The Fabulous Girlfriend, the Beautiful Son, and I are spending the weekend with friends in northern Minnesota. It's been wonderful, with sleeping in late, smelling actual oxygen (instead of the haze above fourteenth street, in which i normally find myself), good food, wine, campfires, and enjoying a home which is so beautifully constructed and placed that Tony Soprano Himself would give the joint a nod. The family we're staying with this weekend have elevated the term "Host" to above and beyond all previous definitions i've used before. beautiful family, in a beautiful setting.
Today i had my photograph taken with Babe the Big Blue Ox. Saw some minnesota lake seagulls (they don't look all that different from the French ones). talked with my mom over the phone. planned a stop by the family farm in northwest iowa on our way back home.
we talked about the move, dear reader. in a few short days, much planning comes to fruition as i move from one market to another. this move will have me on the west coast. i'll see the pacific ocean for the first time in my life. essentially, this is the beginning of our new lives together, TFG, TBS, and I. and Patches, the cat.
the logistics are probably pretty typical: i'll move out there first to establish a base of operations, while the family travel to the atlantic seaboard for a large unschooling convention. upon their return to the midwest, they'll pack up and move to the above said base of operations. with luck, skill, and cunning, it will be located in Corvallis, Oregon. the job is a short commute away, in Eugene.
many details have already been settled, more remain. it's been a busy time, dear reader. but, weekends in a paradise like this are just the recharge i need. ahead, the last week of work at the "old" NBC affiliate, the going away parties, the last week of rehearsals with my beloved band. the last regular show. a big campfire and cookout. loadout of the computer, board, synthesizer, and other miscellaneous stuff left at my little loft apartment downtown. cleanup.
pretty much, a complete walkaway from my life here for the last twenty years. i'm more than ready.
The PA and drums stay here with the band. the beloved air rifle stays here, with the beloved Wumpus Extremely Extreme Shooting League. the in-yo-face salsa garden stays here, with the beloved Wumpus Extremely Extreme Gardening League. my friends will stay here, as long as they can stand to. For three weeks, it will be me, this laptop, the Suburban Snarfler, and I out in the wilderness of western oregon. I miss TFG already.
wish us luck, dear reader.
25 August 2007
09 August 2007
RA: 05h 55m 10.3053s, D: +07° 24′ 25.426″
One of the (very) few benefits of waking up in the middle of the night to go to work is the quiet moments i have with the sky. Just me and my old friend. Even in the moderate light pollution my small city provides, i have a beautiful view of most of the sky, while the rest of the city is asleep. And at 5:15 yesterday morning, I enjoyed the return of another old friend: Orion, the Hunter.
My fascination with the sky goes as far back as i can remember. I remember exactly where i was when my Dad explained how I could orient myself by finding one particular star. I knew the basics of celestial mechanics early in life, (unlike the Dogma-Grasping Pope Urban VII) and the concept of finding the Pole Star, the one which never moved in our sky, was easy for me to grasp. And I spiraled outwards from there, finding new friends like Ursa Major and Minor, Andromeda, Cepheus, and beautiful Draco, in the Southern Sky. Then, I focused on what formed the matrix for these constellations: Bellatrix. Izar. Diadem. Pollux. Wolf 357. Cyrra. Hydra. Mirrach. Rigel. Betelgeuse. Canis Major.
Each of these is more than a name: it is a place, and there, in these places, they are hopefully known by entirely different names.
Later, in HS physics, i learned the basics of thermonuclear fusion, and how a reaction can be held almost indefinitely by our brief flicker of time standard. I learned via the Theory of Relativity, and its inherent constraint on time and space, that simply because i could see the stars, it didn't mean that they were actually there anymore. The star itself could be gone, burned out or exploded, but the light that it sent out at 186K miles per second is still coming. it still moves constantly outward through the vacuum of Space, in a fully encompassing, expanding spherical movement.
...and it is this last concept that i love the most about the night sky. it's because i can place this concept - firmly rooted in exacting physical science - into other areas of my life. I may have real issues dealing with anything metaphysical, but here is one idea that might have a direct and real crossover: Just because something is gone physically does not mean that the light it once emitted isn't still on the way. this helps me when i think about my dear Hannah, who I never met, never hugged, never tucked in at night, and yet, still somehow, desperately miss and love.
Her birthday is approaching, and on her day, I'll find a moment to look into the night sky, locate a particular star (bonus points if you can ID the star given by the coordinates above), wonder if it is still actually there, and then, most likely I'll decide that it really doesn't matter. The light it gave off 500, 1000, or 150 million years ago is still on the way. and that is something. it isn't nothing. Light itself is an actual, physical, thing. And so is Love.
I miss you, Hannah. Happy Birthday, sweetie.
My fascination with the sky goes as far back as i can remember. I remember exactly where i was when my Dad explained how I could orient myself by finding one particular star. I knew the basics of celestial mechanics early in life, (unlike the Dogma-Grasping Pope Urban VII) and the concept of finding the Pole Star, the one which never moved in our sky, was easy for me to grasp. And I spiraled outwards from there, finding new friends like Ursa Major and Minor, Andromeda, Cepheus, and beautiful Draco, in the Southern Sky. Then, I focused on what formed the matrix for these constellations: Bellatrix. Izar. Diadem. Pollux. Wolf 357. Cyrra. Hydra. Mirrach. Rigel. Betelgeuse. Canis Major.
Each of these is more than a name: it is a place, and there, in these places, they are hopefully known by entirely different names.
Later, in HS physics, i learned the basics of thermonuclear fusion, and how a reaction can be held almost indefinitely by our brief flicker of time standard. I learned via the Theory of Relativity, and its inherent constraint on time and space, that simply because i could see the stars, it didn't mean that they were actually there anymore. The star itself could be gone, burned out or exploded, but the light that it sent out at 186K miles per second is still coming. it still moves constantly outward through the vacuum of Space, in a fully encompassing, expanding spherical movement.
...and it is this last concept that i love the most about the night sky. it's because i can place this concept - firmly rooted in exacting physical science - into other areas of my life. I may have real issues dealing with anything metaphysical, but here is one idea that might have a direct and real crossover: Just because something is gone physically does not mean that the light it once emitted isn't still on the way. this helps me when i think about my dear Hannah, who I never met, never hugged, never tucked in at night, and yet, still somehow, desperately miss and love.
Her birthday is approaching, and on her day, I'll find a moment to look into the night sky, locate a particular star (bonus points if you can ID the star given by the coordinates above), wonder if it is still actually there, and then, most likely I'll decide that it really doesn't matter. The light it gave off 500, 1000, or 150 million years ago is still on the way. and that is something. it isn't nothing. Light itself is an actual, physical, thing. And so is Love.
I miss you, Hannah. Happy Birthday, sweetie.
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