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Sunday, Nov. 3, 96: Pamela and I rode our bicycles up to the Georgetown Flea market to meet Marjorie, Pamela's mom. We wandered around in the sunny aisles. I got caught up in what looked to be someone's belongings from the 1920's. I find silly little day-to-day stuff from someone's workaday life from the past so fascinating. Trinkets found in that kitchen "junk drawer" everyone has. Little tools that I ponder over just exactly what their use was. I then ran into a colleague from my NASA Headquarter's days. Shayna had set up a booth to sell off some stuff collecting dust. The last time I talked to her it was over two years ago when I was comtemplating an engagement ring for Pamela. It was so great to meet up and now we were both set in our relationships. All that contemplation of spending the future together with someone was now settled for both of us. I very much enjoy married life.
The flea market itself was slim pickin's so Pamela, Marjorie and myself took our bicycles down to the Cresent trail to see the seasonal changes. I so enjoy having regular places that I can re-visit on a periodic basis to re-center my chi. One of the first places I remember having this power is Todd Sanctuary, about twenty minutes from my folks place. The Cresent trail is one of them for me now. It provides such great imagery to allow me to keep things in proper perspective. It is a paved "Rails-to-Trails" bicycle/ blader/runner trail that was once a narrow gauge rail line. It runs from Georgetown to Bethesda, MD paralleling the Potomac river and C&O Canel for a bit, then curves off in an cresent around the Northwest corner of DC.
I love how my periodic visits to these cherished places show me life as a continium. Riding along the trail, the different shades of the fabric of life show as a web of light and shadow as one moves under the tree canopy. It's so interesting that one doesn't notice it explicitly since all concentration is on the task of the moment, riding, but it is seen more in the mind's eye as one reflects on the ride at a later time. The subtle changes in one's life are not unlike the way the trail changes its look at different times of the year or even the day. I find it facinating how the laws of supply and demand are so poigniantly illustrated with sun and shade, depending on the season. How in the summer we seek out the elusive shade and in the winter we then strive to be bathed in the few glimpes of sunlight. I'm always in awe that many day-to-day rides on the trail usually blend into one collective image: I can recall the light, the trees, the breeze of the trail but nothing of what I did before and after I was there on any given day. I can't even recall what day they were or exactly who was with me on a given day; it all runs together like water colors.
We rode from the Georgetown end up to the water works then headed back. Pamela was still adjusting to the chilly weather riding so she had a bit of a headache not unlike when one eats ice cream too quickly. I've spent so many years in the saddle so I could always ride on, but when we ride together, I feel its an outing to enjoy the surroundings and the riding together, so we headed back. Marjorie just finished her first century a few weeks ago and she was on her brand new ultralightweight hybrid, so she was ready to run. Pamela's mountain bike tires are those large knobbys that have large rolling resistance, so we let Marjorie zoom ahead. We figured we'll catch her later. Everybody's zen experience on a bicycle is different, so I figure it's best to let it just happen in a way that keeps all of us happy.
Tuesday, Nov. 5, 96: Well, the weather has finally become November-ish, in a DC kinda way. That means not overly gray, not overly cold, just brisk for now. Still good motorbiking weather although I have to fix a small fuel line leak before getting on the road again. I'll do that tonight because the weather is expected to be quite nice for the next couple days.
So I'll vote this evening. Not much of a contest, I believe, but its my chance to have my say and I cherish that as I get older.
Wednesday, November 13, 96:"Better living through Chemistry," this old DeadHead says, I recently told my old colleague and dear friend Atlanta Wendy. I was referring to her pain relievers since she just went through some surgery. She came through with flying colors so that's great.
Not much new here, the weather has turned cold here, biting but not bitter cold, yet. Makes me miss the fireplaces I've had in my previous apts. All except the gas-fired one, it didn't have much personality. But its been sunny and the weather is supposed to be moderate this weekend. The cold weather is always an excuse for my favorite activity (or lack thereof), that being PB & J(Pamela, Bootie and John) under the comforter watching movies and being nappy.
