You Name It

I think my car needs a name. I don't know why. It's been ages since I had a car with a name. If you've known me for a long time, you may remember the car I used to call "The Land Yacht." It was a '72 Chrysler Newport that I bought for $300, and it was so big I'm pretty sure you could have landed a helicopter on the roof.

I decided to take a poll of my faithful readers to see what you think. Jennifer suggested the name "McKinley" - after the mountain that fascinates me (and we already have a "Denali" in the family - Kami's dog).

I threw in a couple of ideas of my own. "The Green Monster" is obviously a reference to the left field wall at Fenway Park, and, it seems appropriate because the station wagon is pretty big and, well... green. "The Raft" is a bit of an inside joke that most of you will understand, but also refers to the fact that the car represents my method of "drifting" back to Florida if or when the need arises. "E" is kind of a play on words that reflects the ever-changing nature of things. E-volv...o. Comprende? Verstehen Sie? I know. It's kind of silly, but, then again, I'm kind of silly.

Take a minute to vote on the Official Poll just to the right of this post. Or write a comment or send me an e-mail with your name suggestion, and I'll add it to the poll.

I should forewarn you that the decision will ultimately be made by the Executive Naming Committee which consists of... ME! All decisions are final. I'll have to schedule a meeting with myself before the naming is official. At that point, I will issue a statement to the media, and distribute invitations to the christening ceremony.

More Fragments...

SERIOUSLY?

I don't know who Jon and Kate are. I don't care. What bothers me is that so many people DO seem to care. I can't get away from the story. It pervades even mainstream media outlets that I once thought were credible. If your life isn't at least as interesting as theirs, I want to ask you two questions: 1) Why not? 2) What are you doing about it?

I NEVER KNEW THIS

When I visited Antietam National Battlefield last weekend, I learned something that I thought was fascinating. Beginning in 1890, as veterans of the greatest battles of the Civil War began to look for proper ways to commemorate the struggles in which they participated, they faced the usual issues involved in raising funds and procuring the land necessary for "military parks." When things looked bleak, they found an unexpected ally. A report by the Military Affairs Committee of the House of Representatives noted the following:

"The preservation for national study of the lines of decisive battles, especially when the tactical movements were unusual both in numbers and military ability, and when the fields embraced great natural difficulties, may properly be regarded as a matter of national importance."

They felt these sites had value as the subject of military study, and so it was that the five original National Battlefields - Antietam, Chickamauga, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Vicksburg - were created. They were administered by the War Department and treated as open-air classrooms for officers. To enable their "pupils" to get a better view of the surrounding terrain, in 1896, the War Department built this tower adjacent to the famous "Bloody Lane" at Antietam...

[Photo by Thad Zajdowicz at JPGMag.com]

According to a sign near the tower, these parks were "turned over to the National Park Service in 1933 as the government tried to consolidate public lands." I always wondered why those major battlefields were so well-preserved. Now I know. Efforts to protect them began long before anybody could build convenience stores there.

Incidentally, the view above would have looked like this after the battle...

[Photo Courtesy of the National Park Service]

If you've never been to any of these battlefields (I have been to all except Shiloh), I urge you to go. They provide some of the most spectacular settings for the study of Civil War history and the remembrance of those who fought.

A DAY IN THE LIFE

I wonder if I have given the impression that I spend my time exploring, eating mussels and drinking wine. I suppose I spent more than enough time doing that initially, but the last several weeks have been difficult, to say the least.

In June, a runaway tow truck destroyed my car, cable and internet service at my hovel went awry for a week, my cell phone died and, thanks to a glitch in my provider's website, its replacement took 10 days to arrive. All of this was followed by the Metro crash on June 22 - which made getting anywhere difficult - and then reports of multiple episodes of fraudulent charges on two different credit cards of mine, the net value of which was around $1400. It could have been worse.

Add to that the fact that the resumes and cover letters I send out often seem to me as if they are just disappearing into outer space. Although I get occasional gems such as this - an e-mail I just received as I am typing:

Thank you for your interest in Job ID: xxx,

Upon thorough review of your qualifications and experience, we will not be considering you further for this position.

