Monday, September 30, 2013

Change will come / Change is here*

Kafka’s “Metamorphosis” is the story of a man who wakes to find he’s transformed into a cockroach. It’s been decades since I read the tale and I don’t recall if it’s literal or figurative or what the symbolism of it is all about. I don’t recall details, only that main element.

Cockroach on a leaf. Get it? (Not my photo.)
I am not about to turn into a cockroach. But like the roach, I am a survivor. And while spring is the symbolic time of transformation, isn’t fall a perfect time to turn over a new leaf? Forgive the pun – I thought it was clever. So I am changing.

Saturday morning I went for a long run and cleared my head of some worries and nagging fears. At least they subsided for a few hours. OK, maybe it was only minutes. But the run helped. I had a blog all prepared about relationships – again, I know. I bought a notebook on the way to Amanda’s tennis meet in Monmouth so I could write what was swirling around in my mind. I wrote when she wasn’t playing, between games and while the girls were chasing loose balls off-court.  

Then I scrapped it. Not often that I do that. The creative process, the writing process, for me is cathartic only if there is an audience. Or at least it is more so when there is an audience. I like to think I’m not narcissistic, but who knows. Maybe anyone who blogs is a little.

Anyway, I’ve decided I need to release the fear, bury the insecurity and leave only the hope that was expressed in that fragment of a blog Saturday.  

Change has been / Change will be
 
Last week was step one: renewed commitment to running. Thanks to classmate Brian Bailey’s words about me being an inspiration to him as he strives to get back in shape. This morning’s run – which was at 8 a.m. – continues the commitment.

Starting last night I am controlling my drinking. It’s been off the tracks for a while. Bad metaphor – do we want drinking on tracks, like a runaway train? Anyway, I’ve been a mess. Time to straighten up. And as mentioned last week, I’ll combine that with my aforementioned efforts to eat better.

Know this: I will not be perfect. Nor will I strive for perfection. I will strive to be a better man, a better person. That’s not a copout. That’s a realistic approach to a realistic goal. I do this for me and I do it for others. I’m stating it publicly, so I guess I’d better live up to it.
 
Today's Stats (Monday, Sept. 30, 2013)
Temp: 47 degrees F
Distance:  5.77 miles
Weekly Total: 5.77 miles
Treasure: 27 cans.

iPod Playlist (Running mix, then Sweet WIU mix):
House of Pain – Van Halen
Everybody Wants to Rule the World – Tears for Fears
Just the Way You Are – Billy Joel
Taxman – The Beatles
Waking Up In Vegas – Katy Perry
Reunion – Collective Soul
Stay the Night – Chicago
Make Love Stay – Dan Fogelberg
Bad Reputation – Avril Lavigne
American Honey – Lady Antebellum
Gonna Make You Sweat – C+C Music Factory
The Ghost Song – The Doors
No Such Thing (Live) – John Mayer
Best of Times – Styx
Call And Answer – Barenaked Ladies
Ghost Train – Counting Crows
City Love (Live) – John Mayer

* Reunion (Collective Soul)
Change will come
Change is here
Love fades out
Then love appears
Now my water's turned to wine
And these thoughts I have
I now claim as mine
I'm coming home
Change has been
Change will be
Time will tell
Then time will ease
Now my curtain has been drawn
And my heart can go
Where my heart does belong
I'm going home

Today's Stats (Saturday, Sept. 28, 2013)
Temp: 62 degrees F
Distance: 7.07 miles
Weekly Total: 14.15 miles
Treasure: 2 cans (by my driveway); inner peace (really, though it was aided by a “good morning” text).

iPod Playlist (Running mix, then Sweet WIU mix)

Thursday, September 26, 2013

You're the Inspiration

You have to want to improve yourself for you. If your only motivation is external influences, you'll fail. Or at least you won't truly appreciate the effort. You’ll maybe even begrudge the work and the influence. But you can find inspiration in others, through their personal endeavors, for example.


