Little Creatures, Helium, and Sailors; or How I Spent My Friday Night

I'm down under again, and was lucky enough to be invited to a going-away party.  I don't know the person who the party was for, but hey - any excuse, right?

We went down to the local pub, and I ordered my favorite local beer Little Creatures.  Several more of them, someone decided to show us all the proper technique for sucking helium out of a balloon in order to talk funny. I have to admit, I've always been the one laughing at others when they do this.  I am a virgin when it comes to sucking helium.  The proper technique involves pulling the knotted end taut and biting a small hole in it, then inhaling as much of the stuff as you can handle.  Why have I never done this before?  We laughed until we cried!

One of the girls wanted to move downstairs where a musician was playing and there were pool tables, so I gladly went with her.  She put a dollar on the pool table and told me to find two "good-looking men" to play with us.  So I very politely tapped two gentlemen on the shoulder and told them that my friend asked me to find the two "best looking men" in the pub to play with, and would they like to be our partners?

I'm not sure they knew what to make of me, but they went along out of politeness anyway.  They were both really interesting guys!  I asked what they did, and they responded, "we're sailors".  Interesting enough, that was their hobby, their passion; not what they do to make money.  I saw pictures of a beautiful sailing vessel, which they plan on racing all the way to Tasmania.  I would venture a guess that they were both in their 30's, maybe early 40's.  The older one had tattoos everywhere, including his knuckles.  He used to be a punk rocker, but now builds marine electronics.  The other guy is an engineer, which translates to building gas stations.

For some reason, I felt like a celebrity with these guys.  They hung on every word, and totally ignored the (much prettier and younger) girl I was with.  What a great night - I wasn't looking for anything except having an interesting conversation, and that's exactly what I got.

The girl I was with was looking for a man, and these guys didn't meet her standards.  She kept looking for something better in the pub.  Which is probably why the guys ignored her.  I told her that even if one of these guys wasn't Mr. Right, it didn't hurt to expand your circle of friends.  Funny - I remember being just like her; looking around waiting for my handsome prince and ignoring the funny, smart guys sitting right in front of me. I guess when you stop looking for the pearl you get to enjoy the oyster.

Jet Lag - the Bitch That Won't Leave

I'm surviving day 11 since I returned from my last trip to Oz.  As I write this, I'm on the couch, wearing a fuzzy purple robe, slippers, and a cat in my lap.  But I am working - this is lunchtime, so I can be forgiven a few minutes to rant and rave about my present state of being.

Jet lag, medically referred to as desynchronosis, is a physiological condition which results from alterations to the body's circadian rhythms resulting from rapid long-distance transmeridian (east–west or west–east) travel on a jet airplane. It is classified as one of the circadian rhythm sleep disorders.

The symptoms of jet lag can be quite varied, depending on the amount of time zone alteration, time of day and individual differences. They may include the following:^[2]

• Headaches
• Fatigue, irregular sleep patterns, insomnia
• Disorientation, grogginess, irritability
• Mild depression
• Constipation or diarrhea

Source: Wikipedia

Yep, got 'em all.  I lived through 5 days of a constant nagging headache, which only subsided to let the diarrhea start back up for a couple of days (and nights).  Last night I fell into bed at 8:30 pm, exhausted, only to be wide awake at 11 pm.  About 1 am I decided to take some Nyquil, which put me back to sleep.  Until I woke up with a leg cramp.  Don't see that on the list of symptoms, but I'm blaming it on jet lag anyway.

Last week I got into a shouting match with my boss, burst into tears twice, and shot off several pissy e-mails.  So I took yesterday off - my last trip I took 2 days off.  Which makes me irritable, because I have to waste valuable vacation time on a day where I barely leave the house anyway.  Did I mention that irritability is one of the symptoms?

NASA estimates that west-to-east travel takes one day to recover for each time zone crossed.  Brisbane is 15 hours ahead of us, so by their estimation I've only got 4 more days to endure this bitch.  But I'm heading back to Australia April 7, so let the games begin all over again!

Taking Care...of Myself

First, an update on Jewel the black bear - she had two cubs, and the researchers have named them Fern and Herbie!  I still check in on the bears - it's a great way to pass the time in Australia.  And yes, I'm in Australia again.

