In an alternate reality, I spent another quiet, dull, boring evening at home, surfing the web and flipping channels on the television.
You're familiar with the concept of alternate realities, aren't you? It's simple. Picture yourself standing on a corner, and you have to choose to go either left or right. You choose to go left, and your life goes that direction. Yet, some believe that in another dimension, quite like our own, you turned right, and your life took a completely different path.
I'm sure there's some alternate reality where I didn't get fired from CMU, where I never met Julie, and right now, I'm sitting at home back in Pittsburgh, bored out of my wits.
Boy, I'm sure glad I'm not that version of me. He missed out on a great day.
Julie had to work this morning, and on her break, we talked about taking the train into Chicago to go to the Field Museum after she got off work. That plan fell through: By the time she got off work, it'd be too late. We'd only get to spend about a half-hour in the museum, and that's nowhere near enough time.
Our friend Kathy was in town, up from Joliet, so we decided to take her car and go for a drive. We didn't have a destination in mind at the start, it was going to be just a "pick a direction and let's go for it" kinda deal.
Before we could decide, though, Kathy remembered reading about a hot air balloon rally up in Monroe, Wisconsin. I checked the map...it'd take about an hour and a half to get there, but it sounded fun. The decision was made. We left for Monroe!
And it was great.
We got there a little early, stopped in a couple grocery stores to get some stuff for snacking and sammiches, and then headed to the fairgrounds.
The show was free, and all they asked was $3 for parking. Nothing...and I mean nothing...can beat a low budget adventure.
We sat in the grandstand, ate, talked and waited. Around 6, they started to get the balloons ready. It's so cool, watching them inflate. So simple...so elegant.
Two events were planned for the night. The first was a Hare and Hound: One balloon would take off first and only after it was up could the others inflate to chase the "hare". The lead balloon would find an open field, drop the marker, and the others would see how close they could land near it.
The second, later that evening, after sunset, was a Balloon Glow. Each of the balloons, after they returned to the field, would inflate and stay tethered to the ground, but use their burners to make the balloons glow.
To say that their glow is beautiful is an understatement. It was majestic. Subtle and yet striking.
I took many photos...no worries, the good ones will be posted soon.
We all agreed, on the ride home, that it was an amazing day. It was unplanned...spontaneous...and wonderful. We all need days like these. They recharge and remind us just how wonderful the simple things in life can be.
But now...it's late, and I'm tired. Goodnight world. May your dreams be as beautiful as the glow of a hot air balloon after sundown.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Impressive...most impressive
Here's something that may (or may not) surprise you.
Sometime on Monday, I had my 10,000th visitor to this blog.
Wow. 10,000 hits. My ramblings have caused over 10,000 visits.
That should do something for my ego, but I'm not sure what.
It's a little after 11 here. On the east coast, it's already Wednesday. That's one of the things that has really fascinated me since I moved to DeKalb last November, the one-hour time difference.
Back East, folks are watching Letterman or Conan after Midnight, but here, we can see them and still be in bed before the next day. Shows start one hour earlier. I'll admit, my television watching habits have changed drastically over the years, but I find it fascinating to see the so-called "Prime Time" start at 7 here. Oh, and it's really weird to see the 10 0'clock shows start at 9. Still throws me off a bit.
Tonight was dinner and a movie here at my place. I made pasta Campanelle pasta with ground turkey tomato sauce. Made some cheesy garlic bread. Julie had to wait for Jessica to come back and pick up Curtis before she could come over to eat. I felt bad, pestering her, asking if she was there yet, but I didn't want dinner to be cold for her. Thankfully, it wasn't.
She's gone home and gone to bed, and I'm about to do the same myself. Gotta get up early tomorrow: Julie works from 6AM to 2PM, and I take her to work. It's no big deal. I'm happy to give her a lift.
Not much to add. Just thought it was kinda cool, going over 10,000 hits.
Sometime on Monday, I had my 10,000th visitor to this blog.
Wow. 10,000 hits. My ramblings have caused over 10,000 visits.
That should do something for my ego, but I'm not sure what.
