Austin: Donut and Donut Hole

Howdy from Texas!  I definitely know I'm in Texas, in the heart of Texas as a matter of fact:  Austin.  Austin is often considered the oasis or mecca of Texas especially by those people who went to the University of Texas or those we reside in Austin.  I'm here to tell you though that there are two distinct Austins. 

I consider Austin to be a big, old donut.  The doughy part is urban Texan, recognizable to anyone who lives in the Big D, Fort Worth, San Antone, Houston or any number of smaller Texas cities.  Its full of big box stores, slick strip shopping malls filled with chain stores, and every restaurant chain is represented not just once but multiple times as you move around the donut - think Round Rock which is a seamless suburb of Austin but has more in common with Dallas or Fort Worth. 

As a Texan, have you noticed that we are no longer a 'rural' state? - only about 14% of Texan can be considered hayseeds now.  That doesn't mean there aren't a lot of them - we have the largest rural population in numbers of any state - over 3 million.  Those 14% are busy, as they account for Texas being #1 of all the states in livestock production and #2 of all the states in agricultural production.  That's why this catastrophic drought covering the state is going to impact the rest of the country.    Demographically, though, virtually everything west of Fort Worth has been losing population.  We are the fastest growing state in the Union - almost a 13% increase in population in the last 10 years.  People are streaming into the urban areas - especially around Austin.  Not too many people are moving into central Austin - what I call the 'hole'

I live in the hole of the Austin donut.  The hole is between the two major freeways running north/south (I-35 and "Mopac") and between two major highways running east/west (Hwy 183 'Research' and Hwy 71 - 'Ben White")  The 'hole' includes the University of Texas: 50,000 students.  It includes the State Capitol.  It includes some of the oldest neighborhoods in Austin.  The roads are almost incomprehensible filled with 'gotchas' of vanishing lanes, zigzags, and streets with 1/2 attached to their names.  There are more men with long hair here per square mile than anywhere other than some environs of California.   There's also a lot of tie dye, tattoos, headbands, and people still making a somewhat dubious living making bongs or ethnic jewelry.  The young financially successful also live in the 'hole'.  They live in neighborhoods close to the trendiest restaurants, bars, and 'nightlife'.  This is one of the few spots in Texas that has inflated housing prices, and one of the few places in the country where those inflated prices didn't take a 50% tumble. 

I have heard "the Hole" referred to as "Nut Town", that Commie town, (for those of you born after 1990 - "commie" means Communist in a very derogatory sense), and Weirdsville.  I've heard that this part of Austin can either be considered an oasis or an infection depending on what Texan you talk to.  It's definitely not homogenized and marches to a beat that is hard to quantify.  The 'hole' slogan is "Keep Austin Weird".  What they mean is to actively boycott chain restaurants, and big box stores as much as possible in favor of locally owned businesses.  People who live inside the hole are willing to pay a small premium to keep those local businesses afloat.  Every restaurant inside this area of Austin can be packed on a Friday night, and the one Chili's I've seen has an empty parking lot.  There are lots of practical shops that harken back to the 1950's. 
 
Another result of the Keep Austin Weird campaign is wonderful restaurants and interesting shops that sell everything from the most mundane to high art.  The "hole" even has it's own hotel/motel:  The Austin Motel - whose motto is:  "So close yet so far out."      http://www.austinmotel.com/   They even have their own grocery store here: Whole Foods - which got its start in the hole part of Austin.  This area has it's own fashion color too:  Burnt Orange, which is really amusing, considering that most women wouldn't be caught dead in this color since it's really, really unflattering.  However, in the Hole of Austin, you can buy everything from a toilet seat, to a car in that nauseating color.  Every hat here has a pair of horns on it.  Because of the preponderance of people under the age of 40, when I'm here I feel ancient.  In most situations I've found myself in the past several weeks, I'm the oldest person in the room - and that includes Drake since I'm four days older than he is.   

There are three iconic buildings in the hole:  The UT Tower which is bathed in that Burnt Orange color after any football victory, the State Capitol which can still be viewed unobstructed from the length of Congress Avenue, and the Frost Building which is actually lovely with its top looking like wings of frost. 

This is a fascinating place to live.  It's the most experimental place in Texas.  It's the most obnoxious place - as only that crazy, college thing can be.  It's  the most politically liberal pocket of Texas.  It's a visual throwback to the early 1970's, and in that regard, it's a bit unsettling.  Sometimes time stands still here and yet, sometimes the 'hole' is on the cutting age of change.  This had been another fascinating place to live.       

Cross Country Musings

One year ago I was in Washington state, 50 miles south of the Canadian border.  One week ago I was in the White Mountains of  New Hampshire 100 miles south of the Canadian border but on the opposite coast.  I've been many places between these two locations.  The consensus is that the USA is becoming homogeneous, and before I started criss-crossing the country, I would have blindly agreed.  After all, seen one Target, Walmart, McDonald's or Applebee's seen them all.  Standardization IS alive and well in those national chains. That said, there's still quite a bit of individuality out there.   For instance, we ate dinner in a great chef owned restaurant in Dickson, Tennessee (a town of 20,000) and had food as good (or better) than we got in New York City.  [The chef/owner really lit up when I told him that.] 

Food and drink are definitely not standardized.  The Northeast likes pepsi, ginger ale and rootbeer.  I didn't see any Dr. Pepper or hardly any coke.  I didn't find salsa at breakfast until I hit Arkansas.  Every menu in the Northeast  has a reuben sandwich, while the Northwest menus always feature mac and cheese.  Grits and fountain Dr. Pepper appeared in Virginia.  The comfort food of New York is Italian.  There were no chicken fried steaks until I got to Texas.        

I can tell you that the fast food restaurants are the new 'rest areas'.  You can always count on what you will find - a reasonably clean bathroom paired with cheap food and drinks, and no one cares if you buy anything when you come in to pee.   Big plus:  fast food restaurants are EVERYWHERE.  The very best bathrooms are in casinos, and you can even score free soft drinks there as well as handi-wipes.  Gas stations are a complete crap shoot - I've seen gas stations with fresh flowers in the ladies restroom, and others that I just turned around and walked out of.  However, there is definitely the expectation that you are going to BUY something if you try to pee at a gas station.   My favorite rest stops are when you cross state lines.  I love to be 'welcomed' into a state.  They give really, really clean bathrooms paired with reading material and people with spiels whose job it is to pretend they are THRILLED to see you.  I also love that crisp, clean precision folded free state map you can walk out with.

As a general rule, we drive the Interstate Highway system when we are pulling the cargo trailer - it takes less gas and less effort to drive when you go interstate.  You do have to deal with the trucks.  Worst truck corridor:  Interstate 81 going south - starting in Pennsylvania.  It's pretty rural out there, but the farmland is dotted with distribution centers  and the 18 wheelers are like bees checking in at the hive.  Then they fan out delivering everything you can imagine.  They swarm the Interstate Highway system in this area because there are so many criss-crossing interstate highways.  When there's a convoy of trucks as far as you see ahead and behind you, our consumerism certainly sinks into the consciousness.  

We've also found that all Interstates are not equal.   Worst interstate:  crossing Indiana.  There were actual axle breaking potholes on the Interstate roadway - and there were a lot of them.  Indiana has closed all their 'rest areas' all the way across the state.  I actually saw men taking a 'bathroom' break against the back walls of one rest area building.  That was really embarrassing!  I didn't get a map either.

The northeast rest areas around NYC and New Jersey are gigantic and have multiple fast food restaurants inside them.  You could actually get a Nathan's kosher hot dog inside the rest area.  The drive into New York City was probably the most hair raising driving we've done.  Thank heaven Drake was behind the wheel.  We went across a toll bridge into Brooklyn that had a $13 toll.  My hand held GPS in my iPhone got us to the door of our duplex in Brooklyn sighing with relief, and I can't imagine EVER driving in Manhattan.  We actually took a slightly longer route to avoid driving across Manhattan.  Brooklyn was bad enough.