I spent 3 weeks here last month, and I'm 1 day short of 2 weeks this month.  I love the city (Brisbane), and the people, but geez, I miss home too!  The work is challenging, frustrating, fascinating, infuriating, fun, and tiring all at the same time.  During my last trip my Aunt and Uncle both died (husband and wife), and I still feel like I haven't dealt with that yet.  My uncle was my Mom's favorite brother, and his wife was my Mom's best friend.  But it feels like I've been swept up in a wave that's rushing away from the shore; away from everything I love; everything I need to pay attention to.

My day starts really early.  When I arrived, Brisbane was 16 hours ahead of Dallas.  The easy way to calculate that is to take the current time in Brisbane, subtract 4, and that's the time in Dallas, except reverse the morning to night and vice versa.  This weekend though, Dallas changed to daylight savings time, which means we only subtract 3.

So if I want to talk to my colleagues in Dallas (and I often do), I have a window of opportunity: from about 5 am Brisbane time (2 pm DFW) to 8 am Brisbane (5 pm DFW).  I need to work Saturday here, since it's Friday in DFW, but no relief Monday, since the customer is busy that day.

I'm not complaining - it could be worse in so many ways.

But today I voiced a dream.  Someday, I want to hang up my traveling shoes and move somewhere not Texas (Minnesota I hope, but I'm keeping the dream open just in case).  I want to contribute as much as I do today to my work, but without ever leaving home.  I'd have a lovely organic garden, and keep chickens in the backyard for the eggs.  I'd always have at least 2 cats, whom would of course never leave the house (I do want those chickens to be happy).

I'd rarely if ever have to pay for a petsitter, a house cleaner, or a lawn mower.  That alone would save me about $500 a month, which I could put towards more plants, or chickens, or chicken feed.

And you know what?  I don't care if I live in a camper, an apartment, or a mansion.  My dream isn't the house I live in, the car I drive, or the power I have.  It's about contributing, loving, and taking care of myself.

One more day here in Australia, three weeks in Fort Worth, then back again.  Then it's time to move to my Summer Palace!

If It's January, I Must be Going to Australia

I don't feel like I've traveled much in the past year.  But in the past 4 months?  Yeah.

October was Spain and Italy.  November was San Francisco and Seattle.  December - Ethiopia.

It's January, and now I'm headed to Brisbane, Australia.  Could be for 2 weeks, could be for a month.  Heck, I'm supposed to leave tomorrow and I don't even know if I have tickets yet, so why would I know how long I'm going to be there?

No wonder I've been feeling a little harried these days.  I remodeled my upstairs somehow in the midst of all this travel, and sold my 2nd car.  I will sign over the title and collect the cash tomorrow as soon as the bank opens.  Right before I leave for the airport.  I got to see the NDSU Bison win the NCAA Football Division 1 championship, and my niece sent me video that shows us rushing the field after the game.  Best weekend ever!

One of my cats showed me how HE felt about my stress level last night by peeing and pooping in my bed.  I know from previous experience that it does me no good to fuss at him - I'm better off keeping him as calm as possible.  Between Ethiopia and now he hasn't done this at all, probably because I was home for a change and not racing around getting ready to leave again.

Speaking of critters, I've been riveted the last couple of nights by a black bear named Jewel, who lives in Ely, Minnesota.  She's about to give birth, and researchers have put a camera and microphone in her den.  Thousand of people have been glued to their computer screens watching her every move, from "counting" her fingers, eating snow, stretching, and yawning to listening to her snore/moan in her sleep.  She's sound asleep right now - I think it was false labor.  Check out www.bear.org if you want to watch Jewel yourself...or Lucky, Honey, or Lily, all who have cameras in their dens too.

One more load of laundry and I'm off to bed.  I'll be dreaming of summer and snuggling with bear cubs, er, I mean kittens.

Gratitude Letter, Part 3

In part 3 of Dad's letter to his folks, he describes some of his adventures, including a run-in with a drunk beggar.

...

I will never be a city boy although I like it in the city.  I like the excitement and above all I get a bang out of watching people and trying to imagine what kind they are.  I don't like to have to constantly keep feeling of my pocket to see if my billfold is still there though.
A drunk fellow approached me on the street last Friday night and wanted some money to get coffee.  I said "I wouldn't give you any money as long as you can afford to get drunk".  He got angry and started threatening me.  He didn't know me from Adam and he said, "you better not report for work tomorrow morning" and then walked off.

Later I ran into him again and said "hello pal".  He stopped and looked at me and said, "where have I seen you before"?  I told him he never had.  He wanted a cigarette and I gave it to him.  He was so drunk he could hardly stand up.  He talked to me awhile and then asked me if I had any money and I said "sure, lots of it".  He said "give me some".  I wanted to know what for and he said "to buy a drink".  I started laughing and said that before I would give him any money for a drink I would buy myself one.  He got mad again and walked off.  Things like that make a city interesting.  Of course no matter what you do or say, you know it doesn't make any difference because you will never see the people around you again anyway.