It's a little after 11 here. On the east coast, it's already Wednesday. That's one of the things that has really fascinated me since I moved to DeKalb last November, the one-hour time difference.
Back East, folks are watching Letterman or Conan after Midnight, but here, we can see them and still be in bed before the next day. Shows start one hour earlier. I'll admit, my television watching habits have changed drastically over the years, but I find it fascinating to see the so-called "Prime Time" start at 7 here. Oh, and it's really weird to see the 10 0'clock shows start at 9. Still throws me off a bit.
Tonight was dinner and a movie here at my place. I made pasta Campanelle pasta with ground turkey tomato sauce. Made some cheesy garlic bread. Julie had to wait for Jessica to come back and pick up Curtis before she could come over to eat. I felt bad, pestering her, asking if she was there yet, but I didn't want dinner to be cold for her. Thankfully, it wasn't.
She's gone home and gone to bed, and I'm about to do the same myself. Gotta get up early tomorrow: Julie works from 6AM to 2PM, and I take her to work. It's no big deal. I'm happy to give her a lift.
Not much to add. Just thought it was kinda cool, going over 10,000 hits.
Friday, June 12, 2009
I am just a fan
There's a game tonight.
As I type this, in about two and a half hours, Game 7 of the Stanley Cup playoffs will be held in Detroit, between the Red Wings and the Pittsburgh Penguins. Being a native Pittsburgher, and a fan of the aforementioned flightless water foul, I'll be rooting for "my" team to win. I've even put on my Pens jersey in support, although I am well aware it'll have no bearing on the outcome.
I'm a fan. When it comes to sports, I'm not a rabid, dyed-in-the-wool, diehard, live for my team kinda guy. If the game's on, I'll watch it. When I was living in Pittsburgh, and there was nothing better to do and nothing better on worth watching, sure, the game would be on my television. If I had a few spare bucks (I vaguely remember those days), I'd even go down and watch a game live. Hockey tickets aren't cheap by any stretch of the imagination, even the nosebleed seats. That's why I'd go to more baseball games: I could see three or four games at the park for the price of one hockey game in the igloo.
Still, it tickles me to listen to fans who say "we won". Really? You helped your team to victory. You were out there, on the ice, on the field, sweating and giving your all to help hit the game winning run or goal or whatever? You were in the locker room, on the bench, training day after day after day to keep yourself in top physical shape so you could win?
No. All you did was sit on your ass in front of a television or listen to it on the radio or plop down in some sports bar with all the other drooling, drunken idiots and yell and scream and second guess the coaches. You wore your t-shirt or jersey or whatever and considered yourself a member of the team.
You sat there and cheered them on until they made one tiny mistake. A missed play. A dropped ball. A lost game. Then you came out and cursed them and swore you'd never watch them again and how could they be so stupid as to miss that? He was wide open? How could be drop that ball or let the puck go between his legs like that? What's the forecast in your fair-weathered world? Partly cloudy with a chance of whining?
Let me tell it to you straight, sparky, you ain't on the team.
You couldn't do any better. Sure, when you were a kid, you could run or play stickball or throw pretty well. Yeah, you might still be in decent enough shape, but those men (and women) out there are athletes. They've devoted their lives to what they do, and they're the ones out there playing the game!
I have no illusions about myself. I'm 41 years old. I am nowhere near in the shape required to play sports, professional or otherwise. I'm an observer, a watcher, living some voyeuristic thrill or seeing grown-ups playing a game and getting paid for it. Do I support them? Hell, yeah! They've proven they belong there, that they've got the athletic ability, drive and desire. They are on the team, sparky, not you.
It annoys me when I hear people say "we won". You didn't win. You cheered them on, you supported them, but you didn't help them win. They won. The team won. Say "they won" or "the team won", but not you. You didn't do a damn thing but watch.
Tonight, I have my Pens jersey on. Whether they win or lose tonight, my wearing their colors 300+ miles away won't have any impact on that. Should they win, I'll applaud their efforts. I'll smile. I'll say "they won", but I'll have no illusions that whatever I say or do had anything to do with it.
It's just a game. It's not your life. Watch it. Enjoy the moment. Move on.
