Engage.

2009-01-05T21:57:00.000-08:00

It was announced at the start of work that we'd be trying to reconcile our entire store's inventory in one day. Reconciling the inventory involves scanning items and sometimes counting items. It's work that a third grader could do. The challenge came in the sheer number of products we had in the store to scan.

So we all got to work, enthusiastic about achieving our goal of being finished by the end of the day. I had a load of energy and moved as fast as I could. Amazingly, we reconciled the inventory with an hour to spare.

After work I went home and had a bowl of soup. Then it was off to Fern's place. We chatted and joked for a while before heading for the gym. At the gym I had an amazing amount of energy. John Post was there and we ended up riding the same course together on the Espresso bikes. We upped the pace on the last half of the 5.8 mile course and raced for the finishing line. My bike did something weird (it spun out) just when I was putting in my big sprint for the finish, so John beat me across the line. Next, I rode a pretty challenging 10 mile course, Outlaw Rock. Again I felt good. I managed to maintain an average cadence of 90+ and produce an average power of 302 watts. My best average power to date for a course that I think was around 7-8 miles is 337 watts.

I spent some extra time stretching after the ride. Then I rode home through the snow, made myself a couple of protein shakes, and watched the 08 Tour for nearly an hour.

2009-01-04T20:47:00.000-08:00

I met Fern at Alias this morning and enjoyed the usual-Parmesan bagel with honey raisin walnut cream cheese, and house coffee.

Oh, but first, last night Fern and I hit the town for a very short while. We stopped in at Pengillies. It's one of the only non-smoking bars in town. Since it was a Saturday night and one of Boise's most popular musicians (Jeremiah James) was performing, the bar was absolutely packed. After I gave up, Fern succeeded in procuring a beer, which we shared. Neither one of us is particularly social creatures, and with people packed like sardines all around us, we found little joy n' comfort in the experience. So we didn't stick around long-just long enough to drink our beer. And that was the night...

Back to today. I went to work this morning meaning to get a lot done; but once again, slow business and the fun loving nature of my fellow employees really turned my mood away from hard work. I didn't do much, but got to several small starts anyway.

I called Fern as I was leaving. She wasn't doing very well she said when I asked her. She had a good reason to be upset, but I don't feel like its my place to talk about it here on this blog. I can say that I rushed over to her place to try to offer some comfort. Ultimately, she chose to deal with things mainly by herself tonight.

I did manage to get a workout in at the Y. I pedaled the recumbent Expresso bike for about 45 minutes, riding the first 5 courses on the beginner course and taking a hard n' fast tact on most of them.

I went home and called Fern. I suggested that pizza and a movie might be the thing for her tonight. I ordered the pizza and cleaned up. Fern decided to stay home, so Eric and I sat back and watched a stage of the 08 Tour that took the riders over the highest mountain pass used in the race. It was stunning scenery.

Finally, I spent a little time on RichardDawkins.net, responding to a response to one of my comments about the issue of forcing unfit mothers to take contraception to avoid unwanted pregnancies and uncared for babies.

2009-01-03T16:54:00.000-08:00

Met Fern at Alia's bagel n' coffee joint. Had just that. Read the paper and chatted. Went for a hike on the newish Polecat trail. T'was a bit icy and muddy, but doable. T'was very nice and sunny outside. Talked n' hiked for 'bout an hour. Headed for the war museum near the airport. Checked it out, goofed around. Stopped at the newish MoxiJava on Vista Ave. Spent close to an hour reading time mag while Fern knitted. Pleasant. Then home for a break. Decided to review the days activities on this here blog at approx 6pm. For some reason left out subject in all sentences. Technically, not sentences...

2009-01-02T20:57:00.000-08:00

I slept in today 'till about 11:30am. Was going to do something productive, but ended up being a couch potato for about an hour, eating two bowls of cereal while watching an exciting stage of the 08 Tour with Eric. Then I got ready to go to the gym. At the Y I spent about 25 minutes on an Espresso bike, stretched, and spent another 50 minutes on the bike. I meant to work on maintaining a high rpm because my legs were feeling a bit heavy and tired after my attacks yesterday, but one pedal on the machine was making a squeaky noise at high revs, so I ended up pedaling slowly and doing some one-legged exercises for much of the last 50 minutes. Next, I used the gyms new machines to do some upper body work. In the mean time, Fern arrived (she took a half day off). We both left around the same time. I stopped in at Subway for some lunch before heading over to Fern's for a quick flick (A PBS production about Snowflake the albino gorilla). Then I went home to clean up for this evening's activities. Back at Fern's, neither one of us could really think of anything to do that excited us. My suggestion was to go to some dive bars we've never been to before and have some beer, chat, maybe play some games or sing karaoke. But I wasn't that passionate about the idea. I hoped that once we found ourselves at a new place, drinking beer and talking, we'd have some fun. I soon realized that it probably didn't matter what we were going to do, I just wasn't feeling my perkiest, liveliest, fun-lovingest, and decisive self. And once I realized that, I really fell into a funk. Nevertheless, Fern did her best to cheer me up, and we had some good eats and a few laughs anyway. We ended up walking downtown and having some appetizers (pupus) and beer at The Reef, then stopping by Urban Outfitters to find something to spend Fern's gift certificate on. I decided to head home fairly early, as soon as we walked back to her place. A funky Josh is not a fun Josh. I'm hoping to sleep it off tonight.

2009-01-01T20:34:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we were given permission by Tom to close George's a couple of hours early. Before heading home, Larry and I had an especially long philosophical discussion. We covered a lot of topics, but mainly debated his assertion that the theory of evolution is being taught as though it were uncontroversial, and that the theory is little more than a baseless human construct, a philosophy that's been presented as the absolute truth. Larry complains that the scientific community and our institutions of learning have tyrannically suppressed any legitimate challenges to the theory of evolution. I, of course, defended the theory as the best, most thorough scientific theory (and perhaps the ONLY theory) we've got to explain life on this planet (other than life's origins). I defended theories in general as being legitimate means of discovering greater truths. And I defended science by observing that it is one of the most democratic, flexible, and trustworthy forms of discovering truth and correcting falsehoods. It was an interesting discussion, primarily because I think it again brought to the fore some of the problems we have with gauging the integrity, the truthfulness, and the quality of knowledge. At the end, we talked a bit about morality, with Larry expressing his feeling that morality will soon be a thing of the past, and with myself pointing out that a true morality is finally emerging from our reprehensible history.

The rest of the day consisted of dinner at home, hanging out at Fern's, going for a walk, and spending the night at her apartment. Eric had invited a gal over to our apartment for New Year's Eve, and wanted to be left alone. I had no problems obliging. In fact, I slept pretty well at Fern's, which is cool because we've usually had issues with comfort/insomnia when trying to share a bed in the past. Oh, and we opted to not celebrate the new year, what with our pissy attitudes about pointless traditions and the fact that we were quite tired and unwilling to spend a bunch of money on alcohol.

So I was at her place this morning. We ended up going to Java for coffee and "breakfast" (usually we have something small like a bagel or muffin when we do breakfast together, like Saturday mornings). We then decided to get ready to go to the YMCA, to get a workout in relatively early in the day. I set off for home to gather up my gym clothes. But on the way I realized that I still had time to make it to Georges before noon in order to take part in the traditional New Year's Day road ride. I called Fern and she wasn't up for it (she hurt her tail bone a couple of days ago). So I rushed, got ready, joined up with 50 or so other riders at George's, and headed out. I had a pretty good time. I didn't feel my best, but felt good enough to make a couple of moves off the front of the group on Gowen Road. I was just having fun. The roads were a little wet and some sections still had some snow/ice on the edges, but the temperatures were in the lower 40s, so we all remained safe and comfortable all the way home. The ride ended up being about one hour, fourtyfive minutes long.

After the ride, after cleaning up, and after lunch, Fern stopped by and we headed out to the mall for some random fun n' shopping. It was apparent when we saw the crowds that we weren't the only ones who couldn't think of much to do on this grey, dreary January day. At the mall, while Fern enjoyed a bowl of tomato soup, we chatted about living in Boise, living in new places, and vacationing right. At Macy's I found the perfect long sleeved shirt, but it cost $90. So I skipped that and stocked up on my favorite wardrobe item-white, cotton, Alfani Tshirts.

Fern became overcome with tiredness. She dropped me off at Dawson Taylor's Coffee Shop and headed home for a short nap. I sat in a comfy chouch (chair/couch) and read my Sagan book.

An hour later, Fern picked me up and we stopped in at Winco to pick up dinner on the way to my apartment. I selected rib eye steaks, Brussels sprouts, and mashed potatoes and cooked them after getting home. We relaxed, ate dinner, and watched a movie written by Woody Allen (we've been on a Woody Allen kick lately). It was a hilarious movie about a playwright (John Cusack) whose plans get all mixed up, and in turn gets mixed up with the mob. Fern left after the movie. Both of us have been feeling like we're just not getting enough sleep. My theory is that we're getting about the same amount of sleep we normally get, its just that the winter season is having its affect.

2008-12-30T22:45:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I used my remaining paid vacation hours of the year and left work early, at 11am. First, I finished fixing up my cross bike (which has been neglected, sitting out back in the weather for months). Then I took full advantage of the unseasonably warm weather (in the 50s+) by riding my cross bike up 2 miles of snow, slush, and ice on Rocky Canyon Road. It was a lot of effort but also a lot of fun. Before heading home I rode to Table Rock. After the road turned to dirt, I rode through mud, slush, and a 100ft long puddle made by fast melting snow. At its deepest point, my feet were submerged, but I kept pedaling and made it through.

Later in the day, I met Fern at the YMCA and had an excellent upper body workout on some equipment I never used before. The last activity of the evening was reading cycling magazines at Barnes n' Nobles.

Today I worked a eight hours. Business was very slow. Oh, and by the way, one of the customers I helped out a couple of days ago (Cheryl) came back yesterday while I was off and bought the women's road bike I showed her. I didn't accomplish much at work today however, but I did find a list of Boise's biggest employers (like Micron, St Luke's, and BSU) which included the number of employees actually employed by those employers (wee!). I'll use this list and the bike route maps I now have to come up with recommendations for commuter routes to and from these major places of employment.

After work it was all about two things: Laundry and a tornado chasers reality show. I had an enormous amount of laundry to do-I actually spent more than 10 dollars and washed and dried seven loads of laundry. Thankfully the Discovery Channel was playing back-to-back episodes of their tornado chasers program. Everyone knows that if I wasn't a sales manager at a bike shop I'd be a storm chaser. So yeah, I was entertained.

2008-12-28T20:47:00.000-08:00

It was back to work for me today. Last night I held onto aspirations that I might get up early enough for a pleasant coffee shop experience before work; alas, a deep winter sleep once again kept me in bed for as long as possible. So it was straight to work.

It was nice not having to listen to Christmas music for once. There were a handful of customers I helped today. Two were thinking seriously about bikes, and we had good interactions that may result in a bike sale in the next few days. One customer and his wife (Dean and Julie), who we've seen come in the store on many occasions, were considering purchasing our most expensive mountain bike, the Specialized Sworks Stumpjumper FSR. We had it on sale, marked down from $6,700 to $5,300. I could tell Dean wanted it, but with sales like this, you don't want to be perceived as pressuring the customer. So currently Dean is probably dreaming of this bike-he'll be in tomorrow to buy it, I'm sure.

I managed to find time to work on my commuter zone. I posted the Ada County Bike Routes map, and relocated the road and trail maps to achieve maximum fungshwai (or however you spell it).

After work, I went to the YMCA. I put in a short ride to warm up and then did two rounds of the circuit training weight room, again concentrating on lifting heavier weight slower. I rode home and prepared to host my girlfriend for dinner and telly. We said goodnight just after 9pm. Of course I had to watch a stage of the tour while enjoying a bowl of cereal before bed. The stage was ridiculously exciting, with a break away of four fighting (including American Danny Pate) for the stage win, and a chase group of all the favorites all trying to drop each other on the final climb. In the end, Frank Schleck was able to drop Cadel Evans by 6 seconds to make up the one second he needed to gain the yellow jersey.

Friday, December 26, 2008

2008-12-26T21:25:00.000-08:00

I broke the short and sweet rule yesterday, so I'll try to make up for it today.

Went on a small cleaning spree this morning. Met Fern at her apartment around at 2ish and we went to the YMCA for a workout. We were both desperate for some physical activity and getting back on track for our overall fitness goals. Both of us have expressed a desire to reach a new level of fitness, and we were making steady progress before all the pigging out and inactivity surrounding Christmas put a temporary stop to it. At the gym, I spent about an hour on stationary bikes and 15 minutes or so in the circuit training/weight room.

After working out, we drove to The Benchmark outdoors supply store to reserve some snowshoes for tomorrow's adventure with Leah and David. Then we satisfied our craving for Asian food at Oriental Express. We both had General Tsaos Chicken-tasty! Then it was on to Rite Aid to pick up some necessary house hold items. Finally, we spent a half an hour or so at the Flying M. I read a few pages of a Carl Sagan book over a mocha, and Fern did some knitting.

For our evenings activity, we went to my apartment and watched a little TV, as well as most of The Borne Identity (which Eric had gotten as part of the trilogy of Borne movies for Christmas). Then there was a little more quality time spent together before I bid Jennifer goodnight.

Christmas, 2008

2008-12-25T22:23:00.001-08:00

I slept in rather late this morning. Till nearly 11am. The last several days, I think I've been sensing a primitive desire to stuff myself with food and hibernate through the rest if winter. Very typical behavior this time of year for me. And by the way, so far this year its been very typical winter weather. Temps in the 20s and 30s and several small snow storms throughout December.

There were no coffee shops open this morning, so Fern and I didn't engage in our usual sort of morning hangout for weekends or holidays. Instead, I invited her over to the house and we opened presents. I had a few for her-a couple pair of ear rings, winter socks, knitting magazines (including one subscription of her choice), and a very amazing work of art depicting memorable scenes from the first four years of our knowing each other. The gifts were no trip to San Francisco (which I had almost booked the week prior), but I think she likes them. Fern got me three sets of professional racing DVDs. Awesome! There was the 2008 Tour of California, 2008 Tour de France (12 hour edition!), and the exciting 2008 Giro de Italia. Also, Fern knat me a cozy ninja balaclava.

I received several presents from my Mom as well as a check for a certain sum of money. The presents were all good stuff, but I especially liked the big book "Questions and Answers; Countries and Continents". Its got perty pictures and easy-to-read information. Erin sent me a funny/cool T-shirt with a cyclist on it and the caption "Its business time". Dad and Janet sent me a Harley Davidson hooded sweatshirt-totally my style!

Eric was the last to open his gifts. I got him an Anthony Bordaine book (traveling food writer) and a comic book about Barack Obama and John McCain.

After presents, Fern and I cooked up some food for Christmas dinner and headed to her parents place. On the way we picked up her sister Joanna and Joanna's boyfriend Brian. We all had some pleasant and rather intellectual conversation before dinner, as well as during dinner. The meal consisted of ham (John), brussels sprouts with bacon (me), creamy scalloped potatoes (fern), and savory sweet potatoes (Joanna). Oh, for an appetizer we had stuffed mushrooms.

After dinner there was a little more chatting, as well as some dog patting/wrestling/hugging/dancing (John has a young dog that is ridiculously energetic and overly happy to see everyone).

On the way home Fern and I had to pick up some Starbucks frapuccino drinks because we thought we had caffeine withdrawal headaches. We went to my place and took a "nap". I never actually fell asleep, but I became so relaxed and comfortable I might as well have. Frankly, I had become so unusually relaxed that I didn't feel like doing much with the rest of the day when we climbed out of bed at 7:30pm. But Fern convinced me to do some indoor riding. It took a little while to set everything up, but we did ultimately get about 45minutes of riding in while watching my new Tour De France DVD. A good ride and totally necessary, considering the calories I've been taking in lately.

Now I'm looking forward to some deep, long sleep. I've stayed up late the last couple of nights working on my present to Fern (during which I developed a painful headache), so now that that's done I'm feeling totally stress-free and relaxed and looking forward to sleep and the next two days off of work.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

2008-12-24T00:17:00.000-08:00

Got up a titch early and procured a Flying M mocha on the way to work. Wasn't sure I'd stay upright on my bike in the fresh snow, but once again I was amazed I didn't hit the deck. Was my usual bad self at work-put up bikes, helped customers, worked on my to-do list. I also sent Tom and Mike a couple of emails. One asking their approval to plan/organize a sales clinic for all of George's sales staff. Another suggesting we put some noticeable signage outside alongside Front Street or else facing Winco.

At home I made myself some macaroni cheese and peas and watched a little bit of the Poinsetta Bowl featuring BSU and TCU before getting ready and making my way to Fern's apartment. We spent some quality time chatting and such. I left for home close to 10 and spent some time on a christmas project. Now I'm dead tired and am looking forward to sleep and a bit of R&R tomorrow.

Monday, December 22, 2008

2008-12-22T20:25:00.000-08:00

This morning I crawled out of bed about 20 minutes earlier than I usually do. You know how it is when you wake up and you're really really tired and you don't want to get up, and then all of a sudden a certain thought shakes you awake? Well, the thought that got me up early this morning was that I could go ahead and pay some bills that have been sitting on my desk for months. So I did. As of this morning, I don't have to worry about how much I owe St Lukes, A Reason to Smile Dental, and the Health Wise Clinic.

Before making my way to work I deposited my check and enjoyed a warm pecan roll and coffee at the Flying M.

So yesterday I slacked off at work. Today I spent almost no time chatting. I dove right into work. Its a good way to make the day go by quickly, and I did in fact have a lot I wanted to accomplish. I was able to put together a long list of bikes we still needed to fall in line with my Master Floor Plan. I also managed to edit the Floor Plan a little. Otherwise, we had quite a few customers that kept me occupied throughout the day.

After work I went straight to the YMCA. I warmed up on the Expresso exercise bike for about 10minutes. Fern showed up. We said hi and I handed off the bike to her. Next, I spent a good 40 minutes in the circuit weight room (other than the Expresso bike, my major destination at the Y). I did all my usual machines twice. And I made a point to lift higher than average weight, and lift it rather slowly. This is my new tecnique. I've been feeling a little impatient about putting on weight, seeing faster results, so I'm hoping the slow and hard method works.

With my muscles all nice and pumped, I left the Y, headed home, had dinner, and engaged in some Christmas preparatory activities. Till tomorrow...

Sunday, December 21, 2008

2008-12-21T20:36:00.000-08:00

Hello.

I've spent some time lately rereading some of what I've written over the last 3 point 9 years here on this blog, and I've realized a few things. First, I used to write a lot more than I do now. And I used to write really long blogs. Reading long blogs feels work.

Part of the reason I stopped writing so much is because I used to think I should always have a lot of interesting things to say, which made writing more of a process. Now I realize that its actually a chore to read a long blog, even if it is interesting. And hate to say it, but some of my attempts to entertain were actually obnoxious (at least to me). Perhaps the thing I enjoyed the most about reading through my old blogs was revisiting daily activities. So, with these lessons learned, its time to get back to writing on a regular basis.

Today I slept in. Lately I've been sleeping pretty well, though not very deeply. Its probably because of all the time spent at the gym. I'm getting in better and better shape, so I think I'm more tired and breathing easier at night.

On the way to work this morning, I stopped by St Luke's Starbucks and procured a venti coffee. Most mornings I look forward to a good cup of coffee or a mocha. My favorite is a white chocolate mocha or a regular mocha from the Flying M, but I try to save a little money a few days a week by opting for the plain coffee with cream and sweetener, or skipping coffee altogether. Anyway, today I had a Starbucks coffee, which was pretty terrible. After having garlic breath last night thanks to Fern's tasty garlic and chives mashed potatoes, today's uber strong coffee breath was especially unwelcome.

I was especially layed back and jovial at work today. Sundays are often quite casual, what with no superiors around and work lasting from 11-4pm. (I'm the "boss" on Sundays, but this time of year business is slow and there's no reason to be a hard ass). These days my company at work are two fun loving people-Toby and Karen. We had a good time.

I met Fern at Winco after work and we did a little shopping before going over to my place. I decided that I wanted meatloaf. I bought the ingredients and made a big ol' loaf for Fern and I. We enjoyed it while watching a couple episodes of CSI. Fern finished knitting a black balaclava for me today. We had some fun posing like ninjas. At any rate, it was a comfortable and affordable domestic night for the two of us.

Owyhee Biking Adventure, September 08

2008-09-15T21:23:00.000-07:00

Phew! I'm actually on line and typing a blog-quite the accomplishment when your Internet transmits from an office around the corner in a different building. The connection comes and goes of its own free will. And then there are the viruses the CIA plants in my hard drive... Roughly half the time I log on to Engage an error screen pops up and shuts down my connection. I imagine Dick Cheney huddled in his command center laughing every time it happens.

So Dick, do you want to hear about my weekend Owyhee Adventure? Maybe the rest of you'd be interested...

On Saturday Fern and I did some epic mountain biking in the Owyhees. The fun began before we saddled up. There's a dirt road that takes travelers up onto rolling sagebrush plateaus above the fertile Snake River plains. Its called Poison Creek Road. There's a fork in the road near where it pitches up into the hills. If you go right you'd better have a truck with reasonable ground clearance because there's a ridiculously steep but short bit of track to navigate. If you go left you pass by a house and a half dozen no trespassing signs. So Saturday morning Fern and I found ourselves puzzling over which way to go. Given that I was the official planner/navigator for our destination, I made the executive decision to proceed left. Fern, being the law-abiding citizen that she is, momentarily resisted my direction. I insisted that it was OK because the road before us just HAD to be Poison Creek Road, SURELY the other bit of undrivable road behind the house could not. Maybe, I reasoned, the no trespassing signs referred to the land and house on either side of the road. I was proven wrong moments later. The proof came in the form of a mustachioed white guy in a bath robe running out of his house, flailing his arms, and yelling something we couldn't make out. We stopped and I stuck my head out the driver side window. I pleaded ignorance; "Isn't this Poison Creek Road?," I asked. "No!", the belligerent home owner yelled, "That's why there are no trespassing signs back there!" I apologized and asked him if he wanted us to back up or if it was OK to just continue forward. He indicated that we might as well continue forward by flailing his arms up the road in a very huffy manner.

Well, things had become rather tense very quickly; and as we proceeded up the road, I'm sorry to say they remained tense for several more minutes. The road condition was much worse than I expected, and Jennifer's cute but able Toyota Corrolla was a bit out of its element. The road was steep and rocky and featured the occasional sand/dust pit. For a while we didn't know if we were going to make it up. Alas, after a few undercarriage scrapes and much puckering of our A-holes, the road improved. We drove for a few more miles and parked. I was really hoping the ride would be a great one so that we could leave the morning's anxieties behind.

The ride was awesome and by the time it was done, we could laugh about the belligerent property owner. We covered the first five miles of the ride in no time. I noticed early on that Fern was really cruising. I theorized that she was in excellent shape due to a lot of consistent riding. It was either that or her newly working cyclometer was motivating her to keep the digits up. At any rate, we were really hauling ass.

At mile five we turned left off of Sands Basin Road and enjoyed several miles of pleasant double track. We did come upon a place where the road became solid lava rock. That was fun and challenging to ride. At one point, in the distance, we noticed a group of horses. We surmised that they were some of the wild horses that inhabit the Wild Horse Management Area of the Owyhees. Later, we saw several more horses. This time it became apparent that they were standing on the road that we intended on using ourselves. So at a safe distance we stopped and made some noise. (we had no idea if the wild horses could be aggressive) The horses stared at us nervously for several moments and then trotted quickly up a hill. This gave Fern and I room enough to proceed. The horses looked down on us from atop the hill as we rode by. I kept an eye on them for a moment and was shocked to see them turn around and running directly towards us. For a few moments I imagined what it would be like to be attacked and trampled by a band of wild horses. Thankfully, the weird creatures thundered down the hill well behind us. I assumed that they have a keen sense of the lay of the land and the safest areas to position themselves in relation to any threat. Either that or they sought the safety of the larger group after being scared by the almighty Joshifer on wheels.

We continued to ride and I continued to check our map to make sure we were on the route I had in mind. Along the way I missed seeing a faint track on our left and so I become increasingly confused when eyeing the map. At an intersection we took a left but I knew it wasn't the road I had wanted to find. The road forced us down and up some very steep hills. We did quite a bit of hike-a-biking. We were feeling pretty good, so we were OK with it. But just when I was getting really confused about where we were, my rear tire hit a big rock and pinched my tube.

Now its not like we were lost in the middle of the Sahara Desert. I knew we were within 10 miles of the valley and civilization. But I was still concerned because the Owyhee Mountains/Plateaus are scarred by deep, sheer canyons that are nearly impossible to climb down or up in spots. There were several creeks in the area that fell into these sorts of canyons. The big one was Jump Creek Canyon. From our perspective we couldn't get a good sense of the exact location and depth of the canyons in the area. At that moment, it was entirely possible that we could end up dragging our bodies for miles and miles all over the area in search of a route back to the car. And it was possible that it would be done hiking with our bikes, since I had yet to fix the flat.

So that was the dire situation we were facing. But thanks to some flat repair supplies and wise decision making on Fern's part, we avoided the worst and had a very pleasant, moderately tough ride back to the car. While I was fixing the flat, an ATV rider rolled up and we had a nice chat. He gave us some valuable (but incorrect) information about the various routes we could take, and we decided to simply backtrack to guarantee no further wandering. We had already ridden our bikes around 15 miles and we were feeling good, so we reckoned 15 more was doable.

By the time we got back to the car, we had covered over 30 miles and were feeling very accomplished. And finally we were able to drive out of the Owyhees along an alternative route than the one we came in on. It was a smooth, safe, and legal drive, which again, I felt pretty good about.

Trinity Mountain Camping Trip

2008-08-04T21:06:00.000-07:00

Friday morning I met Fern at the Flying M for breakfast. I had oatmeal and blueberries with brown sugar, butter, and cream, and Fern ordered her usual granola and blueberries with yogurt. You know, there's something about eating oatmeal for breakfast that makes me feel like I'm benefiting from more than just artery-scrubbing oat bran. It's like I'm imbued with the wisdom and goodness of the ages. Now that I think about it, maybe I was brainwashed by the Quaker Oats commercials and Wilfred Brimley when I was a kid. Well now I'm confused. If I can't trust my own feelings about something as simple as oatmeal then who and what can I trust??

Well, it was very delicious. And may I mention the blueberries. There's nothing better than freshly thawed but never dehydrated blueberries on top of oatmeal.

All filled with goodness, with coffee beverages close at hand, Fern and I left town and headed southeast on I-84. The nice folks at NPR helped pass the time as we drove down the freeway. At Mountain Home we took an exit north. The first hills of the trip slowed Fern's loaded down Corolla, but the peppy car handled the terrain with little difficulty in 3rd and 4th gear.

Around that time I played DJ, spinning tracks from three albums I recently purchased at the Record Exchange (yes, some people still buy whole albums in solid form-but only at sale price). The first "record" I put on was one of the Sunday's. I proceeded to have multiple "Desperado" moments-moments of musical ecstasy during which my whole being was fixated on a voice like a Siren dancing over the most intricate, beautiful melodies. If I was driving I'm sure I would have steared us right into the rocks. Next, for a constrast, I inserted the latest Nine Inch Nails album into the stereo. Again, the music cut right through. I've had some of the greatest listening experiences with NIN, and Friday morning, at the beginning of our weekend adventure, I had one of the best best yet.

The narrow, paved rural road we followed to get to Anderson Ranch Resevoir wound through some of the most beautiful farmland, pasteurs, and hills in Idaho. We even passed by a lonely cowboy on his horse. I thought of Mom and how she'd love to meet a guy like that.

After a few miles, we were taken by surprise as the road appeared to drop off the face of the Earth. The road turned right and descended abruptly along the edge of a sheer canyon walls. I was proud of Fern for not peeing her pants at the moment we began descending. She overcame her fear and drove carefully and slowly down the road. It helped that the view was absolutely stunning. We had to stop to take pictures. Back in the car and on our way down, a doe and her fawn pranced out of the woods in front of us. The fawn looked just like Bambie, with spots, long lashes, and all. We scrambled to take a photo but it was too late, the mother and daughter disappeared over the edge of the mountain. How they managed to not fall to their deaths, I don't know.

The road bottomed out and we crossed Anderson Ranch dam. Signs warned that slowing or stopping on the dam were prohibited. I could understand why security might be tight there. If someone managed to break the dam, an enormous amount of water would rush down the river into two more resevoirs; and if those dams gave way, Boise would be completely washed away. There is A LOT of water stored in those three resevoirs.

The next leg of the trip was a windy road perched a couple hundred feet above the resevoir. We passed a sign that said "Slide Area-Travel At Your Own Risk". I explained to Fern that this meant that if a 10 ton boulder fell on our heads, the highway department could say they told us so. I don't think she appreciated the way I chose to elaborate.

Several miles of careful driving along the resevoir and a few more miles up a mountain road got us to our destination, a camp site in the wilderness just south of the Trinity Mountain. Neither one of us had ever been there before. We scoped out the campgrounds and quickly settled on a spot that offered conveniences like a picnic bench, steel counter top, fire pit with grill, and a short walk to the outhouse. A stream was another short walk away.

We set up camp and ate a lunch of cold Winco fried chicken, mixed fruit, and baby carrots. Fern began to work on a bag of chips (polishing off bags of chips runs in her family, she says). We were anxious to head out on our mountain bikes. The surrounding wilderness was beautiful and the map indicated some promising routes to follow. The ride we ended up doing was perfect. We followed fire road #101 into the mountains to the west of camp. In all, we climbed around 1,500 feet and road approximately 6 miles. The road was smooth and sandy and quite pleasant to ride on. The descent was super fast and fun. Throughout the ride our bear bells softly clanged to scare away any oversized fuzzy predators.

The dust we kicked up on the descent stuck to the sweat we worked up on the climb, so naturally we needed to clean up when we got back to camp. We ended up spending an hour or two in our swimwear down at the stream. First we cleaned up and relaxed in the shade with books and beer. Then we took to the water and played around. I've always enjoyed disrupting the flow of water, so I immediately decided to build what I called "The Great Channel". With two lines of rocks shaped in a V, I caused part of the stream to rush through a small opening-the channel. When the engineering marvel was complete, I celebrated by sending a few "rafters" down the channel. It was loads of fun.

Then Fern and I hiked in the cold water up the stream several hundred feet or so. On the way we were able to discover several "breams" (a name we made up for small "beaches" of sand at the bottom of the stream. [get it, "b" from "beach" and "ream" from "stream"?]). Also, the stream was home to wee flowers that belonged to some sort of water plant. While almost all of the green plants lived under water, a lot of the little white and pink flowers were able to bloom just on the surface of the flowing water. Very beautiful indeed. Finally, its worth noting that in several places cold water flowed out of the side of the banks. Also, I never did find a gold nugget.

When we returned to camp a new phase of the trip began. We didn't know what to do with ourselves. First, we enjoyed a nap in the tent. Then we just kicked some dust around. Next, we went for a walk down the dirt road. Dinner took no time at all. Thanks to Fern's snazzy new propane stove, it took less than 10 minutes to prepare our chilidogs. Dinner was quick, which left us with more time to wonder what we were supposed to do to entertain ourselves in the wilderness. I decided that we needed more beer, so I drove Fern's car five miles down the road to a "resort" near the resevoir. I spent nearly twenty dollars on a six pack of Michelob's finest dark beer. The drive to the resort and back was actually a lot of fun. The road was windy but safe and I used the opportunity to hone swift but safe driving skills.