The main  impression I've gotten driving across the country is how beautiful it is.  This last drive from New Hampshire to Texas was a primer in autumn.  We loved the leaves in New Hampshire as everyone saw in our pictures, but an unlooked for bonus was as we drove to Texas, we followed fall color.  I so want to go back to Virginia - it's just flat out gorgeous.  Tennessee wasn't any slouch either.  Virginia is just jampacked with stuff 'to do'.  I'm certain that's a destination in the future.

Another impression is how nice people are in this country.  The media would have us believe that people are scary.  If you believed those jokers, you would think the USA is populated with gun toting vigilantes or pants sagging gangbangers or hard core criminals on every corner.  I'm here to tell you that this is so far from the truth, it's laughable.  There are regional differences.  Folks in the Northeast are friendly, but they are not 'warm'.  Same for the folks in the Northwest.  Somewhere in Virginia we crossed some invisible line.  Beyond it, people 'visit' and comment and tell you about themselves and their families and their pets at any social interaction.  Having been raised in this type of sociability, I can tell you that it was very comforting after having been in the Northeast for 5 months.  I guess what I'm trying to say is crossing the country and interacting with the people and the scenery and the 'attractions' is always amazing and informative and surprising.  I marvel at the diversity I've seen.     

We are 'resting' with friends for a couple of days before we head for Austin.  We'll be 'holidaying' in Texas with Sarah (our daughter) out of a condo in Austin close to her house.  We'll be leaving for another drive to Sun City, AZ to spend our winter with Drake's mom and the rest of the family.  I'm also excited to be going to Logan Utah for the summer and then onto Montana.  Places to go and people to meet.  I can hardly wait. 

        

     

       

Gettysburg

We went to Gettysburg because it was 'there'.  We literally were driving past the site.  There was no excuse not to stop. This is the only Civil War battle that is even hazily remembered 150 years after it was fought.  The reason?  Mainly, the 77 word Gettysburg Address given by President Lincoln five months after the battle.  Unique for the time, he dedicated the cemetery established at the battle site, with the Gettysburg Address. This speech was written by Lincoln in his carriage on the way to Pennsylvania.  His speech was a shocking scandal at the time. 

It's hard for us in the 21st century to understand the importance attached to 'oratory' in the 19th century.  This is an era with limited entertainment - getting to see and hear a real orator talk on an issue for 2 or 3 hours would be the same as us attending the hot new movie today.  Lincoln spoke for less than 2 minutes - following a speaker who had talked for about 2 hours.  People felt cheated - his speech was supposed to be the main attraction.  Very few journalists understood the importance of the speech in summarizing the reason for the Civil War.  Lincoln's remarks have endured in America similar to Martin Luther King's 'I Have a Dream' speech.  Because of its brevity, most of us at some point in school memorized it - and it was often the first time we had to stand up in front of the class and 'recite'.

However, it wasn't until I stood on the battlefield that I understood the real meaning of Lincoln's speech.  Gettysburg is a horrendous place.  It's beautiful which makes it all the more horrific.  More than 7000 men were killed outright here.  More than 30,000 were wounded, and 10,000 were captured or just outright missing.  This was a 3 day battle fought in major and minor skirmishes (little battles), around and through the town of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  It is the biggest battle (and virtually the only battle) fought in the North.  This was a gamble by Robert E Lee, the Confederate supreme commander,  to win a major battle on Northern soil which would then become the springboard for a political settlement of the war.  Lee knew that the Confederacy could not conceivably win an protracted war.  

Looking at the museum and the artifacts from the battle and a comparison of the equipment of both sides, it was apparent that this lost battle was the 'high water mark' of the Confederacy.  The curators personalized this museum.  For me, there was a visceral impact of the huge numbers of young men who died here.  There's always the question when so many die:  Did they die in vain?  I must say the answer is grudgingly 'no'.  If Lee, with a victory at Gettysburg, would have been able to force a political settlement of the war, the question of slavery would have remained unsettled, and the dissolution of the United States at the point of territorial expansion across the continent would have had disastrous consequences. 

I think there were two reasons that this visit to a 150 year old battle site affected me so.  One, we toured the museum with a large number of 16 to 18 year old teenagers.  (A high school history class was having a field trip.)  Juxtapositioned with the pictures of the actual soldiers, it was as if the Civil War soldiers had come to life.  150 years ago, the boys swirling around me in the museum would have been in this battle.  Second, Gettysburg, a little Pennsylvania farm town, with the misfortune of being a crossroads of 10 roads fanning out across the countryside, was a victim of the battlefield carnage.  The 1800 residents were left with 30,000 wounded soldiers, thousands of rotting corpses - both human and animal littering not just one field, but  lots of fields surrounding the entire town.  The trauma and disaster post-battle is almost unimaginable.  Diaries from townspeople talk about the 'stench' that lasted for months.  The screams of the dying and wounded were endured by all the residents.  Every building was littered with the wounded.  The bulk of the armies moved on - and left the carnage behind for the Gettysburg civilians to cope with.

The museum here was huge.  It included not only artifacts, but also photographs, and a mini-history lesson to set the battle in context.  The zenith experience of the museum was the cyclorama - a 360 degree painting done in the 1880's depicting the battle.  The artist consulted veterans who were there to insure accuracy, and I'm sure that many veterans who witnessed the painting 20 years after the battle experienced post traumatic stress.  I found it very stressful, and I didn't personally know people who were wounded or who died either standing next to me or by my hand.

They call the Gettysburg battlefield 'sacred ground', and it really is.  This is the battle that was the death rattle of slavery.  If, for no other reason, that makes the Union victory and the soldiers who sacrificed their lives to achieve it worthwhile.

I hope my pictures convey the depth and importance of this place in the building of who we are as Americans.

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011GettysburgPATour3CivilWarBattlefield?authkey=Gv1sRgCMfHtJ2T7ITo-QE# 

Cooperstown from a new angle

Cooperstown was very lucky to have a native son who decided to put the town on the map.  His name was Samuel Clark, and he was instrumental in bringing the Baseball Hall of Fame to town.  He wasn't content to stop there.  He convinced New York State to located the New York Historical Society in Cooperstown, and he personally developed two additional museums -both gems of the first order.  One, The Farmer's Museum, is a recreation of an 18th century working 'village', and the second is the restoration and transformation of James Fenimore Cooper's childhood home into a first class museum focusing on American art and crafts. 

The Farmer's Museum closes on October 31st, but the Fenimore Art Museum was open and ready for business.  We both thoroughly enjoyed not only the house's interior, but also it's superb exterior landscaping and scenery.  As always, the pictures tell the story:

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011CooperstownTour2FenimoreMuseum?authkey=Gv1sRgCO3K15TNz8HDXA#

Today Drake fulfilled a lifelong wish:  He got to see the Baseball Hall of Fame.  Believe me, it's not exactly easy to get to this place.  Cooperstown, New York (population 1800) is in the middle of nowhere, otherwise called the Mohawk Valley.  It's smack dab in the middle of dairy farm country.  We left Franconia yesterday and drove and drove and drove to get here.  We finally reached the exit on the Interstate, and THEN we drove another 40 minutes.  Cooperstown in a quaint little town filled with architecture that goes all the way back to the 18th century.   It's actually named not for James Fenimore Cooper, but rather for his father.

The entire downtown area (location of the Baseball Hall of Fame) is filled with souvenir shops, baseball card shops, equipment shops, buy a bat shops, a wax museum, and little restaurants and cafes.  It's surrounded with motels, hotel, inns, and  bed/breakfast mansions.  No wonder!  At peak times of the year thousands of people visit.  Inductee weekend can see 80,000 visitors.  (Can you imagine a town of 1800 hosting 80,000 people?)

