about that whole Austin vacation thing....see, I've been sick for a couple of weeks, and, um, well, I sorta lost all motivation for anything and everything....I've been a titch miserable see, just sleeping the days away...

But now I'm back to it! I won't let my readers down. Presenting, Thursday! Austin, Texas!

It was a cooool day, temperature wise. I think the mercury plunged below 60. Freezing, totally. But it was a nice, refreshing change. Fern and I rode our bikes to the Spider House for morning brews and a lil' intellectual kickstart. We attempted to sit outside but found the chill air a bit unpleasant, so we made ourselves comfortable on an old couch inside. I remember being impressed by the room's antique lighting fixtures. Across the room from us were two college chicks talking about car's engines or something deadly boring like that. It was a comfortable start to the day.

Our first big activity was touring the Harry Ransom Research Center, which according to our guide books, was one of the absolute greatest things about Austin. The Center is home to an enormous collection of original manuscripts and such. Sitting in its lobby is one of five Guttenburg Bibles that currently exists in the United States. These Bibles were the first "substantial" books to be published using moveable print. Its immense size and the display created for it certainly impressed.

The bottom floor of the Center featured two relatively large exhibits. One consisted of grotesque, distorted portraits of various literary giants (?). Next to the portraits were several responses from the persons portrayed by the artist. Nearly all voiced their great distaste over the artist's depiction of them. People have claimed that the subject of one painting was so affected by the disgusting image of himself at an old age, that he died soon after viewing it. Which I could almost understand, since the paintings exaggerated all that was old and unnatractive about the subjects, playing to their greatest insecurities and fears.

The other featured exhibit was on Norman Mailer, someone I had no knowledge of before that day. Thanks to the Center, I was quickly able to familiarize myself with the man and his accomplishments through the display of various letters, books, pictures, and other memorabilia. Mailor first wrote books that placed the reader in the trenches with soldiers during WWII. His characters spoke crudely and explicity. Mailor was one of the first popular authors to overcome the censorship of the time. His bold, brilliant writing always pushed back the lines of what was acceptable, or publishable. He involved himself in politics and, to some degree, activism. He was regarded by his peers as a genius... I enjoyed looking over a letter sent to Mailor by Truman Capote. Both men's handwriting spoke volumns about them (or so my Grandpa the handwriting analasyst would say)...obviously, my knowledge of the man is infitismal, so I'll move on.

Our next stop was Jack Blanton's Museum of Art. First, let me say that I really, really enjoy museum experiences. Its just that I think art museums ought to look like museums, instead of a nondescript sports facility buildings where one might expect to find a women's college basketball game in progress. Also, I believe that the entrance to museums should hint at the grandeur inside, instead of resembling a back door where one might find employees milling around smoking cigarettes.

Ok, so the museum wasn't impressive from the outside. What mattered was what was inside. There we found huge renaissance paintings, a grand white staircase, some neat modern art, and some tasteful classical art, including sketches from Rembrandt. At one point, Fern and I's tendency to make light of serious things began to get the best of us. I think our joking around among the priceless works of art gained the attention of a security guard or two. Finally, I'll note that the renaissance paintings were impressive in size and impact, but tended to bore me due to the repetitious depiction of religious imagery, including the baby Jesus. Have you ever noticed that painters of the time had a hard time making babies look like babies? They look more like out of shape MiniMes.

Moving on. We ate cheap Mexican food for lunch. We rode our bikes to Book People and had a quality sit down. I treated myself to chocolate cake and a mocha. I sought out a book on near death experiences-a type of book that is proving difficult to find.

On our way back to the hotel, we did some shopping on Lamar and 2nd street. After a break, we headed out in search of good food and live music. Dinner was absolutely amazing. We ordered Texas flat-iron steaks at Moonshine. As Fern mentioned, it was the best steak I ever had. Our search for a hangout after the steak was rather dissapointing, as the first place we visited was so dark we could barely see each other, and the wine was ridiculously expensive, and there was no live music (a bar in Austin with no live music, unheard of!). The second place we walked into was a sad, sad, lame bar. We left as soon I was able to knock back a Jack n' Coke. Then we walked down 6th street as things were beginning to pick up. There was plenty going on, but yes, it was a college town on a Thursday night; and a hip, tasteful hangout with good live music was not to be found. Still, the dissapointment was not felt too deeply, since we had a fantastic live jazz experience a few days before. We tromped home and went to sleep.

