A couple of times now I have seen something in downtown Dallas over the course of my travels. Something that has intrigued me, and made me wonder. Something that is not, for once, a bird.
It is Khaki Man.
That may or may not be an actual title that he uses. Who can be sure. But khaki he most certainly is. He wears a khaki colored shirt surmounted by a khaki colored jacket. His pants? Khaki. His socks? Visible because of the fact that his pants are also highwaters, khaki. His shoes, alas, are brown, but light brown.
I would have discounted my initial sighting as a fluke, but I have seen him in this ensemble since then. It doesn't appear to be a uniform, just his color preference. Perhaps he dreams of safaris? Perhaps he finds that getting dressed is easier if all articles of clothing are neutral? Who can say. All I know is that he walks with purpose, carrying his khaki messenger bag. And I salute him internally, for no other reason than appreciation for a rebel who revels in monotony of attire.
Random Link: Hmm... I sense a possible business opportunity...
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
In Honor of Classic Cinema
If all reviewers were this entertaining, the world would be a better place.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
What dreams may come
It is once again early in the AM, and I am again awake. I suppose I should congratulate myself on finally achieving a more rational sleep schedule, but instead there is mild annoyance that there is nothing for me to do except crave coffee. But that is not the purpose of this post, this is a post about a dream that is still lingering in my mind. A dream that featured none other than Jesse Bond.
This dream was very entertaining, as it was like watching a show with elements of That 70's Show, The Wonder Years, Dawson's Creek, and Gilmore Girls. However, the narrator's voice and style were Mr. JB. It was blog like in the telling, only about a life and people I'm pretty sure don't exist. Unless you know a tallish, sandy haired girl with a buzzcut decorated with a skunklike stripe named Chute. It occurs to me that there does exist a young man named Bird, but whether he was the same as the one in the dream, who knows.
The setting was an unknown college where JB was living in a dorm. It was told in first person. There were many other supporting characters whose names were too long and odd for me to recall. Where I recall it beginning was with a group of 4 girls who enter the story as they are ministering to all in the dorm on the importance of wearing shower footwear to avoid spreading or catching dreaded athlete's foot, which sparked a friendship. There were references to lovely young ladies. There was some kind of costume party where someone dressed as a tree in full fall color. There was dancing. There was copious swearing. There were firepits and beer. There was background music. Oddly, there were no bicycles.
Perhaps this is divine inspiration for an Emmy winning show? Perhaps not, but it was quality entertainment.
Random Link: This sounds like something I've done in the past.
This dream was very entertaining, as it was like watching a show with elements of That 70's Show, The Wonder Years, Dawson's Creek, and Gilmore Girls. However, the narrator's voice and style were Mr. JB. It was blog like in the telling, only about a life and people I'm pretty sure don't exist. Unless you know a tallish, sandy haired girl with a buzzcut decorated with a skunklike stripe named Chute. It occurs to me that there does exist a young man named Bird, but whether he was the same as the one in the dream, who knows.
The setting was an unknown college where JB was living in a dorm. It was told in first person. There were many other supporting characters whose names were too long and odd for me to recall. Where I recall it beginning was with a group of 4 girls who enter the story as they are ministering to all in the dorm on the importance of wearing shower footwear to avoid spreading or catching dreaded athlete's foot, which sparked a friendship. There were references to lovely young ladies. There was some kind of costume party where someone dressed as a tree in full fall color. There was dancing. There was copious swearing. There were firepits and beer. There was background music. Oddly, there were no bicycles.
Perhaps this is divine inspiration for an Emmy winning show? Perhaps not, but it was quality entertainment.
Random Link: This sounds like something I've done in the past.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Of Hobbits and Orangutans, part 2
Tomorrow night we're in for a treat, with the last full lunar eclipse for the next couple of years. So step outside between 7:30-9:30 CST or so, bring some friends, bring some beer, and enjoy the show.
This does make me recall that I never completed the tale started many months ago, of another stargazing event. Well, my friends, sit back and enjoy this second installment.
After dining at the Cosmic Cafe, we made our way to the northern realms of the DFW metroplex. There, I came across a fellow named Nick who I hadn't seen in... almost 10 years? Good lord... anyhow, Nick has been doing pretty well for himself, and hasn't changed much from what I could tell. Still into computers, games, and movies. A bit heavier than he was as a teen, but most of us are. There we shot the breeze in his living room (or is it a computer lab? Not sure) while we waited for the ridiculously late show to start. Alex participated by snoring quietly in a corner. As the time approached for us to head out further north to escape the light pollution and hopefully the clouds that were threatening to deprive our fun, the 3 of us (Kevin and Alex) packed some sleeping bags and took off to Lake Ray Roberts.