I was even helpful, providing Brian with the link to a
Couch to 5K program for getting back into running.
I know I need to eat more healthy (healthily? Healthfully?). So I'm trying, with small success so far, but it helps to have friends who do it. Their successful efforts serve as an inspiration. And their cajoling and admonitions help, too. I suppose that's a little like an addiction recovery support system.

And you know what else helps? Being someone else's inspiration. We all know we influence our friends and family, to lesser and greater degrees. But we’re often not truly conscious of it. So we still curse in front of our children and fly into fits of road rage with our buddies in the car. But something changes when you become consciously aware of your influence on another person.

When my youngest daughter — then a toddler — responded to her mother's inquiry about my frustration with a home project using my own words, I took note. Not that I stopped entirely, but I tried to watch it.

“Dad's trying to fix the light switch goddammit shit,” she called earnestly and innocently as she made her way downstairs, one step at a time, kiddie-style.

Oops.

I've been inconsistent with my running for the past year-plus. So when I posted today's run on Facebook and received a nice comment from a high school buddy I sort of put myself on notice.

“You (are) starting to become an inspiration to me. I would like to run again, but so far, I do fast walks. I need to get in better shape and health. High School was soooo long ago!” wrote Brian Bailey.

Brian ran cross country at GHS back in the day (if you don't know when that was, I ain't tellin' — but he's right, it was soooo long ago). I can remember him in those grey sweats, all lean and wiry. Running was not my bag, baby. Not back then. So for Brian to say I am something of an inspiration to him, well, I feel I have to live up to the billing now. I need to be inspiring.

That means I need to keep it up. I’ve run twice this week. I used to do three runs a week like clockwork – Monday, Wednesday and Friday – and occasionally add a day. I need to return to that rhythm, whether it’s M-W-F or T-TH-S or whatever. I need three days a week. I need consistency. I need the freakin’ exercise. And I need to work on my nutrition.
 
Bleeding nipples. I also need Body Glide.
 I’ll keep ya posted.

Today's Stats (Thursday, Sept. 26, 2013)
Temp: 59 degrees F
Distance: 3.34 miles
Weekly Distance: 7.08 miles       
Treasure: 1 bloody nipple; inspiration; 24 cans.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle)
I Will - Matchbox Twenty
Come Go WithMe - Expose
We Will Not Be Lovers - The Waterboys
Rio - Duran Duran
One Tree Hill - U2
Alice - Avril Lavigne (I hope you get the PooPourri ad)
Breathe (In the Air) - Pink Floyd
Just StayHere Tonight - Augustana
Top Jimmy - Van Halen

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

You’re In Over Your Head...

The lyric is from the chorus to “You Run,” by The Call: 



Biking errands Tuesday.
 
“So you run and you run and you run and you never stop. / And you work and you work and you work until you drop. / You’re in over your head and the pressure just don’t quit. / But you can’t escape the reach of love.”

I think in a way the song is like Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall.” It’s about avoidance, seclusion, separation, retreat from society. It’s not really me, so I’m not sure why it stuck with me, why of all the songs in my playlists from Saturday and today it is the one that spoke to me. Maybe it’s the “run” in the title. Unlike “The Wall,” there is an underlying hope in “You Run,” or rather a message of hope to the subject of the song: You run, but you can’t escape the reach of love.

Again, not really my issue. I got no problem with love. At least in the sense of the lyrics of the song, which unfortunately are not out there on the Web like so many others, which means you’ll have to take my word for it, because I’m not about to transcribe the song for you. Well, maybe I will. We’ll see. This person is shut off from society, incapable of sharing love or accepting love. And yet, love finds him/her. Or at least love is there.  

I think the message is that you can try to wall yourself off for whatever reason, but others still will reach out to you with love and caring. You can run and work and flail under the pressures of life, but love will find you. And I’m mostly talking about that platonic, familial love. Agape, is it? The love of those who care about you. Separating it from the Christian definitions: “unselfish love of one person for another without sexual implications; brotherly love.
 
