Random thoughts about our beach trip

There are many aspects of a beach trip that I enjoy. Relaxation and reading, though, are foremost.

Because melanoma and I do not get along, I mostly sat under the umbrella but, for a few minutes each day and after liberally applying SPF 30, I moved my beach chair out of the shade and sat in the sun.

About a year ago, my job was, for a very specific reason, uncontrollably stressful. One of the ways I dealt with it was by taking up meditation as taught by a Thai Buddhist leader. There are aspects of Buddhism which are inconsistent with my own beliefs. Meditation as a form of relaxation is not one of them. As I sat in the sun, passively aware of the crashing surf, I felt the heat of the sun on my body and meditated. It was a sublime experience such as I have never had. For those few minutes, everything in the world seemed okay and at peace. Here is where I and Buddhists part company: they would posit that my experience eliminated my suffering even if the experience was transitory. I believe that clearing my mind allowed me to more sharply experience God’s glory as manifested through his creation.

When I was sitting under the umbrella, I read three books:

I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. Engrossing novel written in the style of a diary of a 17 year old girl living in 1930s England. Not sure how I picked it because, as I just reread my last sentence, it sounds a bit juvenile. It isn’t. The narrator explores life in general including familial dysfunction, religion, and love in a compelling and gripping voice. It is one of those books that, as I was reading it, I thought, “I want to read this again sometime.”

A Corner in the Marais. Memoir of a Paris Neighborhood by Alex Karmel. It explores the history of Paris, specifically from the perspective of the history of the Marais district. The neighborhood is almost as old as the original Roman settlement that became Paris. I’ve never read a book written quite like this one. While I found it interesting, I think that someone who does not enjoy both history and Paris would find it utterly boring.

Learning to Bow: Inside the Heart of Japan by Bruce Feiler. Great book. It’s a memoir of Mr. Feiler’s experiences teaching English at a rural Japanese school. He was there in the 1990s and, while maybe it should have been obvious, I was shocked at the cultural differences between Japan and the U.S. Feiler’s style is highly narrative, making the book easy to read.

At night Jennifer and I watched a couple of movies at the local theater:

The DaVinci Code. I think it is much better than the reviews gave it credit. In spite of being somewhat predictable and a little long, I found it entertaining enough.

Poseidon. No great cinematic achievement. If you can get past that, suspend your disbelief at some of the stunts and understand that you are going to see a disaster movie with no character development whatsoever, then this popcorn munching action movie is enjoyable and entertaining.

We saw many dolphins and pelicans, especially in the late afternoons. Dolphins are so graceful and pelicans are, hands down, my favorite birds. They are so big but they glide along the wind so smoothly and then suddenly dive bomb at a fish. It amazes each time they do it.

The people sitting around us provided much entertainment. The group of beer guzzling college kids in front of us. I thought they would be loud and bothersome but they pretty much sunbathed, drank beer, and built the random sandcastle. The family beside us with six children. Each of their names started with the letter A. We called them the A-Team. The middle aged man and wife on the other side of us. She was quiet, he had a porn-star mustache, wore a red Chevrolet hat with flames, and watched boats with his binoculars. All in all, everyone was very nice and polite.

About midway through the week, I asked Jennifer how she thought people referred to us. She replied, “That weird couple who just sit under their umbrella talking about everyone else.”

50 Things about me

I have intended to do the “100 things about me” for some time. I started this morning but only got to 50. I might finish it later but more than likely I won’t. I thought I might as well go ahead and post it.