As I type this, in about two and a half hours, Game 7 of the Stanley Cup playoffs will be held in Detroit, between the Red Wings and the Pittsburgh Penguins. Being a native Pittsburgher, and a fan of the aforementioned flightless water foul, I'll be rooting for "my" team to win. I've even put on my Pens jersey in support, although I am well aware it'll have no bearing on the outcome.
I'm a fan. When it comes to sports, I'm not a rabid, dyed-in-the-wool, diehard, live for my team kinda guy. If the game's on, I'll watch it. When I was living in Pittsburgh, and there was nothing better to do and nothing better on worth watching, sure, the game would be on my television. If I had a few spare bucks (I vaguely remember those days), I'd even go down and watch a game live. Hockey tickets aren't cheap by any stretch of the imagination, even the nosebleed seats. That's why I'd go to more baseball games: I could see three or four games at the park for the price of one hockey game in the igloo.
Still, it tickles me to listen to fans who say "we won". Really? You helped your team to victory. You were out there, on the ice, on the field, sweating and giving your all to help hit the game winning run or goal or whatever? You were in the locker room, on the bench, training day after day after day to keep yourself in top physical shape so you could win?
No. All you did was sit on your ass in front of a television or listen to it on the radio or plop down in some sports bar with all the other drooling, drunken idiots and yell and scream and second guess the coaches. You wore your t-shirt or jersey or whatever and considered yourself a member of the team.
You sat there and cheered them on until they made one tiny mistake. A missed play. A dropped ball. A lost game. Then you came out and cursed them and swore you'd never watch them again and how could they be so stupid as to miss that? He was wide open? How could be drop that ball or let the puck go between his legs like that? What's the forecast in your fair-weathered world? Partly cloudy with a chance of whining?
Let me tell it to you straight, sparky, you ain't on the team.
You couldn't do any better. Sure, when you were a kid, you could run or play stickball or throw pretty well. Yeah, you might still be in decent enough shape, but those men (and women) out there are athletes. They've devoted their lives to what they do, and they're the ones out there playing the game!
I have no illusions about myself. I'm 41 years old. I am nowhere near in the shape required to play sports, professional or otherwise. I'm an observer, a watcher, living some voyeuristic thrill or seeing grown-ups playing a game and getting paid for it. Do I support them? Hell, yeah! They've proven they belong there, that they've got the athletic ability, drive and desire. They are on the team, sparky, not you.
It annoys me when I hear people say "we won". You didn't win. You cheered them on, you supported them, but you didn't help them win. They won. The team won. Say "they won" or "the team won", but not you. You didn't do a damn thing but watch.
Tonight, I have my Pens jersey on. Whether they win or lose tonight, my wearing their colors 300+ miles away won't have any impact on that. Should they win, I'll applaud their efforts. I'll smile. I'll say "they won", but I'll have no illusions that whatever I say or do had anything to do with it.
It's just a game. It's not your life. Watch it. Enjoy the moment. Move on.
Monday, June 08, 2009
Traffic Jams, Detours and Adventures
Another weekend over, another week started.
This past weekend was a little hectic. Jessica, Julie's oldest daughter, graduated from high school. Saturday was the graduation ceremony, held at NIU's Convocation Center. It was nice, simple, and not as long as we expected. Someone said it'd be four hours, but we got out in around 2. Still, I had my Walkman, just in case. ;)
I'm very proud of Jessica. She's had the odds rather stacked against her, since she's also given birth to Curtis this past year, but she passed her senior year with flying colors, earning not only her diploma, but also her class' Citizenship Award for being an outstanding student.
(And yes, I took the graduation photos.)
A couple days before, our friend Kathy came up from Joliet for a long weekend. Kathy's cool, and we get along very well. She needed a break from her routine, and we were able to offer it to her. Still, Friday night, her youngest son wanted to come up and spend the weekend as well, so we took off around 5 to go get him.
It's about an hour's drive from DeKalb to Joliet, but it took us about two hours to get down there. We made a little side trip: Stopped at a local Super Target to get some stuff to make sammiches and went to this beautiful little park right off the highway to eat. It was nice. We had a good time sitting, chatting, watching the world go by. When her son wondered what was taking so long, we told him there was an unexpected detour, and we got stuck in a big traffic jam.
