blog (June, 2003)
one of these days
"I think that one of these days," he said, "you're going to have to find out where you want to go. And then you've got to start going there. But immediately. You can't afford to lose a minute. Not you."
-- J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (Mr. Antolini to Holden)
i've drawn the conclusion it's all an illusion
My boys arrived Wednesday. They're around 12 years old and there are seven of them in my bunk, of which I share counselor duties with an Andy from Minnesota. The computer lab is coming along well, although there's still tons to be done; tonight I'm up making sure about 200 digital photos taken today make it up onto the camp website before the morning.
Yesterday I talked to myself. Well, normal, I guess. Ok, I talked to myself while I was out running. And to tell the truth, I talked to myself about talking to myself, while I was out running.
I reminded myself that if anyone was in the area and heard me, they would think I was crazy, but I think I was crazy to remind myself of anything. How can I remind my self? There was more I intended to write about this, but I must not've reminded myself well enough. But I was in good spirits. The daily run is a much-needed break from the kids, the computers, and the ceiling and air conditioning.
No poacher gunshots today. The only predator I saw was a hawk that sailed over my head, and signs of a larger beast in the treadmarked turtle pancake on the road.
the light bust through a beat-up shade
Out for a run, and I'm back on top of the world. Confidence, satisfaction, exultation. The road snaked through the mist and a thick green forest. Deer grazing. Pre-dusk magic.
Loud gunshots, and abrupt loss of aerobic stamina have a way of breaking that magic.
It wasn't like shattering glass, or ripping paper; more like someone slid the jigsaw puzzle halfway off the table, and it stayed together but bent and crumpled in a way that kind of disfigured the picture. Maybe a few of the corner pieces fell off, but I managed to save some karma by hopping over four tiny orange lizards.
mississippi hot dog
Camp hasn't begun yet; we've got a week left before the kids arrive. I'm teaching computers again like last year; the differences: this year I have a finished building to work in, a new guy to work with (Matt,) and 10 or so more computers.
Matt and I have spent the last few days networking and setting up the lab machines. They're iMacs, and I think this year OS X is ready for the camp environment, so we're installing that and basically Apple's whole i-suite at the moment...
The lab should be quite a slick operation when we've got everything straightened out, but I've gotta make sure I don't spend too much of my time hidden in here.
tryin' to find reverse on a soviet tank
Last night was The Big Lebowski night at the LBC. Gary wasn't behind the bar to make our caucasians, so we had to manage, ourselves.
Every viewing (i lost count long ago) turns up something new:
In the beginning of the movie when The Dude writes his 69 cent check at Ralphs, he dates it Sept. 11, 1991 -- the ten year pre-anniversary of a fateful day -- just before we see George Bush (the first) on the television behind the cashier saying how Saddam's "aggression will not stand." The movie was made in 1998.
notes from Change Your Mind Day
H. E. Garchen Rinpoche spoke yesterday at the George Eastman House in Rochester for Change Your Mind Day. A few of bits of notes I took from the lecture:
It's good to laugh because you cannot laugh and have a conceptual thought simultaneously.
Inspect emotion as it arises and it will disappear if meditated upon thoroughly; each time, wisdom increases.
When you destroy one negative emotion in this manner, and realize its emptiness, you realize the emptiness of all negative emotions -- cut one straw and see it is hollow, and you know the rest of the straws are the same.
Think of all sentient beings as your mother.
ease myself down, comin up brown
In consumption, I annihilated many of the food combination rules I know of, but these little triangles of unearthly Mexican delight had called me from their unformed state of tortilla, tomato, mozarella, black bean, onion, lettuce, and salsa, charging me with the duty of their construction -- only then to fuel the very temptation for and exaltation in their own demise.
calabaza con puerco
A few images from the four month trip I returned from recently. Perhaps more on the way. A bit anachronistic, but I was unhappy being unable to upload pics from camera to inetcafe computer while traveling.
From the mountains near Castellón, Spain; mid-January...
so stay with me and I'll have it made
i walked to the bar to order a special. she must've heard my voice, and said "schuler?" I turned and recognized but couldn't place face. we met last night, she said, but last night was, well, last night... but now, her 21st birthday a sunday in a practically empty towny bar, how sad... someone said an oatmeal cookie is a nice'un so i helped her on her way with that and after the shot she jogged my memory of the circumstances and happenstances. a nice new acquaintance.
later, i made the winning shot of a different variety; eightball, corner -- and (victorylap) finished off the other team's balls afterwards. we were done so the older fella in tooshort sweatpants came over and changed his dollar to metal and fed metal to table and racked. he pointed that i should not stop playing but begin anew so i whacked one into the others and embarrassedly left most of the balls down there. but things went mostly smoothly and by the end he had one out there and i none, and that meant that he had to say good game first and I got to smile at me thinking that he was a seasoned pro and i just an amatuer.