What Being American Means To Me

We take a lot for granted;  battles that were waged and won before our time... those who lost their life fighting for our freedoms... more progressed technology and the things that make our life easier... to name a few.  Growing up, I was one of those who didn't think too much about things that were outside of my immediate bubble.  I wasn't involved in politics until I was in my mid-thirties and I didn't really pay much attention to things going on in the world.  While I'm not proud of my ignorance and blind eye, I can honestly say I was more happy then than I am worrying about so much.  Looking at the world through adult glasses yields a pretty dismal view, for the most part. 

I got involved in politics in the Gore/Bush election, and we all know how that turned out.  My immediate thought was to move to another country... and Canada was looking pretty good (eh!).  The puppet movie 'Team America' pretty much sums up the feeling of the country at the time... "fuck yea... we're Americans... we're the best".  It became pointedly clear to me that the rest of the world didn't share our self-love when I was in Paris and received a rather 'cold' reception when I didn't speak much French.  Over time, I became more and more embarrassed by the air of superiority that came over the country... and while 9/11 should have humbled us, it propelled us even more skyward in our 'America-conquers-all-gimme-gimme-you-don't-speak-English-WTF?' mentality.  Yes, the world hates us, that was clear.

My Dad never asked for much for himself.  He got up for 45 years and went to his job on the railroad out in the cold, doing back-breaking work because it was his job to provide for his family, period.  He didn't graduate high school, never went to college and still did well for himself.  That was, of course, in a time where if you worked hard, you could get ahead.  I never went to college... I worked twice as hard as my peers to accomplish all that I had and did well for myself.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be rich... it's all I dreamed about as a kid.  Even my matchbox cars were all Rolls Royces and Lincolns, but I knew even as a kid that I had some hard work to do, starting out with my paper route around 14 yrs old... and the two jobs that I worked while still graduating high school with honors... and putting in long hours to get ahead.  At some point, I gave up that 'dream' of being rich, and I've never been more happier in my life then the day my life went in a different direction from accounting and management to massage therapy... and then to landscaping.  I scaled back my life and kept my debts to a minimum, not really needing more than I already had.  Turns out my American dream was to be happy... not to be rich... just like my Dad's and the members of his family that came to this country before him who started out with nothing.

With the election, I've been floundering on the different messages hoping, like everyone in the country, that someone would come up with some answers and I could feel good about being a Democrat again.  Watching the Republican convention a few weeks back, I found myself at unrest with the constant speaking about the 'haves, and the soon-to-be-haves'...in a society where winning the lottery or a reality show or sport or music contract (straight off the heels of our mothers telling us that we are so special, that anything's possible) is much more plausible than getting anywhere through hard work.  Lost in their message was any talk about just being happy with who you are or what you have and missing was any connection to the founding father's hard work that they supposedly respect.  In listening to my Aunt talk, some of the best times of her life was when they had nothing, ten of them living in one house and helping out any way they could.  With the middle-class almost extinct thanks to the Republicans, we're now forced with a choice of becoming aggressive and back-stabbing towards reaching wealth or settling into the misery of being poor.  When it was the Democrat's turn, the message was very different... full of stories of people's upbringings and how those before them were only trying to make their kid's life a little better.  It was a simple message that resonated with me and suddenly, I felt my connection back to my party, because that's exactly how I feel.

I don't make any excuses for who I am.  I pull weeds and cut grass for a living. I'd rather break my back than trample over the backs of someone else to get ahead.  Perhaps that's a self-defeating attitude to have, but I know that I am, for once, happy.  I know that I will never be rich and that I'll probably work until the day I die, and that's ok with me.  I can look myself in the mirror every day and know that I am probably more Christian than most Christians in my willingness (without punishment or reward) to do what's right and help my fellow man.  When people look back at my life, it will be my helping others that will measure my worth, not how much money I was able to amass before I died.  I don't begrudge the person who needs all that... but I sure as hell am glad that I don't the way that they do which obviously makes them greedy, selfish, paranoid, angry and never at rest.

I am, again, proud to be (this type of) American.

