l'escalade

It began as most mornings would at home. Waking up to a water-powered alarm clock...no, really. We needed an alarm clock, so we bought one. Is one that runs on water that weird?

Dragging ourselves out of bed was harder than usual this morning. Perhaps it's the dearth of rest we've gotten on this trip, traversing La Ville de Lumières. I should have been more excited to visit the mystical boulders of Fontainebleau. For those of you who do not climb, a quick lesson. One, bouldering is climbing boulders without a rope to get on the top of them. There are often many ways to get to the top, some more difficult than others. Yes, it is quite a workout, and no, I do not wear gloves. Two, Font is revered as the largest and most developed climbing area in the world. People have been climbing on these sandstone boulders since the late 19th century.

Flashback to last night. Much to our chagrin, we discovered that the Chateau of Fontainebleau is closed on Tuesdays. Yes, folks, it is Tuesday. Visiting the chateau was supposed to be the counterbalance to the climbing and the alternative to Versailles. Why we never noticed that essential bit of knowledge before 23:00, I'll never know. After much discussion, we decided to go for it anyway. The gardens were open, and the transportation was little more than a train...then a bus...then a bike rental...and some unmarked forest trails on rickety mountain bikes.

No, this isn't turning into a Deliverance story. We saw no albino children and heard no banjo music. The trip there was expedited by our trusty two-wheeled steeds. The walks from the train station to town to the forest alone would have been close to 50 minutes one way. With the bus and bikes, it only took us twenty.

[Disclaimer, because of aforementioned poorly marked forest roads and limited directions from the Bleausards I contacted online prior to our excursion, the discovery of said boulders took closer to an hour. The weather was nice, and the sky only threatened to rain.]



While I explored a very small area of a vast bouldering playground, my better half dug deeper into The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and occasionally snapped my picture. The weather turned out glorious in the woods, and despite our utter lack of French language expertise, we were able to purchase sandwiches at the boulangerie in town, rent bikes, and find our way back to our apartment in the Latin Quartier.

Rest now for the weary. I soaked in some climbing history, climbed on some sloping sandstone, and had a marvelous day in the woods with my wife. I believe I owe her a ballet show or a back rub. I'm sure I'll wind up doing both in the very near future. If I wind up in France again in coming years, I will be sure to arrange a meeting with a Bleausard guide so the journey there is a little bit easier.

complete the analogy

Rush is to recruitment, as...

In frat boy life, there's a time twice a year that is known to all as Rush Week. In my frat boy circle, it was understood that rush is only two weeks of the school year, but getting the guys through the doors takes more effort than that. Recruitment lasts all year. Kind of like evangelizing for your house, without the Bible-thumping and speaking in tongues. Let the potential pledges know how awesome you think they are and how well they'll fit into your particular brand of popped collar-ism.

So, back to the original question, rush is to recruitment as...

Today is Valentine's Day.

One legend contends that Valentine was a priest who served during the third century in Rome. When Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, he outlawed marriage for young men — his crop of potential soldiers. Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. When Valentine's actions were discovered, Claudius ordered that he be put to death.

The once festival to celebrate love and St. Valentine's devotion to it has become very commercialized in the U.S. It is Rush Week for Hallmark, FTD, Russell Stover's, DeBeers, and all other V-Day corporations that prey on the lonely or the uncertain of how their beloved, not-quite-beloved, or we-just-met feels about them. It is one day of the year for you to show that you care about your significant other. But what gets them through that door?

The other 364 days of the year. The rest of the time that you show you care in whatever degree you do. Whether it's a new romance, and you're still getting to know one another; or whether you've been married for 50 years, and don't need to talk to communicate any more. It's about effort and making it clear that you think he/she/it is the bee's knees, the rad-gnarliest chick/dude ever, the best thing to ever happen to you. Expressing that he/she/it should remain a member of this relationship because while troubles there may be, the commitment and caring and closeness and coalition will carry through.