To find out the sequence of events on our last day in Austin, check out Fern's blog. I'll simply add a memory or two. Our mountain bike ride on Friday took us over terrain so rugged and challenging that it seemed as though we were traveling 5 miles for every mile we actually covered, which was great since we had most of the day for that adventure. Manuevering over and around rocks, trees, and vines demanded an acute sharpening of our senses and response times-producing fantastic sensations. I was glad we had a chance to experience the land as it existed pre-Austin. We really felt far away from civilization down in the woods, amid the rocks and cliffs of Barton creek.

Ah, I must go now. I have yet to gain back full vitality after two weeks of the flu doldrums. Sleep remains a priority. I bid goodnight.

Oh, right, the recounting of the Austin trip. I totally forgot!
I only stopped by to publicly express my appreciation for youtube.com. Daily show on demand? Yes! Live performances of my favorite bands? Hell yes! I heart youtube. I really do. It's totally worth the 20 bazillion dollars Google paid for it.
I highly recommend visiting the site and searching for "Arcade Fire". Of the options available, choose the nice color close-up image of the lead singer. Sit back and enjoy a startling performance. Also, for those who haven't been put off by Ryan Adam's blatant narcissism, or for those who don't know Ryan Adams from Bran Adams, I suggest seeking out some of his performances on Late Nite, or see his video for "When the Stars Go Blue"-which was covered by Bono and some chick from the band Coors.
The final installment of the Austin trip will have to wait as it is well past my bed time thanks to youtube. Night.

Austin Adventure, 3rd Installment

O K,
Our first full day in Austin was pretty great from start to finish. However, it's hard to beat good food, fine(ish) wine, and live music as a package deal; so if one were to compare, which would be a ridiculous thing for one to do (but I'll do it anyway), the latter part of our day was really the best part (I expect the publisher will ask that I cut this entire sentence out).

Looking sexy and feeling fresh, we strutted into the heart of the city. At Kyoto's, where we nearly had the place to ourselves, Fern and I put our heads together and chose the absolute best roles on the menu. It is worth noting that this dining experience marks the beginning of a new way of eating sushi for Fern and I. Its called sharing, sharing everything, and it works smashingly.

With our stomachs as happy as can be, we simply paid the bill, walked past the silly halloween decorations in the sushi establishment, and followed the stairs down to the basement, where a bar and live jazz band awaited us. We found the best seat in the place-not quite front and center-and ordered a glass of red wine. The house band's leader, a saxaphone player, was simply amazing, and you could tell he knew it. Still, he and the band were dressed as unpretentiously as a band could dress. It was fascinating watching the musicians pull out all the stops for their solo sessions. It was also highly entertaining watching various retirees and senior citizens bring their instruments on stage and rock it with the band (it was guest musicians night-open to anyone with an instrument and talent). You could tell that the older men had probably played since they were knee high to a grasshopper, and were likely legends in local circles. So yeah, Fern and I had a pure Austin music experience that night, which was cool.

On the walk back to the hotel, I was repeatedly harrassed in a good way by the Fern. Sleep that night was relatively good. And that was our first full day in Austin, Texas.

Good morning! Its day three of our vacation. Let's get some coffee at the Spider House, shall we? Hey, I hear there's this cool little museum in the "North End" with a huge collection of busts (sculptures), wanna check it out? Hrmm...were is it? Oh, there it is! Bummer, its closed today. Well, that sucks. How bout we head over the the Laguna Gloria art school and museum. I hear its beautiful, being situated on a hill on a bend in the river and all. First we've got to get there. Follow me! Where in the world are we? God its hot out here, isn't it? Oh, this is where we need to go. Follow me! Wow, now I know why they call it hill country. Finally, we're here! Gotta pee gotta pee gotta pee. Whoosh. Dying of thirst dying of thirst dying of thirst. Thank god. Hey, this home is really cool. It would be the perfect place to entertain, wouldn't it. Oh, the owner was a big entertainer, was she? And an art lover? Very cool. Crazy, a band crawled through that little door and played on an indoor balcony during parties? I really like this big green room full of windows. Let's walk around outside. Very elegant, reminds me of the deep south. The woods are very thick. Check out these crazy palm trees. Let's sit by the river. Alright, very nice, but its time to get some food. That was a quick trip to Guadalupe St. I'm starving, can't be picky. This place looks good, despite all the UT pride crap everywhere. Mmmm, stuffed rellano pepper, sooo good. Since we're here on Guadalupe, let's do some shopping! Here's a cool hat at Urban Outfitters. I can't believe it, I found more stuff I want-some vintage T's that actually fit. These salespeople in the Diesel store take way too much time styling their hair. I'm getting pretentious-sick, let's go. I just can't see myself spending $200 on a pair of narrow black jeans right now when Boise's about to get a Levi's store. I'm starting to feel a little overwhelmed. Jennifer's really not feeling good, is she? Let's sit down for a bit, here, at this coffee shop. Uh, what a terrible mocha, and what a depressing place. There's no element of design here at all except a crumbly brick wall and a lot of stainless steel. Fern's really pooped, leaning her head on my shoulder, trying to zone out. Well then, its been a hard day with all the riding over steep hills and shopping, so let's go back to the hotel and chill and watch tv. Ahhhh.