I think we all need detours and traffic jams like that more often in our lives.
Sunday was the graduation party at Julie's ex's place. To say I was uncomfortable there would be a bit of an understatement. Here, I am, the outsider, the interloper, someone with little history as far as this "family" is concerned...
I was there for Jessica. I was there for Julie. I kept telling myself that, even as I wanted to just go disappear away from all of the relatives from "the other side of the family". I stayed, even though Julie saw my "let's get the Hell out of here" face more than she cared to.
It was uncomfortable. I suppose I could've made it easier if I was more social, but that's not easy for me. I'm not one, in social settings, to wear a false face and suck up to someone whom I don't respect. I promised Julie next year, when it's Cory's turn, to try and be nicer, more polite, more social, but that's gonna take a lot.
Sunday night, after Kathy left for home, Julie asked if I wanted to watch a movie. I felt, after the stress of the last couple days, we needed to go for a ride. We grabbed Kadie and got in the car and took off, with (as Chuck Berry might say) no particular place to go.
We ended up in Rochelle, stopping for ice cream. Sitting in the parking lot, we watched some trucks travel down the country road, and wondered where they were going. Julie'd never been down that way before, so I started the engine, and we went on a little adventure.
Turns out there was a big industrial complex down the road a few miles, and a couple distribution facilities. We followed one road until it lead to one of the numerous small towns around here...and past an old bar that brought back some good memories for Julie, from her childhood. The bar had a fish fry every Friday, and they had some of the most amazing catfish. We kinda wondered if it was still the same, after all those years.
As it got darker, we were driving down country roads, not seeing much, but just enjoying the little adventure. It made the weekend complete, that little trip, I feel.
See, that's the beauty of life. Those little trips, those small adventures, the times you get to spend with that special someone. It's not a big thing. It's nothing vast or earth shattering (or ever blog worthy, really), but it's what's important. Spending time together. Doing something a little different. Being silly or stupid.
Don't look at the detours and traffic jams as inconveniences. Look at them as opportunities. A chance to try something a little different. It might be a small thing, but it's the little things that make life worthwhile.
This past weekend was a little hectic. Jessica, Julie's oldest daughter, graduated from high school. Saturday was the graduation ceremony, held at NIU's Convocation Center. It was nice, simple, and not as long as we expected. Someone said it'd be four hours, but we got out in around 2. Still, I had my Walkman, just in case. ;)
I'm very proud of Jessica. She's had the odds rather stacked against her, since she's also given birth to Curtis this past year, but she passed her senior year with flying colors, earning not only her diploma, but also her class' Citizenship Award for being an outstanding student.
(And yes, I took the graduation photos.)
A couple days before, our friend Kathy came up from Joliet for a long weekend. Kathy's cool, and we get along very well. She needed a break from her routine, and we were able to offer it to her. Still, Friday night, her youngest son wanted to come up and spend the weekend as well, so we took off around 5 to go get him.
It's about an hour's drive from DeKalb to Joliet, but it took us about two hours to get down there. We made a little side trip: Stopped at a local Super Target to get some stuff to make sammiches and went to this beautiful little park right off the highway to eat. It was nice. We had a good time sitting, chatting, watching the world go by. When her son wondered what was taking so long, we told him there was an unexpected detour, and we got stuck in a big traffic jam.
I think we all need detours and traffic jams like that more often in our lives.
Sunday was the graduation party at Julie's ex's place. To say I was uncomfortable there would be a bit of an understatement. Here, I am, the outsider, the interloper, someone with little history as far as this "family" is concerned...
I was there for Jessica. I was there for Julie. I kept telling myself that, even as I wanted to just go disappear away from all of the relatives from "the other side of the family". I stayed, even though Julie saw my "let's get the Hell out of here" face more than she cared to.
It was uncomfortable. I suppose I could've made it easier if I was more social, but that's not easy for me. I'm not one, in social settings, to wear a false face and suck up to someone whom I don't respect. I promised Julie next year, when it's Cory's turn, to try and be nicer, more polite, more social, but that's gonna take a lot.