Ironically, my working title for this lyric-analysis blog was “The Doomed Traveler,” chosen because of the “Magic: The Gathering” card I found during Saturday’s run. The card reads: “When Doomed Traveler dies, put a 1/1 white Spirit creature todn with flying onto the battlefield.” A quote at the bottom reads: “He vowed he would never rest until he reached his destination. He doesn’t know how right he was.”

I knew of a traveler Saturday, and prayed no doom awaited. But I took the card as no omen. Simply an oddity among my many odd finds. My traveler, as it turns, was not doomed, but was beset with trial and tribulation. But the journey was made and all was good in the world. If I may be so hyperbolic. The working title was chosen before I knew what angle I would pursue. And I chose the lyric angle because I had nothing else. I happen to love the music of The Call. That’s all.

Note of explanation: I include 5 buckeyes in today’s treasures because I worried I might not find anything worthwhile on my run. My neighbor to the east has a buckeye tree, just as my folks do in the yard of my boyhood home, so I stopped to pick up a few before really getting going. Of course there’s a joke somewhere there with my name and poor vision. And the buckeye candy (peanut butter balls dipped in chocolate) is delicious. So it just seemed a good idea.
 
After finding the broken earbuds and the TSC scarf, I pitched the buckeyes into the yard when I got home. You’re welcome, squirrels.

Today’s Stats (Tuesday, Sept. 24, 2013)
Temp: 74 degrees F
Distance: 3.74 miles
Weekly Distance: 3.74 miles
Treasure: 1 Tractor Supply bandana triangle, red; 1 pair pink earbuds (broken); 1 makeup brush; 5 buckeyes; 3 cans.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle)
White Flag – Dido
New Deep – John Mayer
When Will You Come Back Home (live) – Ryan Adams
Radio – Matchbox Twenty
Everyone – Van Morrison
Let’s Be Friends (Skin to Skin) – Bruce Springsteen
Wrapped Around Your Finger – The Police
Bonus – C+C Music Factory
The French Inhaler (live) – Warren Zevon
 
Today's Stats (Saturday, Sept. 21, 2013)
Temp: 55 degrees F (69 after my shower)
Distance: 8 miles
Weekly Distance: 12.64 miles
Treasure: 1 eyeglasses soft case; 1 Magic: The Gathering Card, Doomed Traveler (in protective sleeve); 1 San Francisco 49ers helmet sticker;  1 dinner fork; 28 cans.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle)
Wish You Were Here – Pink Floyd
Busted – Matchbox Twenty
Caught Up In You - .38 Special
How Long – Matchbox Twenty
Welcome To The Machine – Pink Floyd
Red Barchetta – Rush
Raspberry Beret – Warren Zevon
A View To A Kill – Duran Duran
Push – Matchbox Twenty
If It Makes You Happy – Sheryl Crow
I Want Your Sex (Parts 1&2) – George Michael
Save A Horse/Ride A Cowboy (The Remix) – Big & Rich
Splendid Isolation – Warren Zevon
Thru' With The Two Step (Live in Houston) – Robert Plant
Heartland – U2
You Run – The Call
In The Air Tonight – Phil Collins
Dry River – James McMurtry

Friday, September 20, 2013

Love on the Run



It finally happened. The day I've been waiting for arrived shrouded in grey and dissipating mist. I found love on a run — literally. Out there on Saluda Road, just at the edge of town, my love was lying, broken, at the side of the road, not quite in the gutter, where broken love so often abides.

OK, so it was just a broken bracelet of copper beads and bling, but it fit the mood. The morning started with John Mayer's "Love Song for No One." Mayer is pining for someone, his unknown love.

"I'm tired of being alone, so hurry up and get here," he pleads. "… I'm not sure what I'm looking for; I'll know it when I see you," he concedes with confidence.

I've felt that way often. And there are times I've thought for sure I knew just what I was looking for. And yet, I don't believe in "types." Sure, some people have them. And maybe I have a "type," in the broad sense of the word (the pun was unintentional, but I refuse to change it — if you're offended, find another blog).