We visited at one of the most uncrowded times; only in January are there fewer visitors - can you say 'snow'.  Instead of thousands of people thronging the museum, there were literally less than 10 people visiting today.  We got to see every exhibit, take photographs and look at everything completely unimpeded.  I asked Drake for his impressions about the Hall of Fame, and the verb he used was "surprised".  His expectation was that the building would be 'old' (it wasn't), and that it would be jam packed with glass cases full of baseball stuff.  Instead, we saw an open, airy space on 3 floors, and an exhibit policy that reflected the credo that 'less is more'. 

Some highlights:   First and foremost was the plaque gallery - individual  bronze plaques with a bas relief sculpture of the inductee's head (wearing the baseball team cap the inductee chose) together with a short recitation of their accomplishments.   Additionally, I loved the case of World Series 'rings'.  The 19th century equipment display was fascinating.  The statistical part of the game was handled in an interesting way.  Drake really enjoyed being in a first class museum dedicated to his greatest interest:  baseball.  As he put it, "This place makes baseball seem important because the museum is of such high quality."  We marveled over some things, learned some things, and saw more 'art' that I expected.

This was a supremely fun day.  I took a bunch of photos (of course), and hope you can get a sense of this place from the pictures.

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011CooperstownBaseballHallOfFame?authkey=Gv1sRgCK7fh7uknZPMnwE

           

 

New Hampshire Peculiarities

We've lived in enough sections of the USA to discover that each region has its own peculiarities that go way beyond the "Cowboy" reputation of Texas or the laid back reputation of the West coast.  I have loved living in New Hampshire for the past four months, and one of the delights beyond the temperatures and the scenery has been the state's wonderful little peculiarities.  Here are the ones that have struck me:

1)  Topping the list:  How can you help but love a state that puts up a historical marker to an alien abduction.  Here's Betty and Barney Hill's 15 minutes of fame.  (Note:  This is less than 10 miles from our house up here.)  They had a 'conference' and an unveiling of this marker just a few weeks ago.

2)  Our favorite New Hampshire word:  "SHORE".  No, not an ocean or river edge; it's what the natives up here reply when you ask for something: 
Example - "Can I have some extra napkins?" 
"Shore". 

3)  Most unusual drink I've encountered:  a staple of 19th century New Hampshire :  SWITCHEL
It's the soft drink of hay making season.  You just mix vinegar, molasses, ginger and honey.  Be sure to chill it in the brook.  (There are no creeks up here - only brooks.  Up the brook without a paddle just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?)  We live close to the Skoocumchuck Brook - great name, don't you think?

4)  A close runner up in the drink category is Birch Beer.  This is a local product that tastes like flat root beer - I think it's an acquired taste.  I did wonder if it is made from tree bark and sugar, but no one knows.

5)  Thinking about strange drinks makes me think about the food up here.  No Mexican food.  Now, don't get me wrong, they have Mexican Restaurants - at least that's what the signs say, but I've had a spicier taste just standing in the salsa aisle of a Texas grocery store.  I'm going to go berserk for Tex-Mex when I hit Texas.  I'm having withdrawal.

6)  Another food item that was definitely an also ran up here are "corn dogs".  First, it took the fair food vendor 3 tries to even produce a corn dog, and then it could only be charitably be called a 'corn dog second'. 

7)  On the smooth side:  Lots of maple stuff, and it's so delish!  The obsession with maple in both New Hampshire and Vermont goes way, way beyond syrup.  Speaking of which:  Did you know there are a zillion 'grades' of syrup each of which are used for different purposes.  I'm sure there must be one grade that you just bathe in.  My favorite maple items:  Number One:  MAPLE COTTON CANDY.  It has absolutely spoiled me for the pink sugar variety.  Number One:  MAPLE WALNUT ICE CREAM.  (No, I didn't make a mistake - it's a tie.)  Oh, and let me just mention  in passing Maine Wild Blueberry Juice because we have loved drinking it.  I have also enjoyed Lobster Rolls which are really, really hard to get outside of New England - unless you go to Nova Scotia.  Finishing up the food/drink section here:  There's only one place in 50 miles of Franconia that serves fountain Dr. Pepper.  Sometimes we just eat at the Littleton Diner just so I can have a DP fix.

8)  We live outside a 'village'.  There is some set of mystery numbers that delineate a village from a town, but we haven't been able to discover what those numbers are.  Anywho, Franconia is a village.  It has 900 people.  Being part of a village has some quirks:  First, we freeze our garbage.  Our chalet has no disposal, and no trash pick up; therefore, we make a weekly trip to the 'transfer station' - the New Hampshire equivalent of 'dump'. (Trash control = bear control up here.)   In Franconia we have "The Business that Does Everything".  Yes, it's an actual establishment that dog sits, makes copies, sells locally made cosmetics, and local dog food.  It is the UPS pick-up location, and sends out your dry cleaning to Concord as well as notarizes your documents, rents computer time, and does about 15 other things - all under one roof!  It's really hard to make a living up here.  You have to admire the ingenuity of the woman who owns this.  

9)  County Fairs:  I'm becoming an expert at the country fair.  I loved the fairs in Washington, and I've always loved the cadillac of fairs:  the Texas State Fair.  Some of my most vivid memories as a kid involved the Tulsa State Fair - where I first fell in love with cotton candy.  NH fairs have their own twists:  Female lumberjack contests, an emphasis on vegetables (especially the giant variety), and scarecrow contests.

10)  New Hampshire has many claims to fame, but one I particularly like is their distinction of having the largest legislature in the United States (bigger even than the US Congress).  Considering NH is ranked 42nd in state population, these people pretty much each have their own personal state legislator.  Another fun fact:  The giant legislature is still meeting in the oldest continually operating state house in the USA.  NH also has one president to their credit:  the 14th - Franklin Pierce - (1853-57), but they should disown him - he's widely considered by historians to be one of the worst presidents ever.   They should have just stuck with Daniel Webster, another famous New Hampshire native.   Having lived up here even briefly, I can tell you that these people are political animals, and I feel pretty comfortable letting them winnow out the Presidential candidates for the rest of us.

11)  Another New Hampshire peculiarity is its granite.  It contains some chemical that melts the granite when it comes in contact with water - a pretty easily come by commodity up here.  That melting granite is responsible for a granite formation that fell off one of the White Mountains in 2003.  The vanished formation is still called "The Old Man of the Mountain".  One day it was there, and poof, the next day gone - crashed several hundred feet down the mountain due to the melting granite.  This was a NH icon, and all their highway signs have this profile as part of the sign.  The New Hampshire solution:  Build a monument to the formation that no longer exists for tourists to visit.  Don't laugh, I've been there.

12)  And thank heaven for tourists or New Hampshire would be empty.  Especially the White Mountain region which is about 1/3rd of the state.  There are no 'cities' in New Hampshire.  There doesn't seem to be any industry other than tourism, and in the mountains there's certainly not much farming.  I have to admire the way they have maximized their one big resource:  SNOW.  (220 inches last winter right here where we are living.)  We are perched at the base of one of the biggest ski resorts in New England (Bode Miller's home mountain).   Snow = gold in New Hampshire.  The other tourist gold comes in colors of red, orange and yellow.  We have never seen such an autumn.  The 'fall foliage' of New England so touted everywhere lived up to the hype.  I only took about 300 pictures of leaves.  They were so exquisite that I couldn't help myself. 

