Running on empty at 4:30 am

I've always enjoyed the song "Running on Empty" by Jackson Brown but tonight as I sit in front of my work computer staring blankly at a game of Spider Solitaire, the song seems to have a little more meaning to it. I think we've all spent time reflecting on the path we've taken in life, wondering how little turns here or there could have led us in a different direction. I know that when I graduated college I had absolutely no intent of falling into the traps I saw the career chasers always falling into. Working 60 hours a week for a company they don't care about and a boss they despise, all to be able to afford the things our consumer society tells them they need to be happy. Well I won't say I've fallen into one yet but these days, working rotating shifts and once again losing all contact with the real world, I'm certainly feeling the painful tug of the snare around my ankle.

Owning "things" has never been bait for me. My downfall is an extreme hesitancy to follow the path of the corporate man. Though many opportunities lie in that direction, I'm always afraid of the shackles that may come with them. It's been my greatest fear since college to fall into a career rut, only to emerge middle-aged and wondering where the hell the last 20 years of my life went. And somehow, even with that fear at the forefront of my mind, I find myself in that rut anyway. Perhaps I've been wrong all along. Perhaps the path of the corporate man is the right one, waking up every day to my Bose Wave Radio, drinking expensive coffee, spending 45 minutes in my Lincoln Navigator in bumper to bumper traffic, working for 10 stressful hours, driving through traffic again to return to my oversized 3,000 square foot suburban home, arriving in time to pop a frozen pizza into the microwave and watch my favorite crime drama, running for a half hour on my $2,000 treadmill, going to bed, and then waking up and doing it all over again the next day... On second thought naaaah. I guess it's just nights like this when I'm running on empty that those roads never travelled seem more tempting.

Camping Solo

Never has there been a more manly activity than camping in the woods alone. There's something rather glamorous about braving the elements with only the items you can fit into a backpack. No cell phones, no watches, no computers, no TV's, and no one to keep you company... in simplest terms, it's man vs. nature, man vs. himself, man vs. can of beenie weenies that won't open. Yes, spending a day and night in the great outdoors was just what I needed or so I thought until the sun began to set. The idea that nightfall wouldn't be accompanied by the cosy orange glow of a thousand sodium vapor lamps hadn't really set in until around dusk. No sir, when the sun went down that was it. We are talking dark here folks, the kind of dark that makes children hide under their covers, the kind of dark that made man invent artificial light, the kind of dark that bears, wolves, bobcats, and rabid deer love using to stalk unsuspecting city folks foolish enough to go camping alone. For a few short moments I was sure I was wild creature fodder. But as with all great men, when the going gets tough, the tough build bonfires big enough to signal naval craft. So without hesitation I sought out all forms of matter that would burn, generally some part of a deceased tree, and with a single match I might add (the manliest act of my camping expedition), I started one of best fires I've ever made. The creeping shadows retreated, warm, dry air replaced the cold and damp, and the fears that had only a few minutes ago seemed set on ruining a perfectly good evening in the mountains disappeared. Once again, man had conquered nature. I had no idea my biggest challenge was yet to come.

The rest of my evening passed in blissful relaxation. A full moon, a small flask of brandy, and a book of poetry by Robert Frost soon joined the fire as my evening guests. I have no idea how much time passed as I sat before the fire reflecting on life or nothing at all. Time was told by the passing of the moon alone. As it rose to its apex and the fire burned low, I retired to my warm sleeping bag and lay for a while gazing at the stars above wondering how many had spent the night alone in this hollow, gazing at the same stars. I drifted off to sleep and only woke long enough to take a brisk, barefooted trip to the little boy's... errr I mean manly men's room.