Why don't I do this more often? It was beautiful, and even better shared in the company of friends. It might have been nicer if I had taken some Zyrtec before we arrived, because shortly after I felt like I had an unlimited supply of snot and tears. I blame the ragweed. Undaunted, we lay on the grass, talked, snoozed a bit, and watched for shooting stars. We were rewarded.
As the sun rose and diminished our view of the sky, we hopped back into the car and drove to Denton, where we dined on bagels and coffee. And it was good.
This does make me recall that I never completed the tale started many months ago, of another stargazing event. Well, my friends, sit back and enjoy this second installment.
After dining at the Cosmic Cafe, we made our way to the northern realms of the DFW metroplex. There, I came across a fellow named Nick who I hadn't seen in... almost 10 years? Good lord... anyhow, Nick has been doing pretty well for himself, and hasn't changed much from what I could tell. Still into computers, games, and movies. A bit heavier than he was as a teen, but most of us are. There we shot the breeze in his living room (or is it a computer lab? Not sure) while we waited for the ridiculously late show to start. Alex participated by snoring quietly in a corner. As the time approached for us to head out further north to escape the light pollution and hopefully the clouds that were threatening to deprive our fun, the 3 of us (Kevin and Alex) packed some sleeping bags and took off to Lake Ray Roberts.
Why don't I do this more often? It was beautiful, and even better shared in the company of friends. It might have been nicer if I had taken some Zyrtec before we arrived, because shortly after I felt like I had an unlimited supply of snot and tears. I blame the ragweed. Undaunted, we lay on the grass, talked, snoozed a bit, and watched for shooting stars. We were rewarded.
As the sun rose and diminished our view of the sky, we hopped back into the car and drove to Denton, where we dined on bagels and coffee. And it was good.
Seasons of Love
So after about 50 years, Fidel Castro is out? Wow. Not what I expected to hear when I got up this morning.
Also not what I meant to blog about this AM, either. Lately have been pondering the nature of love quite a bit, and the myriad ways it can express itself, and why. Lately have wondered whether what I considered unconditional love is anything but.
There are a lot of people that I love, family and friends. Have I ever fallen in love? Pretty certain the answer to that is no. Or maybe I have, and I've been to dense to recognize it. Certainly not outside the realm of possibilities with me, but that annoys me even more.
So the questions I pose, how do you express love? How do you know when it's there?
Also not what I meant to blog about this AM, either. Lately have been pondering the nature of love quite a bit, and the myriad ways it can express itself, and why. Lately have wondered whether what I considered unconditional love is anything but.
There are a lot of people that I love, family and friends. Have I ever fallen in love? Pretty certain the answer to that is no. Or maybe I have, and I've been to dense to recognize it. Certainly not outside the realm of possibilities with me, but that annoys me even more.
So the questions I pose, how do you express love? How do you know when it's there?
Monday, February 18, 2008
Walking into the Irish sky
Go for a walk with me sometime, preferably out in the woods or country, or at least a nice park or neighborhood. You will notice something. Anytime a bird flies overhead, or something starts twittering in a tree, my gaze will shoot into the sky. I may or may not stop walking, and my conversation may or may not waver.
I'm not a hard core birdwatcher, but damn, I do enjoy it when I do. To be fair, I can get pretty easily distracted by other flora and fauna, but birds fascinate me. It might be the fact that they can fly, who knows for sure. At any rate, the prospect of seeing or hearing something unfamiliar makes me kind of giddy, and Ireland didn't disappoint.
So many birds, everywhere. Some I recognized from stories, some I had seen on nature documentaries in the past, and some were new to me, if not exactly a rarity in their home country. Driving along, one could open a window and hear them singing. I bought a book to help me name them. I even had a conversation with a rook who either found me personally intriguing or thought I had food, who knows.
I will probably never be the kind of person who travels somewhere just to see a new kind of bird, but you can guarantee that part of me will always be paying close attention whenever something darts across a patch of sky.
I'm not a hard core birdwatcher, but damn, I do enjoy it when I do. To be fair, I can get pretty easily distracted by other flora and fauna, but birds fascinate me. It might be the fact that they can fly, who knows for sure. At any rate, the prospect of seeing or hearing something unfamiliar makes me kind of giddy, and Ireland didn't disappoint.