That was Tuesday. This is Wednesday:

Fern and I walked to the heart of downtown, Congress Ave, and selected Little City as our morning coffee/mocha supplier. I approved of what the owner had attempted to do with the look of the place, but a coffee house is not really a coffee house if it isn't inviting and comfortable. The artwork was good n' alternative, and well done, but it was cold and almost hostile. Oh yeah, the service and coffee sucked ass too. But, I still enjoyed the experience because I had never been there before...and I was with Fern, ahhh!

We didn't stay long. Back on the bikes, we took the greenbelt to the other side of Town Lake. Urgeny developed for the use of a bathroom. Since it was the first place we came to that had a bathroom, we made a nature center our first stop of the day. I always enjoy observing nature, even if said nature is somehow injured for life and locked up in a cage that is infinetly smaller than its natural environment. I had a good time checking out the bobcat, coyote, raccoons, owls, hawks, turtles, lizards, and a number of other creatures on display and unable to run away. Around this time both Fern and I seemed to be developing rashes of some sort which we surmised were a result of the abundance of nature in the area.

Our next stop was for lunch at a Mexican-American joint. The food and experience was A OK. I was a little dissapointed that the server got my order wrong. I had wanted a catfish enchilada, but instead he delivered catfish tacos. I didn't feel like being a dick about it, so I kept the tacos. Hey, a bottom feeder is a bottom feeder; its going to taste good whether you smother it in cheese or wrap it in a soft tortilla. Its no big deal.

After receiving directions from a stage-hand dude watching the gate at the park where the Rolling Stone's would play in a couple days (breath), Fern and I found the botanical gardens that we had been so excited about visiting. The experience was very cool. The Japanese garden was especially nice; with its myandering streams, its water falls, pond with huge koi and lilypads, and bamboo forest. I felt very Thoreau-y communing with nature (and mess'n with the fish) in that garden. I also enjoyed the herb garden and primitive plants.

Off we rode. Our next stop (I think it was at this time), was just down the road at that juice joint which we enjoyed so much Monday. This time I bought the most expensive smoothie on the menu. Seriously, we need a place like that in Boise.

Rejuiced, Fern and I hit "South Congress", the place for the definitive Austin experience, according to one of our guide books. After locking up our bikes, we began walking from shop to shop, checking out all kinds of wares. The first shop we stopped in contained Camper shoes, which automatically made Austin twice as hip in my mind. The salesperson was rather friendly. He noticed our bikes and began chatting with me about mountain biking. Well, he chose the right person to talk to about that subject, as I was able to hold up my side of the conversation very well. He told us about a great place to ride that was a mere bus trip away. As we walked away, Fern had to voice her amazement about how people somehow manage to sense that I'm into biking, and start talking to me. She observed that that never happens to her. We then discussed several theories for why that is.

One of the next stores we visited marked the beginning of a bit of a downhill slide for me that afternoon. It was a HUGE flea-market that specialized in unusual antiques. While I love that sort of stuff, after spending like a half an hour in only half the store looking at the kookiest shit, my life essense started to drain from my body. I began to realize that I was staring blankly at stuff that I hadn't the slightest interest in owning. Black dolls, cowboy boots, old radios, flowery hats, pendants, furs, records, antique books on positive thinking, toy cars, and on and on and on. It would have been better if it was stuff I could have had fun with, or if I was in the mood to have fun with the stuff. Like, "Fern, look! I'm wearing a silly feather hat from the 1920s! har har!" See, not really fun stuff at all. But, I digress.

My mood was not helped in the next store, which had a huge selection of t-shirts with "clever", "hip" sayings on them. Elliot Smith was playing on the stereo. Normally, that would perk me up, since I'm a fan, but being in the mood I was in, the depressing music actually depressed me. (normally, depressing music makes me feel good inside). At any rate, Fern found some cool custom-made clothes, that really excited her and inspired her to think about designing and making her own clothes someday. She bought a cute dress that I've yet had the pleasure to see her wear here in Boise, perhaps because the weather has been a might chilly.