Back at camp, Fern and I broke out our beloved smashmitten materials, our rackets and birdy. On average, our smashmitten match was "subpar", but we had some sessions that were so good, so amazing, they seemd miraculous. After smashmitten had accelerated our bodys' absorption of alcohol, we sat down and enjoyed a few games of Boggle. We opted to skip building a fire and headed off to bed fairly early, around 10pm. Of course all of our neighbors in the campground stayed up later. At the far end of the camp we had obnoxious hicks who insisted on playing their bass-heavy truck stereo hours into the night. On either side of us were small yelping dogs and small whining children. By the sound of it you'd think it was a thoroughly unpleasant experience; but actually none of the noises were that unusual or unexpected, and they did stop before it got too late (or early). Despite having to wrestle with my sleeping bag a couple of times to keep out the cold, I slept pretty well, considering.

Early Saturday morning it was so cold that I decided to keep sleeping in the tent until it warmed up a bit outside. We got up and made breakfast around 9:30 or so. Breakfast was "Little Sizzlers" and pancakes with blackberry syrup. Mmm mmm good! I was proud of myself for avoiding any major disasters while cooking the pancakes.

The biggest adventure of the trip was next. We packed up camp and loaded it in the car. We drove north on the main road towards Trinity Mountain. Before the road got too steep and trecherous, we parked, ate some lunch, and began riding our mountain bikes. For a second day, I was impressed with the quality of riding and the scenery we were experiencing. We certainly had to work, and we dealt with some intermittent heat, but by and large, it was one of the nicest mountain bike rides I've ever done. The second half of the ride was much harder than the first. We had already expended a good amount of energy before the road became steeper, rockier, and more exposed to the sun. Soon we began to wonder how much more rugged climbing we'd have to do before we came to our ideal destination-a mountain lake. We soldiered on for another couple of miles and another thousand feet of climbing until we came to a spot that offered some brilliant views of the mountains around us. The mountain side below us was filled with wildflowers. I didn't mind too much that we didn't make it too a mountain lake. I relished the feeling of being so high and having arrived there by my own power. I could understand how mountain climbing could be addictive.

The ride down the mountain took no time at all. I let Fern take the lead. She descended so quickly, there were times I wondered if I was going to be able to catch up to her. She rode faster than I've ever seen her ride a mountain bike before. And I know she had a lot of fun. We were both all smiles when we arrived at the car.

I drove us back home. On the way I had some good moments listening to The Killers and early Cranberries. By the time we arrived back in Boise, we were both dying for a shower.

And here we are at the end of my story. I never know how to conclude a blog, so I'll just do so with awkward silence....beginning now.........

Quickie Bike Ride

2008-07-21T22:03:00.000-07:00

I arrived home from work at approximately 8:15pm this evening. After a couple of motion-free moments on the couch, I got back up and prepared for a road ride. I hit the road around 8:40.

The ride was excellent. As I've recently expressed, a lot of enjoyment can be had simply by carefully metering out one's effort while riding a road bike. The bikes are so light and responsive that there is very little "contamination" of one's power as it's transferred into forward motion. So I felt this tonight when I rode up Shaw Mountain Road to the top of Table Rock.

The route involves some gradual to moderate climbing for the first couple of miles. As the paved road passes million dollar homes, it's grade increases dramatically. I'd guess that the road angles up around 13-15% and maintains that grade for 2-4 minutes worth of hard effort. After the steepest section, the road continues to climb for a quarter mile or so. To get to the top of Table Rock (which is the large plateau east of Boise with an imposing, lighted cross on top), you have to travel up a steep and rocky road for another quarter mile. All in all, the route covers 4-5 miles and involves about 900 feet of climbing.

This evening I chose to push a bigger than average gear and maintain a higher than average speed. Which meant that I was breathing hard harder than average and my legs were pretty loaded. But it felt great applying so much power. And my legs, despite the task I gave them, kept rising to the occasion. At no point did they weaken. This is what cyclists refer to as having "good legs". Some days you have them, some days you don't. Today was my day.

The descent is one of the few around that can give me a big thrill. First, I have to negotiate the dirt road, which isn't so consistently rocky that I can't let it rip for a few moments. And when thing are rough and sketchy, it's a lot of fun picking the best lines and letting the bike bounce over the things I don't miss. After the road returns to pavement, there's a sharp left hand turn that requires scrubbing some speed. But the remaining turns are gradual enough that one can ride down the entire 13-15% grade without touching the brakes. By the time I reach the middle of the descent, I'm traveling well over 40 miles an hour. To be honest, I do usually slow down slightly because I know there are deer in the area, and the last thing I want to do is pile into one. There's that, and the fact that the speed limit is 25mph once you get into the houses. I can imagine someone complaining if I sped into their neighborhood at 50mph.

Josh, the fallen leaf

2008-07-18T13:39:00.001-07:00

I'm quick, jumping, responsive, and agile. That's sometimes. You'll see it when I'm on my bike or on the job. Other times I'm moving slowly; like this afternoon, cruising across town. Pedaling at what feels like a snail's pace.

Later, I read a book and sipped coffee. Tilted my head and shifted my gaze deliberately, slowly.

Speed and slowness can be perfected. It takes years of training, of heightening one's self awareness to master the art of inner and outer motion. And for peace, the mind and body must constantly adjust their speed to fall in line with the pace of the autonomous spirit. Sometimes the spirit wants to fly and other times it settles like a fallen leaf. Being aware of one's disposition and offering it as little resistance as possible will bring you contentment. Thus sayeth the Zen Master.

Anyway, I've been a fallen leaf lately. Which isn't the best thing at work, where performance is required. The tension created between my peace-seeking disposition and the war-like surrounding of George's Cycles can be unpleasant. But the general calm and slowness that I've been feeling has made for some quality moments while reading, cruising, and hanging out by the pool. I even managed to maintain my mellow at the gym this afternoon as I randomly picked activities to engage in.

I look forward to a road bike ride this evening. Bike rides are always enjoyable because you get to play games with speed. You get to practice turning it on and turning it off. There's no more effective way of transforming your will into pure velocity than riding a road bike. You feel powerful even if you're not in shape. And it can be a lot of fun. Who knows, it may even bring you closer to enlightenment.

July 16, 2008

2008-07-16T15:02:00.000-07:00

So I'm going about bettering myself. I'm riding my bike, reading books, working out, working hard. And I'm going around looking for fun, looking for pleasure. Good food, good sex, quality entertainment, moments of bliss.

Things are always a bit more complicated, of course. Fun isn't always had when you plan on it and sometimes it pops up when you're not expecting it. My mood can be set for an entire day by a single interaction or one missed meal. Life can be tricky.

But lately its been rather mellow and pleasant. Calm was only recently interrupted by visiting relatives (Mom and Carla) and a hectic workplace. Mom joined Fern and friends and myself for fun in the park during Fourth of July celebrations. We rode bikes and played smashmitten. The fireworks show was the best (closest) I've seen in many many years. It was good to see Mom so lively and fun loving. And she's as sharp as ever. When Carla came to town, Fern and I took her to The Balcony for drinks and dancing. Mom tried to get us all to a Mormon singles dance but she ended up being the one turning us back when she saw all the unattractive older men there. Carla, Mom and I toured the Old State Penitentary, something that I had never done completely and so thoroughly. The facility truly represents the opposite of freedom, with the tiniest of cells and dungeon-like solitary confinement. On Mom and Carla's last full day here, we drove up to Blue Lake in the mountains west of Cascade, and witnessed some of the most beautiful wilderness in the state. Overall, I think we experienced Boise and Idaho at their best, though just a few degrees warmer.

Work and I continue to kick each other's asses. That's to say I think I provide excellent customer service, sell a lot of bikes, and work overtime to ensure we have the bike inventory we need; but I tend to come home after an eleven or twelve hour day completely beat up, with little or no time for any activity besides vegging out in front of the TV. Days off, like today, can be less than perfect because I don't have a lot of energy for getting chores or excercise done. Rather, sometimes, like today, I'll opt to chill out and read and take it easy most of the day.

At the M this afternoon I had one of the best vanilla lattes of my life and read a very engaging yet disturbing book entitled The Great Controversy Between Christ and Satan. So far, the author has recounted the history of Christianity with a focus on Satan's role in the develpment of the Catholic church. The book certainly captures the fundamentalist American Christian church's view of reality. Its pretty scary actually, which makes it especially entertaining for me.

After my reading marathon (just a couple of hours) at the M, I stopped in at the Lux and Macy's to shop for work shorts. I get hot at work, with all the running around I do, and I think it would help if my work outfit was a tad cooler. I found a couple pairs of acceptable shorts at Macy's and put them on my charge card. Just thought you should know...

Tonight it'll be fun with Fern. Hopefully that'll include getting some good exercise--maybe the gym, a bike ride, or some splish-splashing in the pool. I'm really fond of intense physical activity followed by good food and equally intense leisure time. At least that's the general template I try to follow. We'll see how things go.

Summer Has Arrived

2008-06-29T20:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary (or Persons Who Are Dying To Know What I Am Up To),
Just recently, I enjoyed three straight days of doing nothing related to work. It was three straight days of doing only that which I felt inclined to do. On Thursday, I made my way to the Flying M for banana bread and a mocha. I took a book with me that I've recently become enthusiastic about. It's entitled Freedom's Ferment and it was written by Alice Felt Tyler way back in 1944. The author describes in a very fair, objective manner, the "Phases of American Social History from the Colonial Period to the Outbreak of the Civil War". It's really interesting to read about social experiments, religious and nearly-secular utopias, that existed as semi-successful communities in America at one time or another. We're talking about groups that might be considered cults if they existed today. But they were actually well thought out social systems; complete with their own economic and moral codes of conduct meant to uphold absolute equality, justice, and (in most cases) adherence to God's will here on Earth. It's interesting how many of these groups sprung up after the Enlightenment. And it's interesting to read about the ideas the founding members of the groups had. On their face, some ideas seem very good (like Brook Farm set up a system in which everyone was payed the same for their labor, and everyone was expected to engage in manual labor of some sort--even the children). Unsurprisingly, most groups failed economically (like communism tends to do), but its interesting to read about what worked, what didn't, and why.

So I read just a little of this book Thursday at the Flying M Coffee House before Edvin (Jennifer's best friend's husband) made an appearance. He sat down and we chatted for a bit before Jennifer showed up. Fern and I set off to get lunch at Pollo Rey moments later.

After lunch I decided to do more reading at the new Starbucks in the Boise State University Library. The Idaho Historical Museum is on the way to the university. There in front of the museum was a poster indicating an exhibit inside about Freemasons, and the history of Freemasonry in Idaho. I decided to nerd out and have a big museum experience all by myself. It's nice to take your sweet time to read all about things like guns and toys used by early settlers or stare into glass cases that contain things like the Freemason's handbook or an early picture projector made for their meetings. The exhibit actually featured a real (barely) living Mason sitting at a table with a sign posted welcoming visitors to "ask a Freemason". I really wanted to ask the guy some tough questions (like "what's the deal with adopting religious symbols like the cross?", or "why would a person want to join?", or "do the masons strive to affect policy making?"; and, "if I join, can I drive one of the silly little cars, or do I have to reach a certain level first, like High Master?) Alas, I didn't have the, how do you say, balls to ask. I just walked on by and nodded a hello.

Anyway, after reading and enjoying a vanilla latte at the library Starbucks, I nerded out in the map section of the library. There the library has some fantastic, wonderful, topographical maps of areas of the Owyhees that Fern and I have recently explored. I really really wanted to photocopy portions of the maps, but again I did not have the balls. I refrained from breaking federal copyright laws and just sat there and tried to memorize them.

That evening, when Fern became available, we had ourselves a nice mountain bike ride up Your Mom, Freeway, and Sidewinder, down Sidewinder and Red Sands. A short distance into the ride, we were on the scene when a rider going far too fast for his skill level crashed while descending down on Your Mom. It was both embarrassing and painful for him as he acquired some pretty large abrasions over various parts of his body. We asked if he was OK. He said he just needed to lie there a moment. It was apparent that he hadn't actually broken a bone, so we rode on.

Returning to town, we stopped at what used to be Lucky 13 in Hyde Park for a beer.

I cleaned away half of my Friday. The apartment had been neglected for a week or two and things were getting a little stanky. So it was definately time to clean. Also, that evening there was planned a get-together at my place and my apartment complex's swimming pool. Leah, David, and Amy showed up first around 6pm. Fern showed up a little later, followed by Elizabeth and Edvin. After some small talk about some large subjects, most of us jumped in the pool. There was a lot of splish-splashing and otherwise child-like behavior going on. I felt very proud of myself for coming up with a super fun contest. Two people stood facing each other across the short length of the pool. They stood in the water where it came up to their necks. On the count of three, they would see who could "walk" or "tip toe" to the other side of the pool the fastest, without using their hands or arms. It was a basic race, but a very very slow and funny one. Funny that is, until I realized how rubbed raw my toes were from scraping them on the rough bottom of the pool.

I had provided some smoked sausages with sauerkraut and mustard, as well as cheap beer. Fun was had in the pool, despite a few minor injuries (Leah scraped the top of her toe and David got a charley horse). Elizabeth, Edvin, Fern, and I finished the night off with some energetic bouts of Smash mitten.

Saturday has been Fern and I's adventure day the last few weeks. And we've had some good ones. But this last Saturday was extra hot and we were a little tired of driving a few hours on our day off, so we opted to stay in Boise and have as nice of a day close to home as possible. To this end, we got on our bikes early, after a brief Flying M experience, and rode up Shanes and Three Bears. Three Bears features a succession of three or more very hard climbs (the whole thing is actually climbing). Fern dug into her suitcase of courage and performed excellently on some very strenuous climbs, despite the temperature heating up quickly. I was impressed.

After a shower, we went to our favorite spot for lunch on Saturdays, Tacabi (used to be named Koi), and had some tasty eats. I got my usual, Tom Yum Seafood Ramen, which is a ramen noodle soup with all kinds of seafood--mussels, scallops, shrimp, squid?, and something else. It's like dipping your soup spoon (or chopsticks) into the ocean and pulling out the best it has to offer. Fern ordered a bento box that had all kinds of good things in it.

Next, Fern and I chose to beat the mid-day heat by doing a little shopping. We stopped by our favorite Youth Ranch in Garden City. I found three very intriguing books ("Reasoning from Scriptures" [an oxymoron], "The Birth and Death of Meaning" [an ambitious book explaining why we are the way we are by tapping into the cummulative wisdom/knowledge of science], and a Christian book that focuses on the end of days and the antichrist.) We then checked out George's biggest competitor, Bob's Bicycles on Fairview. Afterwards, we visited the mall to find Fern a swim suit that wouldn't fall off her body like her old one tended to do. Upon arrival, I outlined the goal--to find a swim suit that fits absolutely perfectly, that is sexy, and which Fern feels 100% comfortable and confident in. Jennifer did not start off with a whole lot of enthusiasm for the mission because of all the difficulty she anticipated having finding something acceptable. The last store we tried, Macy's, had a pretty extensive selection of women's bathing suits, and some were actually stylish. I helped Fern search through the racks for something that would fit (I'm a good boyfriend). I found a top and a short-style bottom that both looked like the perfect size and went well together. Fern tried them on and they looked absolutely amazing on her. I gave my enthusiastic approval, she liked it as well, and this is how she ended up spending almost a hundred dollars on a bathing suit. Like I told her, it could be a long summer and we would make sure she got a lot of use out of the suit.

Did I go on about that? Sorry. Well, we got so excited about bathing suits, that I started shopping for one for myself. See, I really don't like the baggy board shorts that basically every guy wears. I envisioned myself getting something Speedo-like. Something much smaller and snugger that would show off my nice toosh, see. Long story short, that is exactly what I got at the Swim and Run Shop. I didn't get the tiniest Speedo, but one with a more short-like fit. Still, what I bought is very small and snug, which I like. Fern approves as well. I anticipate having one of the nicest tans of my life this summer, thanks to those shorts.

Of course Fern and I had to go straight to my place to try out our new swim wear in the pool. Neighbors were packed in the pool for some birthday party, so at first we sat in the sun reading. There were some extraordinarily trashy people at the pool. One lady sat in the water smoking a cigarrette with one hand and holding a beer in the other. Some guy made a big scene by loosing his temper and knocking over a chair. He was actually loosing his temper for a good 5-10 minutes-swearing up a storm. Several people left the scene for fear of being involved in some sort of domestic incident. He was a fire cracker, that guy. It was like watching an episode of Cops, just that the cops hadn't shown up yet. Fern and I just chuckled and continued floating around on our noodles.

And that was my three day weekend, what seemed like a real start to summer 2008.

Bringing the Sexy Back

2008-06-20T10:33:00.000-07:00

Woohoo! I'm back! Let's parTAY!!

I don't know about the rest of you (who will need to be personally notified about this important occurrence), but I'm really excited to be a fully present and contributing citizen of the world wide web once again. My two blogs, Engage and Reconstruction of Disbelief, have sat idle for months, and though I'm sure you've all been re-reading every word, every precious sentence, day after day, I do think its time for some fresh offerings; offerings plucked from the lush, expansive garden that is my enormous brain.

So yeah, let's get this party started!! (cue C&C Music Factory)

How about an intellectual appetizer, a tasty little nugget of thought, to begin our celebration? I can offer you the subject of liberty and the precise limits to the legitimate interference of collective opinion with individual independence. Or you may care to discuss the basis for morality in general. Does there exist a moral basis that could be called objective, or is it the rule that we merely adopt moral principles that seem to be the best in our own judgement? Perhaps moral precepts simply fall into our laps at birth, handed down to us by accident by the culture in which we are born. Who knows?? The only thing that is certain is that the answer will really get the party hopping! (cue "Love Shack", by the B52s)

For those who choose to skip the fluff and go straight for the main course, may I suggest a critique of various arguments for a creator as presented by several natural scientists of the 20th century? Perhaps we shall join together and participate in a discussion aimed at settling once and for all what, precisely constitutes a "quality" lifestyle. Afterwards, we could re-open the Bible and continue to discover startling facts and insights about God which we were previously unaware of. Once we knew God like our own brother, we could attempt to wrap our heads around natural selection. What is the story of Life on Earth? I suspect that whatever it is, it will make a fantastic bedtime story! No doubt we'll be good and tired and ready for bed after such an intellectual feast.

But first we must have dessert! There will be several choices to delight the palate. Some of us will discuss and analyze the integrity of knowledge. Others may dish up a bowl of Utopian society. Still, there will be more treats to sample, including the concerns of great thinkers in history. Finally, we'll drift off to sleep, newly inspired by a proclamation on the real treasures of "being" in this modern age.

Yeehaw!! This is going to be the best party ever!! Let's do this thang!! (cue Justin Timberlake's "Bring the Sexy Back")

Shifting Your Conceptions

2007-08-16T13:07:00.000-07:00

One of these days, when you have a brilliant thought while doing the dishes, you'll be able to prompt your home computer vocally and record the thought for posterity. Or as soon as you dry off your hands and make yourself a cup of tea, you may choose to sit down on your couch and really explore the idea thoroughly. It's hard to imagine this technology not making its way into our lives at some point. With voice activation and recognition technology, data storage, search engines like Google, and a myriad of other lifestyle related technologies already developed, it's just a matter of time before we're speaking to our computers and our computers are speaking back. It'll be just like Star Trek the Next Generation, except for the whole flying through outer space thing. Oh, and somehow I doubt we'll abandon our Levis for futuristic onesies.

What if you asked, "Computer, what is showing at the Shakespeare Festival tonight?" and the computer immediately answered back? What if, while riding my bike, I could record a thought like, "If it weren't for men being influenced and changed by women-by women's feminine instincts-humanity would have never risen above its original barbaric state"? What if someone told you the title of a book they just read and you simply recorded it on the spot?

If these things were possible, essentially what you'd have is an advanced, turbo-charged mind. Furthermore, your mind would be less constrained by your body and more interwoven with the collective mind of humanity. This concept, the collective mind, has become more and more useful and appropriate over the past few centuries as books, libraries, the phone, high-speed travel, and the internet have freed our will and our minds of so many natural constraints.

There is no doubt that we live very unnatural lives thanks to technology. With that said, we have yet to know, appreciate, and, most importantly, accept, what it is about us that is in fact natural. We are still largely defined and controlled by our innate programming. Collectively, our genes have been geared towards one thing-keeping generation upon generation of our ancestors alive in the face of the most immediate threats, the storms and tides of life, as well as all gradual global adjustments.

We are the way we are because it is the only way we could be. If our ancestors had been any other way they would have joined the countless life forms which returned to the soil before successfully reproducing. Life on this planet is a billion different stories of how just a few variations of one replicating organism ducked and weaved their way past threat after threat until a billion years later we see them both as they are and as our minds interpret them to be.

We conceptualize everything, even ourselves. Creatures are cute, beautiful, majestic, and scary because conceptualizing them as such helps us in some way. Our advanced mind-our genes- have used this advanced method of conceptualization to secure our survival; and in the process, grant us personality.

There's more to personality than the aggregate responses to concepts which we hold. How we think of something we experience directly affects how we feel towards that thing, but each of our feelings do not travel through the same exact filtering process on their way towards action. We all use knowledge and reason differently and to different degrees. Why? Because we have different capacities in this regard as well as different temperaments. Temperaments are likely that part of our personality which develop soon before and after our births. To a large extent, our life's happiness is likely predetermined in those early phases of development.

Still, I am excited about the power of conceptualization. Being able to change permanently or manipulate momentarily how we think of things both big and small is an act that holds much promise for our present and future happiness. Do you remember how things seemed so marvelous when you were a child? Yes, much of your excitement came from first experiences and mystery. But not being able to undo all that has been done is no excuse for not feeling those feelings still. There are always more things waiting to be experienced than those things which have already been experienced. And there will always be more mystery than there is knowledge.

More to my point, vibrant conceptualization which children are known for should not be something exclusive to them. It may not be natural for adults to willfully conceptualize themselves and all that is in their lives in any other way than what is expected of an adult, but this does not mean it would not be good to do so.

new post below and on "disbelief" (see link)

2007-08-07T09:49:00.000-07:00

The Josh Report, Summer 2007

2007-08-02T20:47:00.000-07:00

Recently, when I've thought about blogging, the act felt like something I did in the distant past, in another lifetime; and its not just blogging but writing itself which seems long forgotten. Actually, most days I tell myself I need to get back to the Bible project that I've started on The Reconstruction of Disbelief. I've barely just begun examining the Bible and have much work to do before bringing to light all of the book's shocking and terribly un-P.C. passages. I look forward to getting back to business. But its a different something that's been left unconsidered for too long. Compared to the Bible, the neglected subject is a little closer to home and infinitely more important, that subject being ME.

Everyone is special. Mr. Rogers told me so when I was but a wee lad in a onesy. We all have our unique talents. For example, I don't know of anyone else who is so adept at critical self analysis as me. Undoubtedly, this skill makes me extra special. What makes me even specialer is that I seem to have no qualms about airing my dirty and not-so-dirty laundry with friends, family, and strangers alike. Doing just that is what I'm up to tonight. Let's call it getting back to basics.

Or we can call it the Josh Report: How am I? How are things going? Instead of answering "pretty good", "not bad", or "great" and leaving it at that, I'll go one further and answer honestly; or at least in a more thorough manner, just for posterity.

How am I doing?

I'm not in pain, and I'm so glad about that. I'm feeling relatively healthy. Its a wonder I'm not experiencing big problems with my teeth. I have a broken molar and probably a few small cavities. Still no pain. My back feels sore every now and then but thankfully, unlike what most men my age contend with, it's pain free 95% of the time. I'm capable of intense exercise without any lasting pain or apparent damage to my body. Tonight, for example, I rode Corral's backwards, which includes what I'd call a category 2, 1, and "Beyond Category" climb. I felt great despite the difficulty of the climbs and the high pace I chose to carry over them. For the entire ride (including descending Bogus and riding across town) I averaged 13.3mph, climbed 1800 ft, and traveled just over 17 miles.

So I feel very lucky when I think about my physical condition. No disease, no cancer, no injury, no chronic pain, etc. Millions of people are much less lucky than I. I feel grateful.

Being free from pain doesn't mean I'm completely satisfied with my body. When it comes to the way one looks, I wonder if anyone is ever really satisfied. In concert with the nagging guilt that religions are so adept at infecting the general population with (a guilt which undermines our humble pursuit for happiness), nagging insecurity about the way we look certainly makes the proposition of contentment a rather complicated one.

Taking the proper perspective and attitude, I definitely cannot complain too loudly about whatever insecurities I feel on a day to day basis. Its really sort of cliche. I want bigger pecs, arms, neck, and abs. Look at the cover of the Men's Health or Bodybuilding magazines and you'll find the idealized (or grotesque) version of what every man, including myself, would like to see when he looks in the mirror.

But in a big way, it is not a shallow thing, desiring to be healthy and sexy. Completely ignored, it is hard to imagine a person overcoming negative self image, poor health, and a lack-luster sex life and still ending up happy. Sexual desire and sexual satisfaction are the most natural of forces. Both happen to be dependent upon positive self image. Even if it were accepted (as it should be) that one's value is not determined to any extent by one's beauty or health, it could still be agreed that looking and feeling good are of the utmost importance. There is no denying that our physical appearance has powerful effects on both ourselves and others. Generally, these effects play out throughout our lives (social acceptance and self esteem). Specifically, they can play a powerful role in our sex lives (sparking excitement/passion). The reason I'm concerned about my physical appearance is because I want myself and my girlfriend to feel good both in our relationship and in our bed. I know that while letting myself go, not being clean, and generally making no effort to be attractive would not guarantee that her feelings would change, I still do not take for granted the importance of attraction for maintaining or increasing our bond. And I'm completely aware of how I feel much better in all instances when I feel healthy and look good.

So this all boils down to: Yeah, I ought to work out more.

When it comes to the way in which I live, I have mixed emotions. I tend to leave messes about for fairly long periods of time before I clean them up. I don't feel terrible about this. It would be more regretful if I spent too much time cleaning rather than not enough time because having a clean desk or kitchen is not the most important thing in the world. Still, I can feel disgusted, less content, and mildly stressed in the presence of my little messes. I hope I can very, very gradually change my habits. I say "very, very" because I recognize that this is not something I can expect instant success with. Also, I've considered how having less Things and less room would mean spending less of my time cleaning, arranging, ordering, or finding these Things.

My way of life includes my place of living. I live in Boise, Idaho. Time and again I've been unable to imagine a place more suitable to a quality existence than this little city by the river, nestled against the foothills of a range of mountains. Yet more and more I'm finding the weather to be a source of extreme discomfort. I've become much more sensitive to the heat than I remember being in years past. The last month in Boise has been the hottest month on record here. The town has experienced weeks of 90-100+ degree temperatures. It has put a huge damper on my outdoor fun, and simply makes me hurt. The sun hurts. Needless to say, I am developing some very strong feelings about moving to a cooler climate.

I work too much. Ultimately, I intend on working no more than 32 hours a week. Of course, I plan on paying off debt, saving for old-age & emergencies, traveling, and living well. How exactly this will happen, I am not sure, but mark my words, I will make it happen. You see, this is how I plan on beating the system. The "system" is one in which life is about working to buy things and to support a large family. Constant stress and debt is a part of the system. Abandoning freedom is a part of the system. Day to day leisure, fun, and hobbies are not. Also, "work" which does not involve making money is not a part of the system. If I ever expect to have time for fun and "work"-work which follows from my own unique passions and causes-I simply cannot work for money 40+ hours a week. Furthermore, life for me will not be about constantly trying to catch up financially. It will not always struggle to find time. Paradoxically, some time will have to pass before I achieve these things.

I've got to admit that right now, life is a little more bland than I'd like it. The constant heat is partially to blame. The 40 hour work week is also to blame. Working 4 ten hour days can just about kill those days completely. I'm rather pooped by the time I get off work. One of my three days off is devoted to cleaning and errands, which leaves two days of bike riding, reading, thinking, relaxing, perhaps writing, and engaging in little adventures/activities with Jennifer. Occasionally things will be mixed up a bit when a relative visits (Seth and Jessica have both visited in the last month).

But there's no doubt that when it comes to making life more exciting, I'm the one who holds sole responsibility. There is a void in my life that needs to be filled with special and unusual activities yet to be discovered. I have a vague idea of the type of activities these are, but I'll remain silent until I can actually spell them out. All I can say is that doing so is a priority because mixing it up and having fun is a priority.

This ought to do for now. I thought I might do a bit more soul searching regarding life's goals, but that will have to wait. Till next time...

Mini Vacation; Salmon, Idaho

2007-06-19T06:29:00.000-07:00

The calendar might not officially recognize this moment as summer, but in my mind it is and I've already begun having lots of summer fun. The season means its time for vacations, camping, exploring, and occassionally getting too hot and subsequently cooling down in frigid water shared by wildland creature of all sorts. This weekend I experienced these things and more.

Camping can be done a lot of different ways. Some camp outdoors with a tent, trailing dirt and mosquitos behind them with every step they take. Others camp in a camper; frying bacon, having sex, and relieving themselves inside the same 100 sqare foot box. And then there are people like Jennifer and I, who choose as their base camp a cabin equiped with amenities like a full sized bed, a shower, ceiling fan, and space heater. These folks might even consider it "camping" if a kindly older woman serves them breakfast in the morning- a breakfast of eggs, sausage and flapjacks smothered in homemade syrup. Fern and I happen to agree that experiencing the outdoors is amazing and that being able to leave our wilderness friends behind when one craves a shower or a mocha is amazinger.

So, on Thursday morning, Fern and I left Boise (Flying M mochas safely stowed in the Toyota Corrola's cup holder) and drove towards the popular mini-vacation destination, Salmon, Idaho. The first half of the trip was far more pleasant than I expected. I credit good music, good company, and my own good attitude for making molehills out of the mountains we had to drive over between Boise and Stanley.

Just a thought: The best parts of any vacation, I've learned, is the expectation and setting-out parts. They are so exciting and fun. It comes as no surprise that the no-so-fun part of any vacation is the going back home part. Going back home lacks the excitement that setting out does. Setting out involves a positive impatience laced with mystery. Wanting to get home after a vacation is wanting to return to the comfort of home. Its wanting to end the stressful and monotonous travel. Its less of a positive impatience, thanks to a lack of mystery, among other things.

Well, as we approached Stanley, halfway through the setting out part, we turned off the highway and followed directions to a trailhead a few miles up a dirt road. There we geared up and set off on a fun n' mellow 20 mile mountain bike ride. The ride included just a bit of climbing, but mostly it was rolling terrain over small rocks (what some mountain bikers morbidly call "baby heads"), through the trees, along side beautiful meadows, and across streams.

Fern succeeded in posting a blog on this particular Salmon trip before I did, and after reading it, I feel that she gave a rather full and acurate treatment of our mountain bike ride near Stanley. I'll add that while I felt silly singing "No bear, don't want no bear, ain't no bear round heerreee!" or "I couldn't bare a bare bear drinking beer and baring his teeth" and stuff of that nature, I felt it necessary and proper considering I very much don't want to ever find myself in a situation where a bear is chomping on my gourd or-god forbid-the gourd of someone with me. I've got a great imagination, which is part of the problem. I've imagined fighting off cougars and dogs but I've never been able to imagine successfully pinning a bear. So, yeah, this was on my mind during both rides over the weekend.

After the ride on Thursday, we had lunch in Stanley at the Lodge. Fern had a chili-cheese burger, I had a customized mushroom cheese burger. FYI. The drive from Stanley to Challis was kinda cool. The road was windy, the Salmon river turbulent, and surrounding mountains very interesting. They were green, red, grey...and of extreme shapes and sizes. According to the map, it was a mineral rich area spotted with gold, silver, and lead mines.