Please continue to view available openings by visiting our website– www.xxxxx.jobs. If you find a position of interest for which you believe you are qualified, we encourage you to sign in as a returning applicant and complete a new application.

Again, thank you for your interest and the time you took to participate in the application process. We wish you success in your career exploration.

I just checked my records. I applied for that job on June 4th. C'est la vie.

It is sometimes a struggle to make each day a productive one, but I do my best. I start with Kashi "Go Lean" oatmeal (which I highly recommend), fruit and orange juice. Sometimes I have a whole wheat roll with it. I try not to eat too early so I won't be starved before dinner time. I check and answer e-mails, pay attention to the weather - especially if I'm going into DC (I also look for Metro alerts if I am riding the Red Line), and spend a bit of time keeping up with the news. In late morning, I usually make my way - lugging my laptop - to a Starbucks. I grab a big cup of coffee, and try to act as though I were in my office - a place to get things done. I scour a few different websites for new job postings and compose cover letters.

Sometimes I make phone calls concerning the little bit of business I am still doing in Gainesville or for Push Button Productions. Sometimes I call family members or friends just to check in. Either way, getting to a Starbucks usually involves a walk (to the Metro to go downtown, or to the nearest Starbucks a mile and a half up the road) or a bike ride. Besides coffee, for the past couple of weeks, I have had only orange juice, sparkling water and sugar free lemonade to drink. Dinner, lately, is usually a Lean Cuisine preservative-free meal.

I am hoping that efforts to keep my body healthy will keep my spirits up as well. As of this morning, I am seventeen pounds lighter than when I left Gainesville in early May, and I feel better and better each weekend when I go out for a serious bike ride.

It would certainly put me at ease if I were able to type here a nice entry about accepting a great job in DC. It may still happen. But, while I am frequently discouraged by the search, I remind myself that I will be better off, regardless of what happens. As I recently wrote to Kami in an e-mail:

I don't know what will become of my little venture into the nation's capitol. I'm glad I tried though. Whatever happens, I know I will be better off because of it. I've had lots of time alone to think. I see myself then - not so long ago - and what I had become. That's not me. Not any more. It's been interesting to see who has made efforts to stay in touch with me and who hasn't. In both cases, it hasn't always been the people I expected it to be. It makes me wish I had been better at telling some how much I appreciated them. It's never too late to start, right?

The New Clothing Enterprise continues...

New Wheels (Part 3)...

For those who have been asking for more pictures of the new wheels, here are a few that were in the original ad that made me go look at the thing.

Freedom...

It's amazing how good it feels to have a car, even in an area where you'd frequently rather not drive it. I have become so accustomed to having one for so many years that I didn't realize how stranded I would feel without it. Here's an interesting thing to think about; you know what is the most useful thing to have when you're looking for a car? A car. How else do you get around to shop for one?

I decided a trip to the Antietam National Battlefield was in order. I hadn't been there since 1991. Antietam was the bloodiest single day of the Civil War. By the end of September 17, 1862, somewhere around 23,000 men had been killed or wounded on both sides. Tactically, it was a stalemate, but the Confederate forces eventually withdrew to the other side of the Potomac to lick their wounds. Strategically, the result was a Union victory since Lee had been forced to give up a planned invasion of northern territory. This was enough to give Lincoln confidence to issue the Emancipation Proclamation.

Since I was celebrating my new-found freedom, I tossed my bike into the back of the new Volvo and hit the road.

It is ironic that the scene of some of the most vicious fighting of the Civil War occurred in areas of distinct natural beauty. Sharpsburg, Maryland is a small farm community with rugged, rolling hills. Antietam Creek passes near the edge of the town before it empties into the Potomac about three miles south.

There was no threat of rain, but the day was hazy. The map provided by the National Park Service (Link HERE) shows a nice driving tour. I did it on bike - about eight miles. A bike is a great way to do a Civil War battlefield...


The National Park Service has a slide show of the famous Alexander Gardner photographs taken shortly after the battle (Link HERE). The photograph of Confederate dead along the Hagerstown Pike is probably one of the most famous Civil War images.