My friend Ryan wrote a song about his perfect girl and it was pretty specific: hair color, eyes, height. I'm not so refined. I like blondes. But I also like brunettes. And what beats a ginger (I can use that often pejorative term because I am one — look up the rules)? I prefer long hair, but I've gone for short hair, too. Tall? I'm 6 feet tall and not necessarily opposed to a taller woman. In college I dated a girl who barely cracked 5 feet (yes, she was also a college student my age).

"Are you a breast man or an ass man," I was asked by one woman.

"I'm a total package man," I replied honestly.

"Bullshit," she called.

Hey, it's a big world and everyone's looking for someone. Why limit your choices?

The criteria that count?

Attractiveness: There are a lot of variables in this one. It comes down to the overall package. What appeals to me might not appeal to Joe or Dave or whoever.

Intelligence: I've been accused of setting the bar too high, eliminating potential dates (when I was online) by weeding out those with poor grammar or spelling or who used all caps or all lowercase. Yeah, eventually we wouldn't be communicating via email/text so much, but a man's gotta have his standards.

Humor: I like funny. I'm funny. Just ask me. But there are different kinds of funny. Is your sense of humor dry, vulgar, silly, visual? It's nice to have someone who finds you funny and whom you find funny.

Character: We're talking commitment, dedication, loyalty, integrity, sincerity, humility. You know, character. Who isn't looking for that stuff?

Complementary: Not complimentary, one who compliments me, but one who complements me, completes me. That’s right, I buy into that feel-good “Jerry Maguire” B.S. So sue me. I know all about being a complete individual, and I am that. But that doesn’t mean one can’t be more complete. I want my cup to runneth over.

Well, for now I've got a busted bracelet. But that's a sign — a good one, I think.

Today’s Stats (Friday, Sept. 20, 2013)
Temp: 67 degrees F, and humid
Distance: 4.64 miles
Treasure: 1 "love" bracelet (copper beads and rhinestone bling); 1 aluminum pie pan; 20 cans. 

We have popcorn chicken and beer-can chicken, how
about beer-can pie to go with that?
iPod Playlist (Shuffle)
(I love his intro to the song.)
On The Run – Pink Floyd
All I Want Is You (live) – U2
Waiting For A Girl Like You - Foreigner
The Distance – Cake
If Ever You're In My Arms Again – Peabo Bryson
Wouldn't It Be Good – Nik Kershaw
Don't Say YouLove Me – Billy Squier
Prayer Of Saint Francis – Sarah McLachlan
Wrapped Around Your Finger – The Police
Mockingbird (live) – Ryan Adams
It's Coming Down – Cake
Any Time At All – The Beatles
Running From AnAngel - Hootie & the Blowfish


Thursday, September 12, 2013

Backpedaling to Hope

I spent the day Tuesday on the road and in the woods. That was pretty awesome. Thanks, Barb, for the push out the door.



You see, I've been having computer troubles and had intended to stay in out of the heat to work on my laptop. In hindsight, it would have been a frustratingly miserable day spent that way. But when I awoke mid-morning on my leisurely day off, I had a text from my friend Barb, to the effect of: "Put yourself out in the universe today, Mr. Buck. Do something you don't usually do."

Barb's been following that advice for a while now, making excursions to wilderness areas and state parks in Illinois, Iowa and Wisconsin. Sometimes she goes alone, sometimes she asks a friend to tag along. That I did a few weeks ago when she decided to visit nearby Argyle Lake State Park near Colchester. One of her first solo adventures was a day hike through Blackthorn Hill Nature Preserve southeast of Alexis.

It seemed the best way to really make it an adventure would be to bike to the wooded prairie northwest of town. I was pretty sure I knew how to get there, but I stopped at the newspaper office to double check a county map. Yep, Angling Road is reached via South Lake Storey Road. Well, as is my habit lately, I didn't read closely enough. Should have made note of just where that turnoff is.



Is that a blackthorn? Fits the name anyway.
As it turned out, my initial hunch was correct — turn north at Hope Cemetery, just west of Lake Storey. But I don't always follow my hunches. I thought perhaps it was a little farther along County Highway 31, so I kept on pedaling. Then I passed another cemetery and I began to think maybe I was wrong. When finally I hit 130th Street (Warren County Road 1300E), and nothing but cornfield stretched into the distance all around — most notably to the northwest where Blackthorn Hill should lie — my idiocy was confirmed.