1. I don’t know what I want to do when I grow up.
2. I am a morning person.
3. I used to think that the soul mate business is a bunch of hooey. Then I met and fell in love with Jennifer and changed my mind. Everything about being her partner just seems right and I don’t know how else to describe it than to say she is my soul mate.
4. Jennifer and I will have been married for 10 years this June 29.
5. I love dogs of all shapes and sizes but prefer those of the sporting variety.
6. I am a Christian but I don’t go to church. I would like to but I can’t find a congregation that doesn’t make my stomach churn. Maybe someday…
7. I am addicted to coffee.
8. We have 2 dogs (Zoie and Sadie), 2 cats (Sidney and Saylor), and a fish (Schroedinger).
9. Men that only talk about sports are annoying. In spite of that, I am a lifelong St. Louis Cardinals and Arkansas Razorback fan.
10. I love to travel.
11. I prefer baths to showers but usually take a shower because it is more convenient.
12. I like beer. Just about any brand except Heineken.
13. Some of my favorite authors are Kerouac, C.S. Lewis, Hemingway, Annie Dillard, Plath, and Bukowski.
14. I don’t generally like to cook but I don’t mind to grill.
15. I grew up on a cattle farm. I did all sorts of things around the farm, like hauling hay, starting from about age 10 until I finished college. I hated it but, even though it sounds cliché, it taught me the value of working hard.
16. I have often said that there is no form of physical labor that I enjoy. In the past few years, though, I have found that I enjoy cleaning the house.
17. I hate mowing the lawn.
18. Going to the theater to see a movie is one of my favorite things to do.
19. I like serious films, especially dramas, but I also enjoy a good shoot ‘em up action or sci fi.
20. I love to eat but especially like ethnic foods.
21. I currently subscribe to The New Yorker, Rolling Stone, Entertainment Weekly, and The Smithsonian.
22. Scrubs is currently my favorite television show, although I really like Lost and Dr. Who. Historically, my favorite show of all time is Northern Exposure.
23. I prefer hard wood floors to carpet.
24. I have seasonal allergies.
25. I was once so scared while reading a Stephen King book that I had to quit and have never finished it (Pet Semetary).
26. I like politics. Although I have very strong views on most political issues, I like politics more for the strategy involved. As a result, I majored in political science in college. If I had it to do over again, I think I would major in English.
27. I went to law school because a B.A. in political science is virtually useless.
28. My favorite season is Autumn.
29. My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving.
30. My favorite city is Paris.
31. I have been hospitalized once. It was for surgery to repair my rotator cuff that I tore during high school. The doctors were not sure if I did it playing baseball or water skiing. Before I got it repaired, my shoulder would slip out of socket from time to time. It wasn’t particularly painful but it was very unnerving and disturbing.
32. I once hit pedestrian while driving. It broke her arm and her leg. I felt badly for her but the police officer who came to the scene said it wasn’t my fault (she was dressed completely in black and was jaywalking through an alley at night).
33. Including hitting the pedestrian, I have been behind the driver’s wheel during 5 traffic accidents. Except for one, they were all fender benders and not serious. The one that was serious happened during high school. I was driving way too fast on a dirt road trying to get my friend and I to the county fair. I flipped the Ford F-150 I was driving end over end. It landed upside down. When the dust settled, the engine shut off but the tape deck was still blaring Motley Crue’s Smoking in the Boy’s Room. Thinking back about it makes me laugh but we were seriously blessed not to be seriously injured. I had to have 10 stitches to sew up a gash in my chin. Otherwise, we weren’t hurt.
34. Boxers not briefs.
35. Shaving is the bane of my existence but I don’t like to have facial hair. Maybe I’ll get facial electrolysis.
36. I prefer diet Coke to the real thing.
37. I enjoy a good cup of tea.
38. In high school, I played basketball, baseball, and ran track.
39. I don’t currently play any musical instruments but, in the past, I have played piano and guitar. A virtuoso I am not.
40. I like almost all kinds of music.
41. I don’t really have a favorite color.
42. From the time I was born until I went to college, I lived in the same house. My parents still live there. Since then, I have lived in 3 different dorm rooms, one apartment, a duplex, and three houses. All in Arkansas.
43. I did not attend my 10 year high school reunion.
44. I was born in Harrison, Arkansas.
45. I have two siblings. They are both older – one is 11 years older and the other is 13. I definitely was not planned.
46. I have six nieces and nephews. The oldest is a junior in college, the youngest is in third grade.
47. My first memory is of talking to my father on walkie talkie that I got for Christmas one year. I don’t know how old I was.
48. My current car is the only new car I have ever owned.
49. I have found that friends often commiserate better than family.
50. I am irrationally scared of wolves.

Not Blog Blocked – Just Busy

I haven’t posted much lately because work has been crazy and I haven’t had time to write. We are leaving on Saturday for Florida. We’ll be there a week. I’m looking forward to sitting under an umbrella on the beach, reading, and watching people. I probably won’t post anything until we get back.