I didn't take too many pictures, but I did stop to get a shot of my trusty bike and backpack (I have used it literally every day) framed by cannons. It was just a silly idea - my way of paying tribute to the two items that have served me so well on this journey...


When I went to gather my backpack and mount up, I noticed something...


Look closely...


It's a bird's nest in the barrel of the cannon, complete with eggs. What was once the scene of unspeakable violence now made for a peaceful afternoon. What was once an instrument of death had become a vessel of life.

It seemed like the perfect way to end the day.

New Wheels (Part 2)...

I've driven the car about 150 miles in the last two days without even so much as an exhaust belch (from the car, not from me, of course). More on that soon...

New Wheels...

Keep your fingers crossed, because all I've done is put down a deposit, but, by some time tomorrow afternoon, I hope to be driving this:


Haha! A family car. Just what I need.

Actually, I chose it because (in theory) it's reliable, safe, and it has room for bikes, camping gear and other things I occasionally like to haul around.

Yesterday makes five weeks since my good old SUV was totalled. I have to admit, every time I walk or ride my bike out of the little cul de sac where I am living, I look to my right, up the hill on the main road to the spot where I last saw my SUV. Even now, I am still somewhat surprised, and a little saddened, when I see it isn't there.

I had enough food at home for breakfast tomorrow, but, just for kicks, while riding my bike the four miles back from the credit union that has helped me with a few financial things regarding the purchase, I stopped at the grocery store and picked up a load of stuff so big there wasn't a square inch unoccupied inside my backpack. It seemed like an appropriate way to start really appreciating having a car again!

In six weeks or so, I will either have found a job that will keep me here, or I'll be on my way back to Florida. Either way, I hope the Volvo serves me well.

Tour de France...

Each year, in July, I am reminded that there is no better multi-stage sporting event than the Tour de France. You could watch it just for the scenery, which is always absolutely stunning. You could watch it for the anguish of the crashes, the adrenaline rush of the sprints on the flat stages, or the agony of the climbs in the mountains.

Then there are the subtleties and intricacies of the strategy and tactics, and the races within the race: The Yellow Jersey (GC or General Classification - the overall race leader), the Green Jersey (Best Sprinter), the Polka Dot Jersey (King of the Mountains - the race's best climber), and the White Jersey (Best Young Rider - the highest-ranked rider aged 25 or younger). [For a simple explanation of some of this stuff, click HERE.]

And, of course, there is the human drama - the tension between teams, or sometimes within teams, and the intense suffering that each individual must bear in his own way. If you've tried to ride any distance at all on a bike, you realize what great athletes these guys are. This year's Tour de France will cover nearly 2200 miles in 21 stages. Today alone, they will ride 140 miles in the Pyrennes Mountains of Spain and the Principality of Andora.

There is one other aspect of the Tour that makes it great for me - the commentators. I like to watch the live coverage in the morning (which I record on DVR to watch later) rather than the "Americanized" prime time coverage on Versus because there is nothing better than Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen. Between them, they have nearly 60 years of experience in professional cycling with Liggett having done TV commentary on 33 Tours de France.

Yesterday was the perfect example of all of these things. David Millar, a Scottish rider on the American team Garmin-Slipstream, got into a long breakaway (an individual or small group of riders that breaks away from the main field - the "peloton" - and then tries desperately to cling to whatever advantage they may have obtained). Millar was part of a group of four riders that managed to gain a 3 or 4 minute advantage on the field, but, as often happens, three riders fell back into the peloton. Millar, courageously, rode nearly 25 kilometers in the lead, alone, in the rain, on a stage that ended with an uphill climb.

[Photo courtesy of VeloNews]

Phil Liggett described Millar's ride as only he can:

"The rain is dancing on the pavement, and Millar is dancing on his pedals… "

"David Millar is the loneliest man in all of Europe right now."

"Millar’s legs are going to burn like a bonfire when he turns on to the slopes (of the final climb)."

Millar's legs did burn like a bonfire at the end. He was caught with less than a kilometer to go before the finish. But the images of the day, Millar's effort, and Liggett's commentary all combined to make the day one of the many memorable ones of the Tour de France.