Fred was just up and we decided to eat and then take a long walk into the old part of Brookline.  It will be about a four or five mile walk but I enjoy them.

In your letter Dad you asked if I was coming home if inducted into the army.  I cannot see any sense in doing so because of the cost.  $40 for a railroad ticket is a lot of money.  However if after taking my physical here and if I pass, I get two weeks furlough and might come home then.  No better way of spending my money that I know of.  No word from the draft board as yet.

Your loving son,

Clayton

P.S.  My diploma will arrive in a few days.  Guard it!  Represents 5 years of my life.

Gratitude Letter, Part 2

Dad had just graduated from Iowa State College, was visiting Boston, and decided to thank his parents for his education.  In part one, he enumerated the ways his parents had helped him both financially and emotionally through his five (5!) years of college.  He received his Bachelor's of Science degree in Horticulture.

Part two is a snapshot of the place and time he was in - Boston in August of 1942.

...

Additional thanks are in order to you Mom for sending me such grand letters the past week.  I have appreciated them more than I can ever say.  I received the cigarettes and they are very welcome.  It means $1.60 more that I can save.

Quite a few things have happened since the last time I wrote even though it was only a few days ago.  The stevedores and another group went on strike in the terminal Monday morning tying up the entire food supply for the city of Boston and surrounding territory as far north as New Hampshire.  They, the strikers, wanted $42 for a 40-hour week instead of $36 for 48 hours.  They wouldn't let any trucks in to unload the produce except government agencies.  Thousands of dollars of produce was out of refrigeration and was starting to spoil.  The strike was settled yesterday afternoon about two o'clock for thirty days and then if nothing definite is done they will strike again.  In case they do the government is likely to step in and take over.

I hope the crops in North Dakota get threshed before anything happens to them this year.  I hope Dad that you manage to find storage room for all of the wheat.  I would give a lot to be home now to see the waving fields of grain, the flat prairies, and just generally a good country where one can stand in his back yard and see for several miles.

...

Part three covers more of Dad's adventures in Boston, as well as his attitude towards beggars and drunks.

Gratitude Letter Part One

Although I am deeply grateful for many things in my life, I thought it might be interesting to read a letter written from my father to his parents upon graduating from college.  Written in 1942, he knew there was a chance he'd have to go to war (he didn't pass the physical, so he didn't go), and was experiencing the "big city life" of Boston.

It's a long letter, so I'm going to split it into a few blog posts.

August 5, 1942

Dear Folks,

Today I received my diploma from Iowa State College.  It set me to thinking and one of my thoughts was whether or not I have ever thanked the two of you for my education.  It is hard to put into words the thanks that both of you deserve for all you have done for me the last five years.  You have made it possible for me to get something that no matter what happens, no one can take from me.  A man's education is his own and he cannot be deprived of it once he has it.

The things that both of you have gone without and which I have not known about are probably innumerable.  My education cost you a tidy sum of money--approximately four thousand dollars more or less.  The things that both of you could have had with that money are hard to think of.  When I think of the trips, the furniture, the clothes, and all of the other things which you could have had, I can only say thanks a lot.  Whereas many of my classmates in school have had to work for their education, I have merely had to write you Dad and a check was forthcoming.  You stood the expense of a car for me so that I could have more additional fun.  I hope that some day I can repay both of you tenfold but I don't think it possible.  When I have written homesick letters, you Mom have always sent a cheerful one in return, cheering me up and realizing the world isn't such an awfully bad place.  When I have had a problem that bothered me I knew that I could always turn to you Dad and get the proper solution.

Many many times Dad that you haven't known about, I have been on the verge of quitting school and Mom has talked some sense into me.  Knowing how much my getting a college education meant to both of you, I just couldn't let you down.  I was just a mediocre student but I felt that an education did not consist in merely knowing the assignments out of a book.  I'm proud of both of you and when I was thinking of the past five years after receiving my diploma, I again realized that I have the best two parents any fellow could possibly ask for and my hope is that I have fulfilled your dreams for me.  If we were only living in a more settled world I would prove to you that your faith in me has not been in vain.  These next few years are going to be tough even if I do not have to go into the army, but your son is going to win out in the end.  Thanks for everything, you're both just simply swell.