We've got a Shuttle launch coming up Friday. I don't trust those nozzle joint O-rings but everyone says its O.K. to fly. I guess if its not cold in Florida, I'll feel O.K. We've got just one small experiment on this mission but we're gearing up for some big activity next year. In addition, if the Space Station assembly schedule slips (as its expected to do, Russian hardware is way, way late), our flight opportunities will be much higher than projected with short turn-around times because NASA won't want the Shuttle under-utilized at all. That would be good for our small payload world. What still amazes me is that this MARS experiment that was just launched on a Delta II rocket last week will cost $150 Million cradle-to-grave and will get oodles of data (given it doesn't get "eaten by Martians" like the MARS Observer did) back to Earth. Shuttle missions cost on the order of half a billion. Why we don't send probes off to the planets more often amazes me. Its so much cheaper. I can't wait until they finally start building Space Station Alpha, but who knows when?
Friday, November 15, 96: Its been a a little while so I wanted to catch us all up with my rapidly paced life here in:
POLI-(short for police state, more cops per capita here than in those Commie countries probably)
TIC-(short for the parasitic lifestyle of the staffers and the alligator-heeled influence peddlers sucking off the teet of our tax revenue here)
AL(short for all the AnaL-retentive yuppies here that know no real life and work their fingers to the bone contributing nothing to the GNP)
CITY, that mid-Atlantic swamp of Washington, DC:
The weather is brisk today becoming biting tonight (as in, this bites not living in CA). We had snow showers all day yesterday without accumulation. I like it best that way because I love it falling but would never consider something so esoteric as riding a freezing chair to fall back down a mountain in the stuff at $40/day plus equipment. Yet another MTV sport activity I could be hopelessly mediocre at. I guess I'm just scared to look the fool. The snow is so helpful to the commuting process here in a town already brimming with overly-courteous, attentive drivers.
Married life has been great. Nice to have my mate of all time next to me and not have any questions of the future together.
My work has been great in that they continue to dole out the direct deposit bi-weekly so I can keep up with my AMEX bills and the Civil Space-Industrial complex continues to provide what the little guy who was all ears said were white-collar welfare positions for us eng-o-nerds.
Well, darkness is descending so I want to get and try my car before the parking is empty. When that happens, I can't beg some kind soul (who can't refuse me because they know me) for a jump if the battery doesn't turn the starter over. Being the rocket scientist I am, I did park in the spot with the highest gravitational potential so as to transfer the vehicle's momentum via the directly engaged synchronized power train into the rotational energy required to initiate the internal combustion process in the engine, in the event the stored energy in the electrochemical conversion solution is insufficient to provide the inductive electromotive force required. In other words, I'll roll start the frigging thing down the hill if the battery don't kick it. But now you'all get to see how enjoyable it is to hear us rocket scientists talk all day long. You'd think if I was so smart, why didn't I see all this joy coming back in my Penn State days when all the Philosophy majors were contemplatively arguing their way into coeds beds while I was geeking hard and heavy in the engineering library. Oh the secrets of the ages, all revealed at a later date.
Our friends Matt and his wife Mercedes live in the town home to Netscape. Yet another Silicon Valley town now written into history. This one as a destination of departure, from our PC into the future of communication. Ironic that only part of the television "machine" that made into this age of true self-education and active enrichment is the picture tube itself.
Well, I can speak from on-the-job experience that anything resembling a Space Camp is no Jellystone. At least that's what its like when a 5,000 lb. experiment you sweated over for more than a year proceeds to nearly poke a hole in the one of the most critical structural members of the Orbiter's wings upon its installation. This agony is all because some overworked engineer "forgets" to look at the drawings you poured over for absolute accuracy before he installs the incorrect payload retention device. I hate when that happens. I say stick to the fine arts.
So the temp is plummeting after a fifty-ish day in bright sunshine. I had my West-facing window blind open to the top to drink in the sun today to avoid ill-effects of solar deprivation.