Congratulations Jeff

Last Saturday Jennifer and I went to Fayetteville to celebrate the college graduation of Jeff Dudley, the younger brother of Jennifer’s long-time friend Faith. Faith and Jeff’s family have been a part of Jennifer’s life for over 20 years and part of mine for as long as Jennifer has been.

After her mother moved back to Florida, Jennifer lived in Eureka Springs with the Dudleys every summer and winter break of college. I picked her up for our first date at their house. We first kissed while sitting in my Mazda truck, in the driveway of that same house. We still visit whenever possible but especially at Thanksgiving and Christmas when we have a continuing game of guys versus girls Trivial Pursuit.

I’ve watched Jeff and his brother Sam grow from little, skinny kids to thoughtful young men. My first memories of them are when they were 7 and 9, sitting across their mother’s coffee table from one another, and fighting over a game of pogs. Sam is now a well traveled, articulate journalism major. He recently spent a year in Turkey and, while there, wrote us the most wonderful, narrative emails about his travels. Jeff is about to embark on the next chapter in his life, a transition that I found troubling but exciting. He isn’t sure what he will do, maybe teach English in Japan for a couple of years, maybe go to graduate school.

Needless to say, I have great memories of Jeff and Sam and the rest of the Dudleys. Mostly, though, Jeff’s graduation reminded me how quickly time marches along. I was younger than Jeff when I met Jennifer and the Dudleys. I feel as if it couldn’t have been that long ago but, in my life, I’ve found that I often judge the time that has passed by remembering big events. I’m thankful that this was a happy one. It was a reason to have a couple of beers with people who have become great friends. It reminded me that almost every day brings a reason to celebrate. Thanks Jeff!

Eddie is Right

Around 2:00 this morning, the electricity in our house stopped powering all of our various modern conveniences. Until then, I wasn’t aware of the storm outside. We have fans on both sides of our bed. All year round, we sleep in a unnatural vortex of wind and white noise created by the fans. I imagine someone not accustomed to it would find sleeping in such conditions difficult. Once acclimated to it, however, it blocks out all outside distractions.

When the fans stopped around 2:00, Jennifer and I both immediately awoke. I sleep more deeply than Jennifer so am usually not fully awake as quickly as she. I was aware enough to realize that the power was off and that my alarm clock had become a useless hunk of plastic. I decided to get my palm pilot and set the alarm on it. I stumbled down the hall toward the dining room where I had left my work satchel. The hall was intermittently lit by lightning and, outside, thunder clapped as if to announce mother nature’s fury. The windows rattled.

In the past, I have feared thunderstorms or, more precisely, the tornadoes associated with them. Jennifer has always loved storms and, with many things, I have learned from her not to fear that which I cannot control. Sometimes, I forget. I remembered this morning. Instead of retrieving my hand-crank radio and listening to weather reports, I returned to bed with my palm pilot. I set the alarm and went back to sleep a few minutes later.

When my palm pilot’s alarm went off this morning and signaled the start of a new day, I was disappointed to find that the electricity had not returned to our house. While she got ready for school by candlelight, Jennifer and I discussed the situation a bit.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to get ready. Our hot water heater is electric. I did not relish the idea of taking a cold shower. Also, it is very difficult to put on contacts by candlelight. I thought that holding a flashlight while putting a piece of silicon in my eye could not be a good idea. Plus there was the coffee, or lack of it. For all practical purposes, I am not a functioning human being until I have coffee. It is a monkey that I am not willing to throw off my back. All of those things, for one reason or another, could be overcome.

The insurmountable task was shaving. If I go one day without it, I need a lawn mower the next day. Since I started shaving at 13, I have vacillated every few years between electric and regular razors. I am currently in an electric razor phase. I don’t even have any regular razors or shaving cream in the house. I eventually made it to work, although I was late.

While I drove to work, I reflected on the situation. I was amazed that, in all the years I have lived in thunderstorm prone areas, this morning was the first time I have had to get ready without electricity. In the past when we have been without electricity, it was at night or during snow storms when work or school is cancelled anyway. During those times, I have passed the time by reading with a candle or a flashlight. I have found them to be enjoyable respites from technology and modern conveniences. When my daily routine was so rudely interrupted this morning, though, it shook my confidence.