The valley Challis sits in is a very special place as well. A bit of an agricultural oasis sitting between major mountain ranges, that valley. Driving north involved squeezing through some extremely shere, rugged rock cliffs. It didn't take much more driving to get to the Greyhouse Inn Bed and Breakfast, which is situated 11 miles south of Salmon. I thought I had weathered the drive quite well-my mood was still intact-but that quickly changed when the owner of the inn informed us that she was going to place us in a cabin for both nights. When Fern and I had made our reservations the night before we had chosen a cute room in the old house for the first night and a cabin room for the second night. The reason the owner gave us for making the change without consulting us or acting as though she cared in the slightest about what we preferred was that she didn't want to have to make the beds in the room.

At moments like the one I found myself in on Thursday night, I often think of my older sister who is the most assertive member of the family, who does not hesitate to demand satisfaction or fairness whenever she finds them lacking. The example she has been to me has given me the courage to speak up when I find something (like a meal) not up to my expectations/standards. In this case, however, I was OK with moving to the Cabin because I could not think of any good reason why I shouldn't be OK with it. The lack of a good reason did not prevent me from being pretty dissapointed-I really thought it would be awesome to stay in a room in that cool, 100+ year-old house.

So, I was a bit sulky Thursday night. And the drive had taken its toll. All Fern and I wanted to do was relax and snack and drink beers on the porch, yet beers were in Salmon, a full 11 miles away. After much himming and hawing, we realized we would die if we didn't have some cold beers to drink on such a warm evening. So we just did it-we drove really really fast to Salmon and stocked up on comfort food n' drink. Before heading back we cruised a bit and checked out the town. We saw many exciting places that we wanted to visit the next day.

Sleep was not so good Thursday night/Friday morning. More accurately, it was virtually non-existent for me. There was this noise coming from the ceiling fan that was just random and loud enough to drive me crazy. Also, the room was a bit on the warm side, even with the ceiling fan. Now do you see why Fern and I have sworn off sleeping in tents? We have a hard time sleeping anywhere besides our own carefully arranged nests at home.

On Friday morning we arose and made our way to the house for breakfast. We shared a table with other guests and enjoyed a homemade breakfast of eggs, sausages, pancakes, orange juice, and excellent coffee. While eating breakfast we discussed and planned our big events for the day: a trip to town and a big bike ride in the mountains.

First we went to town in search of mochas as is our custom. We wandered the town, admiring some of the old brick homes (my favorite comment at times like those is "my mom would love to live here!" and usually, I would too). We relished doing the tourist thang in that cute Idaho town. We took photos, walked in and out of shops, and really had a good time at the Lemhi County Museum. Ultimately I procured a mocha at an establishment that doubled as an outdoor outfitter. Before heading back to the cabin, we stocked up on a few supplies for our upcoming bike adventure.

Again, Fern has done a fine job of telling you all about our Friday bike ride. I'll add that Yes it was Hot! And No, it was not as difficult of a climb as I thought it might be. Still, it was the perfect ride because we got a killer workout, we made it to quite a high altitude, the scenery was nice, and Fern had a good time. Yes, I had a good time as well, but since Fern is more sensitive to the heat and has had to deal with after-fall fear, my desire was that she enjoy herself. Finally, I'll add that the fact that the return trip was all downhill back to our cabin was a huge bonus.

That evening we cleaned up and went to town for dinner, a walk, and a brief bar experience. Dinner was amazing. My favorite item was the beer-battered giant mushrooms and zuccini. Fern's salmon was amazing as well-she shared. Our walk included some happy fun times on Island Park, where I was skipping stones like a pro until swarms of mosquitos drove me back.

Pooped at the end of the night, we headed back to the cabin and slept much better than the night before. The next morning we took advantage of the free breakfast again. I thought it rather funny when the host asked if everyone had introduced themselves and I said "no"--everyone proceeded to keep to themselves. I was there for the food, not for the small talk with random American strangers.

The drive back to Boise started OK. We enjoyed a bit of Arcade Fire on the stereo. I bought Fern a Star tabloid in Challis, which I flipped through as we drove towards Mackay. The valley north and west of Mackay, which the highway passes through, along with the mountains, offered the most beautiful scenery of the trip. We stopped in Mackay to take photos and walk around the town. There were several yard sales going on. Always game, we browsed through the second hand wares. I bought The Absolute Best of John Denver, a Two Disc Collection for $6.00.

The drive out of Mackay is when things started to suck. First, we had that whole bike-falling-off-the-rack episode. Fern described the scene well in her blog except I think my first words were actually "Oh my god....your bike isn't on the rack!" The next 30 minutes included 5 minutes of freaking out and 25 minutes of thanking our lucky stars. After that I never felt very comfortable driving down the road with so much wind and traffic (on the freeway).

By the time we got to Craters of the Moon, I was ready to be done with traveling for the day. But first we had to see the monument. We rode our bikes into the park and did a 5 mile loop around some cinder cones. We stopped and walked up next to a couple lava cones in order to have a look inside. Shockingly, one of them had snow down inside. Guess they don't call em ice caves for nothing. The entire experience at the monument actually kind of sucked. It was hella windy and quite hot. And we just wanted to get home.

It was a long drive to Mountain Home and I hate being on freeways, but we did get home with several hours left in the day to unpack and unwind, which was nice.

I'm looking forward to this next weekend when I'll have another three days off in a row. I'm not sure what I'll do-maybe just stay in town-but I think it would be great if Fern and I kept having a lot of summer fun, just maybe without as much driving this time.

2007-05-31T21:21:00.000-07:00

hey you...I just posted something I wrote a few months ago. you've got to go back a couple posts...its called "A Crazy Coincidence".

Post Traumatic NYC Disorder

2007-05-21T19:41:00.000-07:00

Soul-sapping city, that New York. The fact that I'm running a little below E on my Living Essense-o-meter can't be blamed entirely on The Big Apple. Sure, being tightly packed among so many unhappy people made me feel more like a rat in a race or an ant on a hill than a human being; but there's no denying that we manufacture our own reality, our own happiness, in the recesses of our own minds. We sometimes let ourselves down, there's no denying. With further analysis, we find that the mind is actually an inseperable part of the body. One cannot easily differentiate the health of the mind from that of the body. What I'm trying to get at is that greater insight into the funk that is Now is revealed in the knowledge that I was more or less awake from 8:30 Saturday morning to 2:30 Sunday afternoon; and inbetween that time I was transported a thousand miles or two via nearly every mode of locomotion available to man, save the back of some furry creature. A lack of sleep is one thing. A lack of sleep while on planes trains and automobiles is a different thing entirely.

Whatever. I'm in a funk and a like it. While some resist the downward slide with all their might, I perform a swan-dive down, down into its greatest depths. Its fine. There are no rocks below the surface, I know from experience...

What I need to do more than anything is write. The feeling is pretty overwhelming. I've been asking myself for a while now, "what is worth saying?" and I feel prepared to answer that in expansive detail. I'm briefly reminded of when I was a wee chap of just a couple years old, when for no apparent reason, I suddenly stopped talking. I must have had nihilistic inclinations even then. I almost remember thinking that the answer to the question is "nothing"-there's nothing worth talking about. Instead, for a while I just "meowed" like a cat. I thought it was cute and just as meaninful as speaking, but I think it worried my parents. Anyway, I was wrong about there not being anything worth saying. First of all, the value of talking, of chatting, is intrinsic. What one says is far less important than the fact that one says what one wants or needs to say. You don't need me to tell you that talking is thearaputic. And I think that it goes without saying that for most, talking is happiness. Sadly, I am not one of these people. I am not one of these "talkers" who would love nothing more than to have a rapt audience absorbing their every word throughout the day and into the night. Talking then is of lesser value to me. I'm left to listen more, while the substance of speech, as well as of everthing I read, moves ever so slightly to the fore. This is my explanation for why, every now and then, when I'm in a particularly dour mood, I feel a little like I'm swimming around in a sea of nothingness. At those times, nothing is what I find worthy of much discussion (even though it all is) and if there is something important enough, I'm not qualified to speak about it for any length of time, or else the subject requires a slow, methodical treatment. Pretty screwed up, huh? The point is that its high time I start writing again, because there's so much to say, and this is the only way I know how to find it.

But first, letls talk about the Big Apple. Yesterday, Fern and I returned from there after a week long vacation. I've already left you with the impression that I didn't have the best of times. Well, that's true, but I there were also times of significant contenment, relaxation, pleasure, happiness and joy. What comes to mind is:

Walking through the beautiful Bryant Park, the sun setting between the skyscrapers, marvelling at the NYC Public Library, and casually walking east to the UN building.
Many quality breakfasts on the second story of the Cranberry Cafe, people watching, as we looked forward to whatever the day had in store for us.
Walking across the Brooklyn Bridge and into Brooklyn with Seth, taking in stunning views of the bridge and city all the way (sorry you missed it Fern!).
Setting off by myself on the subway while Fern met up with Lola. Emerging in the West Village and roaming freely throughout the beautiful neighborhood of brownstowns, etc.
A couple of very good nights sleep on the comfortable bed of our hostel's room--including relaxing before bed watching CSI NYC.
Watching Spamalot on Broadway.
Taking a ferry boat ride around half the island-particularly some spectacular views (and accompanying photo shoot) near the Brooklyn Bridge and downtown. We saw the Statue of Liberty but she just looked kind of menacing and manly.
People watching on South Broadway from a window seat in a cafe as a storm and high wind gusts blew people around on the street.
The Camper shoe store. The Journey's shoe store where I bought a great pair of Diesels.
Sitting in NYCs oldest church and jotting down some thoughts about why people believe.
The beauty and clarity of the billboards in Time Square at night.
An excellent Sushi experience with Lola and Fern.
Eating at Panna II
An amazing shrimp pasta primevara at an Irish Pub...beers as well.
Walking through the meatpacking district with Fern.
The view from The Top of The Rock (Rockefeller Center).

More will come in the next day or two. I'll be sure to share those thoughts and more pictures soon.

Wisdom Comes With Age

2007-04-26T00:00:00.000-07:00

Wisdom comes with age, they say, and I believe them. I wouldn't suspect that The Old's monopoly on wisdom has to do with their fear of death, their declining mental faculties, and a last ditch effort to hold onto self worth. No, the thought hasn't passed my aging, wiser mind at all. I know that experience does in fact beget greater wisdom. Take tonight as an example.

Tonight, after enjoying a walk with my girlfriend Jennifer, I stopped in at a local establishment called Terrapin Station to take in a show featuring my friend Travis and the band he plays in, Rammed Earth. Having heard that there were some other quality bands playing tonight in the same venue, I settled into my new environment, expecting a musical experience that would likely last a couple of hours or more.

So I purchased a beer and listened to The Rammed Earth. I emptied the beer, and purchased a Jack and Coke. The band finished. I talked to a guy I knew from Moos Cycles from back in the day-a friend of Travis's named Zane-and emptied my first Jack and Coke. I ordered a second. By this time I was feeling my alcohol, feeling rather good, and talking with Travis while enjoying band number two, called The Very Most.

The next and final band up hailed from Portland, Oregon. I anticipated good things from this band because, well, they're from Portland, and I don't know if there ever was a bad band that came from that place. In addition, a couple of the band members were extraordinarily skinny, which could only mean that they were REAL rockers who did nothing but play their instruments and inject themselves with some funky drug or two on a regular basis. To celebrate this special occassion-the eye witnessing of a Portland band that I'd never heard of before-I ordered a third Jack and Coke and sat back to enjoy the show.

My suspicions were validated. The band was a veritable talent bomb. They rocked the house, as I prefer to say. My good buzz turned into a very good buzz/nearly really drunk buzz, just as I had planned.

This is where experience and wisdom comes into play. I've consumed enough alcohol at this point in my life that I know what works for me and what doesn't, and in what proportions n' rates I should consume these beverages in order to achieve the optimal buzz without overdoing it. Tonight was the second time in just over a week that I was able to carefully injest just the right drinks in the perfect amount to ensure a quality buzz without any negative results. If this doesn't demonstrate a wisdom that comes with age, I don't know what does.

Last Tuesday I attended a Modest Mouse concert at the Big Easy. It was one of the best performances I've ever seen. What made it even better was the fact that I had consumed two Long Island Iced Teas immediately before the show, and throughout the show I enjoyed a couple pints of beer. My inhibitions were lowered, I talked and joked with those around me, I sang along, danced my ass off, and really just had a great time. At the end of the show I felt very accomplished for having such a good time and for having used that which was available at the time to ensure that the best time was indeed had. In short, I felt very wise, though still relatively young.

Crazy Coincidence

2007-01-26T08:16:00.000-08:00

This has existed as a draft for a few months. I thought I might add something to it, but no, I think its time to release it to the public. Here you go:

Wednesday morning, I was eating toast and reading the newspaper when I became a tad agitated by a moronic letter to the editor entitled "Liberals Lie". The author of the little gem complained that liberals were doing everything in their power to silence opposition in Washington. He mentioned a bill liberals were trying to pass and the fight against teaching design in public schools. The final sentence of the letter went something like "Support your local conservatives!"
I think that what got my goat was the simple fact that this person was a proud conservative making the same tired conservative points and accusations. I know that conservatives do exist--its just hard for me to understand why. How could a person believe that what two consenting adults do in their own home determines whether they'll go to heaven or rot in hell? How could a person base their morality upon something as twisted & strange as the Bible. How could a person see everything so black and white, good or evil? And how could a person feel so strongly about his weakly-held religious beliefs that he'd send a letter to the editor of the Idaho Statesman in order to rant in our ears?
So this is what I did. I wrote a letter to the editor myself. I wrote something like, "As a liberal who would absolutely love it if the U.N. overthrew the U.S. government and took away all of our guns, I must admit that I've been impressed by powerful conservative arguments like the one offered by (dude who wrote "liberals lie"), and now I'm ready to make a concession. Teach religion in schools. I'm fine with that. Quote scripture even. Like "(a passage from the bible which describes how a gang of Sodomites demanded of a man the release of two angels which were visiting that man. The mob intended to rape the angels. The host of the angels begged the mob to spare them. He was able to convince them to leave the angels alone by offering up his daughter and concubine. The men gang raped the two women instead, and left them for dead. The next day, the father took his daughter's body and cut it up into twelve pieces, and sent them to the different tribes of Israel.)" Let our children learn that the God of the Bible commanded child murder (only a test) and genocide (see Numbers). Of course, let the scriptures speak for themselves, and allow our children to decide for themselves."

I submitted the letter Wednesday morning. After work, my roommate Eric, who is a camera operator/editor with Channel 7, told me that he just came back from Nampa, where a double homicide had occurred. All Eric knew at the time was that it was supposed to be a particularly gory scene. Since Wednesday, details surrounding the murders have been slow to emerge. In today's paper, its was revealed that the two persons killed had been "tortured", and by "tortured" I mean struck repeatedly with an axe. Apparently, the murder suspect, who was found wandering the neighborhood naked that Wednesday afternoon, smeared blood all over the house. Obviously, the murderer was completely out of his mind. But the crazy coincidence is that the same day I wrote a letter to the editor in which I quote a scripture involving rape, murder, and the dismemberment of bodies (to make the point that the Bible is screwed up), a guy tortured and chopped up two people. What's more, according to the Statesman, since being caught, the suspect has been ranting continously about the Bible, religion, God, and Jesus Christ. An emergency room doctor who must have treated the suspect said that "He took it like a metaphor literally and that he was following his faith." The affidavit reported that the suspect claimed that he felt bad, and that he tried to lay his hands upon the victims to try and heal them, but he didn't have the "authority".
It would be wrong, of course, to say that religion was responsible for the murders. But then again, I think it would be wrong to say that it had nothing at all to do with them. How much responsibility religion holds for the violent actions of individuals (murderers, terrorists, presidents, etc) is yet to be drawn out. I think its a correlation that shouldn't be ignored in any case.

New blog on Disbelief

2007-01-12T13:14:00.000-08:00

Its the biggest, baddest, blog of all time! No, really, its the longest blog I've published. Its something that's taken months of on and off again work. For those who dare, its certainly not going to be the easiest read in the world. Its a critical analysis/logical deconstruction of a book called "Scientific Faith". If you're a cherished member of my family who happens to be Christian, and you'd rather not confront a load of anti-religious thinking at the moment, feel free to avoid the blog. For everyone else, enjoy! Kidding. I wrote the blog for myself, of course. Its just the first significant thing I've done as part of my larger life long passion/hobby/project. To see, click the "disbelief" link down there on the right.

2007-01-05T13:30:00.000-08:00

"Don't put off till tomorrow what you can do today", "Ambition feels good", "I am my own house elf". These are but a few of the daily affirmations and wise sayings that have stuck with me over the past few weeks. The last time I nose dived into a funk, I very quickly came to my senses and pulled back on the stick-metaphorically speaking, of course!. Cheesy and ridiculous sayings kept popping into my mind as my body became a weapon against all disorder and waste in the apartment. Grand ideas like "If I had an organizer for my desk, I'd never have to search for my keys & wallet again!" burst forth, followed immediately by the formulation of plans like "Buy an organizer". These plans were urgent, and required immediate action. Some things I did I had already resolved to do months before but had neglected, like working out and cleaning the apartment for 20 minutes before reading the paper over breakfast each morning. Other things involved a large amount of money and some long term planning. All of these goals, from the smallest to the largest, rode on the back of the immense angst and ambition that suddenly burst forth out of the clouds and into the bright blue sky of a summer.... You get the picture.

Right. I must say that writing is probably one of those things that gets easier the more one does it, and harder the more time one allows to pass between writing projects. Sheesh!

So, this angst. I believe what helped it set it alight was an old and lasting disdain I felt for inaction. As a young lad, I half expected to see a relative do something of note, or to achieve financial success of some kind. Instead, what became apparent was the fact that large families, religious convictions, and a simple lack of initiative were not particularly conducive to the birth and realization of amazing accomplishments. Now that I look back on it, its obvious that my mom or my uncle had their hands full taking care of me, my brothers and sisters, and my cousins. Not having even the smallest silver spoon, having to contend with divorce, and being single would have made raising children an act to simply survive. At any rate, my siblings and I were very aware of the fact that we didn't have a lot of money, that our relatives didn't have a lot of money, and that nobody in the whole clan lived a comfortable, fun life. While I looked up to everyone in my family for one reason or another, I never observed anyone doing or accomplishing anything that I'd consider cool. Among my siblings, there were more than a few of us who thought that there might exist a Travis, or a Satchel, curse. It was a do-nothing curse. I resolved then as a child that I would not be a do-nothing. A few weeks ago, I felt too much like one, and it really pissed me off.

When I was 12, my mom met a man named Bill. They later married. After a split and remarriage, the couple moved me, my sister Erin, and brother Seth into a deluxe double wide trailer in a rural area south of Parma, Idaho. Bill owned the property, which included a barn and alfalfa fields, as well as a tractor, two dirt bikes, and some junker cars. Bill was a charismatic man who dreamed big. He wanted all of us to help him transform that dusty land into some sort of paradise with orchards that grew peaches and apples. He wanted to remodel the bunkhouse and build a home. He wanted to have animals in the barn. In the end, we had none of these things, thanks in large part to the fact that Bill was much more of a dreamer than he was a doer. After a couple of years on that windswept hill overlooking the Owyhees, during which time a few trees were planted and a window was placed in the bunk house, Mom divorced Bill and moved Seth, Erin, and I into a Homedale cottage.

Several years later, Mom met and married James who, like Bill, was a charismatic dreamer. Understandably, my mom was again caught up in thoughts of an ideal life in a beautiful rural part of Idaho-this time in a single wide trailor in the Emmett Valley. Allegedly, James's dreams involved more than finding financial success with his computer hobbies while Mom raised his six boys. He told my mother that he had a dreampt of the second coming of Christ during which time volcanic eruptions would destroy much of the area but leave his home untouched.
After moving in with James, his six boys, my Mom, and my sister Erin; I decided that it was the perfect time take up my Dad's offer to move in with him at his home in Independence, Kansas.

The anger I felt in response to my recent stagnation was surely fueled in part by experiences I had with Bill and James. Still, my anger wasn't directed at anyone in particular, including myself. Instead, I imagine inaction as something tangible-a barrier to pass or an opponent to conquer...

2006-12-17T20:56:00.000-08:00

Tonight, Sunday, December 17, 2006, was the (by the way, I like commas) George's Cycles Christmas Party At Happy Fish-A Sushi Joint (Can I Stop Capitolizing Now? ok.). Yeeah, so, that was good times. The sushi was made extra small, but it tasted, er, extra tasty. Fern and I indulged in a couple roles worth each. We arrived just a little late (there is no attempt to put this in logical order, by the way), and had some difficulty finding a seat amongst the 30-40 Georges employess crammed into the small restaurant. We did manage to pull up a couple of chairs next to ol' Dean Montgomery (our 70 year old ex-customer/janitor) and his wife, as well as John Hawk, the huntin' manager of the Meridian store. We all know each other well, so all was fine as we engaged in friendly banter and waited for the sushi to show up. Fern took advantage of the less than exciting time by working on a Christmas knitting project for lil' ol' me. Loads of sushi came in huge platters and we all descended upon it like vultures. After sushi we played a cash give-away game Sandy came up with. Each George's employee stuck his or her hand in a bag and withdrew an envelope that contained a bill of some sort. We could choose to either keep the envelope we grabbed or trade it for one of the others that we didn't grab. It was a silly game, but one that netted me $100. I only got $1 on the first round, but hit the jackpot on the second. There was only one $100 bill in the batch of 60 or so envelopes. Thanks to Fern's hot hands and good luck (she grabbed it from the bag and decided to keep it), my Christmas is much merrier. Besides these fun times, I enjoyed chatting and joking with the likes of Caleb, Patrich, Brian, Jason, Sandy, and others. I also enjoyed watching a lil bit of the classic cycling movies they were showing on the flat screen-Quicksilver and Rad.

Yesterday, Saturday, December 16, 2006, Fern and I went snowboarding together for the 3rd time this year. As a reminder, I'll note that the first time we went this year, it took a few runs before I got my groove back from last year and started feeling ok. I never felt great on the cat track. The snow was fine. The second time, a week ago, the snow sucked, and both of us had a pretty bad time falling over and over again. Yesterday, I wasn't sure about the snow at first, but quickly came to realize that it was great. I was able to progress more than I've ever progressed in a single day before. By the last run of the day, I was cruising down moutain at a descent rate of speed with a big smile on my face. Fern and I both had a lot of fun in the four or so hours we were up there, despite Fern falling and hurting her tushi 2-3 times. We even did some exploring, going off "trail" three times along the same path through semi challenging terrain and deep snow.

After going our seperate ways, cleaning up, and resting a bit, we met up downtown and did a little Christmas shopping. Then we returned to the Flying M and procurred some refreshments and did creative things. Next, we scurried off to the dollar theatre and watched the computer animated flick "Flushed Away". The movie was not devoid of entertainment value, but it was one of the worst movies of the sort I've ever seen-not of the quality of "Open Season" or "Monster House" at least.

Friday, (correct me if I'm wrong) I met Fern at her place, then had dinner at Red Robin...what else...hmm, I'm not sure...

n e way, night

2006-12-08T09:33:00.000-08:00

Fun was had last night at the VAC. Fern and I arrived to partake around 8ish, sometime after the establishment's prior event had ended and the crowd had thinned out. The key word that drew us to the Collective that night was "fondu". Other reasons for showing up included extremely quality art of the alternative and "hip" variety and VAC in particular. B is one of those special people who can juggle the busiest of schedules while retaining particularly jovial and attentive social relations with everyone she comes in contact with.

Shortly after walking in the door and procurring two glasses (plastics) of generic but drinkable merlot, Fern and I were accosted by B. I mean, we engaged in very friendly conversation. During that time, it was revealed that I am "up to" "having fun" and "art". Its always a little tough talking about what one is "up to" when one is focused on seizing the day, connecting neurons, and reaching new emotional heights. Also, its somewhat challenging to slip one's long term goals of stripping religion of its monopoly on morality and contributing to the science of happiness into any conversation, let alone a Thursday night art party conversation. Alas, I managed to hold my tongue and help steer the conversation towards the subject of absurdly expensive jeans that are worth every penny because they hug in just the right ways. I couldn't help notice that once B learned that I was wearing $150 Levis, she bent over and placed her face not far from my arse, I guess in order to find some measure of my jean's fit and quality. Once or twice her hand seemed to come dangerously close to that area, supposedly in an effort to determine the texture of the $150 Levis. I think you can conclude from her behavior last night that B is a fan of expensive jeans, is a fun-loving sort of person, and can enjoy quality adult beverages.

With a second glass of wine in hand paid for by B, we made a smooth transition from one threesome to another. For some time, Fern and I mostly listened to a fellow by the name of Gary who is an aquaintence of mine through my job at Georges Cycles. Gary is a pal of my boss Mike, and a pal to the Boise cycling community in general. Thanks to a decade of racing in New York, Gary had the experience and passion to throw together a professional race team from some local and foreign riders as well as organize a few races over the last five years. Apparantly, that part of his life is mostly behind him, as he's excelling in some other interests. He is now the president of his class at ZaZaZoom beauty school in Nampa, Idaho. For what seemed like over a half an hour, Fern and I listened as Gary explained what led up to his past and current successes (life) and the reasons for choosing the paths he followed (passion). Though Gary could really talk, our conversation was all the more entertaining thanks to our shared passion for cycling, our shared knowledge of the subject, and Gary's face. I tell you, his face was so interesting to look at. He's got these intense blue eyes and black hair that's curly and gelled. The prominence of each feature (nose, chin, lips, mouth, etc) really captures every disntinctive characteristic of his Roman/Greek ancestors. As impressive as all this was, his eyebrows were definately the star of the show. They were jet-black and sharp, rising up on the outside, Spok-like, but quickly dissappearing above his upper eyelid in the same manner women's do when they pluck their eyebrows. For a long time I tried to determine whether or not Gary's were indeed plucked. Of course, there's nothing at all wrong with that. In fact, while I did not personally want to shag him, a part of me admired Gary's look, if only for its definite beauty and distinctiveness.

The rest of our stay at the VAC consisted of idol chit-chat and joking with some of B's friends (lady-with-long-hair and spunky girl from plays). I also spent some time looking closely at the excellent artwork displayed. Fern and I had some quality moments guzzling our wine in a more private manner.

Earlier in the night, before our VAC fun, we walked down to Bodo for some First Thursday shop hopping. We were awed by a large tree at the center of Bodo that had all its large branches completely wrapped in white Christmas lights. At Shoes, I tried on a couple pair of normal fitting AG Jeans. At the eyeglass shop next door, I found a pair of glasses I really liked. Our search for free goodies (an important part of First Thursdays) brought us to a new shoe place on 8th street. As soon as Fern turned to me and told me not to make fun of the ugly shoes they had, she ran to the corner of the store that displayed the ugliest, funky shoes and asked to try them on. The shoes were called MBT (something-"barefoot technology") and their distinguishing feature was the convex, rounded shape of their outsoles. To put it bluntly, they looked like retard shoes. So, Fern had to try them on, and then she had to act as though she was somewhat serious about the shoes. Therefore, she spent some time listening to the salesperson passionately tell the story of barefoot technology, and tell her all the benefits they offered the wearer (like walking on a pilates ball). I too was genuinly curious about the shoes. It turned out that they were quite comfortable and fun to walk on. I was totally willing to pay, say, $20 for a pair, but it turns out the shoes cost $240. $240 for some retard shoes! Pshaw!

Ok-It's my second day off in my three-day weekend. I took Thursday off because I've got a couple more vacation days to burn before the end of the year. Today I'll try to finish a drawing that I made a lot of progress on yesterday. Yes, it involves nudity. Tomorrow, Fern and I are going snowboarding; that is, if all the snow doesn't melt or pack down today.

More later. I meant to make a list of things I've done in life that made real contributions to my happiness, and discuss those things.

2006-12-04T20:04:00.000-08:00

I really inspire myself sometimes! A couple of days ago, I was lamenting the change in season, feeling shut out of one of my favorite places-the outdoors-and wondering what in the world a boy like me could do to entertain himself. So I referred back to my blog entrees from a year ago in search of ideas for fun and exciting activities. What I found and what I read were a "Titillating Essay" and a blog in which I shared my astonishment over what individuals and society are capable of. Neither entry described what it was I was up to that late November, 2005. Rather, both were mini-essays based upon some thinking on the "science of happiness", the impetus for thoughts, and the astonishment of human behavior-all really interesting topics, I felt. Reading those blog entrees reminded me that writing can be very fun and very rewarding. I felt better because I re-realized that there's something else I enjoy doing that doesn't require sunlight and 60 degree+ temps. Yeah, its definately more of a challenge keeping oneself entertained in the winter, but there's plenty I look forward to doing these days-and writing more is certainly high on the list.

So what have I been up to these days? What's been on my mind?
For the record, after the Austin trip, I was somewhat sick and rather miserable for a couple of weeks. This coincided with a bout of mild depression, which wasn't unusual considering my ill health and the time of year. Oddly enough, I tweaked a muscle in my neck just as my sore throat and fatigue started to abate. For another week, I existed in a state of relative physical discomfort. All in all, things could have been better in November.

Since Austin, I've let a lot of good times pass by without writing about them here. I feel really bad about that. Like a week ago, Fern and I met up with Elizabeth, Edvin, and Laura at the Balcony for some chatting and dancing. For the few songs that were worth dancing to, I felt very much in the groove, so to speak. It was fun. Saturday, Fern and I went snowboarding for the first time this winter. We stayed at Bogus for around four hours; during which time I sucked and was in a bad mood, but quickly found (yes) a groove and thoroughly enjoyed myself until the end. I also discovered the joy of synchronized snowboarding that afternoon.

Fern and I have declared November and December (possibly January on) extra thrifty months for us so that we might succeed in paying down large chunks of credit card balances and begin saving for our next vacation (Europe/Spain anyone?). I'm due to pay off one credit card mid month-yeehaw! As such, we have taken in several dollar movies in the last month or so.

I'd love to keep writing, but I've got a few loads of laundry to get to, and sleep has been a priority lately (I dunno, that time of year)... Speaking of priorities, I've concluded that now is the time to sort through my priorities again and refocus my efforts to act-to accomplish a thing or two. Quickly then:

Priority numero uno hasn't changed for a long time. It is-
1) Enjoy myself-do what makes me happy. What little wisdom I've garnered from previous generations by and large can be summed up in this simple creed: Enjoy life, because it doesn't last forever, and as far as we know we only have one. You know, carpe diem. The only "success" that matters is the kind that brings greater happiness, love, contentment, pleasure, and enjoyment to me and those I care about. That's why I can be rather indecisive about what I devote my time to. How much happier would I be if I became a great artist, performer, or philosopher? I don't doubt I could excel in these areas if I chose to spend all of my time honing the necessary skills, and I don't doubt that I could be much happier doing so; however, being certain of the outcome in all cases is nearly impossible. And I can have a bad attitude when I think of our culture's tendency to rely on outward success for momentary highs and self esteem. This tendency is more likely to be the cause of constant dissapointment or low self-esteem, if the habit is allowed to flourish. At anyrate, I intend on being proactive in these areas, but only if my enjoyment is not seriously compromised.

Priority #2 is my health--kinda need to get out of bed in the morning and not worry about impending doom in order to enjoy myself.

Priority #3 are my intellectual hobbies: Trying to strip religion of its monopoly on morality-to get to the heart of ideological division and conflict--to be a peace maker of sorts--so sort out what it means to be human--to advance the science of happiness...

Priority #4: write music--I need to tap into my own emotion and put out, instead of always receiving from outside sources. I want to grow emotionally, and I think writing music is probably a great way to do so. And I'd love to contribute something to the popular music world that's not formulaic in any way--that combines the emotion/sincerity of pop/indie music, with the structure and complexity of classical music(oh wait, isn't that a fomula!).

Priority #5: produce visual art--at the moment, I'm most interested in making erotic images that are extraordinarily tasteful and beautiful. It's a major challenge I know, but one I look forward to tackling. I'd love to see the day when paintings in offices or homes frequently featured images of penises, vaginas, and explicit sex. Seriously! The human body is beautiful. The sooner that is recognized and drilled into our heads, the sooner our society will get over so many of its sexual set-backs and perversions.