So many birds, everywhere. Some I recognized from stories, some I had seen on nature documentaries in the past, and some were new to me, if not exactly a rarity in their home country. Driving along, one could open a window and hear them singing. I bought a book to help me name them. I even had a conversation with a rook who either found me personally intriguing or thought I had food, who knows.
I will probably never be the kind of person who travels somewhere just to see a new kind of bird, but you can guarantee that part of me will always be paying close attention whenever something darts across a patch of sky.
Friday, February 15, 2008
The Roundabout
This deserves to be mentioned on its own. Stoplights are not popular in rural Ireland from what I can tell. Instead, welcome to the roundabout.
...
I have too many mixed feelings about this, I don't think I can talk about it.
...
I have too many mixed feelings about this, I don't think I can talk about it.
Driving the Irish Countryside
I enjoy driving. When I was little, I used to be the shotgun rider at night when we did cross country marathon drives, and it was easy to pretend I was the one maneuvering through the dark. Fast forward a bit to current time, and now I usually don't even give anyone the option of being driver when there is any sort of carpool going on. So it's not unexpected that on the roads of Ireland, I was the one behind the wheel.
There are great things about driving in Ireland. The views are outstanding pretty much everywhere and other drivers are pretty friendly and courteous. However...
Ok, picture a typical road in America. A nice two laner, broad shoulders, clear road markings, usually pretty straight with good visibility, usually safe enough that even if you choose to go over the posted speed limit, even by a good 20 mph, you're not going to hurt anyone.
Let me paint you a picture. Take that road's width and halve it. Now paint a line down the center that may or may not always be visible. That shoulder? Downsize it to about 5 inches on both sides and add a 2-3 foot thick jagged stone wall on one side and a 7 foot tall hedge with branches reaching toward you. Add sharp turns every 500 meters or so, and make the speed limit 60 mph. For fun, let's have intermittent openings in the barriers that allow the occasional sheep or cow to stroll down the road. Stir in a couple of pedestrians and bike riders. Oh, and let's not forget random unmarked forks in the road every km or so. And you're driving completely opposite to what you've done for the last 11 years. Holy shit.
The good thing about this time of year is that there aren't that many tourists getting lost with you, but there is plenty enough traffic that you never know when someone might come barreling around a blind curve. I haven't prayed so much in years. Thank God for Amy being in the passenger seat, as she called out warnings on the multiple occasions that I nearly snapped a mirror off on a wall or ran a wheel into a ditch. Mostly helpful as well was our GPS device, although on occasion I'm pretty sure the people at Garmin were completely screwing with our minds by directing us through mile upon mile of picturesque but suicidally narrow gravel roads, only to find out upon looking at a physical map that there was a perfectly good highway a mile away. And that damn Garmin lady would harangue me every fucking time I took them, too, insisting I was actually driving through an unpaved cow pasture. Lady, you're wrong! Admit it!
There are great things about driving in Ireland. The views are outstanding pretty much everywhere and other drivers are pretty friendly and courteous. However...
Ok, picture a typical road in America. A nice two laner, broad shoulders, clear road markings, usually pretty straight with good visibility, usually safe enough that even if you choose to go over the posted speed limit, even by a good 20 mph, you're not going to hurt anyone.
Let me paint you a picture. Take that road's width and halve it. Now paint a line down the center that may or may not always be visible. That shoulder? Downsize it to about 5 inches on both sides and add a 2-3 foot thick jagged stone wall on one side and a 7 foot tall hedge with branches reaching toward you. Add sharp turns every 500 meters or so, and make the speed limit 60 mph. For fun, let's have intermittent openings in the barriers that allow the occasional sheep or cow to stroll down the road. Stir in a couple of pedestrians and bike riders. Oh, and let's not forget random unmarked forks in the road every km or so. And you're driving completely opposite to what you've done for the last 11 years. Holy shit.
The good thing about this time of year is that there aren't that many tourists getting lost with you, but there is plenty enough traffic that you never know when someone might come barreling around a blind curve. I haven't prayed so much in years. Thank God for Amy being in the passenger seat, as she called out warnings on the multiple occasions that I nearly snapped a mirror off on a wall or ran a wheel into a ditch. Mostly helpful as well was our GPS device, although on occasion I'm pretty sure the people at Garmin were completely screwing with our minds by directing us through mile upon mile of picturesque but suicidally narrow gravel roads, only to find out upon looking at a physical map that there was a perfectly good highway a mile away. And that damn Garmin lady would harangue me every fucking time I took them, too, insisting I was actually driving through an unpaved cow pasture. Lady, you're wrong! Admit it!