13)  I can't leave New Hampshire without exposing the Moose Conspiracy.   There are about 10,000 fictitious moose in New Hampshire.  We've been here for four months and thus far, the only thing we have seen are the evidences of the conspiracy which was formed to convince tourists that there are actually moose up here for the viewing.  They even have 'moose tours' ($28 per person to see people dressed in moose costumes at a distance).  There are signs everywhere:  Flashing ones - SLOW:  Moose next 5 miles.  Yellow diamond - Moose Crossing. and my favorite:  Brake for Moose - IT COULD SAVE YOUR LIFE.  Take my word for it:  THERE ARE NO MOOSE IN NEW HAMPSHIRE 

      While this blog has been tongue in cheek (and hopefully a little funny), New Hampshire has been a delight.  How can you not like a place where you get up every morning and look out over a changing mountain view, surrounded by hundreds of beautiful trees, rushing streams, and magnificent sunsets.  I've fallen a little bit in love with the White Mountains.   New Hampshirians are not morose grumps who walk around sayint "Yup", but friendly, gregarious and pleasant.  I'm also ready to LEAVE before we get some real snow.  There's a taste of snow showers coming a couple of days, and that's all I want - just a taste.  Texas here we come.   

 

 

World Series - Part Two

I wrote Ranger posts last year when we got to the World Series for the first time.  Somehow, it's more exciting this year.  I think I was like the players last year:  Couldn't quite believe we got there and just thrilled to be one of the last two teams playing baseball.   This year.........well, I expected us to be back - told Drake so in March at Spring Training.   It wasn't luck that won 96 games this year - it was talent carefully cultivated and nurtured on all levels of the Ranger organization.  However, once you get to the play-offs, then there's an element of luck - just ask the Phillies!  (They won 102 games, and they didn't move through the play-offs.)  My point is that while we all hope to win the World Series this year, we have to be prepared for luck, karma, or the Baseball Gods intervening.  

All the talking heads seem to believe this is a toss-up series.  OK - maybe on paper.  There's one thing I know about baseball - all of that analysis really has little to do with the outcome of the individual games.  There's no telling which team or even which players on each team will rise to the top.  Example:  Nelson Cruz, 7th place hitter, usually just an OK fielder, who had been cold as a mackerel at the plate in the last portion of the season, becomes the bigger than life Ranger with two multi-run home runs both in extra innings.  Let's just say, that if we go into extra innings with the Cardinals, that Nellie will be WALKED.

Is it any wonder that baseball players are ultra-superstitious?  Facial hair (Michael Young starts to hit when he shaves his ugly beard.  The bushier Scott Feldman's beard gets, the better he pitches.)  Titanium necklaces (check these out - even Washington is wearing one)  Sox:  up or down?  Rangers have two players that like to show their sox - can you name them?  And how about 'the cobra' - check out this year's symbol of power - watch a Ranger who gets a crucial hit make the cobra sign to the dug-out.  And those are just the obvious things a fan can observe - let's just say that I'll bet there is at least one pitcher with the team who's wearing the same dirty underwear he had on when he won his last big game.  I'm glad I don't know who - really, really too much information.

Basically, we're about an hour away from the 2011 World Series start time.  Let's just all have a great time cheering and moaning over each game, and then remember, it's only a game and this is just entertainment.  You have to admit, though, it's good, good entertainment. 

To ice the deal, I've been wearing my lucky, vintage Ranger jersey today in Concord, New Hampshire.  Got lots and lots of puzzled looks - the Rangers aren't exactly a household name (or logo), but we Texas fans don't care.  We know they are a truly fun team we can be proud to root for.   Let's Go Rangers!

      

      

Visitors from the Lone Star State

I wouldn't want to move back to Hurst.  However, that doesn't mean that I don't miss my friends.  Email is good. Cards are good, and the phone will do in a pinch.  None of those communication devices is as good as face to face.  Drake and I were both delighted when Paula and Doris (friends of long standing) decided to visit us in New Hampshire and peep the leaves.  They arrived right on time and stayed with us for five days.

We prepared carefully for the visit.  Our 'chalet' has wonderful windows, some comfortable furniture, our 40" flat screen (sitting next to a 30" picture tube Sony - belonging to the house), a sturdy large wooden table and chairs.  The kitchen has nice appliances, but you can stand in the center of it and touch EVERY wall.  In other words, it's hard for more than one person to be in it.   I knew food preparation would be hard, so I planned our meals carefully.  Drake and I were both a little anxious - OK, I was anxious - because as whacko as the kitchen is here, the bedrooms are just plain squirrelly. 

First, there are three bedrooms, but only one closet.  One bedroom is so small and impacted by the staircase, the bunk bed in the room is such a squeeze you have to crawl on your hands and knees to open the window.   There's no possibility of a closet in this room because of the oil burner in the room.  The second bedroom has no closet, but it does have a queen size bed AND a bunk bed set.  It's such a tiny, tiny room for that much furniture.  We also have a sleeper sofa in the only common area of the house.  I was anxious that our friends would be gracious about the bed situation while they were here, but on the plane would be dissing us BAD.  

Well.........I'm pretty sure nobody got dissed on the plane over the beds because we all fell into our respective beds exhausted every evening.  Every day was such fun, and we were on the go from early until just before sunset.  Nobody wanted to miss the sunset, or the adult beverages that accompanied it every evening.    The visit was also helped by having absolutely glorious weather - mid 70's and sunshine every day.  Oh, and the leaves were at PEAK.  We went on a tram ride to the top of a mountain, ate maple everything (maple walnut ice cream, maple drops, maple sugar candy, maple syrup, and the creme de' la creme:  maple cotton candy - divine!)  We went to all the attractions at the Franconia Notch State Park - lots of rushing water, impressive granite cliffs, and waterfalls.  We three even dipped our tootsies into the cold, cold Pemiwagasset River BRRRR!  

 We got totally lost in the Great Vermont Corn Maze, drove through a covered bridge, took a zillion pictures of leaves,  drove a National Scenic Byway, visited a maple sugar house, bought jewelry, and went to a craft show.  We picked apples out of an orchard - both for ourselves and for the food bank.  We bought fresh pressed apple cider and ate lobster.  We went to a county fair and admired the animals and vegetables, rode the ferris wheel and the carousel (yes, we three like merry go rounds).  We ate some corn dog 'seconds'. - State Fair Corndogs don't need to sweat the New Hampshire version of that fair delicacy.   We visited a Science Center which exhibited regional animals (those injured or orphaned that can't make it in the wild) to enjoy the woods and learn about the environment and the animals' habitats.  We visited the Frost House - summer home of Robert Frost and enjoyed reading several of his poems over the course of a nature walk on the property.  On the way back to the plane, we visited the state capitol building of New Hampshire.  Doris spearheaded a challenging puzzle in the evenings while we all watched the Rangers play baseball.   

I have the pictures to prove that we let no grass grow under our feet.  I hope you enjoy looking at them as much as we enjoyed the activities they represent.

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011TouringWithDorisAndPaulaNewHampshire?authkey=Gv1sRgCMXNjdPhxZWW8wE#

Birthday Blues

When I was 25, I looked around my family and realized I had three living grandparents.  I did some arithmetic and it dawned on me that based on my genetics, I was going to live a very long time barring the stupidity accidents of youth or the fickle finger of fate.  I resolved that year that I would never ever let 'getting old' bother me.   An easy resolution when one is 25 and can barely imagine what old age really means.  At 30 I felt like I had just barely hit my stride and I mostly remember my late 20's and early 30's as being the time our travel mania really started - we spent a 30 day vacation in Europe the year I was 30.  When I was 35, I didn't have time to worry about getting older - I was the mother of a new baby - literally:  I turned 35 on the 25th of September and Sarah Lynn was born at noon on the 26th. 

That pretty much took care of birthdays for the next 20 years.  Our individual birthdays evolved into Birthday Week (me, Sarah and Drake all have our birthdays in the same week - Drake's birthday is the 29th).  That was always fun, and the focus was always on Sarah's birthday rather than ours.  Birthdays were fun filled family and friend times, and they involved a lot of cake.  I didn't have the time or energy to be concerned that life was winging by. 