I’m still not sure what to make of the situation but, all morning long, I have continually thought about Eddie Vedder’s lyrics from Pearl Jam’s song Garden:

I don’t question our existence. I just question our modern needs.

A Great Weekend

Anyone who reads my blog on a regular basis probably knows that, this past weekend, I had the honor of participating in the wedding of my friends J and Jennie. The wedding itself was beautiful. In particular, I was amazed by the number of people that came from out of town to join the celebration. I know for a fact that there were people from New Orleans, Kansas City, Cleveland, and Nashville. I believe the attendance is a testament to how loved and loving J and Jennie are.

As if the honor of participating in the wedding wasn’t enough, I benefited from the large attendance because many of the people are mutual friends of mine. I was able to see some people I hadn’t seen in a while and I was able to meet others I have come to know through Jennie or J. It was a joyous occasion.

Unfortunately, I took only a few pictures. When I sat down to type this entry, I was hoping that I had one of each of the people I refer to above. Turns out, most of the ones I took are of Jennie or J. Here are a few. I’m posting them in chronological order.

Julie and my beautiful Jennifer.
Jason and Taft.
The lovely bride and Wendy (among others).
Kathy and Robert (among others).
The happy couple. Sorry if you have an aversion to bubbles, I love these pictures.
The happy couple again.
J. I love this picture because I think that J saw me and smiled the slightly mischievous smile when I took the picture. Guess I’ll have to confirm when they get back from Mexico.

Quentin Rules

Disclaimer: If you don’t like Pulp Fiction or Quentin Tarantino, you probably will not appreciate this post and may want to consider just moving on because there is nothing here for you to see.

During my lunch break today, I had to run a couple of errands. For one of them, I had to stop at a local establishment and pick up an article that I ordered weeks ago and for which I had already paid. The man behind the counter merely had to take my name and hand me what was rightfully mine. When I walked in the door, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy or that quick. There were a number of other customers standing around, some clearly ordering products similar to mine and some merely wanting to be handed what they, too, had already purchased. With my arms crossed and the sun warming my back through the glass door at the front of the store, I stood near the entrance of the business for 15 minutes before the person at the front of the line was satisfied with the quality of her purchase. None of the other people in line took as much of the counter man’s time. Still, I waited for another 15 minutes until I was at the front of the line.

As I stood there wanting to be somewhere else, the sun, that initially felt nice, began to bake me under my long-sleeve, button-down shirt. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my back. I hate back sweat. The fact that I was spending my lunch break, standing in a store with back sweat made me think, “I’m The Guns of the Navarone, I’m super-fly TNT, I’m a mushroom cloud laying mother fucker!” Then I just laughed to myself about Jules suddenly realizing that he shouldn’t be on brain detail since Vincent shot Marvin in the face. There are many things I really like about Pulp Fiction but among them is how his story focuses on the daily lives of gangsters and the consequences of their gangster activities.

For example, consider Jules’ reaction to Vincent shooting Marvin in the face. He isn’t mad that Vincent shot Marvin. He doesn’t really consider it out of the ordinary that someone got shot in the same car he is driving. His immediate reaction is concern for his own butt. I don’t recall the exact dialogue but it’s something like, “Man, I don’t know what we’re gonna do, I ain’t got no friends in 818.” He knows they better get the car off the road and get it someplace where the mess won’t be seen. His reaction is true, at least for a gangster.

Anyway, I think Quentin makes great movies. Today, just the memory of Pulp Fiction made me smile while I was in a situation that was otherwise not fun.

Howard Hughes Anyone?

This afternoon, I used the restroom at work, washed my hands, and, while being careful not to touch the dispenser, pulled out two paper towels. I dried my hands, opened the restroom door with the paper towels, held the door open with my foot and threw the paper towels toward the trash can. I missed.

I thought momentarily about walking out and leaving the paper towels on the floor. I quickly decided that I didn’t want the maintenance people to clean up my mess. I let the door shut in front of me.