2006-11-28T07:33:00.000-08:00

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.

2006-11-12T19:41:00.000-08:00

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.

2006-11-09T09:36:00.000-08:00

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

2006-11-02T18:19:00.000-08:00

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

2006-11-01T07:32:00.000-08:00

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...

Exploits in Austin, Texas

2006-10-30T18:49:00.000-08:00

Man, I really enjoy a turkey pot pie fresh out of the oven. And an ice-cold can of coke is the perfect chaser. Coldplay's latest album is exactly what I want to hear right now. Something smooth, something cool; but more than anything, something that makes you feel your heart in your chest.

I've settled in my chair, thanks to a broken spring or two. I'm happy now that my apartment is no longer a refuge for flies. The dishes are done, the trash taken out, the laundry in the wash, and various surfaces shine gloriously. There's nothing else I'd rather do than tell you all about Austin, Texas; and the adventures of two wily kids, Jennifer and Josh, during their stay there.

The recording of the vacation is over due. A week and two days have passed since we returned to Boise. We've been back in town long enough to engage in other blog-worthy activities like hiking through the colorful fall foliage of upper Hulls Gulch, consuming fantastic Italian food at Louis', enjoying time at the Flying M parking Garage in Nampa, tasting wine at St. Chappelle and Sawtooth Wineries as part of a road ride near the Snake River, and shaking our collective booties at the Balcony's Halloween party. The "tour de wine country" and Halloween party were the highlights of the weekend for sure. Wine buzzes make any activity better, especially bike rides. Thankfully, traffic was almost non-existent, the sun shone like it was April, and the scenery was simply amazing (despite several layers of Canyon County smog). That night, Fern and I became "Purple Vixen" and "Scary" respectively, and proceeded to "raise the roof" and "burn down the house" on the Balcony's dance floor. We had a great time. Given the scene and company, I don't think it was possible not to have too much fun.

Speaking of fun, did you hear that Jennifer and I spent a week in Austin, Texas? We totally did! The first awesome thing you've got to know is that Fern kept the destination a secret for months before telling me in the airport on our way to the gate. Kudos to her for being such a great secret keeper! I don't know who doesn't like surprises, so if you've never done anything like this for someone else, I'd highly recommend it. Handing over all decision making authority to your significant other allows you to feel what its like to escape yourself, so to speak. We're so much into individual autonomy in western culture that some of us rarely get to experience the joy of giving up control.

The decision to go to Austin doesn't need to be explained. Its a hip, liberal town in the heart of Texas. I think most people know that. Its the live music capital of the world. If your favorite band hasn't played Austin City Limits, your favorite band probably sucks. Lance Armstrong lives there, its warm, its bigger than Boise, yada yada yada. What is most significant about Austin is that before two and a half weeks ago, both Fern and I had never been there. I simply love the feeling of getting "lost" in new places. Feeling far from home is one of the best sensations I know. I suppose I'm not the only one who thinks so.

The flight to Austin was bearable. I actually paid $5 to watch TV on the plane. VH1 was available, and they were playing videos from the 90s, which got me feeling all sentimental, so I paid the big bucks to have the privilege of watching artists like Tori Amos and the Counting Crows and Depeche Mode sing my favorite songs; but as soon as I settled into my seat, VH1 switched programming to something lame like a music game show, and that really sucked. We had a layover in Denver for an hour. There, we enjoyed Quizno's sandwhiches and some luke-warm brocoli-cheese soup.

Walking off the plane in Austin reminded me of walking off the plane in Honolulu. It felt like walking into a tropical rainforest the humidity was so high. I loved it. After finding out that nobody seemed to know anything about their own inexpensive mass tranportation system, we managed to hop a bus into town. The bus delivered us to the State Capitol, several blocks from the Super 8 motel in which we were booked for a week. The walk to the hotel was a slippery one, as the sky was full of low, feathery rain clouds which had recently let off some moisture. We made our way past the capitol building. It didn't impress us much, having read earlier that the capitol was one of the biggest and best in the country (like everything in Texas), but in person finding nothing about the building that set it above Idaho's own Statehouse. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful buidling of pinkish granite, and the grounds were full of big, black, twisted oak trees. Apparantly Texans take homeland security seriously. Police cars were parked at every gated entrance to the capitol.

Our room was very clean and came equipped with a mini-fridge, microwave, and TV. The king-sized bed was large enough to allow two finicky sleepers several good nights sleep. After stocking up on supplies at a drug store conveniently located across the street, and after zoning out on the bed for several minutes to rest our travel weary bones, we walked outside, ready to embrace the city of Austin.

Our wandering took us down Congress Avenue from the Capitol, past the city's most impressive sky scrapers, into the warehouse district where we decided to take a break at a Halycon Coffee/Alcohol house. There I had the first of several mediocre to poor mocha's I'd experience on the trip. Keep in mind, a mocha has to be very poor for me to NOT enjoy it; so all in all, my mocha experiences were good, despite the fact that they didn't match those of Boise.

After Halycon's, we walked down 6th street and marveled at the seemingly endless strip of clubs. At one point, what I saw in the window of a club stopped me in my tracks. Inside was nearly a dozen table hockey tables. Of course, we took advantage of their drink special and engaged in some furious competition. It was a lot of fun. This left me satisfied except for a rumbly in my tumbly telling me it was time for supper.

Soon after we hit the streets again, we approached an establishment that displayed a sign listing upcoming shows. My excitement quickly grew as I realized that the bands listed were indeed playing this small venue in the next few days. Built to Spill, Ani DiFranco, and Dwight Yokum were all slated to rock the house. I could care less about Dwight Yokum, but I was amazed that such big names, including two of my favorite artists, were going to be there. Upon entering the establishment, I quickly arranged the purchase of two tickets for Built to Spill on our last night in Austin, Friday night.

So, it was an amazing night for several reasons. I found out that a favorite band of Fern and I's was going to play less than a mile from where we were staying. Also, that band, Built to Spill, is from Boise.! And finally, the venue was a restaurant named Stubbs, which is the birth place and source of an excellent BBQ sauce that my friends and I have glorified (jockingly) for years. It was like visiting Graceland! I took several pictures of posters of Stubbs before sitting down to eat a juicy chicken sandwhich smothered in the sauce.

The evening ended rather badly for Fern. She tripped and fell down some steps at the restaurant while a private party was going on downstairs. While telling me about this trauma, she swung her head back and hit the wall. Finally she stubbed her toe (again) on the step leading up to our hotel room. We were both glad to get horizontal on our beds. Gravity would play no more dirtly tricks on us that day.

On Monday morning we woke up, had a bowl of cereal, and headed out in the rain with our umbrellas in search of a bus that would deliver us to a coffee shop somewhere north of the University of Texas. After waiting in the rain for some time, we finally caught a free ride on a "dillo". It took us about 5 blocks further north. From there, we began walking on Guadalupe, or the "strip" as UT students call it. We quickly spied a bike shop. Inside, we inquired about renting bikes for the week. The helpful salesperson offered us a great deal on an older, cheaper, Giant mountain bike and a bran-new Specialized with a front shock. We said we'd think it over (we wanted to see if we could get a better deal somewhere else first-and we were desperate for coffee).

Up Guadalupe we walked, passing all kinds of promising-looking clothing stores. We missed seeing one coffee house and another no longer existed. Finally, after several blocks of walking, we came to the Spider House.

Ah, the Spider House-our home away from home. It was so eclectic and funky and expansive and, yes, weird (people say Austin is "weird"). Most importantly, it was a hip, comfortable hangout, with good coffee and good food.

More to come...

2006-10-07T22:49:00.000-07:00

Hey you! There's a plethora of new entrees on "The Reconstruction of Disbelief". Read, understand, and comment. Please! Click on the "Disbelief" link...

2006-10-05T07:39:00.000-07:00

I deeply apologize to the two or three people who check my blog on a regular basis. For the last few weeks you've read the same cheezy opening line, "Hi great big world!", over and over and over again, in the hope that maybe this day, or the next day, you'll finally be rewarded with exciting new material. I can only imagine how you feel upon reading that line for the gazillionth time. I am so, so sorry. If my present intention rises above a mere hope and become deliberate action, you will be delighted almost every morning by Josh's Deep Thoughts and Affirmations. Read on...

You see, I've been pretty successful sticking to my morning routine-the routine that's going to make me a Super Josh! I'll be bigger, stronger, longer, faster, smarter, and WAY more concerned about the children thanks to my morning routine. At the start of each weekday, I work out for 20 minutes; make and enjoy a high-protein breakfast of eggs, toast, and milk; read the paper; and clean my apartment for 20 minutes. In 3+ weeks I've failed to do this only twice.

The time is right to review what it is I'm doing in order to see if it is the best use of my mornings. By "the best" I mean the activitiy that most effectively stimulates my mind, body, or psyche (ego); as well as most effectively decreases stress in my day to day life.

Working out:
I'm definately seeing some filling in or plumping up of my chest, shoulders, and arms, but I'm a little dissapointed in the rate in which its happening. Its not that I expect much more when I'm working out only 20 minutes a day, but still, I think I've put weight on faster in the past. Yes, I can still incorporate a mass-building, healthy protein shake and an even healthier diet into my routine, and I plan on doing so soon.

Breakfast:
The increase in the quality of my life that I get from eating a substantial breakfast and not being in a hurry while doing so is huge. I have been addicted to toast ever since Fern and I's hostile experience in San Fransisco. That's a good thing given that bread is cheap and healthy, especially if its whole grain, whole oat, or the like. The only problem I have is trying to eat breakfast and read the newspaper at the same time. When I had a TV instead of a newspaper subscription, I had no problem shuffling food in my mouth while being informed and entertained. Now its a little more tricky. However, I'm not really complaining.

Reading the Newspaper:
Here's where I'm having a few doubts. In just a week or two, I've read stories about: 1) A Nampa woman who was stabbed by her husband and crammed into the trunk of his car where she was able to call police on her cell phone and tell them her general location before dying. 2) A man who barricaded himself in an Amish school with the intention of raping little girls for hours, but was confronted by police and ended up shooting the girls execution-style instead. 3) Another derrainged man shot a school girl in the head after sexually assaulting her. 4) A Florida Representative sent lewd text messages to young aides. 5) A local school teacher, a hero to many, was pinned in his car after being hit by a pickup. His car caught on fire and he died. 6) 8 U.S. soldiers were killed in one day in Iraq. 9) 3 motorcyclists in less than a month died in crashes around Boise.
And the list of tragedy and negativity goes on and on. Do I really need to spend a big chunk of my time reading about stuff like this? How is it making me happier? The short answers are "no" and "its not". Its also costing me money. So, I'm thinking of cancelling my subscription to the paper and using the time I'd normally spend reading it every morning to write a short blog. I'm excited about this. Because I'm running short on time, lets move on....

Cleaning the Apartment:
Its hard to believe, but 20 minutes cleaning a day does not ensure a pristine living environment. Dishes pile up every day, my desk becomes messy easily, and I've yet to engage in any real deep cleaning. I have little choice but to up the time to 30 minutes a day. My goal is not to come home to a "neat" apartment after work, but to enter an immaculate setting. I'm committed to making that happen. Its good for my soul.

So, the idea is to, each morning, take care of the very basic things I need to be happy, healthy, and confident so that when I go to work, my stress level is low, and when I get off work, my time is completely free. After work, since anxieties about how I should work out or clean up or write or whathave you are not present, I'll enjoy myself much more and will be free to do whatever I feel like doing.

2006-09-18T19:49:00.000-07:00

Hi great big world! I'm in a fine mood this evening. Thirty minutes ago I returned home after a two hour mountain bike ride on the best trails in Boise, with the most perfect weather and a stranger to accompany me. Kent, the stranger, was a fellow of around 50 years of age who was in Boise for a day or two to interview for a job. He and his wife are seriously considering moving from their home in western Kansas to Boise. Kent was the CEO of some high-tech company but resigned because, well, western Kansas sucks and he wanted to get out. At any rate, his wife informed me today at the shop that he wanted to go for a ride but was unfamiliar with the trail system here. Observing that it was a beautiful day out, I opted to seize it and invited Kent to join me after work for a ride.

But do we really care about Kent and his life? Hell no! Let's move on to a more titilating subject: Me.

I wanted to talk about that which I've alluded to in prior posts. You know, the thing about how I've discovered and implemented the secret to happiness? Uh huh, well, its simple really.

I have committed to doing what I tell myself to do. I am now a slave to myself. If on more than one occasion I tell myself that I would really like to have bigger "guns" or "pistons", then I have no other choice but to do a lot of curls on a regular basis. If I tell myself that I want to know more about current events, then I get a subscription to the newspaper and I reserve the time to read every morning. If I tell myself I'd love to have a clean apartment to come home to after work, or to spend quality time in with my girlfriend, then I allocate a certain amount of time for cleaning up every day.

Specifically, these are some of the things I've committed to doing:

1) Sleep no more than 8.5 hours a night
2) Work out 20 minutes every weekday morning
3) Clean my apartment for 20 minutes every weekday morning
4) Eat a healthy breakfast rich in protein every weekday morning (eggs/egg whites, toast n' jam or peanut butter, milk, etc)
5) Waste no time watching tv (by giving my tv away).

There are a few other guidelines that I'll try to follow, but are not as strict as 1-5.
For example:

5) I need not ride my bike more than 4 times a week. 3 rides is probably ideal. The reason for this is that I am trying to get a feeling for what it might take for me to finally work on musical and artistic projects. Given the few hours I scrap together every week for drawing, writing, or tinkering around on my piano, I'll be 70 years old before I'm producing art of the quality I want to produce. I'm tired of talking about doing it. Moreover, I almost get angry at myself whenever I talk about it since the actual doing of it is so overdue.

6) Fern and I will take 2 days off a week from our usual fun, carefree activities together. This serves more than one purpose. Most importantly, it allows me a solid block of time to work on art or music by myself. Also, I believe very strongly in the notions that a quality relationship requires 1) two people who are individuals doing things every now and then as individuals in order to bolster one's sense of individual pride and identity, and 2) time apart, or quality absences, so that those in the relationship can feel that wonderful feeling of missing a person, which only serves to make the time you have together much more enjoyable. A week and a half ago Fern had some social engagements which (along with me not feeling great) caused us to not see each other for 3 days straight. When we finally got together we had an amazing weekend, having a lot of fun for 3 days in a row. I'd rather not go so long without spending time with her, but I think this example demonstrates the point I'm trying to make.

7) I will wear my helmet every time I ride my bike.

8) Many more rules and regulations to come...

2006-09-15T10:39:00.000-07:00

New food for thought on "Disbelief"

2006-09-12T21:56:00.000-07:00

Tonight I recieved a very welcome endorphin boost upon riding my cross bike fast up and down steep terrain, over rough and smooth singletrack. Its always a nice surprise when one feels more fit than one expects to feel, as I did this evening. I danced on the pedals ascending, and dropped like a rock descending. The ride to the top of Sidewinder, down Redsands, and over Your Mom/Freeway/Reserve took no more than 50 minutes.

Approaching home, at the corner of Straughan and Warm Springs Ave, I ran into an ex-coworker of mine, Antonio Gonzalez. We chatted and he invited me to coffee along with another ex-coworker of mine, Keith. As I expected, the Java in Hyde Park was closed, so we met at Lucky 13 instead. There we talked about all manner of things including cute dogs, sex, the physics involved in wheel design, a guy named John, and my girlfriend's profession, among other topics. I drank a beer, which is an especially enjoyable thing to drink after an endorphin-fest.

Only a little over a week ago I was mightly depressed. Having experienced depression off and on again throughout most of my life, I knew that the current depression would eventually turn off, as it did last Monday. For me, as I suspect for a lot of people, ups and downs are a fact of life. As serious and reasonable as the things which I think are causing the downs might be at the time, I know that the actual feelings are not very well justified, and that they most certainly arise from a pseudo-natural biochemical imbalance, and that its only a matter of time until I'm feeling much better. And I've got to admit that I'm proud of the fact that I usually come out of a depression feeling better than I did before entering it. Its almost like a soul cleansing in some weird way. A great deal of productivity often happens as a reaction against depression. My hope is that the productivity or changes I make will ultimately lessen the intensity and frequency of future mini-depressions.

I'm very excited about the most recent changes I've made. They don't simply constitute a reaction against a recent low, but represent a proactive step as a direct result of thinking seriously about the broad subject of happiness for some time now. Since I'm already sounding like the author of a corny self-help book, I'll go ahead and say that it feels as though I've made a "breakthrough" of some sort, and to hear more about it, you'll have to visit my blog again in the near future. Goodnight.

2006-09-12T08:21:00.000-07:00

I've yet to blog about a big adjustment I've recently made to my daily routine. Rather, I've yet to blog about how I've adopted something that qualifies as a routine. While I'm typing presently, I'm still pressed for time, so I'll simply copy what I managed to write in my thought journal yesterday at the M. Here you have it:

What I'm accomplishing with my new arrangement:
1. Saving 1.2 to 12.5 hours a week
2. Throughout my day, not thinking about or worrying about:
a. working out
b. cleaning the house
c. knowing current events
d. eating a quality breakfast
3. Becoming healthier, stronger, and more attractive
4. Never being in a hurry in the morning
5. Gaining more time to be creative
6. Being mentally sharper
7. Increasing the quality of my free time exponentially

I'll explain exactly what I've done to achieve all of this when I can find the time. For now, I'm off to work early to prepare for the day--to make the work day more enjoyable... Bravo Self Improvement!

2006-08-22T21:16:00.000-07:00

You can never have enough granola, that's for damned sure. Sadly, I just poured the last of my stash into my bowl and doused it with milk. I'll enjoy it, even if its only about 1/4 cup. I should've bought more. Who would've thought granola from Winco's bulk food section was so scrumptious?

Today was cause for celebration. After months of studying, Fern took the GRE and scored well enough to get into the school of her choice-the local school with an MPH program (master of public health), ISU. We enjoyed a celebratory drink at the Neurolux not more than a half hour ago. There, a friend of Fern's, a member of her old "posse", Sam, appeared out of nowhere, and spent time chatting with the little ninja.

Before the winding down at the Neurolux, the two of us got rowdy with the poof football and smashmitten in Anne Morrison Park. This bit of excitement followed an excursion to BSU's Sub, where we walked through the bookstore and put together two small puzzles I bought at Rite Aid earlier in the day. Fern completed her's first, as I struggled with my final remaining piece for two whole minutes.

My day off was spent straightening the apartment, doing laundry, zoning out in front of the TV from time to time, reading at Java, and transcribing thoughts from my notebook to my blog, Reconstruction of Disbelief.

Yesterday after cleaning up, I met Fern at Zuttos for some very fine sushi and conversation. Later, in celebration of our 19th monthiversary, we topped off the evening with some fine star gazing at her apartment.

New posts on Disbelief blog

2006-08-04T15:25:00.000-07:00

2006-08-01T11:14:00.000-07:00

From now on, the last 10 days will be known as The Post Pojos, Pre Epic Mountain Bike Ride Period. Or not. I s'pose I'll have to work a tad harder if I intend to give you, dear reader, a picture of the-last-10-days-of-josh's-life. Until that glorious day when I can sit down at my computer, plug myself into my Dell's harddrive, and have my memory directly translated and transferred onto a blogger page, I'll be forced to stay literate and shit. Oh, life is hard.

When was it? 12 days ago? That was a Thursday I think. No, it was a Friday night when Fern and I went to Pojos on Fairview. That was two posts ago on her blog, if you care to read about it. Having established the time and setting, I'd like to present the WHOWHAT!?! of the evening. The WHOWHAT!?! matters most-it was Fern and I getin all hot and schweaty on the japanese dance game, bump'n and grind'n on the bumper car floor, and demonstrating our complete lack of ball-sport talent at the basketball hoops. It was also discovering that I'm even less photogenic in black and white (photo booth). Plus, we realized that it's a blast to shoot up dinosaurs and evil-doers, but its no fun bouncing off stone walls on your motorcycle. We inhabited the establishment alongside the requisite sticky lil' kids. Unexpectedly, there was a large contingent of sticky, mustache-wearing adults present as well, taking pleasure in their disproportionate masses as they bumped the crap out of little kids in their bumper cars. Yeah, that was Pojos 11 days ago, and it was good times, as they say.

Next, it was Saturday and I had to work goddamit. This marked the beggining of the "Brother and Mother Visit" phase of the Post Pojos period. My brother Seth arrived in town first. Saturday night we made mighty tasty fish tacos at home. I think we went swimming in my pool.

Sunday I worked as scheduled. That was the day my mom showed up. After work, we all (including Jennifer) had dinner at Bardenay. Good food (tuna melt?) and good company (fam n' fern).

Hrm, my memory of the first half of last week is especially fuzzy. I remember that on Tuesday Mom, Seth, and I walked down to the Fish and Game nature center. I was rather shocked to discover that there is an indoor part of the experience, including stuffed and living creatures, as well as parts and pieces of creatures-that-once-were. And I'm pretty into that sort of thing. There was a stuffed elk, mountain lion, buffalo head, wolf, bat, and others. Learning to identify a bat at the Fish and Game Center would prove itself to be a handy skill later on in the week. Upon exiting the building and making our way into a lil' bird watching area we had one of the most serene moments of the Mom and Brother phase of the last 10 days. The temperature was like 10 degrees cooler on the bench among the bamboo shoots where we peered out and watched several kinds of birds feeding side by side; some apparantly fond of the company, while others engaged in a bit of tussling.

Next, we walked through the garden portion of the Nature Center. The pretty plants, as is always the case, were nice to gaze upon. As we made our way down the path we observed a blue heron perched atop a skeleton tree in the middle of the garden. For a while, it scratched itself behind the ear with one long toe. I began to worry that the heron might not be able to judge when it would be prudent to stop scratching the itch. Standing directly beneath the "tree", I quietly hoped that the bird would not take flight and drop a heron-sized bomb on my head.
That didn't happen, thankfully. Believe it or not, we became bored of watching the heron, and moved on. At one point, mom wandered into a patch of blossoming wild flowers. She remarked at how beautiful they were at about the same time she began sniffling and sneazing. Quickly, two and two were put together and she nearly ran from the offending pollen-emitting flowers.

Then we checked out the salmon-run displays which were a little dissapointing due to their lack of salmon. But the water was nice, and there were a couple large salmon in the last pool. One that floated beneath a log looked especially old and tired. I became bored of starring at the inactive fish, so I decided to drop some very small rocks into the pool to see if they'd rile him up. I had a rock in hand perched above the window ready to be dropped when one of the Nature Center's workers emerged from around the corner. I did my best to put my hand down without a) drawing attention to myself, and b) looking like a guilty child. I think I suceeded as the worker said nothing of my behavior.

On Wednesday and Thursday Seth was away spending time with friends. Mom and I hung out. Wednesday, Fern accompanied us to the Flicks where we watched "An Inconvenient Truth" starring The Man himself, Al Gore. Thurday we went to Satchels and had a nice chat.

Friday was the big day. Mom had rented a car and we were going to set off on some kind of adventure. I was troubled, because the destinations I thought off were, to me, far from perfect. Seth and Mom wanted go to the mountains. That's what you do when you visit Idaho; especially if you live in New York City like Seth does.. So I thought we might go to Idaho City and beyond. Idaho city is neat and all, but I wasn't at all excited about the idea, because its nearly ugly, contrary to the beauty we sought. I was also thinking of driving up to Bogus, which is more beautiful and cool temperature-wise but is the farthest thing from exotic and exciting in my opinion, having already been there a million times. Thus, we were going to head to Cascade Resevoir that morning and see what we could see. Aesthetically, the area is one of the best in Idaho. At the last moment I remembered Blue Lake. Jennifer had been wanting to take me there ever since we met. It's her favorite place in Idaho, I think. Over the last year and a half, I've learned enough about the lake-including how to get there-that when the idea popped into my head Friday, I decided it was the only satisfactory place to take my mom and brother.

In the car, on the trip north, the three of us engaged in a lively discussion about happiness and morals and such. Also, Seth entertained us with outtakes from a comedy show that I'm remiss to not remember the name of. It made the drive a little more bearable. Also, throughout the week and along the drive, mom would perk up from time to time when she saw a home or place that made her think about moving to Idaho. Her heart is in Idaho, you could safely say, and I think she's entirely justified for loving it here so much. Just look at the pictures from any of the adventures Fern and I or my family have had here and ask yourself if this isn't a kick-ass place to be.

Yeah, so we stopped in Horseshoe bend and stocked up on supplies. Seth, with new recommendations for a low-fat foods in his possession, went ahead and bought two cheese filled hot dogs for lunch. Hey, its vacation, time to splurge! We drove north on the windy road along the white n' roaring Payette River. Accidently, we passed the turnoff for Blue Lake and entered Cascade. We spied a giant flea market at the side of the road and decided to check it out. There I aquired a large straw hat perfect for keeping the sun off my face, neck, and shoulders during outdoor adventures. Other than the hat, the flea market was filled with silly crap, as flea markets tend to be.

Back on the road, we made it to the Blue Lake turnoff and quickly became awed by the beauty of the area. All the way up the switchbacks and steep gravel road we remarked at how amazing the scenery was. We could see the valley below us throughout most of the drive up the mountain. Finally, we caught a glimpse of Blue Lake and pulled to the side of the road to check it out. The view of the lake below us was quite nice. We walked to the other side of the road where a large snow drift lay slowly melting in the summer sun. Ofcourse, I had to mount the drift and construct a mini-snowman. My hands nearly froze off, which is an unexpected experience in Summer. While screwing around on the snow, my new straw hat got caught by a gust of wind and was launched through the air and down to a spot below the drift. Afraid that at any moment the hat which I had just spent five dollars for might blow even farther away, I threw caution to the wind and thrust myself down the snow, sliding on my flip-flops, faster and more out of control by the moment. By the time I hit the dirt I was going way too fast and nearly tumbled head first into some rocks. I was able to recover and slow down before making my way to the hat and shoving it back down on my head, just like Indiana Jones. The adventure was underway!

We piled back into the car and drove for approximately 1 minute up the road before arriving at a parking lot and trail head. We were all overjoyed to see that an outhouse had been supplied by the Forest Service. Ladies first!, so mom walked into the outhouse. Five seconds later she walked out, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. She kept saying "you won't believe this". It took Seth and I several guesses before she told us that there was a bat in the toilet. Being a lover of wildlife-even wildlife sitting atop a pile of excrement-I just had to check it out. Sure enough, there was a bat crawling amongst the toilet paper and unspeakables. There was no choice in the matter. I had to save the bat from a terrible, terrible fate. I grabbed a stick and tried to fish the little guy out. To my dismay, the bat fell further down the pile of crap and dissapeared from site. I thought it was over. The three of us gave up on the idea of using the outhouse and prepared to hike down the trail to the lake. Before we hit the trail, we checked the toilet again. Low! the bat was back atop the pile, seeming more eager to escape than before. Mom told me to grab a stick with smaller branches, but I had a better idea. I went back to the car and unrolled several swatches of paper towel. I rolled these up like a tube, allowed the bat to grapple on; and pulled the bat from the toilet, out into the open air, where it took flight and fluttered about, free at last, thank god almighty! [before the bat took flight, it raced up the paper towel towards my hand...which was a little worrisome]

Ok, so we hiked down the trail to the lake. We found a good spot on a rock at the shore to set down our stuff. I became committed to go swimming. Thankfully, the water was not as cold as I expected it to be, and after a few torturous minutes, I was able to lower myself into the water completely. Seth managed to do the same-however, his technique involved getting in the lake half way, pretending some kid was drowning, and diving in the rest of the way. We swam around carefully for want of not bashing our knees and feet against the rocks. Then, while mom watched from the rocks, Seth and I discussed ways to swim out to the islands in the middle of the lake. Not being very confident in my swimming ability, I tried to disway Seth from taking the route directly to the middle. But when he did anyway, we discovered that it wasn't that long of a swim, and not that difficult. I became very nervous about attempting the swim myself. I even began to swim out, but chickened out and swam back for shore. Finally, with some coaching from Seth, I very calmly made my way across the expanse to the island. I was rather elated to make it across without becoming too exhausted and without feeling panicked. With my confidence renewed, we swam to the two other, smaller islands. The smallest was probably just 15 feet in diameter. A small evergreen tree grew on it. We swam back to shore after posing for photos.

Back on shore, on the rocks, we thought about changing out of our swim trunks. I walked to a part of the rock that formed a cliff 10 feet or so above the lake. Below the cliff, the water was rather deep. I stared, knowing what must be done. I couldn't leave without jumping from the rocks first. I'd regret not doing it. Seth noticed me staring into the water, walked over, and looked at me. We both understood that, yes, we were going to jump in. After we made sure mom was ready with the camera, we counted down from five and jumped into the lake at the same time. It was great-just like a Coors Light commercial! Or, a double mint gum commercial. More accurately, a gay double mint gum commercial... Ofcourse, we had to do it again, and again, and again, and then one more time, higher up the rock, one at a time.

The hike back to the car was a bit steep, so we stopped to rest and talk a few times. The flora along the path was very beautiful.

We drove to Cascade along the resevoir. We ate at Grandma's Kitchen. The service and food sucked, reconfirming the fact that home cooking is far superior to going out. We drove back to Boise and went to bed.

That was the big day, Friday.

Saturday, the three of us went to the market downtown, met up with Seth's friend Chris, had dinner at Table Rock (soup and salad), browsed around in the consignment furniture store, Renewal, and went to the Art Museum. I bought a framed print at Renewal for $19 (Joan of Arc). Somehow, I managed to carry it while piloting the tandem back home. That night we watched "Major Barbara" at the Shakespeare Theatre. We dined on cheese and fruit on the grass while we watched the George Bernard Shaw play which pit Machavellian and Christian morals against each other.

Sunday I worked goddamit. After work, I cleaned up and met Fern (who had returned to Boise after a weekend camping with her friend Elizabeth) for sushi at Koi. Then I came home and coralled Mom and Seth onto the bikes (tandem and Shaft) and to Camelback park where we threw the poof football around (even mom joined in), and Seth and I threw the frisbee (I need practice). When it became dark, we had a sit at Lucky 13 in Hyde Park. Fern and I drank Corona's while Seth enjoyed a Seven and Seven and Mom had some water. For a while, we actually talked about politics! On the way back, Mom had us stop to look at some small homes in the North End that were advertised for sale. They were cute, but not $289,000 cute. Again, mom's dream of getting a place in Boise was crushed! Poor mom.

Monday morning, I drove Mom and Seth to the airport and said goodbye. I dropped off the rental car and went to work. It was rather busy. Fern and I rode our road bikes up and around the Mesa that night. Later, Fern came over for some much needed R&R (conversation and drinking).

Today, I'm looking forward to an epic ride with Fern. I've managed to clean the house and spend way too much time recounting my week, so I feel accomplished. Till next time, ciao!

Camper's Log: July 2006

2006-07-21T08:40:00.000-07:00

Somebody stop the summer clock already! Slow it down atleast. Its ironic (in an Alanis Morrissette sort of way) that as the days become longer they tend to feel shorter. And lately, days have been passing by as quickly as aggressive drivers on the Connector. Its high time someone cracks down on this behavior. This whole Time thing. Really, its getting ridiculous.