Sunday night, after Kathy left for home, Julie asked if I wanted to watch a movie. I felt, after the stress of the last couple days, we needed to go for a ride. We grabbed Kadie and got in the car and took off, with (as Chuck Berry might say) no particular place to go.
We ended up in Rochelle, stopping for ice cream. Sitting in the parking lot, we watched some trucks travel down the country road, and wondered where they were going. Julie'd never been down that way before, so I started the engine, and we went on a little adventure.
Turns out there was a big industrial complex down the road a few miles, and a couple distribution facilities. We followed one road until it lead to one of the numerous small towns around here...and past an old bar that brought back some good memories for Julie, from her childhood. The bar had a fish fry every Friday, and they had some of the most amazing catfish. We kinda wondered if it was still the same, after all those years.
As it got darker, we were driving down country roads, not seeing much, but just enjoying the little adventure. It made the weekend complete, that little trip, I feel.
See, that's the beauty of life. Those little trips, those small adventures, the times you get to spend with that special someone. It's not a big thing. It's nothing vast or earth shattering (or ever blog worthy, really), but it's what's important. Spending time together. Doing something a little different. Being silly or stupid.
Don't look at the detours and traffic jams as inconveniences. Look at them as opportunities. A chance to try something a little different. It might be a small thing, but it's the little things that make life worthwhile.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Video didn't kill the radio star
I'm done with terrestrial radio.
Oh, if I'm in the car, and I left my satellite radio at home, and Julie doesn't feel like listening to my mix CDs, I suppose I'll put it on, but otherwise, forget it. The archaic amplitude modulation and frequency modulation bands are a thing of my past, and that's a shame. I grew up with the radio, and supported it long after so many other people switched to video.
Years ago, while rummaging around through a record store (something else that's slowly fading into oblivion), I found a Jazz compilation produced by Chicago's WNUA. Always one to try some new Jazz-related CD, I picked it up and gave it a listen. It had some great music on it, introducing me to incredible talents.
Pittsburgh didn't have a full-time Jazz station at the time. WDUQ did have some Jazz programming, but it was limited. Seemed like they played more NPR than Jazz, and they specialized in traditional Jazz...guys like Davis, Coltrane and their like. This CD was contemporary Jazz, artists like The Rippingtons, Spyro Gyra and my personal favourite, Earl Klugh. It was a vibrant sound, and at the time, spoke more to me than the more traditional Jazz did.
Mind you, over the years, I've come to appreciate and love the older works, counting Kind of Blue as one of the best albums, ever, but back then, I was making the transition from 80's Rock, discovering there was something else out there than the big-hair bands and the pop drivel of the day.
Pittsburgh eventually gained...then lost...a full time contemporary Jazz station, but I still remembered that CD from WNUA.
Flash forward to about a year ago, when I started coming out to see Julie here in DeKalb. I'd grown more and more frustrated with terrestrial radio, especially the limited choices in the Pittsburgh radio network, and with the growing control over the medium by Clear Channel, a corporation more interested in the bottom line than creativity and variety. I'd bought a XM satellite radio, and loved it! What a concept: Variety in radio. I could listen to anything from pop to Jazz to, well, you name it.
Even though I listened to it more than anything else, I was eager to listen to the legenday WNUA, since DeKalb was just at the edge of their broadcasting range. It amazed me...music legends like Ramsey Lewis and Dave Koz, Jazz musicians, were radio show hosts! I loved it!
So you can imagine my surprise the other day when I switched the receiver in my home to "radio" and went to listen to this wonderful station...only to find Spanish programming.
What. The. Fuck.
A quick check on their website, and the answer became clear: For financial reasons, they switched formats.
Oh, sure. If you have a HD Radio, you can still listen to WNUA, but I don't have a HD Radio, nor do I plan to get one in the near future. The hardware is still too expensive, and you're still getting a commercial-based service. Yes, my satellite radio is subscription based, but at least I don't have annoying commercials.
And I can still listen to great music.