My 50's were the proverbial best of times and worst of times.  That's the only way to put it.  That's when chronic pain started.  My closest friend died.  My mother and brother died, my father lost his mind, and became a shell.  They were also good.  Sarah did high school just like a female clone of Wally Cleaver.  She enjoyed all of it, and she achieved to her potential.  We got to participate in her extra-curricular activities and knew to savor them since she would be leaving home soon.  I didn't really have 'empty nest' problems since she was the blip in our lives rather than the total focus.  We had spent so much time together as a childless couple (15 years) before she arrived, it was pretty easy to slip back into that mode.  We got her launched into the world, and we congratulated ourselves on a job well done. 

Now that my 60's have arrived - I'm 61 this year, and have been since January.  (FYI:  Since I was born in 1950, it's always been easier to just change my age on January 1st rather than wait until the end of September.  That way, I always know how old I am.  I know, I know, - bizarre - but it's always worked for me.)  I'm struggling coming to grips with a life that is more than half over.  I can't be having a mid-life crisis, since I'm way past that age.  What I'm having is a sense of sadness.  I have been thinking about these feelings quite a bit over the past year.  The rational part of my mind is saying:  You're being ridiculous!  No one can predict what the future will hold - Lord knows that I've learned that over the past five years.  Stop this pity party:  You have a wonderful life, and your concentration should be focused on enjoying each lovely day.  I do believe these things, but there's still an underlying sadness that I haven't been able to shake off.

Here's why I've been feeling sad:  The upcoming milestones of a 60+ life are not ones I want to experience.  Losing my husband?  Watching friends die?  Declining health?  Losing my marbles?  None of those seem like experiences that I'm jumping up and down to encounter.  

Instinctively I know this is not a good mental place to be.  I guess it's time to follow my tried and true prescription for getting myself into a good place.  It's such a struggle to change your mentality.  What is it about human nature that tends to focus on hand wringing?  I've spent way too much time in the past months focusing on the what if, how will I cope, what will I do. 

It's time to grit my teeth and refocus:  Here is my list of blessings that have been rained down upon me:  1)  I have a husband who loves me without bounds and makes me feel like I'm still the bee's knees.  2)  I have a daughter who admires me and loves me almost more than she can tell me.  3)  I have more friends than I can count, and I'm still making new ones.  4)  I have intense friendships with many people of all different ages and backgrounds that enrich my life immeasurably each day.  5)  I'm living a long held personal dream.  6)  I've become an artist and writer (apparently) allowing me to use my creative energy.  7)  I can walk.  8)  I'm still learning new things.  9)  I'm surrounded by the kind of beauty only God can create.   There are, of course, many more, but I wanted to hit the high points and not focus on minutiae.  

As I look over this list, I've realized the obvious - something so easy to forget - each day of my life holds possibilities, and yes, some of the possibilities will be ones I'd rather not have, but so, so many more of life's possibilities are chances to be faithful, be loving, be generous, be helpful, be compassionate, be clever, be interesting and to laugh.   I think that's the life I'm going to focus on - and age doesn't have anything to do with those possibilities, only attitude.

So, I've managed to cheer myself up.  It will last a while, but it's going to take that grit to turn my heart away from the sad milestones ahead of me.  OK, I'm done.  I'm going to print out my list and post it where I can read it until I get this sadness business chased away.  

I've received lots and lots of birthday wishes today, and I do appreciate the thoughts.   My friends will be somewhat alarmed upon reading this since I'm most often that 'glass is not only half full, but usually brimming over with something great' kind of a woman.  Maybe facing these not so positive feelings will make me appreciate my usual optimism.  Smiles, hugs and squeezes to everyone who has thought of me today. 

You know I'm feeling better when I can post this picture celebrating a strawberry snowcone!              

Northern New Hampshire Fall Foliage

Yesterday we went on a hike along the Pemiwagasset River, and today we went on a scenic drive to northern New Hampshire.  The pictures are of the incredible fall foliage, and we have it on the authority of two natives we ran into today that this isn't even 'peak'.  We had lunch on top of a mountain today with a firetower on top of it.  We walked up 5 flights of stairs, and we got a birdseye view of the White Mountains.  The pictures are so amazing.  We just drove along a few rural roads, and almost every mile was a panorama of color.  As Drake said today, "It's like looking at fireworks!"  I've seen trees in colors that are so bright and vivid that they look fake. 
I didn't expect the peace and rural nature of the White Mountains to affect me so strongly.  II've always takedn some pride in being the original 'concrete queen'.  It's so hilarious that in some ways, I've enjoyed this visit more than I did New York.  There's a peace and contentment up here that is difficult to convey in words.  The first thing I do every morning is 'check the mountains'  Some days it's clouds and rain.  Other days brilliant sunshine, or like today, fog in the valley, and clear above.  It's a wonderful way to start the day.  I look forward to the sunset each day knowing that it isn't the result of pollution (like it was in Arizona).  Ironically, we haven't made any friends here - I don't know why.  Well, actually, I do.  I've been feeling secluded here, and distant.  I haven't wanted to make any connections.  However, I guess I can't keep my true nature down.  I have been making friends with two ladies - I'm helping them learn to use their new laptops.  I won't embarrass them by telling their ages, but let's just say that they are 'mature'.  I got two jars of jam in payment - blackberry and raspberry from berries they picked themselves - braving the bears.   

We came here for the fall foliage, and so far, it hasn't disappointed.  You be the judge:
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireAutumn?authkey=Gv1sRgCNPh3qbp4bqgowE#

 

The City of Montreal

We returned this week from a three day trip to the city of Montreal in Quebec, Canada.  Montreal is only 150 miles from Franconia, so it seemed like the ideal time to see the city.  Ironically, this is the first foreign city I ever visited.  When I was 17, Mr. and Mrs. Pendley, the adult leaders of my MYF (Methodist Youth Fellowship for you heathens), took about 40 teenagers from Tulsa, Oklahoma to see World Exposition 1967 in Montreal, Canada - better known as Expo '67.  Mrs. Pendley, who actually had a full time job - almost unheard of in that era, was the organizing genius behind this trip and managed to get this trip off the ground in a time prior to computers and cell phones.  Off the ground is a little misleading:  I took the longest bus ride of my life to get from Tulsa to Montreal.  We had a pretty tight budget since we all came from families that were middle class at best.  For instance, my Dad was an electrician, and there wasn't any discretionary money in our household for travel.  In addition to doing the actual nuts and bolts of getting 40 teenagers and 10 chaperons from point A (Tulsa) to point B (Montreal), the Pendleys mounted what had to have been a year of weekends filled with fund raising so we could all afford to make the trip.  It was so worth it.  New York City and Washington D.C. the previous year (same MYF group) followed by Montreal, Canada just before the start of my senior year in high school made me understand there was a much wider world out there than could be found in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Thirty seven years later, Montreal echoed with deju vu' for me.  Montreal is a port city on the St. Lawrence River which empties out into the Atlantic.  There are a pair of islands in the center of the river one of which was the site of Expo '67. (The island, incidentally, was built up from all the dirt and rock dug out to build the subway system in Montreal.)    Countries from all over the world built pavilions to display their cultures and present their expositions.  It was amazing and exciting.  In those simpler times, we were just turned loose on the Exposition grounds and given check times and points.  Then we were off again.  High points for me:  The monorail that circled the exposition.  My first viewing of 'real art' - I saw The Pieta by Michelangelo - it was in the Italian pavilion.  Exposure to different styles of architecture - I especially remember the Asian pavilions with their distinctive architectures.  And, of course, the United States pavilion which was a clear geodesic dome!