Like, I haven't found the time to tell you about how a week ago Jennifer and I were cramming various camping supplies into the back seat of her Corrola so that she could see out the rear window on the drive to Upper Payette Lake. The effort was made more challenging by the presence of nearly every piece of bedding I own. I've been meaning to tell you that we stopped at Fred Meyer to load up on the groceries we would need for the weekend's camping trip. (We'd later discover that the creative theme to our weekend's menu was "sloppy") But first I wanted to tell you about how we obtained our requisit road trip mocha's from the Flying M on Friday morning before heading north. What I haven't had the time to say doesn't consist of a story-its just the facts. A camper's log, so to speak. First though, the mochas:

This time of year, with these kinds of temperatures (100+-), the iced mocha is usually preferred over the hotter version. Upon sipping an iced mocha, one realizes the utility of the heat missing from the drink. Mochas, both hot and cold, are so delicious that without some built in mechanism to slow their consumption, it is entirely possible, and more than likely, that a serving could be finished off in less than 3 minutes. Thus, the heat. And, why on Friday morning, Fern and I chose mochas that would exist long enough to get us to Horseshoe Bend, where we'd find other things to consume.

Over the short time it took to drive to Horseshoe Bend, the temperature must have risen ten degrees outside. And it seemed as though everyone in that one horseshoe town had a craving for Subway, because the Chevron that housed the lil' sandwhich shop was beyond full capacity soon after we arrived. Kids were sitting on the floor next to the Slim Jims and fig bars, eating their sandwhiches. For lack of seating, Fern and I were forced to share shade with strangers outside on a bench while we ate our mayonnaisey lunch.

The drive north afterwards was pleasant and scenic and not too scary. The music that I carefully selected for the trip included Built to Spill's new album You in Reverse, Iron and Wine, Noe Venable, Death Cab for Cutie's Plans, and a Belle and Sebastian album. Fern also brought Belle and Sebastian, as well as the Beastie Boys, the Shins (I think), and several other discs. So, for much of the trip I enjoyed listening to music, studying the new Idaho Gazateer I purchased at Fred Meyer, and making sure Fern saw every cool or odd thing I saw along the way.

The last several miles of the drive to Upper Payette Lake took place on a perfect piece of asphalt that snaked through the forest, past expensive properties alongside Payette Lake, and paralleled a mellow stream. Soon after arriving at our destination, we located a campsite which overlooked the pristine, sparkling lake. Quickly, we set up camp. During the endeavor, we made first contact with wildlife of the region. We spied a large deer standing majestically in the woods. Also, we became intimately familiar with more than one of the area's flying insects. The mosquitos were not the worste I've ever experienced, but they were definately out in force. Next, we stretched out our legs by walking almost halfway around the lake via a dirt road. At the end of the road we came upon a trail which Fern informed me is a part of her dad's morning coffee hike whenever he and Mary (and, on occasion, the family) camp at the Upper Payette. It was a beautiful part of the hike for sure, as the wide trail meandered right alongside the lake shore, through various interesting and pretty flora.

By the time we approached the area where we expected to find our campsite, we were very ready to be done walking. We had covered 3-5 miles already, and I personally was looking forward to a nice sit in my camp chair. Yet as we walked along the dirt road we came upon a maintained campground that we knew was past our own site. Somehow we hadn't seen our camp and had walked well past it. So, weary and dragging our feet, we backtracked another half mile to stand in amazement at the sight which we didn't see before--our camp, including tent and car, sitting behind a few skinny trees, just waiting for the return of its residence.

We plopped down in our chairs, relaxed a bit, cleaned up a bit, and headed out on a small bike ride. We peddled back to the paved road and headed north in order to get a quick look at any dirt roads and trails that looked promising for future bike riding adventures. We turned off on a dirt road that was particularly, um, jostling. At this time; Fern, out of necessity and genius, devised a makeshift brassier which tamed the jostling and made the ride much more doable for her.

Back at camp, Fern and I shared a craving hunger for sustenance. Sticking to our prepared menu, we had chili dogs for supper. Later, as the stars began to appear, we sat around the campfire and sipped wine. (the expert at the Co-op told me that the wine I selected was the perfect complement to chili dogs)

Sleep did happen Friday night and Saturday morning. However, it was one of the hottest nights I've experienced when camping. Because of that, and due to the fact that I had forgotten my inflatable mattress, I was unable to sleep like the baby I sometimes am.

Right. Saturday morning breakfast consisted of Lil Sizzlers n' scrambled eggs, as well as excellent coffee prepared by Fern and her late coffee press-RIP. (the press would break on the last day of the trip) After lounging around for awhile, we jumped in the car and headed to McCall in search of super happy fun time floatation devices. The extemely hot sun and the cool crisp lake got Fern and I excited about playing in the water. In McCall, Pauls "department" store failed to produce the goods we were looking for. -though we both procured a pair of sweet river shoes for 8$. McCall's Rite Aid had the right stuff-inflatables of all shapes and sizes, and all at a fairly decent price. I purshased a thingymajig that you can lay down on (what do you call those?) and Fern bought a donut shaped thinymajig.

The day was getting on by the time we returned to camp, so after a short break we readied ourselves for the big adventure of the weekend-a mountain bike ride to Loon Lake. To hear about that epic ride, and for pictures, go to Fern's blog at http://sidetracked.quellesurprise.com/.
I'll add that the first half of the ride was just about as perfect as a ride could be. It more than made up for the overly technical/scary second half. The wilderness and lake were simply gorgeous. It definately exceeded expectations.

At camp I quickly consumed an ice cold fuzzy navel. Fern and I went down to the lake to clean up as best we could. For some reason, I challenged myself to fully submerge my body in the lake, despite the frigid waters. It took atleast 20-30 minutes, but I was able to become somewhat accustomed to the cold, and gave myself a thorough cleansing.

That night we had sloppy joes for supper.

With my new air mattress, I was able to sleep deeply the night of Saturday evening/Sunday morning. Breakfast consisted of granalo, eggs, and coffee. While Fern was away, a medium sized fox trotted through the campsite, sniffing at things along the way. He didn't seem to care that I was sitting not more than a few yards from him. I kept my eye on the fox as it scavenged around the campsite next to ours. For a moment I sat back down and sipped my coffee. Suddenly, the fox returned, walking right passed me, and jumped onto a large rock located at the edge of camp. At this point, it appeared as though the fox was simply checking me out. I remembered that Fern's camera was in her bag. I grabbed it and prepared to take a picture of the fox on the rock, but a noise caused the it to bolt out of the campsite.

After such a tough day Saturday, Fern and I were both looking forward to a casual, relaxing Sunday spent in camp. So when Fern returned from the bathroom, she knitted while I attempted to start a fire without using matches. I had never done so before, and thought it would be quite the accomplishment if I could. Carefully I gathered everything I thought I'd need. My focus was on planning-finding just the right materials and setting up my working space to be comfortable. My grand plan came to naught when I was unable to keep the spinning stick (attached to a string and bow) steady.

The day became scorching hot. Fern and I made our way to the lake with our inflatables. Despite the frigid water, we were able to float around a bit, explore the shore, throw stones (splash contest), and build a "warming pool" out of large rocks. Feeling accomplished, we broke down camp, packed up the car, and went to McCall for lunch/dinner. We stopped in at McCall's shopping mall where we browsed through a store full of distasteful items for decorating your cabin; and checked out a store full of absolutely freaky insects in display cases, a variety of polished stone items, and colorful framed butterflies. Before leaving McCall, we visited one of Fern's favorite antique stores. It was a large, neat store in which the items on sale were arranged according to color-there was a brown area, a green area, blue, and so on.

The drive back to Boise was nice. In Cascade, I purchased an icy vanilla frepe and took over driving duties from Fern, who was absolutely wiped out from the trip.

And that was last weekend, minus some fun facts about chipmunks and yellow birds and such. I hope you found it informative. Now I've got to get going and do something worth writing about.

2006-07-11T16:28:00.000-07:00

Never, never forget your weekends. This, I recently explained to my mom, is extremely important. The moment you get off work Friday (or in my case, Thursday) marks the start of one more opportunity to have as much fun and adventure as you can possibly conceive. The weekend is your chance to demonstrate to the world that you know how to live the good life. Everything you've learned and experienced in life up until the time you step out of the office/shop/classroom/factory/etc on a Friday can now be employed to help you have the time of your life over the next two days. We can be patriotic only on weekends, when real freedom finally exists. Given that three-quarters of our lives is spent working or sleeping; if you live to be 80, you would be justified in thinking that you only really lived for around 20 years. How much you enjoyed your 20 years depends upon how seriously you planned and executed your weekend activities.

Obviously, I'm incapable of composing an introduction to a rather ordinary blog without waxing dramatic. Here's what I did over the weekend. Undoubtedly, it will be anticlimatic after my speech.

Friday morning hung out at the M and wrote 4-5 pages regarding the difference between believing that a god exists who can save your mortal life/soul and believing that a team of doctors do in fact have a donor heart which they can transplant into your body in order to save you from impending heart failure. This was probably the most interesting stuff I've written to date. The analysis led me to conclude that there are many good reasons so many people are "believers", and that to be a believer is not so outrageous or unreasonable after all. This does not change the fact that to me there is clearly a lack of reason for believing....at any rate, I'll post what I wrote on "The Deconstruction..." blog as soon as I have time to.

After the M, me and my bike took a bus to the west side of town where I did some shopping at the Lux and Savors. I managed to find a couple items I was really happy about and a few more a was satisfied with. Unfortunately, one of my favorite items (a white longsleeve cotton shirt) became stained somehow, and an ok item (a vintage red cowboy shirt) was found to have strange spots on it. Both didn't come out after bleaching and washing. boo hoo!

I road my bike back home and proceeded to work out a bit. Next, I sunbathed along side the pool. My tan is coming along nicely; however, this means the tan line below my waist is looking sillier and sillier.

Upon becoming sexified, I met Fern and we had dinner at Bardenay. She had a tunamelt and I had a reuben. Both were to die for...

From there we toodled to Julia Davis Park and threw the poof football around. I had forgotten the smashmitten birdie; so we rode back to the apartment, retrieved it, and smacked the birdie around at Municiple Park.

Finally, we attempted to watch the latest Pirates of the Carribean movie to its completion, but failed because it just would not stop--and I thought it sucked.

Saturday, Fern and I pedaled our road bikes out Hill Road and well west of town on a course Fern has ridden a few times already. I really enjoyed putting a few more miles behind me. It helps that Fern is not at all slow on her bike. We cruised along at a snappy pace throughout the ride.

There wasn't much time to clean up and get over to Jennifer's parent's house, where we were to celebrate her mom's birthday. Fern and I volunteered to pick up everyone's dinner from the Olive Garden. Back at the house I enjoyed my linguini a la marinara with shrimp while chatting with Fern's grandparents, who are both like 100 years old and self supportive-wow!

After the nice birthday party (which included icecream cake), Fern and I went to the mall to do some underwear shopping. Ofcourse, I had to check out shoes and jeans which I can't afford.

Then it was to Barnes n' Nobles to delve into bike magazines for free.

Sunday I worked until 5. That evening Fern made dinner with a couple of amazing seasoned vegetable dishes. We especially liked the cauliflower. When things cooled off enough, we rode to the highschool track field and played smashmitten until we were exhausted. For awhile we rested in the grass and watched the stars slowly reveal themselves.

Weekend Warrior

2006-07-05T21:56:00.000-07:00

Oh, I'm already embarrased. This is going to be the shortest posting yet, but I'm committed to making some sort of note regarding my weekends' activities, regardless of whether or not I'm brimming with energy or creativity.
Last Friday, with renewed zest for exploration, I rode my mountain bike in an area just west of Bogus Basin Road-a complex of trails I'd only been on twice in the last 10 years. I felt great riding big-gear/medium-gear intervals up Bogus Basin Road, riding new terrain, being drenched in sweat, and learning future route-possiblities. Back home I rediscovered the usefullness of Google Maps satellite images as I analyzed the terrain I'd just ridden, and memorized the location of nearbye trails I've yet to ride.
Later that day, I hung out with Randy at the Flying M, and later spent time with Fern.
Saturday, Fern picked me up and took me to the M, where we ate our breakfasts of granola and blue berries, and bought Mochas for the road. We drove to Emmett, parked in front of Albertsons, used its facilities to get ready, and set out on our adventurous tour of the Payette River valley. The miles ticked by beneath our wheels. The weather during the first half of the ride was perfect, the rural scenery quite pretty, and traffic sparse. 25 miles and an hour and a half later, we rolled into New Plymouth. In a local market we found the goods necessary for refueling our bodies and continuing our journey. I consumed fig bars, tea w' honey, as well as cheese n' beefstick for the salt. Fern had a Lunchable. After topping off our water and posing for some photos, we returned to rural Idaho roads, this time south of the Payette River on the "orchard" side of the valley. Things heated up a great deal; but as we both proclaimed, it wasn't that bad as long as we kept riding. Our route took us over fun rollercoastery roads, a stretch of gravely canal road, past menacing dogs, and alongside cherry orchards (from which I aquired n' ate a couple ripe n' sweet cherrys). For our viewing pleasure, there were all kinds of colorful cows, horses, goats, lamas, and other four legged creatures off in fields along the way. During the ride I experienced Fern experiencing speeds on her bike that I don't know if she had ever experienced before. At one point, I felt something fly down my jersey. Immediately afterwards I cluched at my jersey in an attempt to capture/crush whatever it was that was stinging me. It turned out to be a wasp. As fun and rad as the ride was, we were just becoming ready to be done as we approached Emmett. Later that day; Eric, Randy, and I went to Buster's to take watch the prologue of the Tour de France. We were there entirely too long (two hours) given the low level of excitement created from a mini time trial. I felt sick upon eating lack-luster hot wings. That evening, I met Fern for a movie at Satchel's. I treated myself to a glass of white wine, and attempted to get into the old movie. Ultimately, I gave into exhaustion, and headed home before the end.

2006-06-21T20:06:00.000-07:00

A glance past sliding glass doors finds a shadow stretching across the rooftop of the laundry facility. Its 9:05 and the sun is setting. I could be on my bike right now, threading my way through sagebrush on my way back to town, having completed an hour long post-work ride. Its no wonder I hate winter and its bitter short days. Perhaps if I never knew how great things got in summer...

I woke up this morning to a soft roar outside my window. By the time it repeated itself, I knew hot air balloons were congregating above the city. With new reason to jump out of bed, I walked outside and watched the Energizer Bunny float over my apartment. I wondered whether it was difficult to pilot a balloon shaped like a rabbit playing the drums. It did seem to drop and lurch rather quickly, yet it maintained its leisurely pace in a northward trajectory.

Later in the day, a coworker would question whether or not a b.b. gun would give a hot air balloon pilot any trouble. The question became an opportunity for others to share their expertise regarding hot air balloons; in particular, how the balloons were equipped with vents which could be modulated to produce holes much larger than any hole produced by a b.b. gun. Apparantly, dealing with large releases and influxes of hot air is just a normal part of operating a hot air balloon. This fact did not satisfy the coworker who originally asked the question about the b.b. gun. What about a shotgun, he challenged. This particular coworker-someone who uses the word "like" as, like, every other word-is working on his doctorate.

As fascinated by giant inflatables as I am, I must ask whether anyone else has heard that dogs tend to be deathly afraid of hot air balloons. Upon seeing one, my boss's dog bolted out of the back yard and dissapeared for most of the day; only to be found miles from home, cowering in some bushes nursing his bloody paws (from running around for hours in a panic). This news reminded me that, yes, there is something that will make every living being completely loose it; no matter what species the being is, and no matter how in control that being thinks he/she/it is. Like, I once awoke in some abandoned mine on the other side of Lucky Peak days after having viewed a Fox News segment featuring Ann Coulter.

I'd like to keep typing, but I'm distracted by my own thoughts regarding where I'm going to ride my bike today. With my apartment fairly clean, and most other errands taken care of, I have several hours which could be dedicated to an epic ride of some sort. I keep thinking about the TFR, or "Tough Fucking Ride". The TFR consists of Rocky Canyon Road up and over Aldape Summit, down to Robbie Creek, to Highway 21, up over hilltop, down past the dam, and back home on the greenbelt. Its not really that tough, and I don't know if it really justifies the use of the expletive "fucking". The trip takes no more than 3 hours at the most. Still it is exciting and "epic" in the sense that you essentially circumnavigate a small mountain and travel over a couple tiny summits. Later, when Fern gets off work, I'd be able to go for another ride. I've been off the bike so much the last few weeks, that doubling down today sounds really great. Anyway, I'm sure my readers would rather listen to their own thoughts instead of mine, so I'll end this and start my day's adventure.

2006-06-13T00:25:00.000-07:00

Sorry, there is no new post today. Please try again later when I'm not as tired. It's 1am and I'm powering down in anticipation of a very very satisfying night's slumber. I don't work tomorrow, so I will be able to sleep in. Also, my left buttock has regenerated itself almost completely, thus I should be able to lie in bed in whatever position I fancy.
If you ignored my previously stated assurance that there is no new post today and have read on this far, It might do you well to know that my weekend was a pleasant one. Fern and I shaked what our mommas' gave us at the Balcony on Pride Night, Saturday night. Earlier that day we ventured west to Nampa where we had our first experience in the new Flying M Coffee Garage. The establishment's design was stunning, but its edibles were less than stellar. We galivanted around downtown Nampa; checking out a knitting store (heaven on earth for Fern), an antique store, and a-place-to-eat store, otherwise known as a restaurant. Before leaving the quaint village of Nampa, we visited a couple second hand clothing stores and suprisingly found nothing but a bunch of junk not worth purchasing.
Yesterday evening, Fern and I accompanied Devlyn to the Shakespeare Festival amphitheatre and watched a production entitled "A funny thing happened on the way to the forum." (correct me if I'm wrong) The weather was perfect and while the play was no episode of The Daily Show, it was very humorous in less intelligent sorts of ways, which is something I can appreciate from time to time. The play WAS funny, but if it were much less funny, I'd simply call it "good natured". During the play; Devlyn, Fern, and I lounged on a slanty bit of grass and dined on a pasta salad supremo as well as excellent cheeses, wine, and chocolate. I could not enjoy the bread supplied by Devlyn as I am allergic to all crunchy breads. At any rate, it was a beautiful evening of merriment.
By the way, Friday evening was kind of neat too. Fern and I travelled to Eagle in order to see what fun could be had during "Eagle Fun Days". For me the fun amounted to watching category 1 and 2 cyclists race in a criterium, listening to live tunes, talking to a few people I know, watching other people and children do silly things, and ofcourse hanging out with Fern-with whom every day is a "fun day".
In the meantime, Fern is rapidly developing into a competent road cyclist. I'm hoping I will soon return to form on both bikes.

Renewed Appreciation

2006-06-06T21:28:00.000-07:00

I'd like to express my appreciation for iced mochas, shockingly beautiful sunsets, Boise summer evenings, and being alive to experience them. They're all very nice things.

However, all is not rainbows and roses. "Shopping" for a dentist is apparantly a foreign concept in our society. I suppose when insurance usually pays for a particular type of service, price consideration goes out the window.

I've got a quick question for those who aced the grammar sections of their SATs. When is the use of the word "that" appropriate?? Should I have placed a "that" inbetween the words "suppose" and "when" in the last sentence of the last paragraph? "I suppose when insurance..." vs. "I suppose that when insurance..." This may be the grammatical dilema I find myself in most often.

Right; other things that tend to suck: Really long drives. Senior citizens with poor eyesight driving oversized utility trucks over the white line. Also, trying to maintain a good posture when you can't fully plant your weight on your left cheek.

Finally, because the good really does outweigh the bad, I'll close by noting a few things that are especially awesome. Fern's Karen O shirt. Having a clean apartment that also happens to be really cool. Getting to save the world one bicycle at a time. Intellectual stimulation, even if that intellectual stimulation comes from reading a book written by a dimwit (The Reconstruction of Belief, by Charles Gore). Flickr and looking at a slide show of recent adventures. Oh, and George Hincapie recovering from his scary crash in the Paris Roubaix in April and taking 2nd in the Dauphine Libre prologue yesterday, the traditional prep race for the Tour de France. Vive le Tour!

Fern's link updated. Enjoy!

2006-06-01T07:37:00.000-07:00

My Five Day Weekend

2006-05-29T21:20:00.000-07:00

Four days down, one to go till the end of a great five day weekend. The way it happened was I had my usual Friday and Saturday off, then Mike worked for me Sunday in exchange for my working this next Saturday, then today is Memorial Day and the store was closed, and finally Tomorrow is another one of my scheduled days off. Cool, eh?

So, just for the record (as opposed to for your entertainment) here's what I've done over the last four days.

Friday:
Watched the Giro d' Italia live on the net. Jens Voigt broke away with a Spanish climber at the end of a very difficult mountain stage. Amazingly, Voigt hung with him all the way to the finish, but did not race for the win. He patted the Spaniard on the back, shook his hand, and allowed him to cross the line for the victory. This "gift" was given because Voigt's teammate Basso was winning the entire race, and Voigt had not worked with the Spaniard for most of the climb. In case you needed to know.
After viewing the Giro, I cleaned the apartment a bit, and headed off to meet Fern for lunch. I brought her an Italian sub from Blimpies, juice, chips, and cookies (I am an excellent provider). We ate in the hospital cafeteria since the weather had turned fairly cold outside.
Next, I went to the Flying M and read. Fern met me there when she got off work. We both were thinking sushi for dinner, so we ended up at Zutto's and had an absolutely amazing meal. Then we cleaned up at Fern's and hit the dance floor at The Balcony. It was a fun and interesting experience. (See Fern's blog)

Saturday:
After watching the second-to-last Giro stage live on the net (Basso won over Simoni), I met Fern at the Flying M. Elizabeth (Fern's good friend) and Edvin met us there for a chat (they were visiting from Portland). We all left and went to Fern's apartment. Elizabeth and Edvin took a walk. Fern and I ended up going downtown, stopping in at the Record Exchange and the Lux. Next, we had lunch at Cafe Ole. We split a chicken enchilada, yum. Then we browsed around at Shoes and Funktion before catching a matinee at Bodo's Edwards 9. We watched Xmen 3, "The Last Stand". Highly entertaining indeed. Next, we drove to Barnes n' Nobles for some more R&R&R (rest, relaxation, and reading). On the way home, I picked up dinner at Wendi's drive-thru. It had rained almost the entire day.

Sunday:
Met Fern at the Flying M again. Elizabeth arrived to meet Fern for some BF time. I went home, had lunch, and took a nap. Fern called later. We went for a walk down alleys and through part of downtown. Next, we went to Fred Meyers and did some grocery shopping. We picked up a DVD at Hollywood. At my apartment we made an amazing dinner of tender steak, citrus broccoli, acorn squash, and sauteed mushrooms. We dipped the steak and mushrooms in A1 steak sauce and beef gravy. The movie we watched, Aeon Flux, was simply awesome. In addition, we consumed a bottle of good wine. The quality evening continued until it was time for both of us to go to bed.

Monday (today):
Slept in fairly late. Fern picked me up and we went to Starbucks for our morning mocha, chat, and paper/book read. For lunch we grabbed a couple subs from Subway. We drove out to Meridian, to Boondocks, where we met Sarah and Kelly for two rounds of miniature golf. It was fun despite the sun's rays sans sunscreen and despite a freak who told us we should hurry up (he was a freak because only someone who's lost his mind would say such a thing to me and risk getting punched in the face-I'm a peaceful person, really...). Fern took me home where I ate some toast, watched tv, and took a short nap. I got up and met Fern for an easy bike ride out hill road, down a canal road and back. I rode home, took a shower, and met Fern again for dinner at her place and some happy fun times playing "smashmitten" and tossing the "Poof" football around in the Boise High School football field. We ended the night talking and drinking a beer on her porch.

Post Sanfrancisco

2006-05-26T13:56:00.000-07:00

You may not have heard or seen it from me, but plenty of good times have been had since the San Francisco trip. I do have a few photos to offer as evidence of these happenings that, through sheer laziness, I have yet to write about. Take a gander:
Erm, the images uploaded above.... Who knows how they'll shuffle themselves after I publish this post.
As you can see, good times have been had with friends and with Fern (a good friend) lately. The first photo was taken at Tom and Laura's house soon after the vacation. There we dined on turkey burgers and soy chorizos while scorning appallingly nasty comics which we wanted nothing to do with. The images taken at high altitude (as indicated by the evergreen trees) are from Tuesday's bike ride up Hard Guy. We made quick work of 6000 feet, up and down, that day. The last image is a great shot of Fern rocking and a-rolling up a pretty steep dirt road (Harris Creek?). Oh, and the image of Fern n' flowers has Boise in the background. Its hard to see because its sooo far below us.

Bird in a Box

2006-05-20T21:31:00.000-07:00

I'm a daddy! That's right, I've got a baby. Sure, you'd have to go back several hundred million years to find the point in which our genetic codes bore a father and son similarity, but it doesn't change the fact that the survival of the little tike is contingent upon my diligent caretaking. And his time with me may be very influential. Who knows, maybe he'll grow to whistle the Morrissey tune he's currently being exposed to by his, eh hem, pappy.

Ok, I'm really not that stoked about having to take care of a baby bird for the next who knows how many days. Already I've had to chop squirming worms in half, getting their guts on my fingers in the process, before dropping them into Sir Squawksalot's gaping pie-hole. And if the fledgeling lives up to his name, I risk pissing off my roommate and becoming very annoyed myself.

So how did I come into possession of a baby bird? I was slowly riding back into Boise after having completed a big loop south of town when I glanced to the left and saw Sir Squawksalot sitting in the a grassy plot in front of a glue factory or something, squawking his head off to anyone who'd listen. He was a big fella with black feathers and huge head and gaping mouth. I don't know who he thought would walk up and drop something tasty into his mouth, but I didn't see any feathered friend who gave a shit, so I became worried that he might be starving, as per the way he was acting. I circled in for a closer look and then started glancing down at puddles in search of something squirmy to feed him. Finding nothing, I slowly rode away. Empathy got the best of me. I stopped in at a truck stop and asked the cashier for a box. I road back to Sir Squawksalot, scooped him up, placed him in the box, and zipped down to the Flying J where I purchased a canister of night crawlers. Carefully, I made it home without sending the box and bird flying into traffic. I dropped Sir Squawksalot onto a bed of grass in my back yard and gave him a few minutes to get over the shock of a rough trip encased in cardboard. Taking a cue from a National Geographic program on raising condores, I made a lame bird puppet out of a black sock just to ensure the successful feeding I was about to dispense. The feeding was indeed a success. For a while the bird seemed content. It wasn't long before he began squawking again, and I felt compelled to feed him more. I fed him three times in three hours, I think.

At any rate, I've acquired a box for Sir Squawksalot. I also bought chicken liver and canned dog food for his dining pleasure these next few days. I'm hoping he survives, grows strong, and flys away soonish.

Got to go. I need to try feeding the baby so he'll stay quiet through the night.

2006-05-10T21:12:00.000-07:00

Ok, it seems weird to still be talking about the San Francisco trip over a week later, but I told myself I'd give a day by day account of the trip, and by golly, I intend to do it. (This'll really be a memory exercise)

Day two, I awoke! I awoke well rested, in comparison to almost every other experience I've had sleeping in a strange place or with another body in my bed. I think I recall that there was a bit of a struggle in the night to become comfortable with less than the average amount of bedding over my body, and between my feet, knees, and arms. I remember waking in the night and listening to Fern's breathing and thinking "yay, she's sleeping!" It's always a cause to celebrate when she gets a good night sleep.

So, I think we purchased our morning mochas at the world's busiest Starbucks on Friday morning. We took our nubile selfs south of Market Street and into Yerba Buena Park with all its fun curvy elevated walk ways, neat architecture, gardens, and kooky soft-bottomed playgrounds. There are several photos depicting this part of the trip. We stopped in the kooky soft-bottomed playground, took pictures, and watched funny kids galavanting in the absolutely gorgeous sunshine.

Its doesn't seem right, but I'm pretty sure that this was the same day Fern and I strolled down to Southpark-an old neighborhood around an oval park n' playground. Of course we had to swing on the swings and visit the coffee shop that was sooo Italianesque that Vespas were parked out front and the windows were open, thus creating a pleasant open air environment in which to drink espresso beverages. The Southpark experience was our first excursion into a part of the city that was decidedly a neighborhood which existed seemingly far far away from the tourists and shopping. Several people walked dogs and read books in the park. It was nice.

Next, the real walking began and our surroundings became much less "nice". We walked from Southpark through SoMa towards The Mission. Our destination was a place called "Blowfish", which was, according to the Sanfrancisco weekly paper, voted best of all sushi establishments. Before arriving at Blowfish, we had to walk 15 city blocks of warehouses, clubs, and various trashy establishments. When we finally arrived at a park near Blowfish, it was infested with homeless people. This was about the time I really came to appreciate the comfort and quality of Starbucks coffee shops. We came across one of the nicest Starbucks I've ever been to, which offered us a place to pee and coushy couches to rest our weary feet. This particular Starbucks was very spacious and adorned with intriguing oil paintings of real blue collar workers of the city.

We decided to step into Blowfish a little before our reservation time, which was fine with the hostess. We dined on some amazing sushi. It was so amazing that I made the spontaneous decision to order more of the best we had, along with a couple Saporos..? I think we spent $60 for that dinner, but we totally deserved it.

We decided to walk back to town despite our aching feet. On the way, we passed by City Hall, the Veteran's Center?., and the Asian Art Museum, which were all majestic buildings of granite, columns and domes. It was in this area that Fern witnessed a street person crouching with his pants down as though he were going to take a dump in the middle of the sidewalk. I'm sure she would rather had forgotten this, but, sorry.... Also while in this area, the absense of places to urinate was acutely felt. Nearing "home", we walked through an area of the city that the tourist guides recommended staying out of. I read about the area the day after we walked through it.

For the rest of the evening, I rested and read. Fern caught up with her friend Amy over some beers.

Clearly, I'm running out of motivation for this writing/memory exercise. I'll finish up next time. Goodnight.

San Francisco: The True Story

2006-05-09T10:09:00.000-07:00

If you're a regular reader of my blog (hi Fern and Devlyn!), you most likely find yourself visiting the site of my girlfriend Jennifer on occassion. And that's great, because she's got this way about her-you know, she's rather charming and hilarious!. Last time she posted, Fern told readers all about the fun n' adventure the two of us had while in San Francisco a couple weeks ago. The blog she wrote was an instant hit, a masterpiece of vibrant, descriptive literature; as well as a handy reference for anyone who wishes to experience the grungy underbelly of the city. Sadly, her account of events during that momentous week is just one highly creative fictional contruct. A grand story for sure, but a story written to deceive, to place a veil over your eyes so that the real truth will not be discovered. Ladies and gentlemen, my purpose today is to finally reveal to you the truth behind the lies. In no way do I intend to spend thirty minutes writing some silly introduction to my San Francisco story for the sole purpose of humoring myself. NO, I'd never admit to such petty narcissism! Now, open your minds and your hearts to the light of truth, ladies and gentlemen. Here is the real story as it really happened during those fateful days in late April (and early May):

Before our departure, Fern and I set out in search of quality mochachinos. The Mocha is our way of celebrating the start of any day off, mini vacation, or true vacation. The Mocha is sometimes utilized in the middle of the day, when that middle of the day comes after a rest period which essentially makes the middle of the day feel like the beginning of the day. I think of the drink as liquid excitement. Whereas little dogs pittle when they get all excited, Fern and I grab a mocha and talk about how excited we are about it and the day ahead of us. Needless to say, there were a lot of mochas consumed during our trip. San Francisco=excitement too, wouldn't you say?

We couldn't find a satisfactory mocha experience Thursday morning due to a downtown power outage (I'll never forget stepping into a dark Flying M coffehouse and hearing nothing-no espresso machine making magic). We were both also hungry, so after nearly dying, we rushed to the airport in order to get food n' mochas and chill ourselves out. Everything became great again, despite the mochas coming from an airport Moxie Java.

Fern and I sat next to each other on the plane of course, but the experience was unexpectedly romantic/exciting. I asked Fern to pardon me if I stared out of her window-it was something I often did on flights, I said. Fern informed me that she liked to do the same. An hour into the flight, I was still primarily staring out the window, thinking about where we were at that moment, imagining what it was like living down there, and looking for anything remotely interesting to see from 30,000 feet. I guess my mentality is that of a dog-in-a-car when I'm flying.