The other evening the clouds did that thing where they reflect the refraction of the sunlight at low angles to the horizon and over a two-minute or so span, white puffs suddenly turned brilliant orange red (you know, like that color in the 48 pack with the sharpener in the back; the one that I always broke my pencil off in), the tiny wisps of water vapor muting the bright blue reflection of the ocean's light painted above my head.
Looking at this scene in November, I really sense the sun running away from us in these colder climates. I remember the joy of catching a 5:15pm Western Airlines flight out of Salt Lake City in December in the 80's and heading on a vector toward that burning ball of fusion to the coast. The plane pointed straight at it. it was evident by the sun's direct rays beaming in through the airliner's windows in long streaks aligned nearly directly with the aisles. I reflected on how well these rays fit as the antethesis of those dreaded long shadows of ourselves near winter solstice in the fleeting daylight hours.
But what made me feel closer to the sun than those five miles of altitude from the earth's surface? Was it that 0.5 Mach change in relative velocity with respect to the sun's dinural departure? Perhaps it was the destination, knowing I was emerging from the lifelessness of the Mormon culture headed to where my senses could allow themselves to re-awaken and soften from the hard crust Utah living put on them.
Well, yesterday (11/14) we had an all day dusting of snow flurries that quit about 4:00PM and were gone by dusk. But not their effects on commuting, mind you. It was so nice to see that special swirl of gray and white mixed in the soft light aloft that an episode falling frozen precip gives us.
Well, we're just dig in here on Friday night basking in the glow of the 90's replacement to the Kerosene space heater, the 17inch CRT. I've been updating my page here and there, adding more dizzying animation and cute sounds, in addition to adding snipits of my personality that the written page always uniquely captures.
Monday, November 18, 96: Our weekend was nice but we didn't do much. Friday night we laid low, Pamela watched "Millennium" and I surfed. I can't watch that show, it's too true to the prophetic end of the world and I also get too scared about what is going to happen to the main character's wife and child.
Bright and early at 1:00PM Saturday morning we met Bob at Java House, our favorite little coffee house in the neighborhood at 17th and Q across from Trio's, that greasy spoon and pizza joint. We then wandered up Connecticut Ave. shopping with Bob to vicariously enjoy spending since we are both so broke.
The "core" group, (sans Jill) Pamela and I, Serena and hubby Michael, Val, Bob and Serena's friend Ellen all went out to dinner Saturday at Lauriol Plaza, that great festive Mexican restaurant at 18 and S in Dupont Circle. Before dinner, Bob, Pamela and I stopped at the Fox and Hounds (the Box of Clowns) to grab an early cocktail. After dinner, we took a stroll down 17th Street. We ended up at Pepper's at 17th and Q to see our favorite bartender, Russell. There we ran into Craig and JB, a couple of the many friends we got to know through Mile's, who we also got to know from our regular jaunts into that crazy, sexually ambiguous night spot we love for its many character flavors.
We went with JB and Craig over to Trumpet's, one of the "boy's" night spot's in the basement at 17th and Q, next door to Java House. There we saw our friends Nef (short for Neffertieri) and our dear friend Blaine who lives in South Beach now. It was nice to see them, they are such gentle spirits. I miss the great haircuts Blaine used to give me when he worked at Bogart's over in Georgetown. Life in Miami Beach is treating him well, it seems. How could it not?
I slept on and off Sunday until 4:00PM so I was pretty much a slug. I guess I missed a fairly nice day, weather-wise. I say a day sleeping is never a day wasted. I drifted in and out while watching MTV's fashion marathon then we got dinner soup and sandwiches at Prego and watched the X-files.
It's been unseasonably warm and at least partly sunny here so that's a break. I don't mind skirting through with a mild Autumn, there's enough time for plenty of nasty weather to come, I'm sure.
I want to acknowledge four birthdays on today, November 18th. In 1928, Mickey Mouse was conceived on a cartoonist's drawing board, how people can say that about themselves? On the exact same day in Pittsburgh, PA, the most important man in my life was born, my Dad. This birthday is especially precious since my Dad has recently begun a battle with colon cancer. His prognosis is currently good so my family is thankful for this birthday and everyday with him.