Today, what's left is Habitat '67 - a series of interlocking concrete blocks which was supposed to be the housing of the future - now a condominium development, the French pavilion which is Casino Montreal, and off in the distance, we saw the clear geodesic dome of the USA pavilion.  I never did find out what it's used for today. 


Montreal was deja vu' in more ways than my sketchy memory of 37 years ago.  It was New Orleans revisited.  I think if New Orleans had retained its French language, it would be a dead ringer for Montreal.  Oh, with the exception that Montreal is about 3000% cleaner than New Orleans.  There's the similar French historical component, a similar founding time-line (late 1600's), a port economy, and a takeover of the city by English speaking entrepreneurs.  The BIG difference is that the French language made a comeback in Montreal while it died out in New Orleans. 

The language element has stamped a character on Montreal that is both charming and infuriating.  Quebec is an island of French in a sea of English.  Since the 1960's Quebecians have been militant about  maintaining the French language inside the province.  This is not a dual language city.  ALL signs for EVERYTHING are in French, and if you're lucky, with tiny, little English translations underneath the French.  An example of infuriating:  We couldn't figure out how to buy a 3 day metro card (which you can only get from a machine) because there was no English option until you got to the third step of a four step process.  Thank heaven there was a metro employee sitting on a stool next to the machine helping tourists like us.  It kind of defeats the purpose of the machine, but we were grateful for his help.  Also infuriating, was the tour guide on the bus tour we took:  Her English was limited at best, and it really affected her ability to tell us about the city - the reason we went on the tour.  We were grateful for the metro because we didn't have to drive anywhere.  There was no English translation on any road sign which made driving a little too adventurous in a strange city. 

Montreal is a city of churches - both Protestant and Catholic.  I got the feeling that in the 18th and 19th centuries each faith put up as many elaborate churches as they could possibly build trying to 'one-up' the other culture.  These magnificent churches stick up over the landscape of the city. The Basilica of Notre Dame built in the 1820's is exquisite and today is considered the number one attraction in the city.  I would definitely agree.  It only took eight years to build it, and the exterior is a miniature Notre Dame in gray limestone.  The interior is made entirely of carved and decorated wood.  They present the church in a great way:  there is an evening multi-media presentation using lights and film to explain the architecture and the founding of Montreal as it relates to this Catholic Church.  This is still a working church.  There are lots of these churches, convents, and monasteries that are no longer functioning religious buildings and have been converted to private residences.  The other 'big' church is called The Oratory, dedicated to St. Joseph.  It has 192 steps leading up to it which the faithful on feast days sometimes climb on their knees.  This was an impressive building.

Just as in New Orleans, there is an 'old city' (the "Vieux Carre" in New Orleans, called the "Vieux Montreal" up here.)  There's a little 18th century French architecture left, and lots of 19th century Victorian architecture.  The 'old city' is entirely made of gray limestone - a legal requirement in the 1800's for fire protection.  This was the commercial heart of the city, and a destructive fire so common in the era of oil lamps and open fire places would have been much too costly.  The Vieux Montreal buildings are uniformly cut limestone blocks cheek to jowl to no open spaces at all between buildings.  The older French buildings are mortared rough limestone brick with small multi-paned windows set into the stone.   I think I would have enjoyed the old city part of Montreal more is I hadn't lived in New Orleans for almost eight years.  This area just seemed like a cleaner French Quarter. 

What I did really enjoy was the Botanical Garden.  That was the best part of the trip for me.  This Garden easily compared with the famous Butchart Gardens in western Canada.  While the Butchart is compact, the  Montreal Gardens were huge.  We didn't even manage to get through the half dozen greenhouses or walk any of the pathways that wind among the lawns and trees on the back half of the Gardens.  I think the picture from the top of the Observation Tower which is a portion of the Olympic Parc shows how large the botanical gardens are:    

             All the open green space to the left of the stadium is HALF of the botanical garden.  You can see why we couldn't see everything at the garden.

We purposely decided not to take in the Fine Arts Museum or the Contemporary Art Museum.  Drake was lukewarm at best, and we had limited time.  We both felt that these museums would have been a pale copy of the New York City museums.  How do you top the Metropolitan or the MOMA?  The museum we did visit was completely unique.  The Archeology Museum was built over an actual archeological dig down into the old city of Montreal all the way down to 1350.  This land was originally the site of a major Iroquis settlement.  When the French arrived in the mid 1600s, the Iroquois were swifty displaced.  No wonder the Iroquois fought on the English side in the French and Indian Wars of the mid 18th century. 

This place was fascinating.  I had never actually been to an archeology dig before.  You descend into the basement, and we walked around the dig site where they used colored lights to highlight various 'finds' and identifed the lighted areas with color coordinated signs.  Most interesting:  Walking down Rue St. Paul to get to the museum and realizing after looking in at the models that this street's origin was the original Iroquis path along the river.  I was also thrilled to see an actual cobblestone street laid down in the 18th century from ballast stones used in the ships that docked at the Montreal port.  It was actually covered over by later building as was an entire river that was used as a sewage dump in the 18th century.  Appropriately, this 'river', originally a small river flowing into the St. Lawrence is called the Lost River.  This was a very good museum and gave me a real sense of the history of Montreal.
An added bonus was a short term exhibition about how wine making came to France.  (The short version:  Roman soldiers leaving the Roman Army in the 1st century were encouraged to take up land right where they were invalided out, marry local girls and cement the Roman Empire.  Those Roman boys who settled in Gaul figured out a good way to make a living was to grow grapes and make wine just like back home in Italy.  It wasn't long before they were dominating the wine trade.) 

We had a couple of lovely French meals; not quite as many as we had hoped, but anything is better than cooking in my book, and we spent one evening in a jazz club. Another big impression of Montreal is how 'young' it is.  There are at least three major universities inside the city, and the main part of Montreal just teems with young people in the 20 - 30 age group.  There's shopping out the wazoo.  In fact, I think the 'hip' shopping was probably on par with New York City.  We went lots of places where we were easily the oldest people in sight.  Our subway stop outside our hotel was the metro entry point to Sherbrooke University, so every time we rode the subway back to our hotel, we we were surrounded by hordes of college students.   


The hotel we chose was great.  It was very comfortable and it was literally across the street from the metro station.  The more subways I ride, the more I'm envious of the cities that took the plunge and built them.  The hotel was 'across the river', and we saved about $100 a night plus parking which was free at this hotel.  It took us less than 15 minutes to reach the heart of Montreal, and we didn't have to drive into town.  With the confusing French highway system that was a real benefit.  Overall, I'm glad I went to Montreal, but after New York, it seemed to be such a small city.  We didn't find nearly enough 'stuff' we wanted to do.  It wasn't a matter of picking and choosing and having to forego, but rather choosing the few things we thought would be worth our time.  

Here are the rest of the pictures:

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011MontrealTouringTheCity?authkey=Gv1sRgCNqM-JSA85TqwQE# 

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011MontrrealVieuxMontreal?authkey=Gv1sRgCIXUwu31w4H_Ew#  

   

Montreal Botanical Garden

Today, we went to the Montreal Botanical Garden.  This is the most spectacular garden I've seen since the Butchart in Victoria.  It was enhanced by a once a year exhibition that we got to see.  This is all about pictures.

Here they are:  https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011MontrealBotanicalGarden?authkey=Gv1sRgCLCtoYnN8qK-UA#

Technology and Us

I was going to write about the Lancaster County Fair today, but this morning while doing my tedious and boring morning stretching, I heard a program on public radio which really piqued my interest.  It was an interview with a MIT professor, Sherry Turkle, who has been studying technology and us.  That's a simplification, as her studies are so all over the place that it's hard to pick and choose what I want to talk about - here in the technology I use to interface with all of you.  What I want to talk about is her idea of how our constant 'plugged in' lifestyles are changing our social interactions.  Duh.  That would be my normal reaction because that would be stating the obvious.  Her more important questions concern how technology is helping and hindering the value of personal solitude and reflection and personal interaction, as well as our difficulties in evaluating our interface with technology and why THAT'S important.  