I really craned my neck to get a glimpse of the city as our plane made its descent. I saw very little but murky waters of the bay. After landing we quickly found our bags (which were distinctively marked with 7 year old pink fuzz on their handles) and stepped onto the airports el-train, which took us to the Bay Area Rapid Transit station. Fern struggled with a malfunctioning ticket machine while I struggled to make sense of the BART route map. We made it onto a train that seemed to be heading in the general direction we wanted to go. After a lot of banshee screaching and several stops, the train let us off at Market and Powell Street. Playing photographer to the stars, I snapped pictures of Fern as she walked up the steps into the bustling city and bright, beautiful day. We discovered plenty of tourists with shopping bags in hand, taking photos of the trolley as a small army of costumed "engineers" manually turned the trolley 180 degrees upon a special circular track thingymajig. Among the tourists and shoppers, there was almost as many "street people" performing a variety of coin-worthy acts, like tap dancing on a piece of plywood.

Fern and I made our way towards Union Square through a maze of shoppers. The square in the midst of huge majestic buildings was quite an awesome thing. By the looks of things, it was apparantly a hot spot for catching some rays and enjoying one's lunch. After checking into the hostile (two blocks away), Fern and I did what the locals do. We grabbed a bite at a sandwhich/everything shop and enjoyed the beautiful weather lounging on the grass in Union Square.

Regarding our room at the Adelaide Hostile, it was simply perfect. I was elated to realize that we'd be spending the next five days in such a comfortable, private setting. I think we both were. The ceiling was high. We had a huge window with a perfect voyeurs view of rooms across the way. Vines were growing into the big window and through the tiny window above where we slept. I felt close to nature, even though we were in the middle of the city.

After freshening up, Fern and I set out into the city, cameras in hand but sans luggage. This is when we grabbed lunch and lounged in the square. We then walked around the immediate area checking out a variety of high-end and not-quite-so-high-end shops. Fern saw the Dior bag in the window of the Dior store. I pushed her through the door so that she could have a closer look. We stopped by some shoe stores, the Levi's store, a Guess store, a Camper! store, a Shoe Pavalion store, and a whole bunch o' other stores. We also ventured south of Market Street and took photos of interesting architecture and the two of us together in a park near Yerba Buena park.

It was a very very enjoyable time. Especially considering we had bought ourselves another hour when we crossed into the Pacific time zone. Despite what our phones said, we had plenty of time to explore before we needed to get ready for the Ryan Adams concert at the Palace of Fine Arts.

After getting sexified, we boarded the bus that would take us to the Palace. The bus was packed full of residents of China Town, as that was the first part of the city we passed through. At some point, Fern asked someone if the time the bus flashed on its screen was the actual time. When the person answered in the affirmative, she and I looked at each other wide-eyed and slack-jawed. We had less than 15 minutes until the concet was scheduled to start! Apparantly, our phones automatically set themselves to the correct time. All the while we thought that the phones were an hour ahead. Needless to say, I felt a bit stressed during the 15 minutes it took us to find out that we weren't going to miss anything, or have to walk into the concert house and rudely take our seats in the front row while Ryan was singing. So, no big deal. There was an opening act, which kind of sucked. Interestingly enough, there was a second act going on at the same time as the main show. The second act was more comedy than anything, with Ryan talking to himself, the crowd, his manager, and whoever would listen. It was one of the best acts I've ever seen, atleast until it got old and I just wanted to hear him sing. The singing was constantly being interrupted by the comedy, but the songs were so well done (albiet stripped down) that I felt I got my money's worth.

When the concert was finally over, Fern and I dragged ourselves back to the hostile, but mustered enough energy to walk down to Lefty O'Doule's, drink a couple beers and sing along with middle aged people and the piano man.
more to come...

San Francisco Pictures

2006-05-03T21:22:00.000-07:00

San Francisco, the sunshine city! I can't believe how bright everything appears to be in the pictures I posted yesterday. My hypothesis is that airborne moisture in the form of fog, clouds, haze, and hazey fog has a tendency to reflect (or refract, if I may) direct sunlight into your eyes regardless of whether or not you're looking towards the sun. Its really cool, actually. Maybe that's one reason I sort of miss the city. I experienced the best light therapy of my life there. Hopefully Boise's intermittent clouds and stark blue skies don't bring me down. Anyway, here's more photos:

2006-05-02T21:19:00.000-07:00

My California Atlas is open to the San Francisco page. I keep glancing down at the peninsula, my eyes drawn towards its topography and complex grid of city streets. Something is very odd about the image. It seems to be out of scale. There's no doubt that San Francisco is huge. I have experienced its enormity first hand. Over the last six days I've traveled the city via bike, bus, rail, and especially through the use of my lower appendages. The weariness sitting in my bones like lead is testament to my great effort to "get to know" and "experience" the city. As awesome as the week of discovery was, I know that I barely scratched the surface of what San Francisco has to offer. And as much walking as Fern and I did, clearly there was so much more ground, so many more streets, that could have been covered. Yet I look at this Atlas and observe that the city is not more than seven miles across in any direction. It just doesn't seem right, but it is. San Francisco, like Manhattan, defies space and time by harboring so much of humanity in such a small area.

At any rate, Fern and I had a lot of fun. I sit down and tell you all about it soon. For now, have a look at Fern in action in San Francisco.

2006-04-25T09:06:00.000-07:00

The first two photos were taken while Fern and I hiked around Table Rock a couple of weeks ago. If you look closely at the Fern pic, you'll see a wee mountain biker or two riding up a trail below us. (look to the left of her shoulder) Then there's the picture of me amongst a shrubby rock outcropping, somehow looking rather buff. I took the last picture while riding up Your Mom to meet Fern, who was walking Chester.

2006-04-23T21:55:00.000-07:00

Yeah, so these pics are insanely random... The pictures in which you find Fern or I amongst a lot of sand were taken yesterday at the Bruneau sand dunes. The ones that show Fern or I sitting on some rocks were taken a couple weeks ago on Castle Rock. See, sand=bruneau sand dunes; rock=castlerock. Its pretty simple. Next time the format will be brilliant, I swear.

Check it...

That's Fern seeing the biggest sand dune in North America, walking up it backwards, and mounting it like it was just another pansy kids sandcastle. Cool, huh?

2006-04-20T21:54:00.000-07:00

Hey. I'm starting to wonder if the French don't have good reason for being as cocky as everyone says they are. After Fern told me today that she's been feeling like she's been in a constant hurry for days now (she's been house/dog-sitting), and how she hasn't had much down time for herself, my feelings regarding the easy life have been reaffirmed. I too have felt rushed a lot lately. Yesterday, for example, I got off work at 7 and immediately headed out for a bike ride before the sun went down. Then, as previously noted, I met Fern for a drink at Penguilly's. Today, I left work around 7:10, hurried home, showered, and hitched a ride with Fern to the Fulton Street Theatre to catch a play that started at 8:00. Yes, I chose to go for a bike ride, and I chose to see the play; but I don't know, I just wish I'd never heard of the 40-hour work week. I'd love to be able to do these things and never be in a hurry. I wonder how many more years or decades will pass before people in this country decide that they no longer want to work their lives away, and adopt a somewhat French approach to living-an approach that, according to the stereotype, involves slowly savoring quality instead of quickly accumulating quantity. If the kiss tells us anything, its that the French can teach us a thing or two about living.

I'm noticing that the DVD my mom sent me, "Snowboard Academy", starring Jim Varney aka "Ernest", has a label stating "Security Device Enclosed". Just the fact that someone thought a person might want to steal the movie, and went to the trouble of enclosing a security device is, to me, mildly amusing. I almost smile when I realize that Jim Varney's face-the scary one he's making on the cover of "Snowboard Academy", the same one he makes when asking Vern if Vern knows what he means-got him a career in Hollywood that spanned over a decade.

I digress. Its bedtime. Night.

2006-04-19T21:47:00.000-07:00

Gee, my new work schedule is swell. Yesterday was another day off. I spent it doing laundry, watching an old film starring a young Elizabeth Taylor on AMC, purchasing new sketchbooks and notebooks, sipping a mocha while working on my "project" at River City Bagel, going on a bike ride up Hulls and Sidewinder with Jennifer (which was pleasant n' sunny-and Fern was quite the little accomplisher of things), eating a Wopper with cheese meal at home, and finally, hanging out with Fern at my apartment at the end of the day.
Today, I worked. The work I accomplished consisted of organizing, stocking, and inventoring road tires and saddles. I also sold a custom "sunset" Electra cruiser, which made me want a cruiser for myself even more. After all the working, I road my bike around and up Table Rock. It was difficult. I cleared the extremely steep terrain with grace and consistency despite my immense suffering. Later in the evening I met Fern at Pengillie's for some wine and quality conversation. I knocked over Fern's wine accidently, which was embarrasing; and Fern screamed for a second when it happened, which was embarrasing for her. Otherwise, we had a good time talking about our personal clostrephobic/panic episodes (while swimming, in close quarters, and with Fern, getting her blood pressure taken). We also talked about how gossip and negativity in the work place is immature. I described to Fern how I almost was bitten by a boxer (dog) on the way over. Much more was said. Goodnight.

2006-04-16T21:28:00.000-07:00

Here's just a quick run down of the last few days' events. Today: Sleep till 9:30ish. Meet Fern at Dawson Taylor for coffee chat n' read n' plan for San Fran trip. Eat lunch at Micky D's on Overland. Fern and I go our seperate ways so Fern can nap and Eric and I can find a place to watch the Amstel Gold race. Initially, folks at Bitter Creek wouldn't turn a tv to the Outdoor Life Network because, apparantly, some dude was watching an NBA game and needed all 4 tvs to do so. We checked the Ram, and despite being told over the phone that they have OLN, turned out they didn't. Buster's was closed (easter). We went back to Bitter Creek ready to get just a little belligerent if they wouldn't turn atleast one tv to OLN, but the waitress said we could before we opened our mouths. Watched the final 50 minutes of the race, which wasn't that exciting. Met Fern afterwards at her apartment. After a little R&R we walked Chester-the border collie of the person Fern is house sitting for. The weather was the nicest it had been all day as we walked around Camelback park. It was a pleasant time. Came to my apartment, ate dinner (pasta) and watched Alien 3, which I found to be quality entertainment.

Yesterday (Saturday) was a glorious day, weather-wise. Fern and I met at the M at 8:30 for mochas, and departed for the Owyhees an hour later with our bikes and gear. We rode one and a half times around the Barking Spider race course. Fern did well on the new terrain despite the horrendous wind that buffetted us from the southwest. We captured some photos of the adventure. Before leaving, we set out on a trail I hadn't been on before. It turned out to be one of the best trails I've ridden to date. Good times were had by all. Back in town we went our seperate ways, then met up to walk Chester. Saturday's walk was also nice, despite our legs being a bit weary. That evening we had a supreme pizza made at Winco's Leonardi's and watched Alien 2, which was shitty but not without its entertainment value.

Friday, the first day of my three day weekend, I found myself at River City Bagel, reclining on a leather couch, with a vanilla latte in one hand and the Davinci Code in the other. Later I went home intending to clean house and plan the evening, but because the weather was so nice, I ended up going on a very enjoyable road ride with Eric. We headed out Hill Road, up Seamans Gulch, down to Hidden Springs, turned around at a bridge that was under construction, back up and over Seaman's Gulch, to the Cemetary, up n' down the Vet's hill, and back home on Hill Road. We stopped off at Subway for sandwiches and cookies. I was near bonking as the only thing I had eaten up until 3pm was some toast. After cleaning up a bit, I readied myself for another bike ride with Fern, this time on mountain bikes. Fern, however, had dog-walking duties to attend to, so I met up with her n' Chester along a trail and accompanied her back to Share's house, where we chatted as she consumed a food item. Given the hour and Fern's lack of sleep the night before, we opted to not go for a bike ride and instead hang out at my apartment for a bit.

Thursday, I got off work fairly late and headed out for a bike ride of my own. As always, I enjoyed hammering up the mini-mesa, past the archery range, up the new switchback trail, to Bucks, up Shains, down Shains, and back home the way I came. I arrived home just as it became dark. With little time left in the evening, I called Fern and suggested we cancel any plans for a get together.

I apologize for the "just the facts" style of this blog, but I'm in a hurry as I really should be in bed right now.

2006-04-11T21:16:00.000-07:00

It was a beautiful day today. Right, there was that one torrential downpour from 5 to 6pm, about the time Fern and I were supposed to be tearing up the trails on our mountain bikes. Once again, rain foiled our plans. Its now settled: 2006 will be remembered as the springless year. I just hope summer and autumn make a showing before it starts snowing again.

Fern and I made the best of the situation and spent the majority of the evening at Barnes n' Nobles. A pleasant time for sure, just not quite as thrilling as catching air down Central Ridge.

Needless to say, I'm ready for a good time. Unfortunately, my idea of a good time so often involves outdoor activities, which makes me a tad dependent upon the current temperature and precipitation. Right.

This afternoon, I created an entirely new blog called "Reconstruction of Disbelief". The purpose of this blog is to spare friends and family the pain of having to read through all of the material I intend to write as part of the research and analysis of religious belief/disbelief and philosophy of morality which I'm just beginning.

Other notes on the day: I finished reading "An Essay on Morals" by Phylip Wylie. At Barnes n' Nobles, I bought the Black Eyed Peas "Monkey Business" and Kanye West "Late Registration"-the only two rap/hip hop albums I've purchased since 1993, when I acquired the Tresspass soundtrack.

2006-04-10T21:46:00.000-07:00

Its been a tough two-day work week. On my Monday, the register received over $13,000. I sold several bikes and had little time to do anything but sell bikes. Today, during my Friday, we sold almost $10,000 worth of merchandise, including 5 bikes sold by yours truly. Once again, I had little time to do much besides sell bikes.

You know, if there are food items easier and quicker to eat than corn dogs, I don't know what they are. I mean, a hot dog on a stick covered in cornmeal-its hand-held, pre-cooked, and bite-sized! Still, I didn't have time today to relish my lunch, it was that busy. My Monday (Sunday) was an 8 hour day and my Friday (Monday) lasted over 10 hours. So I'm a bit pooped.

The Paris Roubaix was raced yesterday in France and Belgium. Its an outrageously exciting 7 hour race with crashes galore, shows of brute force, and demonstrations of the mind's victory over pain; and a race that could only be viewed by those with access to televisions tuned to the Outdoor Life Network. OLN can only be had if one owns a Direct TV satellite. Needless to say, I hate Cable One for dropping OLN several years ago, and I hate the fact that I can't sit at home and watch all of the great spring classics that are shown on Sundays. I just couldn't miss the Paris Roubaix if I could help it, so immediately after work, I rushed down to Bitter Creek Pub and Grill and asked the bartender if she could please switch channels to OLN. Dave Gettle and I pulled up a seat and watched the last half hour of the race. I'm glad I did, because the craziest thing happened during the race, just 10 kilometers from the finish. The lone leader made it across some railroad tracks just before the railroad lights started blinking red and the gates went down. Three chasers, just 30 seconds behind the leader, blew around the gates; but moments later when Tom Boonen's group came upon the gates, the officials stopped his group as the train zoomed past. Boonen and his compatriots just stood there shaking their heads, knowing that the race was lost for them. After about 15 seconds, the train had passed and they were able to get going again.

For those who aren't cycling fans, let me assure you that this was a surreal moment; to see Tom Boonen, the defending champion of the Paris Roubaix and the current World Champion coming to a complete stop during the most intense, all-out, no holds barred period of the race, and standing there looking at the birds fly by, as a train passed in front of him. Strange moment indeed.

Tonight, like I've mentioned, I was pooped after being on my feet for almost 11 hours. So I called Fern and asked her to come by the house, since I was too exhausted to escape it myself. She came over and we chatted a bit. It was quite nice. Yesterday night it was much the same. I'm looking forward to my Saturday (Tuesday). I hope the weather will be conducive to bicycle riding. Night.

Satisfied in the End

2006-04-08T19:16:00.000-07:00

I think I just experienced the joy of a Boise spring evening for the first time this year. About 10 minutes ago, I left Thomas Hammer and rode my bike down Bannock towards home. I headed east while the sun began to set behind me. Despite the time approaching 8pm; the sunlight that fell on Lucky Peak, St. Lukes, and the tops of trees around me was a bright and cheery orange, and the air that still held warmth was filled with the scent of fresh blossoms.

As abrupt as it may seem, these observations are the perfect segway into a quick discussion on the non-religious life, which is an ideal I hope to fully develop over the years.

One of the biggest challenges one faces when trying to imagine a happy, content life free of religious belief is determining how to deal with fear of death. An idea which might serve as an alternative to a belief in an afterlife as a means of preventing fear of death from paralyzing us in old age is the "satisfied" life. Indeed, while I haven't quite pinned this concept down, it has been a guiding principle for me for years now. It approaches common sense-something that most people can agree upon, and something that transcends religious belief. In short, the ideal is that through careful and deliberate living, through the nurturing and cultivation of joys and pleasure, we fill ourselves with greater and greater contentment, and anticipate an end of our life during which we are filled with satisfaction from that which we have experienced. The analogy I've used is the feeling you have after great sex, or an amazing meal, or a thoroughly entertaining movie-or all three. You've experienced the greatest feelings or sensations that you are capable of experiencing, and for a brief moment you feel as though you could die happy. Of course, there's something lame about a young person being completely satisfied. We associate youthfullness with an inherent dissatisfaction that is both charming and exciting. Great artists are never fully satisfied, right? Well, if they were smart, they would be when they're on their death bed. I think that it is necessary for us to live as though satisfaction is attainable, but only after seeking it in small measure, in moments, year after year, through new experience after new experience. If we can be confident that some dissatisfaction or jadedness or obsession will result in our accomplishing great things-things that we're sure will equal great satisfaction-then we shouldn't be too quick to rid ourselves of those feelings.
Of course, fear of death is complicated, and probalby something impossible to completely overcome. Still, someone on their death bed who has fond memories of their life and who has told themselves repeatedly that there will be a point when they are ready to go, will most likely feel better than someone who has spent their whole life slaving away for an after life that may or may not be waiting for them.

Another idea I've had upon the same subject is more philisophical. It pertains to the way we think about life. On this earth there are billions of people. Although we've been told that we are unique individuals, it seems unreasonable to think that each of us is experiencing and thinking extremely unique things. In fact, humans are so much alike that the only thing preventing all human life from being one life is the physical seperation of our bodies. If one were to think of human life as something that is more connected mentally, emotionally, and physically (family/genetics-you are literally a combination of your parents. your cells are a continuation of their cells/dna); then we would think less of the seperateness we feel by being isolated from each other, body and mind. In fact there seems to me to be less support for a liberal, individualistic view of being, and more for an integrated sort. Clearly, the latter is not the view that informs my choices on how to live my life-atleast not with the day to day minutia.
Anyway, if one considers this view of life, then they might see that the end of an individual experience in the form of death is not something to fear all that much, because other individual experiences continue, and one can imagine a simple shift in consciousness from our being to another being-not literally, exactly, but nearly so. A body may die, but pleasure, hope, anticipation, feeling, love, etc, remain just a psychic jump away. Our ego may die, our shallow self perception may die, but we basically live on in everyone else-who happen to be 99.999% just like us. In short, we need to get over ourselves at some point. I'm sure having children and grandchildren helps with this exercise. Personally, I suspect that I'm capable of relating to others enough-to seeing them like I'm seeing myself-to help dull the sharp fear of death, if that makes any sense. ...anyway, I can't die now because I'm starving...gotta go.

Oh, and the way this all relates to my bike ride: I felt a sort of joy or contentment that was conducive to the same type of satisfaction one would want to feel at the end of life. That's all.

Cleanliness is next to a man-made concept

2006-04-07T12:09:00.000-07:00

Oh, I'm telling you now, this apartment of mine is going to be so clean, so pristine, that those who enter will think that they have just walked into Kal-el's Crystal Fortress of Solitude or the Celestial Room of a Mormon temple. But no, Superman's father will not begin telling them of their higher purpose on this planet, nor will they be looking forward to an eternity spent with their white bread family. Instead, when the veil is lifted, they will find my apartment completely clean and purged of all foreign and extraneous elements. My Dell computer will shimmer in the light of my Target floor lamp while the visitor sips a glass of savignon, reclines on my italian leather, and drifts off to paradise listening to the melodies of Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 6. The living room will be literally buzzing with a calming energy, such will be the power of chi in my apartment.

Yeah, so I've got this complex that makes me unable to achieve anything creatively if my apartment is not perfectly clean. I have two options in dealing with the complex. For one, I could start smoking weed and just chill, letting my apartment go, letting it become an even bigger mess than it's been in the past; and just create, just do, among the piles of disorderly shit and decay. Maybe I'd risk getting a mustard stain or something on a masterpiece, but atleast I'd be producing one. Otherwise, I could become a cleaning nazi-or ninja, if you will-and make the apartment as pristine as alpine snow. And, of course, I would have to stop doing everything I do that makes my apartment messy, and start being more disciplined in keeping it clean.

I've opted for the latter, and have just taken a break in my cleaning to let everyone know this.
Yes, its going to happen. Mark my words.

2006-04-06T22:37:00.000-07:00

I knew I was going to have a hard time coming home and putting myself straight to bed. There's something about the internet-and having a blog-that grants me a little extra energy at the end of the day, even if I happened to be dead tired just minutes before.

Fern and I spent a couple of hours galivanting around downtown tonight in celebration of First Thursday and Josh's Friday. We walked through galaries of fine art and shops of fine wares in a desperate search for free wine and crackers with cheese dip. The highlights of the night included touring a new high-end clothing store and sipping exciting beverages at Boise's most aesthetically pleasing Sushi restaurant, the recently opened Koi on 8th street.

Hmm, I thought I might write a little in defense of my initial negative feelings towards religion, but now that I think of it, I know I've done so already in previous blogs. It would be best to attempt some sort of official justification for my project by putting together all of my reasoning in some concise, easy to read format, and that will take a little more time than I have right now. So, goodnight.

The Project

2006-04-05T21:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I once again mentioned an intellectual project that I intend to take up with greater energy in the coming days and weeks. My aim is to begin tackling the problem of our society's dependence upon faith and religious dogma as authoritative sources on living moral and full lives. The project I hope to commence today, and continue throughout my life, will first and foremost involve the study of the origions of religion, the nature of faith (individual and societal), the arguments for and against religious faith, the philosophy surrounding ethics and morality, and the science of human happiness-if one can be found. Integral to my studies will be an analysis and critique of the logic-or lack of logic-in all the material I cover (or at least as much of the material as I can deconstruct without losing patience). This methodology will be the catalyst for whatever intellectual evolution I experience. If after a few years of in depth study, analysis, and logical evolution, I still hold my present views regarding religion's negative affects on the human condition; then I'll attempt to "enlighten" others about religion, faith, and a life without them both by whatever means I determine to be effective.

Kooky, huh? As crazy as my project seems, philosophers have tried to reconcile faith and science for ages. My passion for reform in this area is far from out of the ordinary. My thoughts are definately far from original. However, I'd say that my goal is less to reconcile faith and science, but to help push one out of our consciousness (faith) so that the other (science, reason) can finally grant a good system of morals the solid foundation its always lacked, and our lives can become more full and happy by living smarter, for the moment, for ourselves. The evil I want to see diminished is not moral axioms like "do unto others as you would have done to you"; but blinding, dividing, deligitamizing religiousity associated with such beautiful moral sentiments. I too would like to see an "end of faith".

To prove I'm not off my rocker, that others feel the same way I do, I want to share two quotes that I personally find very powerful and moving. The first is from "An Essay on Morals" by Philip Wylie:

"Ideas of God have unquestionably inspired men to noble deed and filled some few with conscience. Perchance these would have been generous and possible, anyway. But it is certain that up until this very day, God has been man's main excuse for failure. God is his moral alibi. And whether he is born a blank tablet or whether his impulses are stronger than all the wisdom he may get on earth, he cannot discover, while he serves in piety, his own imagination. For to the extent a man believes, he cannot seek; and so long as he prays, he is not trying his own best. The dignity which is his as an animal, and the genuine humility which has kept all other species honest, can no more belong to a worshiper of God than to Hitler, for God is an idol, man's own image, and human reverence is the fatuous awe of the ape with the mirror. Promises of Heaven, alone, keep men enduring their hellish earth-of Milk and Honey, of Immortal Peace, of German Supremacy, or World Workers owning the World, and Thirty Dollars every Thursday."

Ok, you've got to exuse Mr Wylie for his pomp-he's obviously really into himself-but the book was written in 1947, and pomp was totally in then. Anyway, the words of Sam Harris do a better job of capturing the spirit of the topic:

"We do not know what awaits each of us after death, but we know that we will die. Clearly, it must be possible to live ethically-with a genuine concern for the happiness of other sentient beings-without presuming to know things about which we are patently ignorant. Consider it: every person you have ever met, every person you will pass in the street today, is going to die. Living long enough, each will suffer the loss of his friends and family. All are going to lose everything they love in this world. Why would one want to be anything but kind to them in the meantime?
We are bound to one another. The fact that our ethical intuitions must, in some way, supervene upon our biology does not make ethical truths reducible to biological ones. We are the final judges of what is good, just as we remain the final judges of what is logical. And on neither front has our conversation with one another reached an end. There need be no scheme of rewards and punishments transcending this life to justify our moral intuitions or to render them effective in guiding our behavior in the world. The only angels we need invoke are those of our better nature: reason, honesty, love. The only demons we must fear are those that lurk inside every human mind: ignorance, hatred, greed, and faith, which is surely the devil's masterpiece.
Man is manifestly not the measure of all things. This universe is shot through with mystery. The very fact of its being, and of our own, is a mystery absolute, and the only miracle worthy of the name. The consciousness that animates us is itself central to this mystery and the ground for any experience we might wish to call "spiritual". No myths need be embraced for us to commune with the profundity of our circumstances. No personal God need be worshiped for us to live in awe at the beauty and immensity of creation. No tribal fictions need be rehearsed for us to realize, one fine day, that we do, in fact, love our neighbors, that our happiness is inextricable from their own, and that our interdependence demands that people everywhere be given the opportunity to flourish."

I'd quote the whole book if I could-I definately encourage anyone and everyone to read "The end of Faith", but especially if you're a person of faith, otherwise its a bit like preaching to the choir.

I'm sure there's a lot I could edit in this blog, but its bedtime...

2006-04-04T21:18:00.000-07:00

What a frightening journey! Walking home from the Flying M tonight I had to step carefully over and around hundreds of slimy worms who apparantly, like myself, felt that it was a good evening to get out. For most of the trip home, surrounding lights illuminated the sidewalk just enough so that I was able to avoid slipping on slimy worm carcasses. However, as I passed the cemetery on Warm Springs Avenue (the little guys were especially fat there), street lights no longer lit my path. I could only cringe as some steps felt just a bit softer than others. Of course, I wasn't really traumatized by the experience. I found the great gathering of worms rather interesting. I now have an intimate understanding of why people call earth worms "night crawlers". Those suckers can boogy, especially when lubricated by a days worth of rain. Besides the liveliness of the creatures, I found an interest in keeping an eye out for the biggest worm. By my measure, the longest was about a foot from end to end; which is long, but still small compared to the two footers I occasionally came across as a boy digging in Kansas dirt.

If you've visited my blog lately, you know I've been preoccupied with books and the reading thereof. See, I've recently changed my approach to philosophy. I used to take pride in the thought that my philosophical and moral constructs came about with little influence from formal education or willful absorption of classical works on the topics of philosophy, psychology, sociology, and political science. In college, I did take a class or two in which I gained a sound understanding of greek philosophy as well as common schools of thought, like conservatism, liberalism, and their various derivatives. But my understanding of the humanities (in my meaning, subjects which specifically address the human condition) is really an elementary understanding, since even in college I feel that classes were primarily elementary, not in-depth. At any rate, I've recently opted to really delve into the subjects that, for whatever reason, I find the most fascinating. Whereas before, I didn't have the freedom and time required to filter out that which I cared little for, now I'm reading books that address my favorite philisophical and moral topics directly. Finally, I'm glad that my immersion in the thoughts of others is coming after a significant period of independent, critical thinking. While I know that original thought is impossible, I hope that by always challenging the most basic assumptions of history's best known philosphers, my thoughts will remain progressive and I'll avoid getting carried away with any one school.

Yes, I'm happy to be reading material that will one day enable me to adeptly discuss (and write about) faith, religion, morality, way of life, and happiness with others; but lately I've been feeling as though I'm reading a lot and producing not enough. What I want to do is not just enjoy what I'm reading and learn something in the process, but record the evolution of my thoughts regarding my chosen subjects in a systematic way. I don't want to read something and think "well that's interesting" and then forget about it-I want to scrutinize the author's conclusions in order to derive strong truths and discard obvious mistakes. Plus, when an author's words spark an idea in my mind, I'd like to record the idea. Another constructive step I might take is to explain what, if anything, I hope to someday accomplish through this particular hobby/study. I have a general idea of what that is, but for now I'll say that in the short term, my primary motivation for opening, say, an "Essay on Morals" written over 60 years ago, is to stimulate my mind-just as I eat sushi to stimulate my taste buds. The word "stimulation", by the way, does well to represent the higher sort of living that we all hope to sustain throughout life. Who doesn't want to be perpetually stimulated, either physically or mentally?

Regarding my intellectual project on religion and morality, getting down to business, so to speak, is what I'm feeling very compelled to do. It'll have to wait another day or two, as the time is currently a minute to midnight and tomorrow's the start of my work week. My two day work week, that is. Oh, life is hard!

2006-03-28T20:42:00.000-08:00

I've got this thing on the side of my forehead, like a pimple. I've never had a pimple there before. Strange. Also strange, I bit my lower lip yesterday while eating dinner, and I've already bit it twice tonight. Since I had to hold my lip back to prevent myself from biting it again, I couldn't truly relish my Carl's Junior Famous Star burger. I feel that in terms of suckiness, biting one's own cheek, tongue, or lip is akin to jamming your toe, hitting your funny bone, or knocking your shin-that is, all of these things suck a hella lot, even when you don't have scrumptious fast food you're trying to eat.

I now have a cute lil' pocket dictionary taking up 3x5 inches of desk space as opposed to a fatty dictionary hogging like 8X11 massive inches. I'm very pleased with my mini dictionary, even if the definition of the first word I looked up was so consice it was only one word. [side note: That's weird. I just picked up my pocket dictionary and attempted to let it fall open naturally in the hope that it would open to the page that held the first word I looked up. See, I forgot the word and really wanted to be able to share it with you. Instead of revealing the page and word I had previously looked up, the dictionary fell open to a page with the word "josh" and its definition "tease or joke". Its the first word I saw. And what's really weird is...that's my name! I think my dictionary is trying to talk to me! How awesome. This has never happened to me before. I think my dictionary likes me. Oh, and another weird thing is that the definition of the word "josh" is actually what I'm doing right now. What are the odds?]

At work today I had a customer walk in and ask for help ordering a triple. For the first few minutes of our interaction I thought he was talking about a 3-ringed crankset. Then I realized that he was talking about a bicycle made for three people. The customer, John, was hoping to take trip around Canada and the U.S. with his two hyperactive boys. John needed help determining which size of Triplet he and his kids needed. So, I spent over an hour measuring John and his kids, talking to Santana (the company that makes the Triplet), analyzing data and sketches, and discussing exactly how the whole thing was going to work for his 5 and 7 year old boys. In the end, we decided on a custom frame that was medium sized in the front and small in the back-a size that, due to our analysis, was smaller than what the folks at Santana had originally recommended to John over the phone. First thing tomorrow morning I will place an order for the $6000 Santana Triplet. Apparantly, I handled the pressure of such a complicated project well, because Randy felt compelled to tell me good job, and he did so.