Being

It's been so long since I've written anything of substance.  In fact, the last time I was on a roll was probably the best time for me... I was probably the most happy that I ever was.  I think that getting things off my chest was doing a world of good for me.  When I stopped, things started bunching up in my head again and now I'm a combination of overwhelmed and angry, especially with all the election stuff going on.  There's so much in my head right now... I can't even begin to write.  Baby steps.  I feel an awakening.  Perhaps tomorrow.

The Pinata

Park -n- Ride: When Cartoons Arouse...

Lots going on... mainly getting caught up after my trip and jockeying vehicles... I bought a new truck for work and gave Terry to my Dad, selling his (my old) S-10.  I'm about to expand the business, taking on a few more hotels that came and sought me out while working... and I have 3 possible decks in the hopper.  It's been so miserably hot and I've been trying to get things accomplished.  But enough of that for now... we need a palate cleanser... time for some cute guys.  When you're in over your head and all you can do is laugh, is it wrong for cartoons to be so hot??

 

Home Sweet Disfunctional Home

After being packed into the airplane like sardines with a screaming child who cried 4.5 of the 4 hour plane ride and two larger passengers that encroached on my personal space... a lot... I finally arrived home.  Last night, I went to Las Vegas Gay Pride Bingo with my friend, Paul, who lives there.  Of course, that bitch gets the first bingo and won a big fat prize.  I didn't fair as well, but it was fun.  The drag queens who were the emcees were very funny, especially Norma Lee Aman (pronounced 'normally a man').  They had a nice crowd and some really nice gifts to give out and raised about $3,500 for their Pride in the fall.  After that, we went over to see my friend, Michael, who manages the country gay bar, Charlie's.  We had a fun time watching the go-go boys and I was out much later than I wanted to be, getting only 2.5 hours of sleep before my flight from hell.  Fortunately, I did my laundry at the hotel, so all I had to do was unpack a bit and now I'm about to (excitedly) look at what my DVR taped while I was away like a little boy spying the presents under a Christmas tree.  You can't shake it, but it is a gift. 

Below is a basic map of where I went this trip.  So much more to see and do... next trip.

Day 6: Bryce Canyon

Monday was a wash... I was so exhausted from the lead-up to the trip and the first couple days that I slept in, had lunch with Chris and Laramee, two guys I met here, at a place called Chuck-a-Rama Buffet.  I pretty much came back to the hotel, blogged and slept for several hours.  I needed it.

Tuesday, hot off the guilt from not doing anything the day before, I got a very early start for Bryce Canyon.  With the temperature to be around 110 degrees here in the hotel area, I was looking forward to getting to a higher plain, where it was only to be around 83 degrees.  I got about half-way there, and due to a rock slide, I had to turn around and go way out of my way to get there.  It turned out to be a blessing, because I got to ride through Red Canyon, which was my first glimpse of the type of hoodoo's at Bryce Canyon, but on a smaller scale.  Hoodoo's, which look like a sandcastle that a child would make in Myrtle Beach by dripping wet sand, are the results of erosion.

I arrived at Bryce and took the shuttle all the way to Bryce Point.  Just like with everything else I've seen out here, you just can't imagine the scale of things.  I've seen pictures of the hoodoo's of Bryce, but I was dumbfounded standing there.  And with everything else, no matter what direction you looked, there was something more incredible than the next at every turn.  Looking down into the valley from up above is incredible, but it's not until you go down into them looking up that you get a true sense of just what you're experiencing.  I started at an observation deck and took the Peek-a-Boo trail down in the valley.  It was warm... about 85 degrees, but not too hot and there was a mysterious breeze blowing, with a storm approaching in the distance.  I felt like I was on Mars.  You just can't imagine such a thing as this.  I continued on the Navajo trail and headed towards "Wall Street", an almost vertical climb up through a group of hoodoos, up to the top of another observation deck.  What's realy awesome is that, while looking up, you can see all the places on the rim of the canyon that you were looking down shortly before.  All-in-all, I think I hiked a good 6 miles.