I awoke the next morning to chilly air and a shadowed forest. The sun still had not risen above the ridge to the east. I grudgingly climbed out of my sleeping bag and went about the business of putting together some semblance of breakfast. First came the easy food, the powdered mini-donuts I had bought at a little country store the day before, a banana... but it somehow seemed inadequate. I dug around my backpack and pulled out the family-sized can of beans and franks that I hadn't eaten the night before. Yeah, "man fuel" as the not-so manly Domino's Pizza guy would say. I figured after the hiking I did the previous day I could really use the calories. Needless to say I didn't realize I would expend as many calories opening the can as there were actually in it. For anyone who's ever opened a can with a basic can opener you already know what I mean. Hook the can lip underneath, press down, poke hole in top, turn can 1 millimeter, repeat... It usually takes 5-10 minutes to get through one ordinary sized can (yeah I'm no Eagle Scout) but of course I had to have the jumbo-sized one. So for two agonizing hours (well more like 15 minutes but it felt like two hours), I cut into that accursed can, the smell of beenie weenies drifting up, teasing me. When I finally finished the task I was actually too tired to eat it and decided to go back to sleep (just kidding). I finally got to eat my hearty meal of cold beans and hotdogs but I learned a valuable lesson. I will without a doubt be bringing my electric can opener next time. What's that you say? Pop-tops? Sorry, never heard of 'em.

So the time finally came to say goodbye to my campsite and the quaint little stream and waterfall nearby. I packed my things and headed back towards civilization. When I got out of the mountains I turned my cell-phone back on and checked my messages. My cousin Kerry whom I had taken out to lunch the day before, had had a gall bladder attack and was in the hospital (probably because of the Italian food I had bought her) and an ex-girlfriend had called to ask me to take care of her dogs while she was away. Joy! The only good news came from my friend in California who had called to tell me about a radio station that was playing one song over and over and to ask me if I had added a link to my blog. Sorry Benjamin, I haven't yet but I'll get around to it soon...

Yes indeed folks, there's just something about camping solo in the woods.

A post to cheer things up

Well it feels like ages since my last post and considering how depressing it was I figured I should at the very least put something on here a little more cheery. I've added some pictures to my Yahoo! photo gallery so drop in and check them out! They are pictures I took at work a year or two back and randomly ran across the other day looking fro another photo. I'll also be writing about my adventures at the National Folk Festival soon but until then, enjoy!

A sad ending to the Taylor Behl case.

Authorities just announced that the body found in Mathews County, VA yesterday was that of Taylor Behl, the 17 year old missing VCU student. I'm pretty surprised at how hard this has hit me. The case has gone on for a little over a month, with almost every day bringing a news story about the case, Taylor's life, her friends and family... and thanks to the "wonders" of the internet, the public has even been able to peer inside of her personal life and into that of the suspected murderer Ben Fawley. In her LiveJournal, you get a sense of who Taylor was... insecure, flirtatious, wondering who she was, and who her true friends were... Pretty much everything you would expect from a teenage girl on the verge of adulthood. I suppose this combination of seeing her picture on the news every day and being able to read about her thoughts that changed this perfect stranger into someone you knew. Taylor wasn't just a headline story, she was a living, breathing 17 year old girl who because of someone's selfishness, will never ride her skateboard again and will never get to grow up.

Perhaps the internet isn't all that bad if it can change what normally would have been a statistic into the person that Taylor Behl's family and friends knew. Since her disappearance, many well-wishers have left comments on her LiveJournal and I will end my entry with one posted there yesterday...

"I am writing today as a complete outsider. I had no knowledge that Taylor Behl even existed prior to her going missing about one month ago.

I, like many others began following this case out of pure curiosity and empathy for another human being.

After reading almost every news article and watching every interview pertaining to this case, I have felt somewhat drawn to this young lady.

If indeed the remains that were discovered last night are in fact Taylor Behl's, which I hope with all my strength that they are not, then I have this to say to the parties involved:

1. To Taylor's parents, and loved ones.

I cannot begin to imagine the pain and suffering that you have all
endured throughout this process. The unwavering strength that
all of you showed in the media is more than admirable. I hope with
every fiber of my being that someday you will begin to feel comfort
and peace with this situation.

2. To all of the law enforcement professionals who work on this case.

There have been numerous recent cases similar to this one which
have been botched terribly and have gone unsolved for a very long
time. I commend you on your superior work and thank you for your
diligence.

3. To whomever was the cause for this horrendous crime.


Up until now, I actually wanted to believe that maybe this was not
a crime. I wanted to believe that no one could be that sick and
disturbed to commit such a senseless act against another human.
Now, it looks more and more like someone did indeed take the life
of this precious young lady. To that, for lack of better terms
I say, "You disgust me". I hope you pay dearly.