I paused at the intersection, standing beside my Schwinn World in the blazing sun, and texted Barb.

"Pretty sure the turn for Angling Road is at Hope Cemetery. I'm at 130th Street. Do I need to go back?"

Four minutes and no reply. I knew the answer already. I returned to Hope Cemetery. Stopping to check for confirmation from Barb on my directions, I indeed received the text I was hoping for. North I rode.

Soon I was there. I locked my bike to a sign, swigged some water and wandered around the entrance area, checking out the water spigot and the welcome/sign-in kiosk. Then I hit the trail. It felt a little like being back at Fellheimer Scout Reservation, the former Prairie Council BSA camp near Gilson now the Seventh Day Adventists's Camp Akita



The entrance is near a residence and an unimproved road leads to a clearing with a picnic shelter and cinder-block bathrooms and eventually the trailhead. The shelter is nicely outfitted with wooden chairs and table/benches that were built by Samuel C. Johnson, Troop 4242, Abingdon, for his 2012 Eagle Scout project. Given that it was an Eagle project, Sam undoubtedly didn't perform all the labor himself. It's a nice, useful project.


If memory serves, Blackthorn Hill is the brainchild of Opal Murray, who now serves on the board of Western Illinois Nature Group, the outfit that oversees the preserve. My recollection is that Opal led the charge to find an alternative camping spot for local Girl Scouts when the Mississippi Valley Girl Scout Council closed whatever official camp was nearby. Thus Blackthorn was born. And WING came about as a means of stewardship for the property. At least that's how I think it happened.

I had no idea how it's developed over the years. There are bunkhouses and the aforementioned cinder-block outhouse. Rain barrels are located at the bunkhouses and the picnic shelter, which is pretty clever. 



Anyway, I wandered the trails and admired nature. I was treated to a brief glimpse of a pair of turkeys as I rounded a bend and looked down the trail, and when I finally found a stream with water in it I was awed to see two turkey vultures fly over it from opposite directions.

Then I got lost. Not terribly and not for long, and I wasn't exactly alarmed. But I did manage to freak myself out for a short time when I started hearing twig-snaps and leaf-rustles that seemed disconnected from any obvious animals. My mind wandered to Stephen King and "The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon." Good God, what unseen, otherworldly demon is stalking me?

I headed uphill from the stream until I found a faint trail that was soon confirmed by the appearance of a green-and-yellow-topped 2-by-4 stud pounded into the ground. After 90 minutes of meandering I decided it was time to head home. Daughter Amanda, a junior at Monmouth College, had a tennis meet at 4 against rival Knox College and I wasn't really sure how long the ride home would take — especially since I did a few extra miles on the outbound trip.



I did find a race or car show T-shirt along the road on the return trip, but after a couple minutes of picking burrs off it I saw there were some holes in the front that would render it unwearable. I left it in the grass and gravel and continued home. After a cold sweet tea and a couple of cookies at McDonald's I continued to Knox to catch some tennis. Wrapped it all up with a few hours in the company of my youngest daughter, who did her match homework while I battled the laptop and then practiced her saxophone for a few minutes before it was time for her to go home.

All in all, a pretty good day.


Today’s Stats (Tuesday, Sept. 10, 2013)
Temp: Hot (high of 94, but there was a nice breeze)
Distance: 30 miles

iPod Playlist (Shuffle - Listened only on the ride to Blackthorn Hill)
The Stranger – Billy Joel
Shoot To Thrill – AC/DC
Long Day – Matchbox Twenty
Rest Stop – Matchbox Twenty
When I Get Home – The Beatles
When You Got A Good Thing – Lady Antebellum
Out Here In The Middle – James McMurtry
Stuck In The Middle With You – Stealers Wheel
I’m Goin’ Down – Bruce Springsteen
I Will – Matchbox Twenty
Into The Fire – Bruce Springsteen
Tom Jimmy – Van Halen
Split Screen Sadness – John Mayer
Migra – Santana
Live Happy – C+C Music Factory
Ungodly Hour – The Fray
Running To Stand Still – U2
Can’t Fight This Feeling – REO Speedwagon


