That duplication machine works great!

This is Licorice. He's not replacing Quentin, but he sure resembles him. He needed a home. We are very glad to have him.

He is silly. We love him.

Done and one

I did it. I finished the marathon. “Finished” being the keyword there. It was grueling, not just because of the 26.2 mile length, but because of the 92 degree temperature it reached. Black flags lined the course to warn runners that the conditions for this marathon were at their most risky. I saw people in med-tents along the way breathing heavily into oxygen masks, crying that they had to stop. Two young women were helping each other along the way; “Keep moving, a few more miles and it will be cooler, I promise”. Needless to say, it didn’t get cooler. One good cool breeze hit the group I was with after about 5 miles. After that, there wasn’t much relief to be had from Superior.

I was thinking that I’d do a mile-by-mile log funny log of my marathon adventure, but I won’t. Just some highlights.

Race start:

Woke up before 5 am, drove to Two Harbors and arrived at about 6:15. Took a bus from a local grocery store to the start line. Lots of porta-potties and 8000 people to use them (not that they didn't- more later). We all lined up according to where we thought we might finish time-wise. I chose the 5 hour mark. National Anthem. Blue Angels flying overhead. "Chariots of Fire" and "Star Trek: TNG" theme. Waves of runners poured forward, walking faster towards the start line. Then jogging. 6 minutes, 10 seconds on the clock when I cross. It has begun.

Miles 1-5:

About a dozen people are seen pissing on the side of the course as I run by. 11 men, 1 woman. Classy. No personal responsibility. Take care of business beforehand; I can't imagine being a property owner and watching idiots pissing on my lawn and on my bushes. Horray for Grandma's!

It is muggy. Not bad, but I can't wait for that Lake Superior breeze to come. Oh, there it is. Ahhhhhh.

Miles 6-13:

Making good time. The water stops are plentiful and necessary. The locals and volunteers are great. The running lines are starting to thin out. I try and pace myself with people I saw at the beginning of the race. I eventually lose sight of them, either passing them or they passing me. One man has a sign on his back: "50th State/ 100th Marathon".

No more breeze. Instead, a hot wind.

A younger dude starts a conversation with me. He's run a few of these. He is running for a 5 hour pace like me. He thinks it's cool that my first marathon is at 38 years of age. He says that he'll see me at the finish line.

I am starting to feel done. It is hot and muggy with no real relief.

Mile 14:

A bug flies in my mouth. It takes 4 attemps to spit it out as it claws into my tongue. Gross. A guy running with his wife notices me spitting and shares a chuckle.

"A bug flew in my mouth."

"Well, at least you got your protein today."

"I'm a vegetarian."

"Ha ha."

"Hah hah."

Mile 15-20:

More stopping to walk. Water feels good when I pour it over my head; shocking, really. I see a woman crying in a med-tent as she breathes with an oxygen mask with her boyfriend by her side. Another young woman keeps stopping as her friend tries to coax her to run "a few more miles, then it will get cooler". In retrospect, it doesn't.

Mile 21:

My mind is going... I can feel it....

Mile 22-23:

A blur. I know that stopping entered my head about 3 times, but I gain a bit of running strength by walking most of the time, with 100 yard jaunts in between.

Mile 24:

The 5:30 pace people pass me. The woman leading them doesn't shut up, but skillfully guides her group in between walking and running. We are on the outskirts of Duluth and are about to climb a small bridge into downtown. I try to keep pace with the 5:30 people, but I eventually decide that it's too much to do. I let them go on up ahead as I come to terms that I am finishing this thing slower than what I anticipated.

Mile 25:

I am in downtown Duluth. Running for a block, and walking for a block. The locals are great at cheering the runners on. I stay away from the college kids giving free beer bong shots to runners. Too much. I'll enjoy a beer later.

Mile 26:

Final stretch. I am running more now. I watched Amy come in along this stretch 2 years ago, so I know that the end is near. I feel more energy knowing I am almost done. A photographer sitting above the course snaps my photo.

Final Stetch and Finish:




I pace myself by walking a bit, but wanting to finish strong. I hear a local shout "Only a block to go!". I start to run. Under the bridge and around the corner to the left as the course winds around the lake front. Fans line the sides of the final 100 yard stretch. I bolt down the course and hear my name along with others announced over the loudspeakers.