Two other friends share this birthday, my friend and fellow Lithuanian, Margaret, and everybody's friend, the famous author, Robert G.
Friday, Nov. 22, '96: So, will T-day be taking you home or on the road this year? Please write and tell me your stories. I'll post them if you like. I spend mine with Pamela's folks here in the DC area so its great. No trips home to Pittsburgh on
USAgony or fighting the deer hunter traffic or the many, many western PA
transplants living in the DC area on the PA Turnpike. Pamela and I go up
there at Christmas. Its always so cold and bleak there then, however. Pamela
and I both grew up celebrating the gift giving part of Xmas. This year we're a bit too strapped after the honeymoon to exchange gifts this year, so
it will have to be in other ways. That's OK!
I'm just not much of a fan of these medieval replacement holidays for those
good ole' pagan rites of passages every season. My heritage is Lithuanian,
and, as I understand it, they were the last people on the European continent to be converted to
Catholicism somewhere around 1,000AD. Their language is based in Sanskrit (no
Germanic roots here), there were rumors of cannibalism practiced against
their foes in the Polish Empire in the Middle ages and they have a museum
dedicated to Satan in their capital, Vilnius. So although my mom took us to
her Methodist church as kids, I do not subscribe to any particular religion.
I have my spiritual beliefs, but I don't believe in the need of any congregation or any interceding human to be able to commune with the Supreme Being or
life-force or Great Spirit or chi or whatever it is that makes us feel better
when we choose to commune with it. So,...what was the point of this
diatribe?...oh ya, Christmas is not worth all that stress that America
seems to wrap itself in. Once again, kill your TV! That's where
this artificial pressure came from, the devil-incarnate, advertising.
I used to love being in San Francisco for Xmas day, all hushed and quiet in the City except when I'd walk into Chinatown, just another day
there! It was always so nice to escape to the warmth of the West Coast when I lived in the Rockies. I would see all the Californians arriving skis in hand at Salt Lake airport as I was headed to their Golden
state.
Oh well, instead I'll just have visions of my VISA and Mastercard bills
dancing in my head this year.
Monday, Nov. 25, '96: Here we are at Thanksgiving week, so, will it take you on the road or are you cooking the bird this year? I can't wait to have kids so we can have a household that will be the center of so much life and liveliness, so we may supply the kitchen that everyone will be gathering in that day.
On the subject of starting a family, I think we'll spend next year getting the credit card debt cleaned up, then buy a place, then we'll get busy! Its still sorta crappy having to deal with getting off the arthritis medication I'm on for at least three months prior to attempting conception (to rid myself of possible damaged DNA that these cytotoxic meds are designed to do to blood-based cells). Its so wierd, feeling that I have may tainted reproductive cells just due to these meds. But who said life was supposed to be Easy Street.
Those feelings of chromosomal inadequacy (along with that downward spiral of my physical strength that plagued me for over three years) really played with my head. I just didn't feel vital in many senses. Although my plumbing still worked A-O.K., my drive became so diminished as I retreated into myself. Thank the Good Lord I came across these Complementary medicine and dietary changes that are giving me back my physical strength, flexibility and endurance. Its good to have my body back. Being your average male in my mid-thirties the staying power wasn't the issue; it was my lack of muscular strength that was a real bummer. I always wondered why "push-ups" were such a basic exercise in all our school programs. I know now since I can do them again after a few years of not being able to. Having sore knees for so long meant I couldn't get down on them either, another thing I took for granted for so long until I couldn't do that either.
Pamela stuck with me through those tough times that I can now say are behind me. I'm very lucky. I was a pretty hopeless, hapless person for a while. But as one can tell in these writings, I'm back to being the impish little boy I always was.