Shopping on South Congress took its tole, so we found a neighborhood coffee house to decompress. I felt substantially better on the walk back to South Congress where we left our bikes thanks in part to the exciting weather that was taking place in the atmosphere all around Austin at the time. Fern took a picture of one of the more beautiful storm clouds as we walked past the school for the deaf. Back on two wheels, we cruised north on Congress, stopping to check out a couple cool clothing stores and one extraordinarily uncool clothing/shoe store.

As we approached Congress Bridge, the sun was about to go down. According to everyone and every guide book, a trip to Austin wouldn't be complete without viewing the world's largest urban bat colony fly from its home beneath Congress Bridge. Fern and I claimed a spot amongst other tourists on a grassy knoll made of bat poo and noticed that the air had a especially odd pungent smell. The bats skillfully waited to build up anticipation in their audience before finally one bat was seen fluttering from one part of the bridge to another. Then two more lept out and fluttered around. Next, a handful made an appearance. Still, only a few bats fluttered around. But the high-pitched squeaking that was present from the beginning was markedly louder. All of a sudden, a huge stream of bats burst forth from the bridge. And they kept coming for approximately a half hour-about 25 minutes after Fern and I became completely bored with the spectacle. Later that evening, storms passed mostly around the edges of Austin, but dumped a huge amount of rain outstide our hotel and caused flash flooding in the area that made national news. We did our laundry and watched crime shows. I shaved my wolverine chops that evening.

Austin, Texas, day one continued

At the Spider house, after spending some time marveling over our new surroundings, Fern dove into her enormous turkey sandwhich and I enjoyed one of the best grilled cheeze sandwhiches of my life. We shared a piece of decadent carrot cake while sipping a coffee and mocha. Fern worked on a new knitting project (a messenger-style laptop bag) while I read a book which I had aquired a couple of days earlier at one of Nampa's expansive used book stores. The book was called "Above Liberalism", or something like that. It was destined to be the single item I lost in Austin; which is a shame, because I was enjoying the author's blatant conservative prejudices and paranoias.

After an hour or so, we left the Spider House feeling reenergized and whole again. We had decided to march back down Guadalupe to take advantage of the bike rental offer we received that morning. Back at the shop, we were able to procure two capable steeds and a Kyrptonite U-lock for 5 days at the reasonable price of $150.

We were free at last, rolling along at speeds that our little legs could never hope to sustain. We explored the sprawling campus of the University of Texas; stopping for photos of a family of moss-covered turtles, the UT Tower building, and a fountain. Getting somewhat lost among the light orange brick buildings of the campus was an enjoyable experience.

Next, we meandered past Longhorn Stadium, made our way back towards the hotel, but continued south along Redriver and the poorly maintained haven for the homeless-the Redriver greenbelt. Once we made it to the Town Lake (river) greenbelt, we turned right and opened up the throttle. I managed to hang onto Fern's wheel as she zipped around runners and sped past dog-walkers. Our wandering took us south across the lake on a pedestrian bridge that ran underneath the freeway. After a few more miles of rolling greenbelt, we stopped at a pedestrian bridge that spanned Barton Springs to take a few pictures. We wandered to Barton Springs itself and checked things out. The area was rather dead, save for a couple of leisurely swimmers and several hundred pigeons. I imagine that Barton Springs is really hoppin when temperatures push past 100, as they regularly do in Summer.

According to our map, on the opposite side of the springs was some sort of sculpture garden. Our search came up empty. We became desperate for cold beverages and a sit-down. On Barton Springs Road, a sign advertising 15% off for cyclists got our attention. We pulled over at a juice shack of sorts that sold expensive fruit juice and smoothie concoctions. Inside, I couldn't help but join an employee and customer in anti-Bush barbs. The experience afforded by the establishment's fine beverages was one of the best experiences of the trip. My smoothie was worth every one of the six hundred and fifty pennies it cost me.

Next, we came upon Austin's largest bike shop. Inside, Fern gracefully and patiently waited as I wandered the entire store, including the backroom, talking to an employee and taking photos al the while. It was the nicest shop I'd ever seen.

Then, Fern and I continued wandering the town on our bikes. We passed a neighborhood that reminded us of Portland. I declared that I would live there, if I were to live in Austin. Soon we entered a part of town that reminded me of Fairview Ave. There, where one might expect to find a K-mart or Savers in Boise, was a "Department Store". (See Fern's blog for a hilarious recounting of this episode of our wandering). We each ended up buying a pair of shorts.

The ride back to the hotel took us over some steep hills, through a pleasant neighborhood or two, past a dog park, and back through some of the seedy Redriver blocks. At the hotel, we took showers and collapsed on the bed.

The first full day was not over...