And we're done. I get a medal around my neck and photo snapped. I greet Amy, get a nice little kiss and sit down on the curb by her despite the fence barrier in between us. I drink water and get a granola bar that the woman next to Amy who's waiting for her husband gives me. Delicious. Glad it's over.


We hobble over towards the car ramp, but not before we stop to enjoy a root beer and a giant peanut butter cup at the local chocolate shoppe. I think I've burned enough calories to enjoy it. Later, I see through a skyway window a billboard outside with the temperature on it.



92 degrees. Ignorance is bliss.



Will I do this again? Well, dammit, I just HAVE to beat that 5 hour mark...

As if I didn't have enough personal B.S. to worry about...

a little slide and bump into the cement median due to icy roads will cost me about $750 in tire repair. Such balance when a tax refund is around the corner.

Oh, God: Book ???

Today I went to lunch with the Atheists for Human Rights. They had their annual Winter Solstice celebration at Ol' Mexico Restaurant this afternoon, and donated gifts to the students at Amy's school. I have to say it was a goofy few hours.

They had a backroom of the restaurant all to themselves, buffet and live atheist band. Yes, live atheist band. Calling themselves "Age of Reason" they managed to screech out a few folksie cover tunes, such as "Bobby McGee", "Imagine" and "Here Comes the Sun". They were fun. The food was alright for buffet, the margaritas were tasty and the average age of the people there was 60+. Quirky, hippy-dippy folks who raise money for causes and bring notice to all sorts of global religious issues, or non-religious issues. Wherever there's an uneven balance of church and state, the atheists are there.

Unfortunately, we had to leave before their holiday skit "A Cruxifiction Story: Dad, Get Me Out of Here!"

Being a former atheist, I appreciated the candor (the agnostic label has stuck for the last few years). It's the ones who latch onto the ritual of "God Bless Us All" without thought beyond the self (ie. except you Muslims) that seems to be problematic.

Happy Solstice! Longer days ahead...

1 out of 3 ain't bad

I had some pretty fucked up dreams last night. One was that Amy and I bought a big haunted Victorian house. While we tried watching "Dexter", there were noises coming from all over. I reached out and felt a solid invisible person standing in front of me. Ugh.

I also had a dream about being in a prison riot, where two friends of mine were shot. Not that I really knew these people, but I cried like a baby at their passing.

I also had a dream about working at Barnes & Noble. Everyone there seemed pretty cool, even though I was new. Huh.

something wicked

I'm assuming the crappy facial hair I grew for "Oats" got me the print gig as the "Thug" in a new advertising campaign for the Minneapolis Police department.

There's such balance in nature...

Oh, Mr. Sagan, do go on...

A scientific colleague tells me about a recent trip to the New Guinea highlands where she visited a stone age culture hardly contacted by Western civilization. They were ignorant of wristwatches, soft drinks, and frozen food. But they knew about Apollo 11. They knew that humans had walked on the Moon. They knew the names of Armstrong and Aldrin and Collins. They wanted to know who was visiting the Moon these days.

- from Pale Blue Dot, Chapter 16, Scaling Heaven

SEE YOU, SPACE COWBOY...

My"Selective Anime" kick has reaquainted me with "Cowboy Bebop", which my sister introduced to me a few years ago. Now I can't stop watching it; midnight on Adult Swim- they are playing the episodes in order.

I never thought I'd be eagerly awaiting a cartoon like this, but it's a sort of dirty little secret of mine. Well, one I wouldn't bring up in conversation in any case. I felt pretty self conscious renting the "Best of..." episodes and movie last week at Blockbuster. Not sure if Amy would appreciate a Netflix Anime takeover, currently on hiatus.

"Cowboy Bebop" music is incredible and fun. It really helps hold it all together, aside from the great characters and gritty stories. It's made me appreciate the genre. It sets up a world in 2071 where crime syndicates are powerful, and bounty hunters are more predominant than ever. Some devastation has occured to Earth in the past (ie. no more Moon), but society somehow manages.

One episode recently kind of got to me: "Speak Like a Child". Faye, one of the Bebop bounty hunters, has an old beta tape mysteriously sent to her. Her comrades go hunting for an old beta-tape player just to see what's on it (Jet tells Faye she can't watch the tape until she reimburses him for the C.O.D. charges). Finally getting a hold of one, the tape shows a young Faye in the very early 21st century, making a tape for herself to look at 10 years in the future. Faye, as it is revealed in the story, has no clue to her past. She was caught in the middle of a terrible accident when she was 20, and placed into a cryogenic freeze to save her (reviving her 54 years later). No one knew her name or where she was from; just the debt she owed the hospital from being woken up. Faye spies at the tape playing, realizes that it's definitely her, but feels nothing as she stares at the TV screen. She wants to know her past, but has no frame of reference for it.