So I understand about feeling less than great about getting one's body back to ship shape after such major events that have hit the body like childbirth, injury or simple aging. Our bodies slip out of physical shape so quick and when the circumstances are outside of our control it is REALLY frustrating. I realize now that after switching my dietary lifestyle, a little more vitality came back every day and although it seemed like long time at first, one day I was back to having a nearly endlessly resilent body of my twenties, so now I wake up and say, wow, I do feel great today. I still go to bed stiffer than usual on some nights but I know now that good diet is such a key to healthy living.
I've really had to tune into my body's energy like I never did before, though. I guess because now I'm that in my mid-thirties that energy is not overflowing. Its still just about all there but it has to realized to be enhanced. The Asian cultures and their study of Zen for the centering one's qi("chi"-universal life force) is amazing in its simplicity, like remembering breathing techniques I did when I was kid, through the diaphram, not the chest, deeply and with a smooth rhythm. It just proves how much more developed the Asian cultures are to our own. Genius is making the complex simple, not the other way around as so many of my rocket scientist colleagues seem to get confused about. I had to "re-learn" how to walk after so many years of favoring my sore toes and knees. With the imflammation finally under control, I can now walk with that simple heel-to-toe gait that was what I had in my mid-twenties. The effect on my legs has been phenomenal. I lost so much basic strength with my "half-steps," it amazes me today. My legs were always well-developed, watching them turned to twigs was so disheartening. Now they're coming back to the shape they had when I could ride my bicycle all day long without a thought. The "noise" of the world in the nineties has gotten us so far from listening to the subtle things we should be doing for our body/mind/spirit health. It really is a battle to keep stress at bay.
I would guess children help correct one's perspective on all this wackiness that life dishes out. I have a glimmer of that in how my wife and I really thrive on each other's closeness, the touch, the inner peace of sharing life together, being each other's harbor in this storm of life. it shows in that one of the greatest joys in my day is hearing my wife come in the door and say "Hello" or seeing my cat Bootie greet me when I come home.
With winter coming, I am going to concentrate on finishing the ideas I threaten to develop so maybe I can make it big and then get off this train, or at least ride it more in the way I want. I want to leave behind the commuting, the worrying about the IRA performance, or where I'll get a good, safe daycare and education for my kids when I have them. How do we deal with it all this? I don't know how but I do know that even just writing it down here really helps.
I met a very interesting man this weekend. My good friend Johnny's uncle, Mr. Bill. He served with four administrations as the president's policy maker for the disabled. He served under Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson and Nixon befor his retirement. He is a brillant man of 80. Johnny is thinking of moving to L.A. to further his acting career so I am going to make myself available to visit Bill so I could drop in on him if he needs anything and to be his companion. He is such a brillant, humble man, with so much wisdom and character. I believe he, too contracted colon cancer at about the same age my dad is now and at about the same level so that is another reason he struck such a chord with me. Life is so amazing, when we stop to savor it.
Wed., November 27th, 96:Well, this one is being written on Thanksgiving eve, it is currently about 3:00pm on the right coast, it is brilliant sunshine that looks deceptively warm. The bundled up passerby on the street provides the true story, however. I believe some crisp Canadian air is pushing its way down here for the weekend.
I have had a sore throat cold or mild flu that is running like wildfire around Washington this week. Just had some chicken soup Pamela made (she's so good to me) so that will help settle the irritation hopefully.
We will be headed to Pamela's folks tomorrow for dinner. Since they live in Falls Church, no planes or trains are involved in my travels. That's good. I've done my penance (I'm not Catholic so I never had a nun slap my hand with a ruler 'til I spelled that word correctly) at an iced over Lambert Intrn'l (St. Louis) flying TWA ("T-he W-orst A-irline') and a snowed in Stapleton on Continental. I've spent the night on the floor at O'Hare waiting for "Untied" airlines to re-open. So you can see I don't miss that drama and character building, all just to get home to gloomy Pittsburgh in winter. It was always easier to fly West from the Rockies I felt.
Well, this rustbelt boy who can't believe where wanderlust and the closing of the steel mills has taken him will have plenty to be thankful for come chow time tomorrow.
Well, I'm gonna go lie back down recharge my batteries some more to beat this bug.