By the way, I hate the words "went" and "got". More and more, I find myself carefully selecting different words when I'm tempted to use those.

I rode my bike up Rocky Canyon Road this evening in spite of possible rain showers and a darkening sky. I felt good. I made a point to sit as much as possible and save my standing power for the last couple miles of much steeper terrain. When I reached that stretch, I couldn't really stand up without loosing traction on wet, loose gravel. In the last mile I had to ride over snow before dismounting and hiking a hundred meters to the top. On my way down I passed a Jeep that was spinning out in an attempt to climb what I had just cleared on my bike.

Bedtime. I'd like to get up tomorrow early enough to spend a solid hour reading at the Flying M before I have to head to work. Goodnight.

2006-03-27T21:03:00.000-08:00

The weather during my night ride last Thursday was ok but for the 30mph winds that threatened to blow me off the trail. The next day, the temperature dropped 10-20 degrees, making it feel like February again. On Saturday I had to work. We got quite a show in the afternoon, as a storm instantly filled our parking lot with rain and hail. This inclement weather really made me grumpy. At least there was something to gripe about over the weekend. When I checked the forcast for the week I saw that temperatures were to remain low, in the thirtees and low fourtees. So it goes without saying that when I stepped outside of the shop this afternoon into a beautiful warm day, I was pleasantly surprised. I decided then and there that I would be riding after work. Later, I received a message from Fern which informed me that she had concluded the same thing. Sandy allowed me to leave ten minutes early so that I could rush home, change, meet Fern, and hit the trails while there was still adequate daylight to see by. Fern and I followed a course which included two moderate climbs and one challenging climb, as well as three especially fun descents of the thrill-factors 5, 7, and 9 (on a 1-10 scale). We made it back to town just as it became too dark to ride without a light. I then stopped by the Co-op and picked up some pasta sauce and wine. I took these goods home, cleaned up, ate dinner, and accompanied Fern to the Flying M where I read The End of Faith and got angry at Christians, and Fern began knitting herself a striped hat.

Night Riding

2006-03-23T20:46:00.000-08:00

You'd be surprised at how little light you need to mountain bike at night in the Boise front. As the sun sets and the earth's shadow is cast over everything in front of you, the trail remains a crisp light grey. Even when all that's left of the day is a small patch of blue above the western horizon, you don't loose sight of the trail, as it has a way of gathering refracted city light and what is left of the daylight, and reflecting it back to your eyes. This happens because the trail is not dirt, but a yellowish sand that can vary in consistency from Sahara fine to granite rubble.

Its a pleasant sound your tires make on this surface-sometimes fuzzy, other times crunchy. Either way, its soothing, like white noise, and could easily put you to sleep if it weren't for the fact that all of your senses are employed in the navigation of your bike. This focus as well as the crisp cool air not only keep you attentive, but make you feel outrageously alive . Eventually, of course, you switch on your head lamp when all becomes several shades closer to black. The starkest contrast resides between the hills and the sky. Your immediate surroundings become one large silhouette against a night sky infused with the oranges, whites, and yellows of city lights. Sometimes the clouds above your head appear to be glowing red hot. Other times, when the city is hidden behind a hill, you might be fooled for a moment into thinking that a great fire raged in the valley. But most of the time, you are simply filled with awe at the sight of the city lights. This is especially true when, after riding away from town for the first half of the ride, you finally turn around and behold the entire valley, twinkling beneath you like a galaxy, almost close enough to touch. The lights of the city really do twinkle and shimmer as the air between civilization and you rises in spirals and waves. Looking down on the scene, its hard to imagine driving through traffic near the mall or dancing at the Balcony. In fact, at that moment its kind of hard imagining doing anything anywhere other than what it is your actually doing at the place you're actually doing it. I think they call this sensation, "living in the moment".

Night riding can be a thrilling experience, literally. Sounds, shapes, movement, and even your own thoughts can really creap you out. Sagebrush can look like anything-a person, a wolf, a cow, whatever. In the dark, they are big hulking dark objects that look especially menacing silhouetted against the night sky. Trail markers, with their reflective tape, can briefly resemble the eyes of a beast starring back at you. Sometimes what you see is very much alive. A couple of days ago, my route was flanked by a herd of deer. On the same ride, I startled an extremely large bird of prey; which, when it lept into the air, was so close to me that I felt a rush of wind from its enormous wings. There are also silly little birds that like to sit in the middle of the trail at night and burst into the air with a trumpet of inappropriately loud tweets. As startling as these experiences can be, its what you don't see that causes the skin on your neck to prickle. It was outrageously windy tonight, so of course there were a lot of sounds that turned my head. For example, a small tree creaked like an old wagon wheel when I rode by. The wind through the powerlines overhead produced the most haunting persistent howl. Various sacks, flags, and brush flapped at my heels.

More later...?

2006-03-21T21:24:00.000-08:00

When I was 18 I worked at Sirloin Stockade in Independence, Kansas. I was a line cook responsible for tasks like dumping loads of chicken in the fryer for all-you-can-eat-chicken Sundays, calling out orders to the "broiler", preparing plates, making salads, and filtering the grease from the fryers at the end of the day. In addition, all of the cooks were very much concerned with keeping the restaurant well supplied with baked potatoes; because if we didn't, our manager Marty, who was pushing 6'5" and 300 pounds, would come storming into the kitchen all red faced and blustery screaming that a steak house NEVER runs out of baked potatoes. NEVER!
However unwarranted this long intro might be, I think it does a fair job of representing my feelings on this subject:
I civilized human being NEVER runs out of clean underwear. NEVER!
There are no excuses good enough to cool my indignation. The reasons for why this morning I had to pick what I thought to be the cleanest pair of underwear among those I've already worn are virtually inconceivable. Even now, I'm wearing no underwear at all. I admit it. I am guilty of either not doing my laundry enough or not buying enough underwear in the first place. Either way, I'm guilty. I deserve to be reprimanded severly. (And I call myself a modern man)

That said, my day was pretty nice. Work wasn't much. There was some retrieving bikes here, stocking things there, smiling at people-you know, the usual stuff. Fern and I were going to see a movie tonight but thought better of it. Instead, we did our own things, exercise-wise. I jumped on my mountain bike as soon as I got home and headed out to seize as much daylight as I could before I was forced to turn on my lights. I wanted to work on my overall biking fitness-increase power, improve cardio-so I rode up 8th street pushing a moderate to hard gear, maintaining a sustainable tempo. After about 7 miles or so, my toes had become pretty numb, and my fingertips weren't much better. So I headed back down in the dark, using the meager light from my handlebar mounted LEDs to warn me of the mountain bike-swallowing ruts that crossed my path. On the way, I navigated Trail Four to Freeway and down to Reserve. At home I consumed a plate of seasoned pasta for the third night in a row. Then I rode to the M and chatted with Fern for a while. We covered many topics, one being the pros and cons of breast milk. Now I'm home and am ready for bed.

2006-03-20T21:47:00.000-08:00

Do you ever feel uninspired? Of course you don't. Surely I'm the only one in the world who isn't brilliant all of the time. Yeah, anyway, I'm not feeling like the sharpest tack tonight, which is strange, because usually I temporarily become a fckn genius after engaging in the activity I engaged in tonight. Who knows what's going on? I suspect I'm experiencing a hormone-induced mini-funk (I think that's the medical term). Or it could be the South Park eminating from the telli over my shoulders-you know, the hypnotic effects of a rather low-brow production. Whateva. I reckon I'll bury myself in more enlightening material tomorrow morning at the Flying M.

The weekend was good to me. Things warmed up just enough to make the three bike rides I went on bareable. On Friday, I did Reserve-Bucks-Shanes trail by myself. Saturday, Fern and I rode the tandem several miles out the greenbelt and back. Sunday, She and I cruised up Reserve-Central Ridge-Reserve-Freeway-half of Sidewinder-and back down Your Mom. Saturday morning and Sunday evening, we enjoyed time at the M and Barnes n' Nobles. Sunday morning we had breakfast at Jim's Cafe. Saturday we did sushi for dinner at Zuto's. I haven't included all the fun I had over Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Fern, wanna add anything? -Oh yes, on Saturday we had successful shopping experiences primarily at Savors, but also at the Mall.

2006-03-17T21:54:00.000-08:00

Many things happened today that might just ensure I remember it years from now. First, I grabbed my Barnes n' Nobles-in-a-bag and made my way to a coffee shop to do some reading. The Flying M was packed so I settled for Java a block away. There, I read more of The End of Faith, and then spent some time reading An Essay on Morals by Philip Wylie. An Essay on Morals was printend in 1947. The author believes that morality should be tied to instinct. He pays special attention to instinct, time, the ego, individualism, the conscious, the subconscious, among other ideas. Incidentally, he thinks religion is ridiculous. The book is fun to read in that the author tends to go off on these tangents that sound very much like poetry or a sermon.
Yeah, so I read for a little over an hour, finished my mocha, and left Java in order to find a new place where I could get a new tasty beverage and read a little longer. First, I stopped in at The Lux, a used clothing store that features more quality, stylish apparel, and less of the common thrift store crap. I was surprised to find a couple things a really liked. One was a green t-shirt with graphics on the front consisting of a cruise ship in the distance, a sexy couple lounging on the beach, palm trees, and the word "California" splayed across the upper chest. Very 80s. The second thing I ended up buying was a black button up long sleeve shirt embroidered with two roses below the somewhat pointy collars. The shirt actually seems kind of cliche, in a fashion sense-like something Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20 would wear in a video-or like just about any pop artist would wear in a video, including modern country "artists". Nevertheless, it is a cool shirt, and I'm glad I bought it.
From the Lux I stopped in for some lunch at Subway. I had a 6" tuna sub with swiss, toasted. I scarfed that down and walked next door to River City Bagel and bought myself a Irish Creme Latte (to celebrate St. Patrich's day) and read another book I had in my bag called Introducing Marxism. The book is really neat. It is one in a series of "Introducing..." books which all utilize fun, cartoon/comic-like illustrations to provide the reader a visual aid in order to understand the oft-complex topics of focus. I find that the illustrations help a lot, and the book itself is exactly what I need to read a long with the more in-depth The Philosophy of Marxism in order to really retain the knowledge I'm being exposed to.
Next, I walked a few blocks over to Function, my favorite high-end clothing store, to have a look around. While there I had a talk with a guy named Andrew, someone who knows people I know, who hangs out at places I hang out, and who obviously shares my appreciation for stylish clothing. He also happens to be the brother of this guy Brian who I sold my 75 Plymouth Valiant to a couple months ago. A few weeks ago, vandals broke out the cars beautiful curved rear window, and tore off its antannea and windshield wipers. Andrew and I talked about how we'd love to get our hands on the fuckers who did that to such a cool car. I also had a long chat with the very pregnant salesperson about all things music, in a general, philisophical way.
I didn't buy anything. Then I went to my bank, Bank of America, cashed my check and attempted to close my account; but I couldn't due it as a transaction I had just made needed time to go through. So I made my way to Idaho Central Credit Union and opened up a checking and savings account. This is Fern's bank and she highly recommended it. My primary motive for changing banks was bitterness towards Bank of America for charging me a 29.99% interest rate on my Visa in the past. Also, the new bank has online banking and online bill pay which will make my life easier.
After setting up an account, I went to Georges and chatted with Tom for a while after letting him in on the fact that I was there to talk to Mike about getting a raise. When Mike was available, we talked in the office for just a short time, I asked him for a raise, and he said he would talk to Tom, but he responded so positively that I know the raise is a sure thing. So, hopefully, I'll get the 10% raise that I asked for, which equates to around $2000 more dollars in my pocket in a year.
I left Georges and headed home. There I did the dishes and worked out a bit. Fern called and said that she made arrangements to hang out with Devlyn for a while, so I went on a mountain bike ride. The weather was nice-just a little chilly, windy, and grey, but not bad overall.
At home I cleaned up and waited for Fern to pick me up so we could go get dinner. After going to Ichibon, a Japanese Steakhouse, and seeing that all non-sushi menu items were like $18 dollars, we fled and went to Red Robin. There I had a Mushroom and Swiss Turkey Burger that was absolutely amazing. Fern had a BBQ version of a Turkey Burger.
Finally, after making a trip out to Edwards for the opening night of V is for Vandetta, and after realizing that we'd have to wait a whole hour to catch the next showing, we went to the two dollar theater on Overland and watched Hoodwinked, a funny and cute animated film (aren't they all) about Little Red Riding Hood, her Extreme Sports Grammy, a singing goat, a hyped up squirrel, a big-dumb yoddeling actor, a funny looking frog PI, a investigative journalist wolf, a cute furry evil bunny rabbit played by Andy Dick-among others. The movie was hilarious and completely worth the two dollars.

Marxism as I know it

2006-03-17T09:13:00.000-08:00

What have I learned about Marxism so far? (consider this a review for my own sake, to see if I can remember what I read and present it in a concise way)

First of all, the philosophy of Marxism employs the dialect of Hegel but "turns it on its head." This is probably the trickiest part to understand. Hegel stated that reality is made up of ideas of things which are only really true when seen as integral parts of a process. Reality is a process of interrelated ideas which continue to change and progress towards something Hegel called the "absolute ideal." This "changing" and "progressing" is a phenomenon called "dialectic". Hegel's dialectic states that every idea is not simply that idea alone. Inherent or implicit in every idea or supposed truth is the exact opposite of that idea, or as Hegel called it, its antithesis. Every idea has this built in counter logic, which creates a conflict or "vitalizing principle" which causes an idea to evolve towards greater and greater truth. Ultimately, in principle, the end point of this steady march towards greater and greater truth is finally reality, or the "absolute ideal." The change that occurs when the thesis-or original idea-interacts with its inherent antithesis-its exact opposite-results in the new truer idea called the synthesis.

I find it somewhat difficult to provide an example of this, although dialectic is supposed to apply to any idea or thing. I'm am unclear if Hegel's dialectic applies to both subjective and objective ideas equally. Hegel's dialectic is easiest to understand when one thinks of advancements in human understanding through science. We used to think the earth was flat. Hegel says that because the statement "the earth is flat" is inseperable from its antithesis "the earth is not flat", that the idea, like all ideas, could never remain static, and that the vitalizing principle of the dialectic resulted in a more true discovery-the earth is round. For people like me who have only just been introduced to Hegel, its difficult to see how the dialectic is not faulty, but I'll give it a chance and keep reading.

Anyway, Marx was turned off by Hegel's view of reality. Marx thought that reality and truth were things that were grounded in material things, not something called the "absolute ideal" that exists so far off towards infinity that we can't reasonably hope to experience it. Marx thought "the absolute ideal" earily sounded like another word for God or supreme power, an ultimately unknowable thing. Marx believed that we can know the true nature of things. Indeed, everything our senses bring to our consciousness is absolute truth, not even a mere representation of the truth. Marx did not seperate what we experience through our senses as either true or false; instead, he said that there is only experienced reality or the unknown. For example, we may not be able to see or touch the internal makeup of a stone, but from that which we do see, we are able to see is true nature nonetheless.

Marx was greatly influenced by Hegel's dialectic but he had a problem with what he considered Hegel's "mysticism" or his refusal to see reality as not just idea but material as well. Marx still thought that Hegel's dialectic held true, for the most part. But Marx chose to modify-or "turn it on its head" so that it would apply to his own materialistic view of reality. Marx said that the dialectic was the force behind all change in nature. In his time he observed that there were always forces working in opposition to each other. For example, atoms are made up of protons and electrons. The ocean pushes against land and land holds back the ocean. The "exploiting" class-the group of people who own property and act to maintain the current mode of production (including forming a state)-is in opposition with the "exploited class", or those who are denied freedoms and are oppressed due to their lack of control over the mode of production.

I could produce a bit more on Marx, but I'm starting to recite some of the stuff I'm just beginning to read about and I don't have the best feel for it yet, so I won't go on much more.

Anyway, I was more excited when I was reading about the philosophy at the heart of Marxism. I'm having big problems with the aspect of Marxism I'm currently reading about-history and the state. Marx thought that everything in history and all that makes up society can be explained by a society's mode of production. Mode of production is not a simple thing. The term includes quite a lot, but it really seems as though Marx oversimplified things in a grotesque manner when he singled out the ownership of private property as being a defining factor in one particular mode of production, as if there are countless ways items can be produced and societies maintained which don't include private property in the formula. Of course, communism took this ignorant view of private property, adopted Marx's ideas, and basically did away with private property in practice. (atleast as far as I know).

That's all for now. Time for a bowl-of cereal that is.

Anti-Religion

2006-03-15T21:08:00.000-08:00

Its 10:07pm. Often, you'll find me playing a game or two of spider solitaire at this time of night. Since that's not a possibility anymore, I find myself using my brain instead, writing this here blog. And that's awesome.
So I'm reading a book I bought a few days ago entitled "The End of Faith." On the back cover of the book, Johann Hari of The Independent magazine provides a quote. He states, "Sam Harris launches a sustained nuclear assault...The End of Faith is a brave, pugilistic attempt to demolish the walls that currently insulate religious people from criticism...The End of Faith is badly needed." Upon reading that, and after skimming over the contents of the book, I got a little excited and I had to buy it, despite having no idea what "pugilistic" meant.
For years now I've been vehemently anti-religion. Of course, this shouldn't be confused with looking down on believers, because it would be silly to find fault with billions of people around the world who practice one religion or another. I was one of the believers when I was younger, and if circumstances had been slightly different, I would still be one. That said, I'm am so anti-religion its crazy. Religion has had it soooo easy for soooo long. If I could name something that has had the least amount of criticism in relation to the criticism it deserves, it would be religion in general or faith in particular. Religion has retarded society's intellectual and emotional progress; is responsible for war after war, and as a result, the death of millions; deprives believers of happier lives; acts as a cover and a tool for those who wish to wield power over society; condones and supports a subserviant/totalitarian hierarchical structure; increases conformity and hinders creativity; and speaks something akin to blasphemy when it calls humans and natural human behavior sinful, threatening us all with hell for being who we are. So, yeah, I'm not a fan of religion. Neither is Sam Harris, the author of The End of Faith; Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason. He really calls religion out and holds no punches when he writes things like:

"The idea...that religious faith is somehow a sacred human convention-distinguished, as it is, both by the extravagance of its claims and by the paucity of its evidence-is really too great a monstrosity to be appreciated in all its glory. Religious faith represents so uncompromising a misuse of the power of our minds that it forms a kind of perverse, cultural singularity-a vanishing point beyond which rational discourse proves impossible. When foisted upon each generation anew, it renders us incapable of realizing just how much of our world has been unnecessarily ceded to a dark and barbarous past."

Of course, Harris backs up his harsh criticism with facts and solid points. One demographic observation that I found entertaining was that "120 million (Americans who interpret the bible literally) place the big bang 2,500 years after the Babylonians and Sumerians learned to brew beer."

Maybe one of these days, the argument against religion won't be derided as evil or unfair or insensitive the exact moment it is made. Its funny, society has granted respect to something that 1) harms us in all the ways mentioned before, and 2) is backed by the least amount of reason, evidence, or internal consistency (the Bible). Anyway, I know what Christianity's answers would be to the challenges Sam and I pose, and at this point I'm just unwilling to pay the price of simply "having faith" or "feeling the spirit". Too often, those answers have led to tragedy for both society and individuals.

2006-03-14T21:36:00.000-08:00

Damn Spider Solitaire. Damn it to hell.
If you talk to me long enough on any given day, you're bound to hear me utter something along the lines of "man, I gotta start working out more," or "I wish I had more time to read," or "one of these days I'll get around to cleaning the apartment." I'm a hopeful sorta guy, you know, with dreams and shit. Its only a matter of a few years before I make all of my wildest dreams come true (yes, this includes reading more and cleaning my apartment). That is, unless Spider Solitaire doesn't consume me whole first.
Spider Solitaire is a curse. No. Its much, much worse. Spider Solitaire is the scourge of the Earth.
I, Josh Travis, swear that when I'm done typing this, I will remove Spider Solitaire from my computer. It will be a brave act or it will be the biggest mistake of my life. It all depends upon the sort of built in defense mechanism the Spider Solitaire program is armed with. If you find a pile of ashes on my chair, tell my mom that I love her and that now I am with grammy on the "other side". And for the love of Christ, do not attempt to finish the game on my computer screen.

Today I had pizza for lunch and pizza for dinner. Also for dinner, I had beers. I have not ridden my bike in weeks. I don't need a nurse to take my blood pressure or stick her finger up my butt to know that I could benefit from more intense physical activity. This physical activity I have in mind is going to happen really really soon dammit. I don't want any more excuses from Mother Nature. Things better warm up soon or there's going to be hell to pay. I'm serious. I'll start littering all over the place! If the Northern Hemisphere doesn't start getting its act together, I'm going to have to take things into my own hands. I don't want to start driving a 76 Cadillac Eldorado around to contribute more than my fair share of greenhouse gasses, but I'll do it if things don't get a little more pleasant around here. Fuck Hootie the Owl, Smokie the Bear, Shamoo the whale-the whole lot of em. I want to ride my bike!

2006-03-12T21:26:00.000-08:00

I'm so disappointed! Tonight, on the way home from Barnes n' Nobles, Jennifer told me about the drama that's been happening on Devlyn's site. A while back, Devlyn wrote a blog about her trip to Portland, and in doing so, she commented on how the opening act of a show she attended put her to sleep. The "artist" that she referred to googled his name and Devlyn's blog came up at the top of the page. He chose to post a comment in defense of himself by calling Devlyn a stupid girl and a white trash whore (or something like that). Several of Devlyn's friends responded, the musician responded back, and some sort of "debate" ensued (or at least the musician seemed to think that he was engaged in a debate-funny). My point for bringing this up: I'm disappointed I couldn't join the fray. That's all. Devlyn wisely chose to shut down the comment feature under the entry. I'm sure she'd prefer her blog not devolve into something like a Bill Oreilly interview session, regardless of how entertained I would be if it did.
Yeah, so I'm riding this big philosophy kick right now. I've been reading "The Philosophy of Marxism" as well as a book entitled "Introducing Hegel". I'm progressing through them both, learning a lot, and even enjoying the experience.
I've got more to say, but if I don't post this now, I'll be late for work. Later,

2006-03-09T21:04:00.000-08:00

Its my Friday and I'll party if I want to... And I don't-want to, that is. I've already eaten, drunk, and behaved merrily tonight, and so I'm through with all that. I'm now looking forward to crawling into bed. And just like I always have room for desert, I can always stay up a little longer to play at least two games of spider solitaire. I don't think writing a blog is like playing spider solitaire though. I'm very capable of pooping out in the middle of sentences, so I'd better get down to business.
Tonight, Jennifer and I had the great privilege of attending a dinner at the home of Devlyn. We enjoyed three delectible courses; blessed with a dizzing array of flavorful vegetable dishes, a well seasoned chicken breast with spicy sauce, and a delightfully tart tart-all prepared and presented lovingly by the lady of the house, our hostess, Devlyn. And of course, fine wine filled our melodious crystal throughout the evening. A high time was had by all those in attendance; which happened to be Devlyn, Alisha, Laura, Kelly, Sarah, Amy, Jennifer, and I.
Some highlights of the evening were: Making our wine glasses hum by running wet fingers around their crests. Making buccaneer hats out of our cotton napkins. Pouring milk out of hollow cow into my cup of coffee. Getting really excited when Fern declared that she could see a lady next door who didn't appear to have her clothes on. We eventually realized she wasn't naked, but not after plenty of amusement and gawking on our part. ...Oh, and being enthralled with Fern's story of the events leading up to the breakage of her faucet.
Its been a week and four days since I became sick. I'd say that I'm over it completely, but I still hack (cough) every now and then, and I think I'm capable of sleeping for however long I allow myself-so clearly I'm still recovering. Otherwise, I've been in a much better mood and my energy level is up, especially at work. Today I swept and mopped the floor and organized/cleaned the back storage area, in addition to helping customers. A winter storm hit Idaho a couple of days ago, so we have snow at very low elevations. Bogus celebrated receiving 100+ inches of snow. Fern and I will be snowboarding either tomorrow night or Saturday or both. I'm looking forward to it. I'm also hoping that I feel up to snuff, physically speaking, so that I can thoroughly enjoy myself.
For the record, a couple of nights ago, Fern and I walked into the north end and enjoyed some beverages at Lucky 13. I downed a Bloody Marry and Fern sipped a glass of wine. During the walk we talked about how we'd like to get back to having nights dedicated to working on creative projects (drawing, writing, music, etc).
Yesterday evening Fern visited with Amy while I was at home cleaning the bejeesus out of everything, in addition to doing my laundry.

2006-03-07T22:09:00.000-08:00

You'd think that during a time when Americans can't get enough reality television, you'd see more people visiting my blog. You'd think, but you'd be wrong. I'm lucky if more than 4 different people check up on me a day. Hell, I could've been run over by a car a week ago as far as all my non-visitors know. I guess my life isn't exciting enough. Not prime time MTV reality show exciting anyway. What do I need to do, start sleeping with everyone I live with (just kidding. that's just wrong.)? Would it help if I was schizophrenic and a drug addict, or had multipersonality disorder and beat my girlfriend? Whatever. I just have a hard time accepting other people's inability to accept my narcissistic and exhibitionist tendencies. I'm here for the coddling people. C'mon already, coddle me!
Maybe I'm being a little dramatic for kicks, but I think there's a sober point to be made regarding the lack of familial discussion on my blog. And it follows from the question: Am I the only person in my family who will ever ask sensitive, personal, religious, psychological, or philisophical questions throughout his/her entire life? I'm not saying that anything I've ever said is better than shit on a stick, I'm just saying that life is short, and my family seems to have missed the opportunity to really connect intimately/intellectually to spread a little wisdom and learn from one another. That said, I'm pretty much as bad as everyone else when it comes to communication. I don't keep in touch with family like you'd expect a son or brother would.
What I wan't to draw out is that whereas my family seems-atleast from a distance-content knowing what they know about who they are, why they are who they are, what to do next, how to live their lives, how to relate to others, etc, etc; I readily admit that I don't feel secure in my answers to all of those issue. Also, I often feel enthused about taking those sorts of amateur philosophy questions on. I sometimes feel a mild urgency to cut the the crap, so to speak, and talk honestly. I guess I'm prone to seriousness when it comes to life, and the shortness thereoff. I watched a little Larry King tonight. The topic of discussion was the life of Dayna Reeves (the wife of Christopher Reeves) who died today from lung cancer. They showed a clip of Dayna saying something like, "Look, life isn't fair, and we need to stop expecting that it's going to be". I thought that was great because it was so honest. Life is so unfair (if you choose to think that way), especially when you think of what happens there at the end of it. Its funny, because I believe in a sort of unity of thought and feeling with others in the world, based on the fact that so many of us are born and live under such similar circumstance. For example, if you decide to jump off a bridge, there are going to be many others who decide to do the same based on the exact same feelings and reasons that compelled you to do so. If you don't decide to jump off a bridge, then that same number of people probably won't either. So its no surprise to me that these days I'm hearing sentiments about mortality that sound like echos of my own. For example, the running theme of the latest Death Cab for Cutie album is mortality. There's a song that goes, "Love of mine, someday you will die, but I will be close behind, and follow you into the dark...if heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied, and illumintate the 'no's on their vacancy signs, if there's no one beside you when your soul departs, I'll follow you into the dark." The romantic sentiment is stunning, of course, but its the sober acceptance of the unknown-the agnostic sentiment-that I find extraordinarily touching. Anyway, for some strange reason, my sharing of that sentiment is related to my desire to cut the crap and talk about this whole "life" thing a little bit. Is that so wrong?

2006-03-06T21:21:00.000-08:00

I've been a fan of negativity most of my life. I'll laugh if the response to "how ya doin' today" is something along the lines of "well, the hemmoride's actin up and the misses' cackle is gonna drive me off a bridge." Also, I think the word "fuckin" sounds great as an adjective. I particularly like music that makes me feel like my heart's being shattered into a million pieces. I don't think the fact that I find humor and pleasure in negativity makes me a negative person. On the contrary, finding good in the bad mean that I'm a very positive person, right? Ok, maybe it means I'm slightly twisted, but no less positive.
This is something for everyone to remember when they aren't in the brightest of moods, or when they just feel like bitching and moaning like I've done since I got sick a week ago. It doesn't mean that we're really negative people during those times. It just means we temporarily enjoy acting negative more than we do happy. Anyway, I guess I'm just reassuring myself that I'm still good ol' Josh, because its been over a week since I felt in high spirits, thanks to the flu.
Today I felt much better. Thankfully, work was not nearly as stressful as it was yesterday, and I was able to stock some things, order some things, and sell a couple things. After work I stopped by Winco to pick up items needed for a meatloaf recipe (speaking of meatloaf, Meatloaf the singersongwriter almost ruins meatloaf for me, because I think of his schweaty chubface singing "I would do anything for love" whenever I say the word "meatloaf". ...and meatloaf the food already borders on disgusting, especially if its not made just right. I'm sure Meatloaf the singersongwriter has cost the meatloaf industry billions of dollars.). Fern came over and we consumed a dinner of quality meatloaf and palmagrannen? potatoes while we watched the movie "Closer".
For the record; yesterday, I hung out with Fern at the Neurolux n' listened to music n' drank a jackncoke (fern a wine) n' made out a bit.

2006-03-04T23:03:00.000-08:00

I just felt a flash of inspiration and motivation for turning my interests in religion, morality, philosophy, ideology, and psychology into a project. I'd like to discover what is capable of filling the "void" left if religion were to disappear. What philosophy could grant societies the security and freedom they need to help individuals gain the fulfillment they seek? Are there really universal laws and human rights that should be preached in place of religious dogma? How would the philosophy of liberalism manifest itself if it were defined and afforded respect in much the same way religions are defined and respected? Hmm, my inspiration is quickly being replaced by exhaustion. Maybe later I'll dedicate another blog to this project. Its high time I narrow my focus and begin structuring my thoughts on the matter of a philosophy of living. I'll start by examining the logic associated with various religions and alternative life philosophies.

2006-03-01T21:01:00.000-08:00

If a flu doesn't go away, it might as well be interesting. Mine has done so by being markedly different each of the three days I've had it. Day one was "oh shit, I've got a tumor" day. Day two was "flu, what flu?" day, as all of my symptoms drastically diminished thanks to my taking the day off of work and subsequently resting and drinking a lot. On day three it was the flu's turn, declaring, "I aint done yet", as a general feeling of crappiness filled my person once again.
Of course this sucks, because with being sick, it seems as if everything about me that rocks goes into deep hibernation. Its like I'm half the man I used to be (cue Stone Temple Pilots). Where's my charm gone? My sense of humor? My mojo? My zeal for seizing the moment? For the moment, they seem to have dissappeared.
Things could be worse. As a matter of fact, my symptoms are some of the least miserable symptoms I've ever had with a bout of flu. So every now and then I've got a flemy cough that hurts a little. At least my nose isn't stuffed up and running like a leaky faucet. So my throat is a bit sore and my glands feel a tad swollen. At least my throat doesn't feel like an ice pick is being stabbed into it every time I swallow like it did when I had mono a year ago. I can breath air, swallow water, and eat food relatively painlessly; which given that I have a roof over my head, is all that a person needs, right? See, its good to have perspective about these things. Enough about me and my silly flu.
Work sucked today because Armagedon is nigh and no one but me seems capable of recognizing it. Seriously, its sooo busy and its not even the busy time of year. Even with the employees we have now, we can't get the things done that we need to get done from day to day. At the rate things are going, we'll be running out of bikes and sucking at customer service by the end of the month. But, whatever. I like to believe that I have the wisdom to try to change the things that I can change and accept the things I can't change, and all that nonsense. [hmm, I think there's a creature outside my sliding glass door. I heard a noise. Well, I hope it likes the mashed potatoes and gravy I threw out there last night]
I met up with Fern at the Flicks today after work. We watched Brokeback Mountain. An awesome movie, to say the least. Absolutely stunning in its simplicity, realism, and tragedy. A movie that pulls on your heart strings in just the same way all movies about love, lack of love, divorce, and death do. It was an extraordinarily unoriginal movie, except that its rare to view a love story about two gay men. In addition, it was way beyond ordinary in terms of acting, directing, and producing in general.
Tomorrow I work from 10am to 9pm. I've agreed to man the 3rd annual Boise Bike Swap from 6-9 in exchange for getting my sick day back-the one I utilized yesterday. I was hoping I'd have this flu beat by Friday, but I somehow doubt that being on my feet 11 hours tomorrow is going to help in that goal. At any rate, I've never been to the Bike Swap, and I'm curious to see what its like. Maybe I'll find something I've got to have. Which would be exciting.