Video didn't kill the radio star. Corporations did. People more focused on profit, the bottom line, and what they can mass-market and overproduce that sounds like shit, over something of quality. Jazz may not be profitable (and no, I don't consider the drell Kenny G makes as Jazz), but it is good. It speaks to the soul, something that gets into you and can liberate and lift you up. You won't find it in the latest Top 20 download from iTunes. You won't find it in the overproduced, heartless, synthesized little miss flavor-of-the-week corporate shill.
It's something that you have to really listen for, not something that sits in the background while you mindlessly go through your day.
Jazz radio stations are like lighthouses, beacons beckoning to the listener, to guide them away from the rocks, and bring them someplace where they'll be welcomed. With the loss of WNUA, another light has been extinguished, making it harder to find their way home.
Oh, if I'm in the car, and I left my satellite radio at home, and Julie doesn't feel like listening to my mix CDs, I suppose I'll put it on, but otherwise, forget it. The archaic amplitude modulation and frequency modulation bands are a thing of my past, and that's a shame. I grew up with the radio, and supported it long after so many other people switched to video.
Years ago, while rummaging around through a record store (something else that's slowly fading into oblivion), I found a Jazz compilation produced by Chicago's WNUA. Always one to try some new Jazz-related CD, I picked it up and gave it a listen. It had some great music on it, introducing me to incredible talents.
Pittsburgh didn't have a full-time Jazz station at the time. WDUQ did have some Jazz programming, but it was limited. Seemed like they played more NPR than Jazz, and they specialized in traditional Jazz...guys like Davis, Coltrane and their like. This CD was contemporary Jazz, artists like The Rippingtons, Spyro Gyra and my personal favourite, Earl Klugh. It was a vibrant sound, and at the time, spoke more to me than the more traditional Jazz did.
Mind you, over the years, I've come to appreciate and love the older works, counting Kind of Blue as one of the best albums, ever, but back then, I was making the transition from 80's Rock, discovering there was something else out there than the big-hair bands and the pop drivel of the day.
Pittsburgh eventually gained...then lost...a full time contemporary Jazz station, but I still remembered that CD from WNUA.
Flash forward to about a year ago, when I started coming out to see Julie here in DeKalb. I'd grown more and more frustrated with terrestrial radio, especially the limited choices in the Pittsburgh radio network, and with the growing control over the medium by Clear Channel, a corporation more interested in the bottom line than creativity and variety. I'd bought a XM satellite radio, and loved it! What a concept: Variety in radio. I could listen to anything from pop to Jazz to, well, you name it.
Even though I listened to it more than anything else, I was eager to listen to the legenday WNUA, since DeKalb was just at the edge of their broadcasting range. It amazed me...music legends like Ramsey Lewis and Dave Koz, Jazz musicians, were radio show hosts! I loved it!
So you can imagine my surprise the other day when I switched the receiver in my home to "radio" and went to listen to this wonderful station...only to find Spanish programming.
What. The. Fuck.
A quick check on their website, and the answer became clear: For financial reasons, they switched formats.
Oh, sure. If you have a HD Radio, you can still listen to WNUA, but I don't have a HD Radio, nor do I plan to get one in the near future. The hardware is still too expensive, and you're still getting a commercial-based service. Yes, my satellite radio is subscription based, but at least I don't have annoying commercials.
And I can still listen to great music.
Video didn't kill the radio star. Corporations did. People more focused on profit, the bottom line, and what they can mass-market and overproduce that sounds like shit, over something of quality. Jazz may not be profitable (and no, I don't consider the drell Kenny G makes as Jazz), but it is good. It speaks to the soul, something that gets into you and can liberate and lift you up. You won't find it in the latest Top 20 download from iTunes. You won't find it in the overproduced, heartless, synthesized little miss flavor-of-the-week corporate shill.
It's something that you have to really listen for, not something that sits in the background while you mindlessly go through your day.
Jazz radio stations are like lighthouses, beacons beckoning to the listener, to guide them away from the rocks, and bring them someplace where they'll be welcomed. With the loss of WNUA, another light has been extinguished, making it harder to find their way home.
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