Thursday, February 14, 2008
The Short Story
Firstly, let me provide you with a map that you may choose to open in another window or tab to track the places I may mention. Any times mentioned will be in local times, so for your benefit Ireland is 6 hours ahead of CST. This is my organization post, and I intend to discuss many of these locales in more depth later. Don't think this is all the highlights, because how wrong you would be.
- Feb 6th: Departure from Dallas sometime after 5 pm. Tried to sleep, but chocolate covered espresso beans proved detrimental to this plan. Instead, played with fancy tv screens on plane, did sudoku, played Speed, etc.
- Feb 7th: Arrived in Dublin 12 noonish, got rental car, GPS, and basic map. Hit the road to Galway. Avoided death on roadways, very hard what with the flipped driving positions, lack of visible signage, missing road markings, and two way roads wide enough for one and a half vehicles. This would prove to be a recurring issue.
- Feb 8th: Happy birthday to me, drove to the Cliffs of Moher. Found out that the roadways from the day before were actually quite safe compared to other regions of Ireland, and now with occasional sheep strolling in the road. Drove to Adare. Had fun in a pub, and found out Harp isn't found everywhere but Bud Light is.
- Feb 9th: Awoke in Adare, minus cell phone apparently. Crap. Visited Limerick, discovered the O'Brien's chain of coffee/sandwich shops. Drove toward Kenmare, with a breather hike taken in Killarney National Park. Arrived in Kenmare, enjoyed our first afternoon tea. Found cell phone, yay!
- Feb 10th: Had first full Irish breakfast. Drove toward Cork, visited Blarney. Found a pay internet station in a tiny little restaurant, got a much needed Google fix. Proceeded to Cashel.
- Feb 11th: Had 2nd full Irish breakfast, without the black pudding. Drove into Waterford, and got to see the Waterford Crystal areas of production, and now understand why it's so freaking expensive. Drove to County Wicklow and our final B&B in the village of Laragh.
- Feb 12th: Ate delicious scrambled eggs courtesy of the B&B's resident hens, took quick detour through Kildare and then proceeded to Dublin, our final Irish destination. Saw a movie.
- Feb 13th: Came home.
I'm already home
Well, I'm home. Spent time making some important calls, and then fell into blissful slumber around 9 PM, which may explain why I'm up before the crack of dawn and feel so awake and craving a nice breakfast.
Ireland... it is beautiful. Whether we were on the coastline, climbing up a hiking path, or just driving from point A to point B, we could pretty much stop, take a picture, and it would look like a postcard. The small towns all look like they could be the set for a movie. Open up the window, and it sounds like one of those ambient CDs that are supposed to help you relax, with the sound of birds, running water, the wind, the waves. But you know what's incredible? It's real. I was there, I wasn't separated by a television screen or a stereo, I walked and drove through that land and I breathed its air. I will need to go back, and in fact I've been looking up information on study abroad programs. Ideally, I would love to attend a course on the natural history of Ireland, or perhaps an ornithology course, anything that would involve me mainly getting to study and learn in the field with minimal time in the classroom. I know it exists, because I can't be the only person who wants to be there and learn. It may not be this year, but this is now a real goal for me that I would like to complete within the next 5 years.
Ireland... it is beautiful. Whether we were on the coastline, climbing up a hiking path, or just driving from point A to point B, we could pretty much stop, take a picture, and it would look like a postcard. The small towns all look like they could be the set for a movie. Open up the window, and it sounds like one of those ambient CDs that are supposed to help you relax, with the sound of birds, running water, the wind, the waves. But you know what's incredible? It's real. I was there, I wasn't separated by a television screen or a stereo, I walked and drove through that land and I breathed its air. I will need to go back, and in fact I've been looking up information on study abroad programs. Ideally, I would love to attend a course on the natural history of Ireland, or perhaps an ornithology course, anything that would involve me mainly getting to study and learn in the field with minimal time in the classroom. I know it exists, because I can't be the only person who wants to be there and learn. It may not be this year, but this is now a real goal for me that I would like to complete within the next 5 years.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Completely reasonable expectations
I think I've got pretty much everything I need packed up or otherwise ready to go, and now I just have pre-travel giddiness to deal with. Blogging and some chill music I hadn't listened to in a long time are helping me along quite nicely, and hopefully sleep will follow soon.