How Far We’ve Come – Matchbox Twenty
The Rising – Bruce Springsteen
Passenger Seat – Death Cab For Cutie
Wind Snacks (chatter) – Ryan Adams
Facts of Life – Billy Squier
Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl) – Looking Glass
Werewolves Of London (live) – Warren Zevon
The Man Who Couldn’t Cry – Louden Wainwright III
Speak To Me – Pink Floyd
Love Bites – Def Leppard
You’re The Inspiration – Chicago
Clocks – Coldplay
Don’t You (Forget About Me) – Simple Minds
Piano Man – Billy Joel
I Wanna Be A Cowboy – Boys Don’t Cry
Rock The Boat – Hues Corporation (Must see! Check out the groovy outfits and smooth dancing.)
Sleeping At The Wheel – Matchbox Twenty
All Your Reasons – Matchbox Twenty
Runnin’ With the Devil – Van Halen
Tender Is The Night – Jackson Browne
There Goes The Fear – Doves
The Night Is Still Young – Billy Joel
Searching For A Heart (live) – Warren Zevon


From Monday's Run
Today's Stats (Monday, Sept. 9, 2013)
Temp
: 72-78 degrees F
Distance: 3.91 miles
Weekly Total: 3.91 miles
Treasure: 1 penny; 1 white wash cloth; 1 GM hubcap (Oldsmobile); 13 cans.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle):
Seven Bridges Road – The Eagles
Beautiful – Christina Aguilera
Cinema – Yes
Superman – Five For Fighting
I Believe (When I Fall In Love It Will Be Forever) – Stevie Wonder
Girls On Film – Duran Duran
Roland Chorale (live) – Warren Zevon
Downbound Train – Bruce Springsteen
The Long And Winding Road – The Beatles
Same Old Lang Syne – Dan Fogelberg
Little Wing – Sting
Rhinestone Cowboy –Glen Campbell
Two Steps Behind (Acoustic Version) – Def Leppard

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Rock'n the Competition

I met some competition on the road today. Actually he was on the sidewalk – along the W.C. Jackson Memorial Bridge to be exact. I experienced a strange sensation when I saw him ahead of me as I started the climb. At first I was annoyed that someone might be blocking my path. He was, after all, walking, pushing a bicycled with a trailer in tow. I soon realized who it was: a guy from my church who pedals his rusty old cruiser around, hauling a trailer with a plastic bin on the back, picking up cans.

Can Man pulls away, temporarily.
Then the competitor in me rose up. Can collecting is my bag, baby. I have a friggin’ blog about it, for chrissakes. That gives me some sort of right, right? Those cans out there are mine, unless I don’t see ‘em, in which case they’re up for grabs. But this guy was in my territory. Not that I’ve expressly established that – or have I? I mean, I haven’t peed on trees and lamp-posts in the area, but I’ve blogged about my routes. Surely everyone knows what I do and where I go. The gall of that guy, coming into my ’hood and taking my trash.

Well, as it happened, I realized there’s plenty to go around. And I think this guy relies on the income from cans more than I do. So I decided to play fair. As he stopped to pick up a can – the second I’d seen him nab – I trotted around his wagon and continued on. I passed on the first can I saw on the downward side of the bridge. That one’s his, I said to myself. The next two were mine. Sorry, pal, it pays to be speedy. Ha! Not that I am speedy. In reality, I knew our routes would soon diverge and he would see plenty of cans that I wouldn’t and vice versa.

Soon I crossed to the south side of Third Street to run against the flow of traffic, as you’re supposed to do, and thus began the can collecting in force. Picking up cans – and other stuff – during a run is a mixed blessing. It’s great to have something about which to write and it’s great to clean up the community, even if only a little. And the brief respite every time I stop to collect a can or cloth or wrench or whatever is truly rejuvenating. But it’s also an interruption to my pace. It feels a little like a cheat. And so I cheated about 80 times today. Actually it was more than that.

