according to the lopsided clock in the kitchen of my friends the olsons' clear lake cabin, it's been 8:15 for over two years. i can't think of a better way to sum up lakeside culture than that. it's a welcome escape from the ins and outs of a typical week, with a deadline here and a schedule to keep there. i sincerely doubt that you would have an easy time finding an alarm clock that's turned on in a house that sits within 50 feet of this lake. while still remaining thoroughly plugged into modern life, living this way, even if it's only on the weekend, seems to be one of the few times we can excuse ourselves to be reduced to following our most basic human desires. you hungry? eat. tired? take a nap. need to poop? well, you should probably wait till everyone else goes out on the boat cause there's no ceiling vent in the bathroom. actually, wait. there' no ceiling at all, and the bathroom's right next to the living room where everyone's hanging out and shooting pool. so yeah, you'd better wait, cause the pine-scented lysol air freshener will totally give you away.
while lakeside culture is a quick, easy, and refreshing way to simplify your life for a couple days, the one real deal i've found for doing this is backpacking. granted, this takes a great deal more planning and prep than just throwing some clothes and a toothbrush in a bag and driving for an hour. but still, there's no better escape for me, and it's worth every second of planning and every expensive piece of gear that's necessary for such a trip. plus, you usually end up lakeside anyway, and where's the harm in kicking back next to a nameless mountain lake that's actually crystal clear? though the olsons are certainly great company and beyond great hosts, i'd choose that mountain lake anytime over the improperly named clear lake in flatland central iowa, surrounded by houses and filled with boats.
the simplicity of backpacking is beautiful. take a map, some food, water, and some shelter, put it in a pack, strap it on, and start walking. feel tired, hungry? stop. eat. set up camp. sleep. what time is it? well, the sun's setting, so it's roughly sunset. nothing can be more freeing for me than living my life for a week by the sun and my most basic desires. entire days can be decided by how many heartbeats you feel like spending that day. you look at a map, find something you want to check out, and you pack up and check it out. and the best part is how you get there. just walk. if it's too steep to make a path through the saddle between those two mountains, hey, just take the long way 'round through the valley. the sun's just come up, and we have until it goes down. there's no driving, no agonizing over what to queue up next on the ipod, and no pompous clear lake cops giving you a $100 speeding ticket 1/2 mile before you get to the lakehouse just cause you stopped paying attention to the speedometer for like a second and come on, dude, highway hypnosis is totally real, i just got off the freeway, dammit. there's just your own two feet, the pack on your back, and the trail ahead. oh, and need to poop? no problem. just walk out of sight, dig a hole, and fertilize the pines that freshen the air up here and make me so glad that my life can be simple for a time.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
single white male seeking single hot female.
having recently finished my 26th orbit around the sun, i can't help but notice one thing that i've been really missing out on lately. i haven't dated in roughly four years, which i'm more than okay with, as the last two relationships i was involved in went by in a two month-long flurry of insecurity, disrespect, and all-around "badness". no, another girlfriend is about the last thing i need right now. i'm fine with watching my friends who are newly and happily married get their lives in order and buy homes, learning from the decisions they make, playing fake uncle to their children, and waiting for whoever may or may not come along for me.
however, i really want someone to make me mix cds on a regular basis, so i guess this means i should sign up for a chemistry.com profile, see who's out there , and try to force a relationship into working. hopefully whoever she is won't breathe on me after eating yogurt. actually, if she does that it's fine, as long as no cd she ever mixes for me contains a song by jack johnson, which should be legal grounds for an undisputed breakup/divorce in any relationship.
seriously, though. a few weeks ago i was riding in my brother's truck while we were on our way to visit a friend. unfortunately he's still a slave to the 20th century, with no hookup for an ipod in his vehicle and limited space for cd storage. thus we were reduced to repeatedly trying (and failing, in most cases) to figure out and sing along with the harmonies on the self-titled crosby, stills, and nash record, becoming euphorically happy to "this will be our year" by the zombies, and getting a contact high off of the grateful dead's aoxomoxoa. on our little road trip, we were both ready for a change, so i opened up the glove box and thumbed through the reserve case containing maybe 15 more albums. one of the discs sitting in the sleeved case was titled "mary 2." out of curiosity i put it in, and i suddenly felt like i was intruding on some private part of their relationship.
a mix cd can be put together for so many reasons and can act as a brilliant marker for different stages of a relationship. even as i was driving and this whole mix cd idea crossed my mind, i started mentally putting together a mix for my first date with unknown chemistry.com babe #1. here are some of the highlights of our night, which will be set to the first mix that i'll give her.