A central idea of Professor Turkle is that our social interactions are 'out of whack' because of technology, and she has discovered that people sense this, but aren't sure why.  She suggests the reason is we have devalued the idea of aloneness, solitude, self-reflection and communicating important thoughts and feelings.  Constant connection on a superficial level robs us of the more important social interactions.  Then, she introduces the idea of setting personal boundaries concerning how, when, and why we use social technology.

I can now just hear all my anti-technology friends saying, yes, yes, we've been telling you technology is EVIL and wrong!  My answer is no, you're missing her point, and I haven't explained it well enough.  She is not anti-technology, but instead is suggesting that overindulgence in using social technology is distorting basic relationships.  Here's what I think:

First, my use of social technology is an attempt to maintain relationships with my friends.  When I started writing this blog, one of the main motivations was to keep communicating with my friends, so that I didn't wind up with a bunch of people who I only interacted with through the once a year Christmas card.   What I've discovered is that many people who read this blog don't see my communication with them as a dialogue or even a correspondence that needs response.  I have a lot of passive readers who enjoy peeping into my doings, but don't feel compelled to offer anything in return.  Would you ignore a telephone call, a knock at the door?  By contrast, if we constantly respond electronically (blogs, facebook, email, texts, twitter), at what point are we overwhelmed?  Just look at that list for starters.  I know people who are constantly doing SOMETHING electronically.  And, yes, it IS isolating  to be so completely electronically engaged which seems counterintuitive because we ARE interacting with other people when we blog, email, facebook, twit, text.       

There's  one of my points.  How much right to I have to intrude?  How obligated are you to respond?  Is email correspondence?  Does it always have to be answered?  What about texts, twitters, blogs?  Are you already drawing personal boundaries concerning technology either passively or actively?  Do you have multiple email accounts as a way to segregate and compartmentalize your technology?  Do you view your emails as all equally important, or do you have a criteria for the 'delete' button.  Do you reflexively text as if you've been hit by one of those little rubber hammers the doctor uses to check you reflexes?  Part of the problem in drawing technology boundaries (how much is too much) is that our work is now so intertwined in our use of technology and this has encouraged the blurring and knee jeek reaction to social technology.  Another problem with drawing boundaries is that technology is so convenient.  As the professor points out, we are still coming to terms with defining this tool, and our evolution is still in the infant stage.    

I've been knashing my teeth and been constantly frustrated up here in yonderville because I'm not as 'connected' as I want to be.  By that I mean I can't access information that makes it easier to live in a physical place I'm not completely familiar with.  I LIKE looking up telephone numbers, locations, choices, maps, directions and answers to questions that pop up while navigating life.  That's usually not possible up here.  I feel like I'm living in a throw-back situation, and it's not OK.  Yes, that's how I feel:  It's not OK.  The telephone book is not good enough anymore for the way I live my life.  I don't feel that the informational use of technology is intrusive.  It's just the opposite.  On the informational level, technology does allow me to reach people on a quick and appropriate level that's convenient for both the seeker and the recipient.  (I don't have to hear your voice to get the address of your restaurant or how to get there.)    

What's important is learning how to separate the informational use of technology from the social use of technology.  Those uses are totally different animals.  When the Facebook inventor makes the statement "privacy is no longer a social norm", no one blinks an eye.  There's my point:  Where does personal privacy start?  Notice, I used the word PERSONAL - meaning, what is socially shared using technology, what isn't shared, and what shouldn't be shared.  My use of social technology tends to reflect my personality - which is wide open (big surprise to everyone, right?).   There's very little I won't share about what I'm thinking and who I am.  I'm comfortable with that level of intimacy, but I recognize that many people aren't.   When my close friends don't respond to me electronically on a personal level, I feel a great deal of frustration and of being abandoned since I can't be up close and personal any other way right now.   On the other hand, sometimes it's difficult to be personally involved electronically because of the 'big brother is watching' issue. 

The 'big brother factor' notwithstanding, I've chosen to be personally open electronically as my way of trying to combat what I think is the true about social technology:  It's mind numbingly superficial and personally unfulfilling.   (I'm eating a pizza right now, driving to work, playing Farmville, etc., etc., etc. - go back and read your old Facebook pages or texts if you don't believe me.) There's almost no conversation about anything important or meaningful.  We delude ourselves that we are interacting when in actuality we are just projecting our loneliness without reflection or point. I have ONE friend who contributes thought provoking ideas and personal challenges via Facebook.  I hunger for her entries because they always make me THINK about something important.  If you aren't SOMETIMES telling me something meaningful on your Facebook page, then I'm not just bored with your entries, but I'm sad and annoyed by your inability or unwillingness to share WHO YOU ARE.   If you are unwilling or unable to share something important, then ask yourself why are you making these meaningless entries?  What's the point?  Those are the types of questions that we need to start asking and answering about ourselves and our use of social technology.

The same with email:  Everyone knows that I don't 'forward' third party emails, but I always answer personal emails.  I find people are way too eager to forward someone else's opinion rather than take the time to tell me their own about a subject they must care about since they insist on sharing someone else's views.  I know what my political views are, and I'll be happy to share them with anyone - personally.  The same goes for inspirational emails.  What inspires me is personal interaction.  I would rather have your words to me than some stranger's words.  I would prefer something awkwardly said that was directly from you rather than dressed up by a stranger.  These are ways I set personal boundaries on my social technology.  

I guess I'm saying that while I do use this blog as a travel log, or for humorous observations, I also force myself to use it as a platform to make my friends think occasionally, as well as share what's personally important to me.  Here's the final point:  If you haven't taken the time to evaluate what meaning social technology has in your life, it's time to start.  If you're not sharing something important using social technology at least some of the time, then what's the point?  I'm looking forward to your answers, but I'm also not holding my breath.                   

Pemigewasset River, Cascade Brook and the Lost Gorge

We have been so fortunate.  Hurricane Irene was a non-event for us.  One of my readers asked me to define the 'hill' I talk about where our house is located.  We live in the shadow of Cannon Mountain which is about 3,500 feet in elevation and on the border of Franconia Notch State Park.  Cannon is Bode Miller's 'home ski mountain', and one of New England's premier ski areas.  Our 'hill' is 1900 feet in elevation, and Franconia Village which is 3 miles down the road is 900 feet in elevation.  When we go to Franconia, you can 'coast' all the way.  Some of the 'grades' on the way to the village are 12%. 

The Pemigewasset River headwaters are a few miles from our house originating at Profile Lake inside the state park.  Cascade Brook joins the Pemi which flows into the Gale River (the river with the iron furnace on it in the center of Franconia).  The reason I'm detailing all this water is to give you the understanding of what is happening with the flooding in Vermont as a result of the water dumped in the area by Hurricane Irene. 

If the path of Hurricane Irene had been 50 miles to the east, we would be having major flooding because of these small streams, medium rivers and large rivers that all flow downhill joining the Connecticut River (which runs the length of the entire border between Vermont and New Hampshire and beyond into Massachusetts and Connecticut ) and then out into the Atlantic.  Our area got 3 - 6 inches of rain over a 24 hour period - steady, but not terribly hard.  Meanwhile, 50 miles to our west (Vermont) got 6 - 12 inches of rain over the same period.  All these rivers and streams started roaring and overflowed their banks, destroyed bridges, cut power lines, and washed out roads leaving islands of people stranded inside their houses inside their towns.  Remember, lots of towns in New England are like Franconia - hydro power was the engine of their factories and industrial processes and pretty large streams flow right through them.

