Month: January 2011

This week I read an article on the “slow photography” movement. The point is that as we pose, point and shoot ourselves, let’s not miss the experience we’re snapping to document. The “document” versus “art” aspects of photography was also explored. Most of us are mere documentarians with our DSLR’s, point and shoot’s and camera phones, but occasionally we luck out and capture real beauty. Well, at least our interpretation of it.

Toward the end of our brief trip to Burlington, Vermont to escort her son back to UVM for semester two, Joyce and I enjoyed a little shop browsing and noshing in charming Woodstock. If you’ve never visited this 250 year old gem, named by National Geographic as, “One of America’s Most Picturesque Villages,” go.

Our 36 hour “some people get the holiday off and some don’t” getaway began Sunday morning when we jammed the car full of the student, his clean clothes, and an assortment of junk food. And Gatorade because he’s a D1 athlete… Anyway, after a quick late lunch burger, we headed for the unloading. If you’ve never visited a freshman’s post semester break dorm room, named by National Geographic as, “One of America’s Scariest Places,” don’t.

Speaking of scary, after a quick check-in at the lovely Holiday Inn (thanks a lot Shatner!), we found a couple bar stools adjacent to a hi-def display to watch a horror show. After the Jets thoroughly had their way with our Pats, even icy Bill Belichick was looking for some cuddle time, throwing a hug at Jets coach “Sexy Rexy” after the game. Dejected, we walked it off a bit on shimmering Church Street and settled into Leunig’s Bistro for a scrumptious nightcap of wine and cheese.

Monday morning my Acura groaned at the thought of ignition in the single digit freeze of Burlington, yet upon my “Oh, come on!” she started right up. Clearly, I have a way with her.

Then, after a quaint Arcadia Diner bellyful of “apple oatmeal” (made with apple juice – good!) and turkey sausage, we were off to the Catamount Outdoor Family Center for my introduction to cross-country, um, skiing. My Nordic holiday is best summarized in song. So, go ahead, conjure up your best Tony Bennett and let it rip:

I….. Left my joints. In – Nor – thern Ver – mont

“Isn’t it beautiful!?” Joyce exclaimed. Of course it was, but as I struggled, head down, up yet another hill on the “flat” 5K course, I wasn’t really noticing. We were under a Crayola sky blue sky, but apparently the sun was also on holiday because it was barely radiating six degrees of separation from zero. I’ll admit it was fun, but as a beginner any loss of focus resulted in me horizontal. As I followed her around the course like a panting greyhound vainly chasing “Swifty,” the mechanical rabbit, I thought, “she looks great in those…” BAM! “DOWN GOES FRAZIER!” It happened very quickly and actually my fall was broken by one of my ski poles. The one in a 90 degree angle. I looked up for sympathy and saw Swifty smoothly gliding around a corner and out of my view… I struggled to bend the pole back into the shape of a crooked walking stick.

Leaving Woodstock at dusk Monday, Joyce pointed out a bright moon above the mountain backdrop and foreground barren trees. “I haven’t taken a picture all weekend,” I responded while pulling over to imprint the image. I clicked off 3, but none captured it adequately. On the slow and smooth, hill and dale way home, we chatted and channel surfed. At one point I glanced over to see a peaceful and beautiful sleeping face reflecting dashboard light.

I don’t have the pictures, but I have the experience in my heart and mind forever.

I’m not sure when this one oozed into my ear, but it’s been sloshing around a while, so since I have nothing else to write about, now seems a good time to unscramble my thoughts on one messed up nursery rhyme.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
OK, big mistake Dude. You’re extremely obese, literally the shape of an egg. You’re an uneven oval and very unbalanced even when sober. You know you can’t sit still unless you’re in that big, cushy “huev-o-boy,” of yours, so what made you think you could sit on a freakin’ wall? Idiot.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
I wasn’t there, but a “great” fall? I’m sure he didn’t find it good at all, and as falls go, I don’t really consider a plunge of likely less than ten feet great, and this one looked to be six, eight tops. Now falling out of a plane without a parachute and having a few minutes to think about it before being impaled on a steel-barbed wireless tower? That’s a great fall.

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men.
Yeah, let’s teach our kids that General Franco and monarchies are all benevolent and somehow still cool. And I’m sure it wasn’t all of them. Workplace absenteeism statistics alone would place some at home riding the horse for non-work purposes or playing with their new Kinect. Plus, who’s back at the castle protecting the monarch? This is nothing but Palace Propaganda.

Couldn’t put Humpty together again.
Um, what would motivate them to even try if horses actually could perform micro-surgery in the dirt with their filthy hooves? And how do you know where to put those cloudy little white bits? Even if they tried and to some degree succeeded, Humpty sadly would have devolved from an egg to a brutally scarred eggplant, and that’s only if the medieval medical staff managed to avert a massive, middle ages, black-death type infection culminating in an oozy explosion of egg-fart sudden death. It was the humane thing to do when they just kicked dirt over the shell filled, uncooked omelet.

So who the hell chose to mess up multiple generations by relaying the story?

I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. Well, not grandiose ones anyway. A simple scan of the gym in early January versus any other time of the year is the reason why. As the U2 song simply states, “Nothing changes on New Year’s Day.” If you want to quit something or start something, just do it. You don’t need the first page of your new cat calendar to tell you when. Any moment in time will do. Still, New Years Day does stimulate a personal inventory process in some, including me. Not always, but since I’m sitting here with coffee and keyboard, I’ll give it a go. “Continuous improvement” of my life is always in process, so what tweaks will I look to make, more or less, in 2011?

More: Writing. One blog post in December ties my record low from February 2005. Oh, and that’s back when I started the blog on February 28th, Megan’s 16th birthday.

Less: Chemicals/food additives. “Low fat” or “low-carb” or any other faux food concoction messes with the body’s natural metabolic processes. I’m rubbing myself with pure butter right now…

More: Face-time. More time in people’s faces is good for me and for you. Well, I mean it’s good for you to be in the faces of people that matter to you.

Less: Immersion in the US political process. The state of my country is extremely distressing to me and our broken political process doesn’t provide much hope for solutions. Last night as Joyce and I watched Hitchcock’s classic “North by Northwest,” I said there will never be another president on Mt. Rushmore because the opposition party of any potential candidate would not allow it. I’m sure I’ll be back. I care too much, so “I can’t quit you baby, but I got to put you down for a while.”

More: Work with my hands. There’s something very fulfilling about stepping back and seeing the tangible result of mental and physical effort. I’ll let you know how that feels when I finish the basement family room.

Less: Sports Talk-Radio. Really, what’s the point?

More: New music. My spectrum is too narrow. MVRadio has opened my ears to wonderful audible scents this weekend.

Less: Rumination. Be here now.

More: Caloric deficit creation. Two related, tangible goals are to 1.) successfully run the 2011 Falmouth Road Race; and 2.) not get a sunburn with white shading under my “moobs.”

Less: Time in bed. No, not that time. Reading or watching TV for 10 minutes and falling asleep at 9-ish, then re-awakening at 1 and lying awake till 3 or 4 isn’t working.

More: Travel. I’m reading a book with a collection of Ernest Hemingway’s musings on writing. About writers, he um, writes, “The more he learns from experience, the more truly he can imagine.” I hope to learn a great deal from Paris in the springtime, but also raise my awareness to learn from simply walking local streets.

Less: Procrastination. OK, maybe these are resolutions…

More: Discipline. I’ll need it to make these improvements in 2011.

Less: Being “connected.” I can probably be more productive with much of the above if I don’t update Facebook hourly…

What tweaks are you planning?