The road that had a landslide was reopened, so I headed back to towards my hotel area, stopping at a few places along the way.  The other thing about this whole area of Utah is that things change so quickly.  You can reach a summit, and on the other side, the temperature and vegetation can be so different.  Entering into an area much like a higher plain, the temperature started to drop and the vegetation changed to pine trees and by the time I reached Cedar Breaks Monument, it was around 65 degrees and almost cold.  I drove the three mile drive up Brian's Head Point, 11,307 feet high, with a view of 3 states (Arizona, Nevada and Utah).  What's even more incredible is that, from the top, with a 360 degree view, you can see Bryce, Zion, Red Canyon and Cedar Breaks Monument off in the distance.

I leave this morning for Vegas for one night.  I'll meet up with my friends that live there and head out Thursday morning for home.  This trip was amazing... more than I ever expected and a level of beauty that's hard to process.  I look forward to heading back out this way to see the other parks.

Cairn About Something Other Than Ourselves

With the drought and hot weather that we've been having lately, it pains me to see the flowers and plants at the hotel back home die off... no match for a full day's sun beating down on them without the respite of getting a sip of rain and recuperating in some shade. I look at these plants as some may look at their children; nursing them from a seed, nourishing them, caring for them, watching them grow... now if I can only get them to cut my grass or make my tennis shoes tied to a chair in a sweat shop as children should be doing... but I digress.  My dog, Shelby, a Cairn Terrier that passed away several years ago, was the closest thing I'll ever get to having a child... unless you want to count my Dad.  "Wash your hands"... "Don't touch that"... "Sit here and don't move, I'll be right back"... all things that my parents said to me as a kid... and now I catch myself saying them to my Dad.

Currently, in our country, we are so hyped up on this American superiority complex, which has created this selfish, unintelligent, self-important heir about us that isn't appealing, especially to those from other countries.  It's really embarrassing to those who are not like that and, sadly, those who are don't even realize that it's happening since it's their way of life and they never leave the suburbs to see what life is really all about.  News flash:  It's not always about us.  I see this behavior most often when I'm traveling... when you're at a national park around some of the most amazing sights you'll ever see, and the people around me are more interested in the gift shop or finding food to stuff their faces or bitching because there isn't an elevator to take them to the top of a mountain... or why something is so expensive when you can get it at Walmart cheaper.  Guess what... things are expensive and come at a cost... even nature.  All important points to make, but that ends the negative portion of this post... I'm not here to bitch about those people but, rather, point out how amazing it is when you get glimpses of the opposite.

I've met some interesting people on this trip, and one was a forest ranger... something that I've always wanted to do.  It got me thinking about what it must be like to experience these tourists on a daily basis while trying to protect a fragile ecology such as a forest or national park.  Fortunately, I think that the visitors that are drawn to such areas are mostly already eco-friendly and have a respect for resources and nature and give a shit about the planet.  People you pass on trails are friendly and give you a look of understanding of your experience as they experience it as well... it's a comraderie of naturalists, not to be confused with naturists, who are nudists.  I suppose you can be both, but poison ivy may be an unpleasant result of the merging of the two.

Shelby's breed, the Cairn Terrier, was named after the Scottish cairn, meaning 'pile of rocks'.  These dogs were bred, with their wirey bodies, to go into these rock piles and get the rodents that would harm crops.  Piles of rocks are used throughout the world for several reasons, such as marking a grave, marking a landmark or showing the way to passersby.  While hiking in the desert or national parks, I've found these piles of balanced rocks that people make alongside the trails or in the strangest spots.  Perhaps as trail markers to give guidance... perhaps as a way to say that they were there (with passersby adding a rock as they go by (an art display in progress of sorts))... perhaps their way of adding to the beauty of the area... perhaps a way to mark achievement and leave something non-harming other than your footprints...perhaps as a language to other travelers or a way to say hello... or, in isolated areas, a way to give comfort and show civilization... all things that I take when I come upon one.  But perhaps most importantly, it's a reminder of the balance between humanity and nature... and how we should cherish what was provided for us and not take that for granted... and to treat it with care and respect.