To extend the roughly 4.5-mile route that takes me across the County 10 bridge and back via Saluda Road, I continued east from the bridge along County Highway 10 to County Road 500 East, which becomes Farnham Street in town, and made my way back west to home along Fifth Street. Once on the bridge I had to stop to extract a big rock from the tread in the heel of my left shoe. Twice more on County 10 between Seminary and CR500E I had to do so again. Lots of big gravel along that road, and a rather narrow shoulder, which forced me into the ditch several times as big trucks sped toward me. Seemed the prudent course of action.
 
Some clever 49ers fan on Fifth Street near Day Street
expresses his or her love of team for all to see.
I’ve never had to deal with rocks in my tread before. And I don’t like feeling as if I’m a nuisance to traffic, though I get over that quickly. Not sure I’ll do that route again. Easy enough to modify it and get the same distance without the headaches. There is a nice stretch along CR500E, though. All in all it was a great run and I gathered the second highest total of cans since I’ve been doing this. FYI: 75 cans is about 2 pounds, which at the current rate equals about 70 cents. If Illinois had a deposit container law, those same cans could be worth as much as $7.50. In that case, maybe there wouldn’t have been so many out there. Think about it, Illinois.

Today's Stats
Temp: 69 degrees F
Distance: 6.36. miles
Weekly Total: 6.39 miles
Treasure: 1 BNSF Working Board Report dated Aug. 25; 1 dish cloth (white with purple and green); 75 cans (second highest total ever).
 
iPod Playlist (Shuffle):
The Difficult Kind – Sheryl Crow
Africa – Toto
Maria Maria – Santana Feat. The Project G&B
Rosanna – Toto
Big Shot – Billy Joel
Nobody’s Home – Avril Lavigne
Time – Hootie & The Blowfish
Harder Now That It’sOver (live) – Ryan Adams
Tom Sawyer – Rush
Jack And Diane – John Mellencamp
Bad Woman Blues – Trampled Under Foot
Out Here in the Middle – James McMurtry
Heartbreak Warfare – John Mayer
God Part II (live) – U2
Brother Louie – The Stories
Need You Now – Lady Antebellum
Shame – Matchbox Twenty
Money – Pink Floyd
Snowblind – Rob Thomas
Don’t Pull Your Love(Out) – Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds
Caught Up In You - .38 Special
Running From An Angel – Hootie & The Blowfish

Monday, September 2, 2013

“Faded love and faded memories …”



Nineteen eighty-four was truly a banner year. I traveled to England with my high school band, earned the rank of Eagle Scout, turned 18, worked my first of two summers on staff at Philmont Scout Ranch and entered college. Of all those milestones, a case could be made that Philmont left the strongest impression. I’d been there three times as a camper, but there’s nothing like spending nearly three months in a magical place that’s touched your soul.

From left: Me, Ken, Mark, Bill, John and Matt. (Cattle skulls anonymous.)
I had yet to fall seriously in love for the first time. Sure, I’d had junior high and high school crushes, but I never dated. My weekends were spent playing Dungeons &Dragons with friends and performing in the pep band for GHS basketball games. Still, I had a romantic heart and love songs  spoke to me, even if I had no experience in that realm. Listening to the Oak Ridge Boys singing about a broken old cowboy lost in lonesome reverie at the Y’all Come Back Saloon or encouraging a lover to sleep peacefully amid dreams of a heavenly future only fed my fantasies of love.

Packing up Molly at the end of the season.
The official program at Abreu camp was three-pronged: adobe brick-making, burrow packing/racing and the cantina. The latter was my purview. I had a hand in the other activities, as the Cantina del Duke was only open for a few hours in the afternoon and a few in the evening, leaving time for teaching scouts how to mix water, dirt and straw in proper proportions to form solid, sun-dried adobe bricks. Such bricks had been used to build the cantina and those produced that summer went into an addition on the east end of the one-room saloon that had been begun some years before. I’m not sure if our work was sub-par or if the plans changed, but I think the addition was scrapped sometime later. Guess I need to investigate that further.