Today, we decided to venture out and do a hike that follows the path of one of the streams inside Franconia Notch State Park.  Drake had done this hike prior to the hurricane, but this was my first time on the hike.  Drake estimates that the amount of water in the brook and the river tripled from his last visit as a result of the hurricane.

I also have thrown in the pictures of the trip to Lost River Gorge.  We did this last week prior to Irene.   This is an area where an unknown River (why it's called 'Lost' )runs through a huge granite gorge.  In the 18th century one the of "Kinsman" boys, an early pioneer family in the area, fell through a hole and discovered this natural attraction.  It wasn't long before the Kinsman sons were attracting tourists and  charging admission to view the gorge The pictures tell the story, as always. 

 Today's hike is the first link and last week's Lost River Gorge trip is the second link.  You will see 'high water' in the Lost River Gorge pictures which helps understand why Irene was so devastating in terms of flooding - we've had record rain for August prior to the hurricane.

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireTour9TheBasinCascadeBrookHike?authkey=Gv1sRgCN-aj7C4o6_erAE#

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireTour8LostRiverGorge?authkey=Gv1sRgCI3w-fCJ1rOgfQ#

Hurricane New Hampshire

I lived in New Orleans for almost eight years, and the year Sarah was born there were three Category One hurricanes that hit within 50 miles of New Orleans that September.  A standing joke in New Orleans was that there was a 'baby spike' the day of the hurricane and........nine months later.  Actually, a big barometric pressure drop can bring on labor in an almost full term pregnancy, and as to the nine months later...........this is a G rated blog - well, mostly, so use your imagination. 

The reason I bring up New Orleans is that one of the things I took away from that city was a healthy respect for hurricanes.  I saw many 'little ones' up very close and personal.  When you look out the window and the rain in blowing directly into the pane and the trees 10 feet away are bent literally double, it's a spooky, scary sensation,  AND that was a Cat One Hurricane.  What I didn't expect was to have to draw on my NOLA storm knowledge in New Hampshire.

While Texas has sweltered and baked this summer, up here we have had, especially in August, almost daily rain.  It's been really lovely, but the ground is saturated and spongy.  The trees have sucked it up and put out a leaf canopy that fills the mountain sides.  We have been expecting it to be an outstanding autumn.  All well and good until along came Irene.

I like to think of it as "Hurricane New Hampshire".  First, people here talk about four hurricanes:  The New England Hurricane of 1938 - yes, that was it's 'name'; The Great Atlantic Hurricane of 1944, Gloria in 1985, and Bob in 1991.   They generally have in common a large number of people hurt or killed or the hurricane was a Cat 2 or 3.  I checked and surprisingly, there have been many, many more hurricanes in New England over the centuries most of which were not really memorable in that they didn't kill a lot of people and mostly were limited to weak Category 1 storms that passed through the region pretty quickly.  Irene looks to be a different kettle of fish in that it follows the New England pattern of being 'weak', but unlike some other hurricanes/tropical storms, this one is very, very large.  

While it was moving out of Washington D.C. last night, we were starting to get rain from the storm.  There's 550 miles between D.C. and us.  The rain started about 1 am Saturday night, and now on Sunday morning at 10 am, it's still raining with ripples of wind.  It's supposed to rain steadily and heavily from now until 5:00 a.m. on Monday.  The crap shoot is the wind. How strong?  How long?  We decided to prepare for power outage because of the abundant trees right up next to power lines, and using  the advice of a friend who went through the edge of Katrina, we duct taped the bathtub drain and filled the tub with water.  That way we can actually wash and flush if we lose power. 

We finally found New England Cable News on the cable - which is actual coverage including RADAR of the New England area.  ( I tell you, though, FLEXSEAL is advertising fast and furious - that's the one where the guy rows a boat with a screen door as the bottom of the boat that's been coated with FLEXSEAL which is apparently spray on rubber in a can.  I feel like yelling at the TV:  "Too little, too late, Buddy!  Where were you yesterday!")  I've also been vastly entertained all morning by the New York City coverage.  It's pretty thrilling to see someone standing right where we did just a couple of months ago.  The most vivid was the weather woman standing up to her knees in water right on the walkway where we lined up to get on the ferry to the Statue of Liberty.  That walkway is right next to the river.  I realize that we don't exactly have a big audience up here in New England's equivalent to Hicksville, so it's understandable that CNN and WeatherChannel are fixated on New York.  However, since the storm hasn't reached us yet, we needed a little more focused coverage on our specific area, and voila, NECN to the rescue. 

I can already see that something I didn't count on was my hazy grasp of New England geography.  I have learned how the states are stacked, and I know that the Connecticut River runs the length of the Vermont/New Hampshire border, but I really don't know the towns and roads like I would in Texas.  As I'm listening to coverage, town names and road numbers, creek and river names are being dropped like grains of rice at a wedding.  I'm glad we drove up the western side of Connecticut and Massachusetts to get here.  That gives me some very rudimentary knowledge.  Another funny thing, the state maps are the same size as the Texas map, but one inch equals 10 miles on these maps.  It's hard to grasp how small this region really is.  Oh, oh, I just heard the Pemigawasset River is going to flood.  I know that name!  It's right down the road a few miles.

Well, here's the irony:  We've had virtually no wind, but lots of soft, constant rain with intermittent periods of moderately heavy rainfall.  Now, at 7pm there's really not much rain, but stronger winds than we've seen in the past 24 hours.  Using my Texas eye, I'd say maybe 35 or 40 mph.  If it doesn't get any worse than this, I can go unstick the bathtub drain.  I think the flooding of the rivers is the last hurdle we have to get over.  As we live on a hill, all we have to do is stay home.  Gosh, I can't believe how many goofballs were out when they were being told over and over and over again:  STAY HOME.  It's hard to feel sorry for someone who gets killed when a tree falls on their car while they are out rubbernecking.  

Actually, it's obvious from the birds eye view up here that the NY infrastructure is going to take some time to get back to service.  Subway stations that we used are underwater.  Some of the north/south interstate highways have sections of high water running over the road, and I expect this will get worse in the next 24 hours as dozens of rivers crest.  There are trees and power poles laying over rail tracks.  It's hard to relate to this, but public transit moves so many people up here to their every day tasks - like going to work, going to school, even shopping for groceries, that disruption of the service ripples out throughout the communities.

I am so glad that this hurricane has been  so much less severe than expected.  I just hope that the people in the path don't think they were misled by the meteorologists.  They really weren't.  Weather prediction is still an inexact science even in this age of satellites and computers.  Weather gurus can predict the path pretty accurately, but not the exact strength.  Thus, the mantra about this storm by FEMA as well as the state authorities over a dozen states has been:  It's better to be safe than sorry. 

If Katrina taught us anything, it's that.  You can always drive back home after the damage is not as bad as the forecast predicted.  The inconvenience of spending a couple of days out of your house sure beats the heck out of drowning in your attic or sitting on your roof for days.  I followed some of the twitter traffic up here today, and there was a lot of bitching about 'hype' and 'overkill' and 'scare tactics'.  I think that when a hurricane like this comes up, CNN and the WeatherChannel should just air an hour of the news footage of people pleading for rescue and water from the tops of New Orleans roofs.  I was happy to buy a couple of extra gallons of drinking water, fill some additional jugs, duct tape our bathtub drain and buy some batteries for our flashlights.  This was a real victory for the new emergency system that has come gradually into being since Katrina.  One million people were moved away from the New Jersey shore area without panic or even bad traffic jams.  

It's been another travel 'experience' - a New England hurricane.  It was interesting to follow the local coverage and watch the various state authorities.  And the really good news:  The leaves are still on the trees.  It's going to be a great color show in New England this fall.