2006-02-28T21:31:00.000-08:00

Following one of the best weekends of my many days, I was struck down by a bout of influenza. I woke up around 4 a.m. Monday morning with a little anxiety about a pain I was having behind my breast bone, above my heart. I had been aware of the pain throughout the night, but it was the wild thoughts of a festering tumor in my chest that eventually pulled me out of bed all flustered and panicky. I immediately began searching the web for a diagnosis of my symptoms. I came to a site that offered just that; and after spending 50 minutes answering over a hundred questions regarding every aspect of my health, I was prompted to enter my credit card number and pay $25 before receiving my professional diagnosis. I was perturbed. But I was thankful that I wasn't some senile old person who was having a truly life threatening occurance. The massive questionaire did calm me down a bit, as I realized that there were a lot of "conditions" that I didn't have, like irritable bowel syndrome or genital warts and the like. Anyway, after searching some more, I willed myself to believe that I was having a very bad case of acid reflux. My symptoms were exactly those associated with the problem; and considering I had basically fasted through several hours of work and a bike ride on Sunday then gorged myself on Pollo Rey, it seemed to make perfect sense-it was definately acid reflux. I'd buy some Tums tomorrow. So I slept better after that. Monday morning, before work, I came to suspect that my poor ol' body was dealing with more than just a little acid reflux. Muscles I hadn't used in a while were sore like I had just spent a day at the gym. Soon after I arrived at work, I knew I shouldn't be there, as my skin became clammy and my entire body was weak. I really really didn't want to relive what I went through last year around this time, so I really really wanted to go home and rest/sleep. Unfortunately, we were already missing an employee that day, which left two regular employees (Sandy and I) and Mike (who is often running errands, and isn't often available to help with customers). Instead of going home to rest and head off the sickness before it got too bad, I worked harder than usual. Whenever there was a lull in business, however, I would sit down and read a magazine with my weary head resting in my hands. When I finally got home Monday I made myself the food item I was first able to eat after suffering through mono last year-mashed potatoes and gravy. Sure enough, I felt better instantly. I drank a lot of water, took a couple acetemenaphin, watched tv, and went to bed early. Before bed, I began to perspire quite a bit, which was reassuring, because I correlate sweating with a fever breaking. In the morning, after a decent night sleep, I felt quite well. Today, I've just tried to take it as easy as possible. I did make a visit to Fern's around 5pm in order to sample her Martha Stewart inspired scalloped potato dish with thyme seasoning. It was excellent and happened to be a form of that food which seems to work so well for me when I'm sick-the tuber. Fern and I went for a walk into the North End to her landlords house in order to drop off her rent check, and then made our way to the Flying M where I bought a chai tea, chocolate chip cookie, and read the paper. It was good to be somewhere I often go when I'm not sick just to help me forget about my current state for a moment. I went home soon after Fern left to meet her sister, who was celebrating her 21st birthday at a downtown bar or two. I spent some time researching music online. I listened to quite a bit of new music on Amazon.com and read several interviews with the Shins and Modest Mouse. I was very surprised to learn that Isaac Brock of Modest Mouse was a huge Shins fan back when the Shins were just upstarts, and that Isaac is more or less responsible for getting them signed with Sub Pop. Its very interesting, because both bands are on the top 5 list, if not top 3 list, of my favorite bands, but before today I had no idea that there was any connection between the two. And their sounds are pretty different.
Anyway, Eric just got home. He asked me if I had felt cold/clamy when I got sick, and I said yes, and then I asked him if he has a sore throat, and he said yes, so now he's worried that he's coming down with the same thing I have, which wouldn't surprise me. The only good news is that this flu seems to be on the verge of ending after only a couple of days. And, of course, I'm pretty sure by now that I don't have a tumor. Which means I'll sleep just fine tonight.

2006-02-26T20:50:00.000-08:00

Great weekend. Friday was a beautiful day. A perfect day for staying indoors; cleaning my room, detoxing the bathroom, doing laundry, the dishes, etc. That evening, Fern and I stopped by church, and ate at a new Mexican restaurant downtown. Fine atmosphere and food, just a little too authentic to be tasty.
Saturday was perfect. I slept in before being picked up by Fern and beginning the days adventure. We stopped in at the Flying M and got Mochas to go. The day's main event was next-snowboarding at Bogus Basin. It was a gorgeous, relatively warm day. For the first time we both utilized our very own equipment and passes. It cost us nothing to spend several hours having a blast on the mountain. I became a little concerned about my board selection after having difficulty turning on the first run of the day; but during the second run, down an intermediate slope, my advanced to expert level board felt much more manuverable and at home. I made a decent amount of progress that day, my third time on "the hill". I had several smooth runs with plenty of turns, and had a ton of fun in the process. I left satisfied but knowing that I had a lot I still needed to pick up on. Back home that afternoon, I zoned out in front of the TV for an hour or so, then cleaned up and met Fern (who was running a mild fever) for an evening out. We ended walking around town a bit before catching a movie at the Edwards 9. We watched "Freedom Land", a suspensful murder mystery packed with intense scenes in which Samuel Jackson and Julian Moore flexed their enormous acting muscles. A good film for reasons other than just the acting. Afterwards, we grabbed a bite to eat and consumed some vino at Grenika.
Today I slept in, worked, and met Fern for a Mountain Bike Ride(!). The temperature outside must've been near 51 when we headed out. The wind was brisk and the trails just a smidge muddy, but the ride was great. It was just what we needed. It has literally been months since we last went on a mountain bike ride together. I was impressed with how well Fern rode after all that time. We went our seperate ways after the ride, cleaned up, and met at Pollo Rey for dinner. I ordered two items on the menu-a stuffed carne burrito and a roasted chicken quesadilla-because I was starving from missing lunch (work was busy). After dinner we drove to Barnes n' Nobles where I looked at a couple progressive magazines as well as a few music mags.

2006-02-23T20:47:00.000-08:00

Funny thing, I've got nothing to say. Of course, I know that's not true, but it is true that I'm typing this not because I have to get something off my chest. Nor am I feeling compelled to share some amazing new insight into the nature of being human, alive, beautiful, or dead sexy. I'm pretty sure I just like the feeling of my fingers tapping rapidly and rhythmically on the keyboard. And then there's that pleasant tinge of excitement I feel each time I'm about to think into unthought-of territory. Going where none of Josh's brain cells have gone before!(sorry) Actually, 9 times out of 10 I'm probably reitterating something I first scribbled in my journal when I was 14. Who cares. If 10% of the time I think of one idea that is new to me, even if its just one phrase surrounded by a plethora of obvious observations and simple reasoning, then I'm stoked.

Speaking of being excited, what's wrong with me? I get so amped up at work sometimes. Take today. Soon after I got to work I jumped on my bike, rode to the Fish and Game center a half mile away, and purchased two maps of a chunk of southwest Idaho including Boise, the Boise front, Nampa, Caldwell, Melba, Emmett, Horshoe Bend, the Snake River, Marsing, Homedale, Parma, and all of the surrounding area. The aquisition of these maps was something I had been planning to achieve for some time, ever since we created a new sitting area in the corner of the shop. I enjoy showing people exciting routes they can take on their road bikes, so a while back I made the decision that we would buy and display a detailed road map of the area. What's extra cool is that I decided to do it and I did it. My job grants me the freedom to determine what I think needs to be done, and I'm almost always able to do it without objections from the bosses. The entire shop-the largest bike shop in Boise and one of the largest bike shops in the country-is one big project that I get to work on every work day. Making things more organized, efficient, clean, and beautifully displayed sometimes feels like playing a video game. I'm not sure why. It may have to do with the satisfaction I get when each small improvement is made and I can stand back and stare at it, satisfied with the change. Its like making it to the next level. And rarely is a project difficult to accomplish, just like Super Mario Bros-fun!
Anyway, I hope I'm not making anyone sick with all of this "aint my job great" stuff. My job isn't great enough for me to not ask for a raise, which I plan to do in the coming days. Its been over a year since my last one, and I think its only expected and fair that the bosses grant me a 10% increase, especially considering profits were up around 20% since last year. (I wonder if anyone's heard me say that before)
I really hate sounding like a "company man". Its way to easy to become one of those people who seem to live for their jobs. Becoming good at a job is one of the lamer ways to gain a sense of pride, in my opinion. One might begin to rely on their job as their source of pride. If you do something often enough for long enough, you're going to become good at it, but that doesn't mean you're automatically a well rounded, healthy, and happy person. Accomplishing something on the job can be your drug, and you end up not being happy unless you get your fix. And that's not cool. That said, I'm having fun seeing the shop progress with my help. Otherwise, when I'm not at work, I've got other things to think about, talk about, obsess over, and have fun with. Which is funny, because wasn't I just talking about what I did today at work? Ah, screw reason! Logic is so over rated. Let me tell you what else I did today! I called a man about getting some unfolded Ridge to Rivers trail maps. He stopped in and dropped them off. I took them to Kinkos and had them backed with foam core. I reorganized the cyclocomputer area, making more room for all the different models and significantly decluttering things. As a part of that project, I made an organized, easy to use compartment system for our computer accessories. I vaccummed and mopped the corner area. Yeah, and I did some other stuff. I've lost the love for listing things off and talking about work.
I received an informative email from dear ol' Mom today. I learned that it snowed so much in Arkansas that church was cancelled. You'd think that a people who pushed handcarts all the way from Independence, Missouri to the Great Salt Lake could drive their cars through 4 inches of snow two miles to church. Oh right, they might want to avoid another Donner Party cannibalism episode. I also learned that "my sister the lawyer" will have a letter published in People magazine in the March 6th issue. My youngest sister recently came upon an accident on the highway and had to help a man who was injured when his car was struck by a semi. And that's exciting, in a morbid sort of way.
I've been watching the Tour of California on ESPN2 for the last 3 nights. America's best riders-the riders who usually only race in Europe-have all shown up to race in California. Nearly all of them are currently in the top 10 and within a couple minutes of each other in the general race classifications (total elapsed time). Its been great to see professional cycling get such great coverage in the U.S. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who is excited about the possibility of this race becoming bigger and bigger every year.
Wow, apparantly I've got some things to say, but nothing extremely intellectually stimulating. At least those things aren't for me, so I'll guess they aren't for most everyone else reading. I'll abide by the rule that if its not stimulating, you might as well stop it; therefore, goodnight.

2006-02-20T22:18:00.000-08:00

I just accomplished a small errand. I rode my bike back to 7/11 in search of my missing wallet. The clerks didn't have it so I began retracing my route home and soon found it in the chiropractor's parking lot. It lay splayed open with my debit and credit cards dislogded. Relieved, I picked it up, stuck it in my jacket pocket, and zipped the pocket closed.
It was dumb riding my commuter bike with a gallon of milk swaying from the handlebar while guiding my road bike along side with my left hand during which my jacket pocket was unzipped wherein resided my wallet. I won't ever do that again.

Today I became annoyed at stupid holidays when I couldn't gain access to the post office to send off the jeans I ordered online which don't fit me. I also worked. Then I sipped a glass and a half of vino at Opa! with Fern. Afterwards we talked about how she used to think that guys' balls were just a reference to the particular anatomy of the schlong, and how I used to think that women gave birth out their butt holes. Of course, we were both like 17 when we thought these things. Just kidding.

I was thinking about something today that fits in perfectly with the mombo jumbo I sometimes write about in this blog. It pertains to the concept of being "alive". Not just "being", but really feeling "alive". I'm sure you already get it, but just to hone in on the idea some more, I'll use a few examples. Some people really feel alive when they go for a good run, or watch the sunset, or camp out, or read a stimulating book, or play with their newborn baby, or whatever. Perhaps this is painting a more generic picture of what it means to be alive than my original thought. I want to zero in on the word "growth". To be alive in the purest sense is to be growing and develping more than you are dying or loosing it, so to speak. Babies and children are very alive in the most obvious physiological ways. They grow like weeds, their metabolisms are on fire, their full of energy. To be alive mentally, there needs to be growth and a relatively high degree of activity in the brain. Mental/cognitive growth is physiological, primarily. When someone learns something new, neurons connect in the brain, new sequences fire off. This process of learning, as far as I know, doesn't diminish as one ages, as long as one activily seeks to learn and do new things. So, there's a couple of obvious ways to be alive in this growing sense-physical, mental-but there's a more common understanding of the sentiment, and that is doing what one is passionate about or what causes one joy. Someone could be old, crippled, and retarded; but if he/she was engaged in activities that he/she truly loved to do, that brought him/her joy, then most would agree that the old crippled retarded shemale (hehe) would be quite alive-perhaps more so than the average person who has no true passions or interests.
This gets me closer to what I wanted to talk about. I guess. I've said that I want to live a passionate life. I suppose that one might imply from everything I've written that my definition of a passionate life, or really being alive, is being and acting sensually, as well as having fun and experiencing new places and things. Its a pretty generic definition of a passionate life that happens to give away my age, I think. From what I can tell, a lot of young people, as well as older people strive to live this way.
I want to take full advantage of my youth and health by utilizing my physical assets through exercise, play, and pleasure-seeking. I want to share my time with someone who is also youthful and energetic. Essentially, seizing the day for me involves really enjoying myself as much as I can by doing whatever it is I want to do. It may sound simple, shallow, and self centered, but its what I wish for every other living being as well-which is a very unselfish sentiment.
A big anyway is overdue. ANYWAY, it has occurred to me on more than one occassion that I could live my life in other ways. Mainly, my thought is that I could devote my life to the study of something like philosophy, or I could spend all of my time composing music. It is sad that life is so short and that there is only one per person. While I wouldn't change a thing about my life right now, I do have SO many interests. I could feel so alive emmersing myself in any one of a plethora of interests I own. The way this utter-devotion-to-something idea differs from the way so many live their lives is obvious. Right now I live like a lot of people do, because I share the same basic philosophy on life as most--enjoying it as much as it can be enjoyed. But I've always said that I don't want to live a conventional life. While I seek after the same enjoyment as others, I believe that I can still lead an exceptional, unordinary life. The hope to do the ordinary things better and more by living smarter. And I'll constantly have an mind and heart trying to steer me towards the things in live that are novel, new, unusual, and unordinary. I'll keep my interest in the mode of living of artists and scholars, that utter-devotion and singular passion, and tap into it whenever I can.
I guess what started this random thinking was the simple feeling that its just too bad we can't live more lives, just to experiment with all the different ways we could live. My life is great, but I still wonder what it would be like to be born in another country during another time. I wonder what it would be like be a reclusive artist in New York City or a philosophy student in Paris. The wondering part is what's exciting. If it were possible for me to magically be someone else somewhere else, I definately would NOT choose to make the change. Its just that sometimes one life doesn't seem like enough.

2006-02-18T22:13:00.000-08:00

Hey, great! I didn't let this weekend go by without getting nice and buzzy, er drunk, er whatever. Really, there needs to be another word for drunk that isn't "drunk", cause when I say the word drunk I think of someone who can't walk straight, who slurs his speech, and makes a complete jackass of himself. That's not me. I'm just feeling good. Why can't we call feelin' the alcohol "feeling good", or something along those lines? I've got a good buzz. That's the best way the English language allows me to express the way I'm a' feelin', but somehow it doesn't do it justice.
Let me say that I don't know why Long Island Iced Tea and all its various forms, like the Black Opal, aren't absolutely famous for their ability to do the job, so to speak. The drinks regularly push the $5-7 mark, but their bang for the buck is unmatched. And unlike beer, their "drunk" is quite nice.
So, I just arrived home from "Humpin Hanna's". A quality establishment I've got to admit. Whereas people smoke and converse at the Neurolux, my usual hangout, folks are fun-oriented at Hanna's with the plethora of pool tables, the foozeball, the dance floor, live music, and all. Fern and I played a few rounds of fooseball (who the hell knows how to spell it, and who cares?). I don't know if there's anything that pumps alcohol into the system faster than a fierce game of table hockey. Other than the table hockey and public make out sessions, Fern and I enjoyed a middle school dance to a Cindy Lauper song as sung by Rockie Johnson.
I skipped out on the last 2 hours of work in order to buy a season pass to Bogus Basin for the sale price of $200. Very excited about that. What's extra great about it, is that the pass for next year will gain me access for the rest of this year. So, if I can buy a snowboard, boots, and bindings, it won't cost me a thang to spend a day on the mountain.
I worked to day because I traded a day with Sandy a couple of weeks ago. Work was busy-business is amazing considering its February. Sold a $2500 bike. Customer was grateful for my help, which always makes me feel good.
Inway, that's it. Night.

Oh yes, after getting season passes and before hitting the town, Fern and I created an amazing Tofu Stroganofff; which, since the recipe came from an eclectic vegetarian recipe book, was more like stroganof and a big bowl of simmering vegatabley goodness. We mixed the two together and it was great. Then we took Chester (Jennifer's house-sitting dog) for a walk to Camel's back.

2006-02-17T22:11:00.000-08:00

This will be an exercise in brevity as I am tired and wanna go to bed.
Woke up this morning and had a bowl of wheat chex. Went over my list of around a' bout 30 items that I wanted to get done or buy to determine the order in which I would do and buy things. Bundled up with multiple layers. Went to the bank and deposted checks. Went to Albertsons and cashed in about $14 in coins using the Coinstar machine. Road my bike to Garden City to the UPS warehouse to pick up my package-two pair of AG jeans I ordered on-line. To Home Depot in search of a variety of things, including supplies to make a hanging pan holder device for my kitchen. Gave up on the idea and left with several spray bottles of cleansers. Went to Target. Had a hotdog with sourkraute and a Coke at the Target deli. Bought a hyacinth-cented candle, an atomic wall clock, a 3-bulb floor lamp with tall paper shade, large German-made crystal, a fancy corkscrew, and dry-erase markers. Shoved it all in the two packs I brought and rode home very gingerly. Found a place for everything I bought. Cleaned my body and straightened the apartment. Met Jennifer at a house she was sitting. Took dog for a walk. Ate pizza. Drank stuff. Played cowboys n' indians. Or something like that.

2006-02-16T21:16:00.000-08:00

Well wasn't it nice to have the old Josh pop in for a visit? It had been a while since I last attempted to bring anything of substance to the table. Its fun to do every now and then. And its totally worth risking making a fool of myself if in the end I either sit back satisfied by the accuracy and skill of my articulation or later I'm able to see some glowing fault in my thinking. Usually, if the latter happens, greater understanding of the subject-usually myself-occurs. And that's always nice.

For example, I sometimes doubt whether I'm justified in idealizing sexuality. When imagining a life that is sexually fueled-where sex, passion, love, and attatchment are all very much interconnected-I sometimes experience a passing feeling that such a life doesn't completely capture what it means to be human. Tentatively speaking, perhaps I'm completely missing out on those feelings associated with family; with being a father, with loving a son or daughter (hey that rhymed), with receiving love and admiration from from my own children. I say this with almost no impetus. I really don't feel a desire to have children at all. If I try, I can imagine having a great time with kids. I think I would be a good father. But the point is I don't care to be, at least that's how I feel right now. And its this lack of interest in something that obviously is a huge deal for everyone else in the world that makes me wonder if I'm a missing out on something emotionally. I don't mean the feelings one has towards their children. I mean some feeling I should have now towards people in general.

I'm totally content with the way I am. By that I mean being obsessed with primarily two people: Jennifer and myself. I'm very much cool with it. When I was wee there must have been just enough social turmoil to lessen my comfort and enjoyment of most things of a social nature. That said, I've had some of the absolutely greatest times of my life doing things with friends. Obviously I don't choose to spend time alone or with Jennifer because I can't go out and have a good time with others. Its a preference thing. By myself I experience peace, comfort, and passion (with music and art) that I can't experience in social situations. With Jennifer, the intimacy of verbal and non-verbal exchanges far exceeds anything I experience alone or with casual friends. Intimacy is something my "soul" has always cried out for (sounds like "arrrrggh" in case you were wondering). Besides the intimacy of our relationship, the joy that Fern radiates by simply being herself is another incentive for spending so much time with her. Ultimately, joy tends to manifest itself as "having fun", and we have plenty of that.

Whether or not a passionate life lacks all of life's emotional rewards is a mystery to me. All I know is that my motivation has been to live a passionate/romantic/fun life. I've yet to feel compelled to dedicate my life to feeding the children. Mother Teresa I am not. Whether I'll someday be a father Josh is a question that can only be answered with time.

2006-02-15T20:30:00.000-08:00

If only I had another 5 hours in the day and another 5 hours worth of energy. I'd push back my chair and attack this mess of an apartment with a ninja-like flurry of strikes, throws, and sprints. I'd run around collecting dishes, tossing junk mail in the trash, lofting dirty clothes into the dirty clothes basket, vacumming the floor, wiping down the kitchen counter, putting up CDs, and placing bikes in their proper spots. With my apartment decluttered and deep-cleaned, I could truly relax.

A comfortably lit, clean, cozy home filled with music-a swaying melody, random kicks of bass, and reaching vocals-inspires creativity and action. I'd love to have that right now. The music is playing and I'm feeling a little ball of joy in the middle of my chest. I think I'm feeling inspired. Ryan Adams is singing through the stereo. But while my apartment is a mess, I'm not going to stretch out on the floor and write lyrics, or pull up a chair next to my keyboard and compose a melody. Its just the way it goes.

Two years ago, I sat at this desk and began typing, "Hi, my name is Josh Travis..." as though I were a recovering alcoholic. A new emotional low had struck and I felt as though my mind and life had been derrailled. The events that led up to that moment, when I attempted to regain my sense of self through an objective examination of who I was, wouldn't make for an interesting story. I also doubt that what I went through was very unique. What was unique, I think, was how I dealt with the emotional pain and desperation of the time. I'm glad to say that through patience, self-examination, and most importantly, through serious thought, I've learned so much that I doubt I'll ever have to feel so low again. If that's a little vague, don't worry, its just the nature of segways. Anyway, as a result of those difficult times I arrived at a few conclusions about the ways in which I'll live my life that I've been trying every since to put into practice. Here, let me share a few with you...

On happiness:
First, Since I was a young lad, I've had a hard time coming to terms with the nature of love, lust, and beauty. For example, when I was still a member of the LDS church, I couldn't understand why sex was wrong. As I grew older and began thinking more for myself, I declared that sex was not wrong as long as you loved your partner. By the time I entered my late teens and stopped going to church, I had determined that there was nothing wrong with sex at all; unless, of course, someone ended up hurt. Still, until just a couple of years ago, I couldn't get over the fact that physical beauty sharpened or caused feelings of love. It seemed wrong to feel something so strong and seemingly important based, at least initially, on something as shallow as physical beauty. Well, I think that I've come to terms with this inherent "immorality" of human nature. I've accepted that beauty AND lust AND sex DO affect our deeper feelings towards others. Love, respect, attachment, fondness, friendship, happiness--all that--is still more important that momentary sexual pleasure, but I'm no longer disturbed by the fact that there is such an interdependence/interplay between love, lust, and beauty. I've embraced the marriage of these phenomena; which, in many instances, can exist exclusively from one another. But, the ideal, and I think the natural mode of existence, is for both sentimental and sexual feelings, as well as attraction to beauty, to be embraced all together. The way this conclusion has affected my life is that I take being sexual quite seriously. Most importantly, I strive to feel sexy and I want my partner to feel sexy as well. Feeling sexy means feeling physically and mentally healthy and vibrant. But it also means being keenly aware of your ability to give and recieve pleasure. There's an excitement in that which heightens the experience of living even when you're not in the bedroom. To know that you are desirable, and to desire, is an aspect of living that I will always work to keep. I'm an idealist. I believe that there is no limit to progress, and this applys to sex; which, for me, is another reason to be excited.

My conclusion about the interplay/interconnectedness/interdependence of love, lust, and beauty led me to focus on the importance of a sexual self-perception and feeling, and not so much on the importance of love and beauty because I've always thought highly of love. I've held love higher and apart from sex and beauty. I still find it more important, but I've granted sex and beauty much greater significance, despite the primitive drives of sex and the shallow, unjust pull of beauty. Physical attraction is something we can't turn on and off like a switch. It happens more or less involuntarily. So, in recent years, I've only become more committed to taking care of myself and looking good. I really don't think that its silly or shallow. Its healthy. And it can be a fun hobby, being into fashion and design, and looking forward to becoming more and more fit, more and more stylin'--without sacrificing personality.

Another conlcusion that's changed how I live my life has to do with reconciling passions and priorities in life. This is going to sound cheesy, but I determined a little over a year ago, after some careful thought, that no hobby or work or interest or any other passion should come close to "outshining" your significant other. In other words, your most loved hobby should be your relationship/affair. Instead of spending 4 hours a day building a model train landscape, you should spend that time doing things that in some way contributes to the passion of your relationship. Instead of dedicating oneself to becoming the best lawyer in the state, what if you put that sort of energy into living life passionately--fun, excitement, experience. (have I said "passion" enough already?) You get the point.

Ok, next conclusion. This may sound a bit like the last. It follows from... I'm a devout agnostic. I tend to think that believing in before and after-life or a god is one of the most retarded things you can do. (sorry) Of course, as an agnostic, I've got to include the disclaimer that I remain open to the possibility that an after-life or god exists. Still, there's a possibility that I could win the lottery tomorrow, but that doesn't mean I'm going to quit my job today. Anyway, these are not original or uncommon thoughts. I'd dare say that agnostisism is the fastest growing "religion" in the world. It just doesn't get the recognition or respect it deserves. My non-religion, like most religions, are based on simple axioms from which implications can be derived. Essentially, my beliefs lead me to view life in sober, honest terms. We are young and healthy for only so long. Life is short (or atleast we'll say so right before we die). Death is just around the corner. It could be tomorrow. THEREFORE, (I now present the worlds biggest cliche) we must live for today. We must seize the day. I've gone on and on about this before. Still, for some reason I feel compelled to bring it I think that its an idea that could be taken more seriously, especially among the religious/traditional set out there. I'll remain committed to the motto "carpe diem" for as long as I live, no matter how cheesy I seem whenever the words issue from my mouth. So help me, um... god?

2006-02-13T21:23:00.000-08:00

Where oh where have all the chocolate pudding cutie pies gone? Why oh why do I only see fruit filled cutie pies on the shelf at 7-11? Is it possible that the Hostess man stocks the shelves with fresh chocolate pies at the start of the day, and that by the time I absolutely need to satisfy my cutie pie craving at 10pm, other's have walked off with every single morsel of chocolatey, creamy goodness?? If so, its way beyond unfortunate, its tragic.
This morning I woke up somewhat early in order to shave, shower, and get to work in time to sweep and mop the floor before we opened. For some reason, I was thinking that it was Valentines day, so I began formulating plans to send flowers to Jennifer at work. I thought it would be a nice surprise, especially in light of the fact that I don't put much stock in Valentines Day-I think its one of those manufactured holidays that I didn't sign off on; and besides, every day is supposed to be a Valentines Day, right? Well, I'm glad things were just busy enough at work this morning to keep me from carrying through with my plan. Needless to say, I would have felt a little embarrassed if I had sent the flowers on the wrong day.
There was little time to rest at work today. As is often the case, I had to put my lunch on hold half way through in order to help a customer. I sold a $2000 bike which happened to be one of my favorite road bikes, so I felt good about that deal. I also talked with a gentleman (the lingo we choose to use when referring to male customers) for a length of time about the Specialized Roubaix-a full carbon bike that's known for its stable handling and smooth ride-a bike that I felt would be perfect for the RAAM (race across america), which the customer was going to be a part of in June. I talked to this customer until 6:12 or so, several minutes after close, and then rushed over to the Jordan Ball Room at the BSU sub to meet with Fern and listen to a short talk by Seymore Rush (the last name is wrong--don't know why I just forgot), a well known journalist. It was an entertaining and informative talk. I found Seymore to be a likeable fellow, although I was just a little uncomfortable not with the fact that he was biased/partisan, but with the fact that he was extremely biased/partisan while being a journalist. Bush's policies and the horrors of the Abu Grabe torture/shaming episodes deserve even greater outcry and investigation than what Seymore has done---I'm just saying that sometimes an extremely one-sided, passionate position expressed in opposition just seems kinda dumb to me. Preaching gloom and doom is soooo Republican AND Michael Moore, if that makes any sense. Its not attractive.
Anyway, afterwards, Fern and I walked to Winco and picked up some meat on which to poor Stubs BBQ sauce. At her home, we cooked up the pork chops, some brussel sprouts with houlendaise, and un-deluxe macaroni and cheese. A great meal, for sure. That's all.

2006-02-12T20:27:00.000-08:00

Yesterday's post is and isn't the sort of thing I'm going for. Yeah, late in life I want to be able to remember the things I did when I could do anything, when my body could take it and my heart did not fear it; but presenting just the facts does little to reproduce my life. I've got to remember to share some thoughts and feelings. Moreover, I'm hoping to sharpen my vision, my ability to observe the little joys and humor of day to day life. Fern is great at that.
So, the day started with a lack-luster wardrobe-induced anxiety attack. The jeans I chose to wear to work had come out of the dryer so shrunken that I felt like Joey Ramone after putting them on. I believe that noone should rock the painted-on jeans look unless they are indeed a rock star, or a female, and even then, its not always the best move. Later at work, after the jeans had stretched out a bit, I realized that I was happy with the fit. Jeans that are too tight work much better for me than jeans that are too baggy. The latter is unacceptable.
Now that I've revealed to the world that I'm a shallow self-centered fashion fiend for the umpteenth time, let me tell you about the rest of my day. Before work, I managed to bend my legs in my tight jeans just enough to pedal down to the Flying M and have a mocha with Jennifer. As usual, we engaged in good humored Joshifer banter that doubles as a comedy bit for anybody within earshot. Sometimes I'm amazed that folks nearbye remain composed, pretending to read their books or papers, when the two of us are on a roll.
Work was busy. I felt particularly outgoing and articulate with customers, riding a small wave of motivation after my trip to Specialized. The Specialized professors demonstrated a level of professionalism, knowledge, and enthusiasm that was above what I was accustomed to, and it was a great inspiration for me. I came away from the experience clearly seeing how success in business and sales has so much to do with the attitude you project when dealing with people. You want to demonstrate confidence, concern, and passion. I put some of this wisdom to use today. It was great practice. By the way, I will not rest until I reach ultimate perfection and enlightenment and am translated directly to the kingdom of heaven. I'm kidding.
After work, Fern gave me and my new set of Powerblock weights a ride home from the shop. I'm excited about the weights. They are essentially two sets of dumbells, from 10 to 45 pounds. But each set is integrated into a large block, and the weight is selected by moving a pit from slot to slot. Both 10-45lb sets sit on a custom 3 foot high stand that takes up no more than two square feet of my living room floor. Its such an easy to use, ergonomic, streamlined set up, that I think I'll actually use it. I will not stop lifting until I look like Sly Stalone in Demolition Man. I'm kidding.
So, I worked out for about an hour. Then I cleaned up the house a bit and had dinner. Later, Fern picked me up and we went to Barnes n' Nobles and selected several travel books about San Francisco and got comfortable. That's about all.