In anticipation of this trip, I have been reflecting on the various depictions of Ireland and it's people that I have come across over the years. Leprechauns, specifically Lucky of Lucky Charms fame, may have been the first tainted view of Irish culture I could pinpoint. There could possibly be some old fairy tales (or "faerie", if you prefer) of predominantly Irish origins that came before, but which I certainly became familiar with during my folk tale obsession phase that occurred around the ages of 15-16, overlapping with my survival obsession. Any association? Probably, somewhere in my twisted mind.
According to what Hollywood and ad executives would have me believe, the following is what I can expect:
In anticipation of this trip, I have been reflecting on the various depictions of Ireland and it's people that I have come across over the years. Leprechauns, specifically Lucky of Lucky Charms fame, may have been the first tainted view of Irish culture I could pinpoint. There could possibly be some old fairy tales (or "faerie", if you prefer) of predominantly Irish origins that came before, but which I certainly became familiar with during my folk tale obsession phase that occurred around the ages of 15-16, overlapping with my survival obsession. Any association? Probably, somewhere in my twisted mind.
According to what Hollywood and ad executives would have me believe, the following is what I can expect:
- Bountiful quantities of red-headed, green clothes wearing chaps who will desperately protect their colorful marshmallows.
- Tricksters who will attempt to switch my baby (if I had one) with a centuries old, foul tempered, swearing elf and expect me not to notice.
- Beautiful singing men with sensitive souls who have sweet spots for quirky American girls.
- Boisterous singing men who will teach me raunchy pub songs.
- Potatoes everywhere.
- Nuns with rulers at the ready to rap the palms of any miscreants.
- Young boys running wild from the authorities on semi-wild horses.
- Red headed girls that I really don't want to piss off at the risk of being given a serious beat down.
We will have to see whether my sources are correct.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Leaving on a Jet Plane
Tomorrow there will be a plane flying to London in the late afternoon, and guess who's going to be hitching a ride? That's right, I'm making my second trans-Atlantic voyage less than 5 months after my last one. This time Ireland is the destination, and Amy is going to be there too. A week of driving through the country, drinking Harp and Guinness as they were intended to be enjoyed, and meeting some interesting people. If you would like a postcard, speak now and send me an address. You can try sending a text message on my cell if all else fails.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
What am I to you?
The last week was incredibly draining, mixed with some great times and hopefully strengthening some friendships. Be that as it may, yesterday I went on a date with a nice guy, this weekend I'm taking a road trip to Aggie town, and Wednesday I'm flying to Ireland with Amy (happy birthday to both of us!). Drama free fun, I'm all for that.
So, the date. Nothing steamy to talk about, so don't ask. However, he is funny, he's a younger man (23, am I robbing the cradle or what?), he has a nice beard, and he's really tall (6'3"). He's got some interesting friends, one of whom I met last night at an art show that was being held in a small vintage clothing store here in Dallas. Interesting pieces, and the shop itself is pretty cool, will need to go back and look around.
During the course of chatting after dinner, he mentioned that one of the reasons he approached me at karaoke a couple of weeks ago is that he felt there was a resemblance to Norah Jones, his one celebrity crush, and that he was impressed by my singing. I also learned that he came to the Tipp last Monday just to see if I was there. Ok, that's very sweet. I'm glad that I decided to give this guy a chance, even though my first reaction to him that first day was annoyance that someone would take our karaoke song book.
Besides having dark hair and eyes, I don't think NJ and I could be twins. However, the comparison has been made at least one other time by one of the pulmonary doctors I used to work with, and he even showed my parents a dvd of one of her concerts to illustrate his point. He's hilarious.
So who are your celebrity twins? I'm sure we all have one.
So, the date. Nothing steamy to talk about, so don't ask. However, he is funny, he's a younger man (23, am I robbing the cradle or what?), he has a nice beard, and he's really tall (6'3"). He's got some interesting friends, one of whom I met last night at an art show that was being held in a small vintage clothing store here in Dallas. Interesting pieces, and the shop itself is pretty cool, will need to go back and look around.
During the course of chatting after dinner, he mentioned that one of the reasons he approached me at karaoke a couple of weeks ago is that he felt there was a resemblance to Norah Jones, his one celebrity crush, and that he was impressed by my singing. I also learned that he came to the Tipp last Monday just to see if I was there. Ok, that's very sweet. I'm glad that I decided to give this guy a chance, even though my first reaction to him that first day was annoyance that someone would take our karaoke song book.
Besides having dark hair and eyes, I don't think NJ and I could be twins. However, the comparison has been made at least one other time by one of the pulmonary doctors I used to work with, and he even showed my parents a dvd of one of her concerts to illustrate his point. He's hilarious.
So who are your celebrity twins? I'm sure we all have one.
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