Rush is to recruitment, as Valentine's Day is to...?

one for the ages

i've been in a few crowds in my day. football games at the swamp tend to have more than a few die hards among the faithful. rush hour traffic on the beltway. fire drills at school. the only difference is that all of the above happen week in, week out; day in, day out; or month after brake-gas-brake-gas month.

an inauguration of a new president occurs only quadrennially. people can't get used to it because their memories fade, and rarely was it so highly attended as yesterday's hullaballoo surrounding our new 44th president. the peaceful transfer of power between two diametrically opposite leaders is rarely, if ever, accomplished in all but a few of the countries on earth.

for a large portion of the crowd, this meant more to them than just a new president. this was more than a young, charismatic new president replacing a curmudgeonly, reclusive, widely reviled old president. this was a sense of triumph. a sense of satisfaction. the highest office in the land finally attained, now the rest of the gaps in our country's history of exclusion and segregation and discrimination can finally begin to be filled in. it was really moving to see women in their 60s, braving the cold with us young folks, for the chance to see something that they'd never have dreamt of as children. to see the chests of old black men swell with pride at seeing barack put his hand on lincoln's bible and take the oath of office.

hearing the chatter around me afterwards, it really hit home how inclusive his administration can be and the sense of pride, regardless of race, that all felt walking around the district yesterday.

"i really liked that he included nonbelievers."
"he wants to bring science back into government."
"he wants to end sectarian politics."

jaded and cynical as i am about politics in general, i can't help but think that a lot of the soaring rhetoric and ideals embodied in his speech yesterday were jabs at the past administration. with bush sitting nearby, the camera panned to him at each of those talking points; he sat emotionless and silent. just as i suspect he'll be from here on out.

i have a dream

on august 28, 1963, dr. martin luther king gave his famous sixteen minutes and twenty-eight second speech on the steps of the lincoln memorial. it was forty years before my first year teaching.

that year, i saw the students self-segregating, as was the case with the community it seemed. long bred hatreds and distrusts has unconsciously worked their way into a younger generation. a pocket of white girls over here, a pocket of black girls over here, a handful of colorblind students starting to break the trend. as the years passed, most of them became colorblind, at least in choosing their friends. i was able to have serious discussions about race relations and history with them. i was often surprised by the poignant responses i got out of the blue with students that made painfully personal connections to the troubles of the jim crow south.

this year, with older students, the poignant thoughts continue. i asked my students to expand upon and revise dr. king's dream today. it's been nearly 46 years since his speech. much has been done, but i see the hope in the younger generation to continue to live out dr. king's words. the common thread running through their speeches were attitudes of peace, acceptance, tolerance, love, and kindness. the broad palette of my students makes me ever hopeful that the progress will continue.

i've been everywhere, man...

i've been everywhere, man; crossed the deserts bare, man; i've breathed the mountain air, man; travel - i've had my share, man; i've been everywhere.

florida, georgia, tennessee, kentucky, indiana, ohio, michigan, illinois, missouri, kansas, colorado, wyoming, utah, nevada, california, arizona, new mexico, texas, louisiana, mississippi, alabama, south carolina, north carolina, virginia, west virginia, maryland, pennsylvania, new jersey, new york, delaware, connecticut, rhode island. later today, massachusetts. unless i miss my count, that's 33 states in all. and ontario in my only foreign excursion. all from the captain's seat of my truck.

yesterday was the most expensive drives, toll-wise, that i've had. per mile cost, only the pennsylvania and kansas turnpikes even come close. a lincoln here, a hamilton there. 400 miles and change came out to about $30 in tolls. it's all those damn bridges and tunnels along the way.

i loaded up the mp3 player with one song from every artist i wanted to listen to and the battery held out for the trip. too bad i forgot my charger. even driving across the bronx, i know why new yorkers spurn cars. even on a sunday morning, it was stop and go. the coastline scenery once i got into connecticut and rhode island was pretty awesome. unlike anything i've seen since being on the pacific coast highway near san diego or on seven mile drive in monterrey. once it stopped raining, it was pretty nice to open the back window and let the cool air trickle into the cab. i'm beginning to long more and more for responsive handling and peppy acceleration, but i think my truck's brain knows when highway on-ramp acceleration is needed. even in her old age, she does alright. i just wish she performed as well on long inclines.

off to boston for st. patty's. may the road rise up to meet you. may the wind always be at your back. may the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields. and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

100!

'twas a busy weekend. tour of the capitol, swing dancing, and tour of gunston hall. here's some pics from the whirlwind. enjoy!