I think as with the financial crisis of late and with global warming, we have seen how one situation triggers another in ways we never thought possible.  As is with the earth... and no where is it more pronounced than out in this area.  200 million years ago, things that happened produced other things that happened and it's preserved in the earth.  Down in a canyon, you can see cross-section evidence of layer upon layer of tiny pieces of dust compounding, covered by more and more... and over time, this has made up the earth.  It could have been one 'redneck' that, 150 million years ago (although unlikely, since there wasn't beer or NASCAR invented yet), trampled a delicate root system that was holding together a hillside that triggered a change in water flow and erosion that carved out the Grand Canyon.  Everything we do has an impact.  Using too many paper towels... wasting water... polluting... littering... all things that contribute to the demise of the earth, which would be the demise of us.  I don't think that people get that... or they're just too lazy... or think 'they're American', so they don't have to do something.  Beauty is delicate whether in the case of a fragile flower or a rock.  Fortunately, there are enough of the rest of us doing our part, and more and more wising up... cairn about something other than themselves.

Day Four: Zion Revisited

Yesterday was pretty intense, between the heights, the heat and just processing the sheer beauty of what I was seeing.  Getting a late start yesterday, I decided to get going at 7 this morning, which at least helped with the heat.  There were many things that I didn't get to see the first trip and, today, I filled in the blanks.

First stop was the Narrows.  This is a winding, level trail that follows the river back into the upper canyon, eventually having you cross the river several times before basically having to trek in the river through the narowing areas of the canyon walls closing in on you.  I didn't bring shoes that could get wet so I actually went barefoot, which proved difficult stepping on the slippery river rock.  I crossed several times before I gave up and went back, as the water deepened and the rocks became more harder to walk on, not to mention the water was very cold.  Along the way, more squirrels and chipmunks and great views of the river and the occasional unique flower that I took a picture of since I am trying to be more creative in my photography, as you may, or may not, be able to tell.

From there, back-tracking down the canyon, I stopped at Big Bend, aptly-named for it's big bend in the canyon and not much else.  If you recall the pictures yesterday when I was very high at Angel's Landing looking down at the bus station... well, that's where I was today, but looking up.  Tiny little specks were the people up on top as I stood at the bottom of the 3000+ ft ascent up the cliff wall.

Next stop was the Weeping Rock, which basically has a natural spring somewhere in the cliff that the water finds it's way out at this waterfall.  Next to that was the steep pathway up to the Observation Deck and the East Rim trail.  Climbing 850 feet in less than a mile, this proved very strenuous and I was soaked.  Fortunately, with the heights issue again, a very fit English guy hiked with me and took my mind off of falling and/or screaming like a little girl out of fear.  I didn't go all the way up (it started thundering and the sky got dark), but far enough to get a good view across the canyon of not only the starting point for Angel's Landing ascent, but a little ways over on the ridge, another view of the people who made it to the top.

After a stop at the museum for a history lesson, I ate something at the lodge and headed back to my car to take the scenic car tour off to the East entrance.  Passing by the Zion Arch (a part of a cliff wall that gave way and formed the shape of an arch), I winded my way up to the tunnel, where they had to dynamite through one mile of solid stone and blasting through, making 7 windows in the tunnel to look out as you drive through.  On the other side of the tunnel, it was a totally different landscape.  Hard to explain, it was rich in texture and vegetation, with erosion and shifting rock evident with every glance.  Sandstone, changed by the wind and rain, looked as though the whole area was cemented.  The most famous example was Checkerboard Mesa, a rounded rock with traces of erosion that formed the shape of a checkerboard (See below). 

Today, I took 215 pictures of, yes, rocks.  When I look through them, I can't help put myself in the place of someone viewing them, thinking "holy shit, how many rock pictures did he take?".  I think when you are experiencing it in person, you can't wrap your head around the scale of everything, the unbelieveable beauty and the detail that you see, so you keep taking more and more pictures hoping to capture eery bit of it.  Then, when you look back at the pictures you took, it doesn't translate and it's frustrating.  No matter how many points of reference I try to make or things to put it into perspective, I simply can't come any where near it... you just have to experience it for yourself.  This is the most beautiful place on earth, as far as I'm concerned.  "Zion" is a Mormon term meaning 'place of refuge', and it is.

Tomorrow, I drive three hours to Bryce Canyon, where it'll be significantly cooler at probably 80 degrees dry heat, compared to 105 degrees today and, again, a whole different type of landscape.