-dinner at eight, rufus wainwright - during dinner.
-drinkin' wine, beastie boys - after dinner.
-whiskey bottle, uncle tupelo - when the wine runs out.
-i want to love you in my room, irving - when the wine & whiskey have kicked in sufficiently.
-turn out the light, the new amsterdams - during frenching/heavy petting (which, by the way, is the grossest term EVER. petting should only be used in reference to cute kittens and puppies, not for talking about grabbing boobs and asses.)
-scatterbrain (as dead as leaves), radiohead - during a mid-french tangent discussing how my parenthetical thoughts are often longer than the actual thought itself.
-do it, nelly furtado - duh.
-lick it clean, refused - gross. so gross. but i couldn't resist.
-do it again, queens of the stone age - duh.
-catch my disease, ben lee - hahahahahahaha!!!!!!
-we are sleepyheads, belle and sebastian - so tired.
-good morning, girl, journey - wake up to this on ihome alarm clock.
...alternate final track: it ends tonight, all-american rejects - when i spot a jack johnson cd on the shelf when i'm looking over her shoulder during the nelly furtado track.
however, i really want someone to make me mix cds on a regular basis, so i guess this means i should sign up for a chemistry.com profile, see who's out there , and try to force a relationship into working. hopefully whoever she is won't breathe on me after eating yogurt. actually, if she does that it's fine, as long as no cd she ever mixes for me contains a song by jack johnson, which should be legal grounds for an undisputed breakup/divorce in any relationship.
seriously, though. a few weeks ago i was riding in my brother's truck while we were on our way to visit a friend. unfortunately he's still a slave to the 20th century, with no hookup for an ipod in his vehicle and limited space for cd storage. thus we were reduced to repeatedly trying (and failing, in most cases) to figure out and sing along with the harmonies on the self-titled crosby, stills, and nash record, becoming euphorically happy to "this will be our year" by the zombies, and getting a contact high off of the grateful dead's aoxomoxoa. on our little road trip, we were both ready for a change, so i opened up the glove box and thumbed through the reserve case containing maybe 15 more albums. one of the discs sitting in the sleeved case was titled "mary 2." out of curiosity i put it in, and i suddenly felt like i was intruding on some private part of their relationship.
a mix cd can be put together for so many reasons and can act as a brilliant marker for different stages of a relationship. even as i was driving and this whole mix cd idea crossed my mind, i started mentally putting together a mix for my first date with unknown chemistry.com babe #1. here are some of the highlights of our night, which will be set to the first mix that i'll give her.
-dinner at eight, rufus wainwright - during dinner.
-drinkin' wine, beastie boys - after dinner.
-whiskey bottle, uncle tupelo - when the wine runs out.
-i want to love you in my room, irving - when the wine & whiskey have kicked in sufficiently.
-turn out the light, the new amsterdams - during frenching/heavy petting (which, by the way, is the grossest term EVER. petting should only be used in reference to cute kittens and puppies, not for talking about grabbing boobs and asses.)
-scatterbrain (as dead as leaves), radiohead - during a mid-french tangent discussing how my parenthetical thoughts are often longer than the actual thought itself.
-do it, nelly furtado - duh.
-lick it clean, refused - gross. so gross. but i couldn't resist.
-do it again, queens of the stone age - duh.
-catch my disease, ben lee - hahahahahahaha!!!!!!
-we are sleepyheads, belle and sebastian - so tired.
-good morning, girl, journey - wake up to this on ihome alarm clock.
...alternate final track: it ends tonight, all-american rejects - when i spot a jack johnson cd on the shelf when i'm looking over her shoulder during the nelly furtado track.
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