Because there was no way to determine which part(s) of the paper towels on the floor had touched the door, the trash can, or the floor, I carefully pulled another paper towel from the dispenser and used it to pick up those on the floor. As I did, my finger grazed the restroom floor. “Crap,” I thought. I threw away the whole bundle and washed my hands again.

Cuckoo!

Donald Rumsfeld and Lilacs?

We bought a new bed not long ago. The headboard is solid and low such that when I fold my pillow in half and prop it against the headboard, it provides perfect support for reading in bed. Last night I went to bed around 9:30 with this week’s New Yorker; I had started an article about Donald Rumsfeld that I intended to finish before I read yesterday’s Bible passages (I have one of those Bibles that is divided into 365 daily readings). Unfortunately, I fell asleep with Rumsfeld. Sorry God.

At 6:30 this morning, my alarm started buzzing. I awoke to find a brand new day waiting for me that I didn’t want to greet. I’ve yet to understand why some mornings are like this one or, rather, why I am immediately in a bad mood upon waking. I was mad that the alarm had gone off, I was mad that, even though I desperately wanted a cup, I had to make coffee, I was mad that I had to go to work, and I was mad that I had to take a shower before I could leave. I begrudgingly climbed out of bed, grumbled around the house gathering clothes for the day, let the dogs outside, and started my coffee. After letting the dogs back in, feeding them, feeding myself, and having a cup of coffee, I felt a little better or at least I was a little more awake. I proceeded on with the morning routine and actually left a little earlier than normal.

But when I pulled my car into the parking lot, I still didn’t want to be at work. I dragged myself across the parking lot and into my building’s lobby. I got on an elevator with three other people, all getting off on different floors. Lucky me. The three others engaged in small talk while the elevator stopped three different places and I stared at the floor. It was the longest elevator ride ever.

When the elevator stopped on 6 and I stepped off, I was startled to find that there were doors on either end of the lobby that were closed. The lobby on my floor opens directly into the office areas without doors. I started to reach for the elevator button and looked up to the directory, located across from the elevators on each floor, to see if I needed to go up or down. It read, “6th Floor.” I was totally confused. I suddenly remembered that security doors are supposed to be installed so that access to each floor is limited. Apparently, the installation had started overnight last night. Normally, I would have laughed at my ridiculousness but, this morning, I was merely infuriated that someone had the audacity to change things without a warning.

I marched to my office and logged on my computer. I read and responded to a few emails and started reading a document. I’ve found that my productive attention span, until my mind needs a short diversion, is about an hour. After reading the document for about an hour, I took a short break and happened across this on a blog that I read from time to time but without regularity. Mel’s metaphor has less impact outside of her post as a whole but I needed to hear, “Already, the tulip petals have fallen. But you can get in on the lilacs if you hurry.”

She reminded me that, this morning, I had been a huge brat and had forgotten the blessings in my life. Consider this: I went to dinner last night with great friends, watched what I wanted on television, and read the magazine that I chose. I awoke this morning next to the love of my life, ate the breakfast of my choice, was greeted by dogs that bring me constant joy, chose what to wear from a closet full of clothes, drove to work in my very own car, and went to a job in a field that I chose.

What did I have to grumble around about? Even though I would like to blame my mood on Rumsfeld (Who wants to go to sleep with him?), I won’t because I alone am responsible for it. I don’t know of any lilacs around Little Rock still in bloom but thanks, Mel, for the reminder. The next time I awake in a foul mood, I’ll remember the lilacs no matter what season it happens to be.

Disappointed

I enjoy nothing more than watching a movie on a Sunday afternoon. I generally go to the theater because I like the total escape from reality. Jennifer sometimes goes with me but, often, we spend Sunday afternoons doing our own thing. She happened to go with me yesterday when we saw American Dreamz.

I think Hugh Grant is hilarious and, especially after seeing Saved!, I like Mandy Moore. I also like good satire. With the combination of the three, I’m not sure where American Dreamz went wrong. It isn’t good. The truly disappointing thing is that it’s not really bad either. It has a few funny moments, although I would not describe them as laugh out loud. The satire is biting but isn’t delivered that well. The movie is just tolerable. Being just tolerable is the most damnable thing I can think to say about a movie. Directors should do something, anything, to distinguish their movies from all the other garbage that is produced. I expected more from the director of About a Boy. Disappointing.