4. To Taylor Behl herself.

It looks like everyone feels fairly certain that you actually have
been taken from this world. If this is indeed true, it is so
senseless and unfair. You were robbed of your opportunity to do
great things. Seventeen years on this earth is not nearly long
enough. Your life was just beginning and now someone has taken
that from you. I am so sorry. It was your right to be a child, and
to develop into who you would become and be happy.

I want you to know, that you will not be just another statistic.
You will live on in the memory of all your loved ones. You will
always be thought of as someone who touched many people in her
life, and someone who could have contributed positively to so
many other things if it would have been allowed.

I know that your impact will never be forgotten."



Rest In Peace

Surviving election season

It was in the most recent Presidential election that I fully realized there were about as many idiots in the Democratic party, which up to that point I was a follower of, as there were in the Republican. Even though Democrats generally stand up for the underpriveleged (not to mention the lazy, the self-righteous, and the corrupt) and Republicans defend our right to be wealthy, selfish SOB's (isn't that what Jesus would have done?), the two parties do have one thing in common...they are both run by politicians. Politicians are interested in getting into office and staying there and are willing to say and do whatever it takes to accomplish that. Remember Jim Gilmore and the car-tax carrot? Keep this in mind as the political rhetoric ramps into overdrive. If you can judge a candidate on anything, make it their actions, not what they promise they will do for you once they get into office. "Read my lips, no new taxes!" Oops, I bet Sr. is still regretting that one.

And while we're at it lets just liquidate the entire two party system. Life is too short to get tied up in the viscious left vs. right, liberal vs. conservative, Republican vs. Democrat bullshit. Anyone with a rational mind knows that the truth lies somewhere in between. I for one will never be convinced that one party got together and somehow came up with all the answers for running our government. If anyone did that it was our founding fathers, whose ingenious system, despite the best efforts of Democrats and Republicans to wreck it, has kept the ball rolling for well over two centuries.

Coast to Coast AM: A real trip to the Far Side

Anyone who's ever worked the graveyard shift knows that finding things to keep your mind occupied is the key to making the experience tolerable. The problem is there's generally nothing interesting going on at 4 am. Which is why I was extremely happy when I discovered the AM radio cult show Coast to Coast AM with George Noory. Have you ever thought about gravity propulsion, the Chupacabra, or shadow people? Yeah, me neither. There are apparently a lot of people up at the wee hours of the morning that have however. With over 8 million loyal listeners on 500 affiliates, Coast to Coast AM has entertained conspiracy theorists, UFOlogists, truck drivers, insomniacs, and graveyard shift-workers for almost 15 years.

The roots of Coast to Coast AM go back to 1989 when Art Bell, a long-time disc jockey and ex Air Force medic was offered a 5 hour timeslot on KDWN in Las Vegas, NV. It began as a political call-in show but in the early nineties, Art tired of the format and felt with the emergence of radio superstars like Rush Limbaugh, there was already too much competition. Bell began focusing on his long-time interest in UFO's, timetravel, and other "fringe" subjects and when the show was syndicated, he established a fairly large following. Beginning in 1998, Bell "retired" several times for personal reasons usually to return within weeks. He last retired in late 2002 but returned again in 2003 to be the weekend host. The show is now hosted weekdays by George Noory who seemingly shares Bell's passion for the bizarre. Noory claims that in 2003 he remote viewed the past, travelling to the Roswell, NM of the 1940's to watch a UFO event.

Whether or not you take this subject matter seriously, Coast to Coast AM is great entertainment. Like a good horror or sci-fi movie, it can take you places you've never been and sometimes never wanted to be. Working alone at night and listening to callers recount stories of hauntings and possessions, I've often gotten goosebumps, jumped at strange noises, and seen shadows move out of the corner of my eye. It's an interesting little trip back to childhood, where anything, both good and bad, is possible.

To find the Coast to Coast AM affiliate near you, click here.

To read more about Coast to Coast AM and its hosts, go to Wikipedia