Novel Times, Novel Measures

The eagle has landed…

I repeat, THE EAGLE HAS LANDED!! Cryptic code for a simple crossing of borders, yet one that represents a monumental moment in my life. In crossing into California from Arizona Thursday morning, many long months of work and anticipation were fulfilled. To celebrate the moment I cranked up “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” (figuring the Beach Boys would be a good musical introduction to Cali) and pumped my fists into the air. It was not until some time later when I saw a sign that said “San Francisco – 96″ that the proximity of my destination really hit home. When it did, not only did I pump my fists, I also giggled like a schoolgirl and howled like a dog in heat. At the time, such an odd display seemed justified by my utter joy. All kidding aside, the entire day was a thrilling end to a long journey across many stops and states – countries, even – over the past few months.

Thursday night I rolled into El Cerrito, just north of Berekely, and with great relief parked my trailer where it will reside for the next month as I begin the final phase of my move. It took a good part of the past weekend to decompress from the road, unpack a few things and setup the necessities – my computer and my bed. Today, Monday, has been my first real day back at the desk – both that of part-time work for Union St. Media and the pressing tasks of job searching and house hunting. Throughout the past four days a lot has weighed on my mind, especially as I putter around the space of my gracious hosts and dear friends, Alec and Elizabeth. The house is beautiful and spacious, with a perfect studio/spare room in the backyard. The neighborhood is East Bay suburban – plenty of tidy, one-story domiciles with arid front yards packed into dense clusters. All in all a great place for me to get on my feet, but also very insular. Those times when I have had the opportunity to get out in the Bay area at large have been much more of the experience I have expected. Consequently, I teeter between worlds, looking forward to truly settling down here, wherever that may turn out to be.

Now that I have had a few days to let the excitement sink in and my mind adjust to these new settings, a complex set of emotions have developed. At first my tired body and ragged, coffee-bent nerves needed some down time which I sensed and observed. Close at the heels of this fatigue was another natural reaction, a sense of being overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by not only the vastness of this place but the foreign character as well. Sure I’ve been here before, done my research, blah, blah, blah, but how can that compare to confronting the real thing? I’ve been quietly humbled by how much I don’t know, simple things I have taken for granted in the past – everything from the local auto parts store to the good whole food eateries. I suppose that time will bring familiarity and ease, but there is one thing that requires an accelerated curve – the search for housing across many, MANY diverse neighborhoods. And this is where the true challenge and excitement comes into play. What an amazing opportunity to research, discover, observe, evaluate.

I must be honest and report that some anxiety has spiked this emotional cocktail. A good part of that is related to the vicious job market out here and the daunting search for full-time employment. But in the end, the many positives of this transition are becoming concrete and outweighing my anxiety. Last night I witnessed the jubliant romp pulsing through the Armeggdon atmosphere of Halloween in the Casto. In a few weeks I hope to attend a symposium on the life and times of Gregory Bateson to be held at U.C. Berkeley. And just this afternoon, while jogging through the windy, hilly streets to the East, I was afforded a gorgeous view of the bay. Streets stretched out into developments, neighborhoods, cities, and towers, hovering above the gathering dusk. In that moment I was aware of the mass of humanity that has drawn me here and become detached from my individual perspective of this place, of this planet.

And that is why I am here. While there is still a lot of hard work ahead for me, the promise of broader horizons – social, professional, mental, spiritual and more – keep me on the path of discovery and wonder, goofy smile fully intact.

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Filed under: The Road

Hello from Denver! My father and I rolled into the Mile High City saturday night after a marathon three days of bad coffee, vast reaches of desolate plains and two flat tires. More on the latter later. Suffice to say, in my eyes the trip was wasn’t too bad. That could be because my dad did 80% of all the driving! He is a driving machine. Since this leg of the trip was a mad dash for the Denver border, we did not have the chance experience too much of the country between NJ and CO, with a few notable exceptions.

Our introduction to Youngstown, OH, came about on the heels of either some bad luck or poor planning. As loathe as I am to admit it, I goofed big time with the tires for the trailer in which I am hauling my personal effects. I knew the original tires on the trailer were no good – this was verified about 2 hours into PA when a kindly trucker notified us in construction traffic that one of the tires had developed a large bubble. Having planned for this eventuality, we pulled over and swapped both tires for the brand new set I had purchased. Of course, it was only the next morning, after a blow out at the end of PA and many phone calls to fine trailer centers throughout Youngstown, that I was to realize the weight-rating of the new tires was woefully insufficient. A new new set (with spare) of 5.70×8 tires rated to 950 lbs. later and we were back on the road. You will be happy to know that we have experienced nary a problem with tires since!

In fact, excluding the tire mishap, the trip has been rather uneventful and unmarked by further mechanical difficulties. Two other moments stand out in my mind, though, which I would like to share. The first was during the morning of our final day, Saturday, somewhere in MO, at a down-home joint called Maggie’s Cafe. While the coffee was (to my standards) on the watery side and the coffee roll almost intolerably sweet, the atmosphere was worth a thousand cups of dank organic Sumatra. It was one of those times when I look up to find myself in surroundings wholly different than those in which I normally exist. My ears recognized the English being spoken, and the plates of egg and ham being dished out but the character of the room and its occupants was foreign – everything from the midwestern cafeteria decor to the plaid, denim and mesh-back baseball hats. I can’t say my reaction was adverse. To the contrary, I was enthralled by this slice of life so far removed from my own and savored that brief but timeless stop in a nameless town way out west.

The second vignette transpired about a hundred miles outside of St. Louis on Friday night, after we had stopped for the evening. While my father retired to the motel room, I donned my work clothes and set out into the night for my first attempt to scavenge vegetable oil on the road. For the unitiated, I converted my diesel mercedes wagon to run on used vegetable oil that I collect from restaurants. After a year of successful operation, the time had finally come to devise a better method of filtering oil, especially considering the special constraints of cross-country travel. After much research and some harried trials in NJ, I was finally able to use the new filter rig that night behind the Raintree Restaurant, amidst rows of tractor trailors and washes of neon. I must say that being covered in waste vegetable oil never felt so good as when that baby started pumping!

As for Denver, the past few days here with my brother and father have been good, if not somewhat trying at times. I’m itching to get back on the road and will do so at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Today saw some fine tuning of my car and some botched attempts at scavenging some more oil. The first try was laden with filter-clogging animal fats, the second hindered by oil too thick due to dropping temperatures here in CO. I’m sure to find more oil in the sunnier, warmer lands to the south, along with beautiful country, old friends and open road. Tommorrow I finally set out alone on the next leg of my travels west and the anticipation mounts. Tally-ho!

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Filed under: The Road