I felt, for a cartoon even, that it really did a remarkable job of capturing a moment of humanity, not resorting to some cheap or melodramatic tricks. Just a closeup of Faye's face watching the screen, her expression of mixed emotion revealed just enough.

Triumph of the Will

Somehow, the planets aligned and the stars smiled upon me last week.

I got Amy to watch all the "Star Wars" movies (episodes IV, V, and VI) back to back.

And she ENJOYED them.

Duck and cover. The apocalypse is NIGH...

(At play) amidst the strangeness and the charm

I just found out what this term actually means:



"Strangeness" and "Charm" are qualities of quarks. Physicists use the term "At play amidst the strangeness and the charm" in referring to someone who has passed on. Death, in scientific terms.



One can find this referenced in Alan Moore's graphic novel "Watchmen" (see The Vivarium in my links box), when physicist Jon Osterman is destroyed in an accident at Gila Flats Base routine intrinsic field test (later to be reborn as "Dr. Manhattan"). His girlfriend Janey, before he returns as God in human form several months later, places a picture of him behind a glass cabinet in the base's bar. The title "At play amidst the strangeness and the charm" hangs above all the pictures in this cabinet. I learned recently that all the pictures referred to in this cabinet contain pictures of former scientists at the base who passed away. I just thought the term referred to some old time saying, revealling some cuteness of the locals having fun. The brilliance of "Watchmen", of course, is in the details.



But I like my use of the term. So I don't think I'll be changing it up for a more correct term, despite the macabe connotations it might bring. I am not "At Play" quite yet. "Strangeness" and "Charm", both the nuclear and more mundane meanings, connotate the fascination of life and the wierd things we encounter on a daily basis. Coincidences, dreams and epiphanies all qualify for me.

Bjork, knife and spoon

I have had an inexplicable crush on Bjork lately. I am unfamiliar with her music, but I did see the last 15 minutes of "Dancer in the Dark" on Sunday, and so it goes. I saw the entire film last year with no ill effects. Hurm.








By the way, she's brilliant in that film. Aye, perhaps that's the rub...

The Sixth Sense...

The cleaning woman here at my temp job just told me she saw a ghost on our floor last Wednesday night. She apparently saw some man at the end of the hallway while she was emptying the trashcans by the main desk. Having experienced such visitors several times before, she quietly observed the still and shadowed figure, who eventually disappeared from sight when she turned to look again. Similar experiences have happened to her in this building. Sometimes M & M's will be scattered over the carpet in an office area already cleaned by her. Other "figures" have appeared on other floors.

Details are sketchy, partly due to her thick Caribbean accent, but also in her "as a matter of fact" tone in which she tells it. How they were dressed, or what they were doing, or even the manner of their appearance escaped me.

A college friend of mine had ghost stories to tell, and he told them in a similar manner to the cleaning woman: interesting, but "as a matter of fact" that the spirits or visitors are supposed to be around and about.

I really only have one "ghost" story to call my own.

My last college house with 3 other roommates was, by our account, haunted. My own experience centered around that time of the morning when you wake up 2 minutes before your alarm is supposed to go off. My roommate Bill and I planned to clean up our backyard before our moveout date first thing that morning. As I lie half-asleep, I distinctly remember my bedroom door evenly opening a crack. I thought I observed a figure on the other side looking in on me. A few seconds later, and the door evenly closed and clicked shut. Thinking it was Bill checking in on me to see if I was awake, I waited until the radio alarm went off to change into jeans and t-grungy T-shirt.

Needless to say, I went downstairs and discovered Bill still asleep in his room. So was it a dream I had? Probably. But coupled with other happenings in the house, it left me to wonder still. Among these were a figure seen in the stairway window close to my bedroom by another roommate from outside, a rainstick turning full blast upside down in the middle of the night, and footsteps heard going from my bedroom upstairs back and forth to the bathroom (I came home 5 minutes later to find my roommate Joe wondering how I got downstairs and out the door and back without him noticing).