Cantina del Duke with the addition under way.
Besides the official program activities, we added some fun of our own. We challenged crews to Wiffle ball games – we always won, even if it meant dragging games out countless innings ’til we finally had more runs. Afternoons in the cantina could be slow, so squirt-gun fights occasionally broke out. I believe the first was initiated by some scouts who liberated my pistol during a contest of marksmanship that involved shooting paper cups off the bar. They thought they had got the better of me, but I had a secret weapon: The pump-action backpack sprayer for fighting backcountry fires rested just outside the cantina by the brick-making tools. That baby was the original Super Soaker! Peace through superior firepower.

Nighttime in the cantina was livened up with a little activity we called the chuggin’ contest. We’d call for contestants and then line up a row of pitchers filled with root beer. Let me just say it’s a good thing we had a sawdust floor in that place. But what a riot that was! And the scouts loved it. We may have received one or two complaints from scoutmasters upset about their boys barfing the night before a long, hot hike, but most got a kick out of it.

I’m thinking we closed the cantina at 9 so crews could hit the sack. We didn’t have a campfire program. So, to unwind after closing I’d join the rest of the staff (Bill, Mark, Matt, John and Ken) in the cabin where we’d listen to music and shoot the bull. In heavy rotation were cassettes of the “Oak Ridge Boys Greatest Hits:Volume 1” and Alabama’s “Mountain Music” and “Roll On.” Turned out my dad had two of those in his collection, so they joined me at Western Illinois University when I started there just a couple days after finishing up at Philmont in late August.

We’d sing along, doing our best to mimic that beautiful baritone on “Dream On.” And Bill would play air drums during the break in “Mountain Music,” grinning ear-to-ear just as he recalled Michael Martin Murphey doing during a performance of “Carolina in the Pines” at a Philmont staff function some previous year. I was enthralled to know Murphey had played a select show for the staff. I only knew him for “Wildfire” at that point, but my exposure to Murphey’s music through Philmont broadened my horizons and I bought “Blue Sky - Night Thunder” when I returned to civilization. I’ve since acquired a greatest hits collection, which serves me well.

So, the banner year. As I’ve explained, my job at Abreu was officially cantina manager. Whoa! Management position right off? And in the backcountry! Not sure how impressive that is, but I thought it was pretty cool at the time. Still do, for that matter. That meant slingin’ root beer and hawking chips. The root beer – Fanta by Coca-Cola – sold for 35 cents a cup and $1.50 a pitcher. The chips – Funyons, Ruffles, Cheetos, Doritos, Fritos and the like – were also 35 cents, I think. I kept inventory and sales records for the summer and I recall totaling somewhere over $13,000 in sales. That’s a lot of root beer and chips.

Well, between my sales and the revenue generated in the cantina and trading post at Ponil, the trading posts at Baldy Town, Ute Gulch and Phillips Junction and the trading post and snack bar in base camp, the Philmont trading post system generated more than $1 million in sales that summer.  It was a milestone worthy of celebration. In recognition of the sales feat, I was rewarded with a sweet little Buck Gent lockblade pocket knife, engraved with my name, “Banner Year” and “1984” on one side of the stainless steel handle. On that scale was an image of the Philmont bull; on the other, a rendering of the Tooth of Time.

This prize was entirely unexpected. I carried it in my pocket for a short while, but the wear diminished the clarity of the bull and Tooth images, so I decided it was better kept in storage. It remains boxed, one of my most treasured keepsakes.

PHILMONT PLAYLIST
Mountain Music - Alabama
Seven Bridges Road – The Eagles
Ghostbusters – Ray Parker Jr.
Music Time (live) - Styx
Slew Foot – James McMurtry
Snowblind (live) - Styx
Y’all Come BackSaloon – The Oak Ridge Boys
Carolina In ThePines – Michael Martin Murphey (Check out that grin.)


Dream On (SingleVersion) – The Oak Ridge Boys