| (no subject) |
[Jul. 3rd, 2009|03:39 pm] |
July 3, 2009
It's been a while, ain't it.
My car's finally a Minnesotan today. One of the Wisconsin plates wouldn't come off (can I blame it? we had a long good time together there, my plates and my car and I) so I screwed the new one over the top.
It's a little strange to see the blue-and-white stripe where it used to say "America's Dairyland." I remember when I got my first WI driver's license I kept my old Vermont one for years, until after a few trips through the wash all that remained were a few bits of barely readable laminated plastic: " ... 5 10. BLU".
* * *
So does that make me a Minnesotan, too? Would you believe that when I go back to Viroqua my friends there tell me I speak like one? Apparently they say "yaa" differently on this side of the river. I mean "we say..."
But you can hear an uf-da that sounds pretty much the same either place ya go.
* * *
I still have three vehicles registered in Wisconsin. There's the Spartan trailer, which is now more of a cabin -- though the bearings are packed and the rubber's good, so we could roll away any day. And the truck. It would run if I charged up the battery, I'm sure. And of course the Vanagon. That starts right up now. I took it for a little spin around the campsite a couple of months ago; the registration's out of date by a year, so I won't be taking any leisure cruises in it for a while.
And I've still got the forty acres.
* * *
There's time for stories about what I've been up to in the last ... eighteen months? has it been that long? Hmm.... and it's starting to get good now, too. |
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| first day |
[Feb. 29th, 2008|09:00 am] |
February 29 2008 Minneapolis
Today is, I think, the first day of spring here in Powderhorn Park. We crossed over the line from pre-early-spring last night; down by the river it began to snow at around five as the sun went lower (but not down yet!), big flakes but dry, mid to lower twenties made soft powder but still I thought, this feels like the sugar snow. This morning when I went out at a quarter-to-eight the sun was shining big and light yellow and there was already a light crust on the new snow from melt. Four or five squirrels (it's hard to count squirrels) chased around and up and down the trunk of an old oak tree; snow-melt ran like sap down its trunk and those of all its neighbors and I can feel them pushing the sugar from deep underground way out into their tiny wooden fingers. The birds have begun to change their songs, ducks bob in the mississip by the lake street bridge; geese were ganging north three weeks ago when it was warm enough for me to step through the ice and dip my leg up to my knee into the Cannon river.
It's early early spring and it will snow again and get warm again and again; I love spring for its inevitability, the unstoppable progress towards sunshine, warm soil, new songs, new leaves, shoots and blossoms. |
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| Jug Band Battle part III |
[Feb. 17th, 2008|10:17 am] |
February 17, 2008, Minneapolis
A week has passed since the big jug battle. It's no longer consuming 80+ percent of my conscious thoughts, and that's a good thing.
*
Picking up where I left off...
It was ten below when dawn broke. I took Joe out for a walk around the lake with Mia, we caught up some. Came back and started banging out a big batch of home-fries and omelets, sour-dough toast with butter and agave honey, tanks of coffee and tea for the rest of us. All morning long I was waiting for news from the rest of the band: were Adam and Lindsay in town yet? Was the mando man coming with our Redd Brikum as a passanger? Would he have my guitar?
Long about eleven the phone finally rang, Kevin the mando and ace harp player was not going to make it, he wasn't bringing Redd, and he wasn't bringing my guitar. Well..... now... Time to reevaluate. I've still got the old arch-top, that will have to do. Different sound, no bottom end, but it cuts pretty good into the SM-57's we'll be playing into. Okay, smaller band. No sweat. L & A are here, they'll meet us before the gig. Right-o. No stress, no stress at all. This is supposed to be fun, remember?
*
By the time we all pile out of the cars at the show it's going on two o'clock and we're only two bands away from going on stage. I've been elected Redd for tonight; the rest of the band is dressed in carhart coveralls, some stuffed with pillows, I'm wearing a three-piece suit from 1970, but I've substituted a periwinkle silk blazer to match the two-tone shimmery pink tie and the candy-striped pink-white-green oxford. Stylin!
Up we go! Rock out our three tunes in good form, the early thin crowd is psyched and with us. End of the set and we still have three minutes, time for one more so we launch into Lois Armstrong's "sister cate." So fun to see people two-step and swing-dancing to our beat.
*
Five hours later... then end of the long day... many many bands later... some good some painful, some excellent. The results of the judging are in: The winnah is..... not us.
But! We get lots of "dude! you wuz robbed!" from people, and we had a fantastic time. Best of all, half the people in the band that won were in our band, and some of our band was in their band, so we all had a good time the next day celebrating.
*
Square dance that night and string band jamming on the stairs at Bedlam Theater til the wee hours. I had to leave early to get up for work in the morning.
True to the cat-in-the-hat mayhem of the previous couple of days, the band cleaned up the house while I was gone. A very nice way to come home.t |
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| Jug Band Battle par II (of III) |
[Feb. 11th, 2008|10:38 am] |
February 9, 2007, May Day Cafe, Minneapolis MN
I'm here at the cafe, eating breakfast and getting some work done on my current project. At home, three band-mates eat breakfast, sleep, or work on freelance projects of their own. Clean dishes fill the drying rack, the recycling bin weighs a few pounds more today than it did on Friday. Old records lean against the wall waiting to be re-filed. Unfamiliar towels hang in the bathroom; mattresses and blankets and clothes lie in places I wouldn't normally expect to find them when I have the place to myself. To myself... ah, as much as I have enjoyed having the company I do look forward to cleaning up again, making the place my own again.
* * *
I took off from work early on Friday to clean. Clean the kitchen, clean the living and dining rooms, clean the bathroom. Saturday morning mop the floors, run to the coop for groceries, to the thrift store for a black leather chair so now I have five (four are wood) besides my borrowed couch. Have I called everybody? Do I know when they're coming in? I check and re-check my list. Then, phone set to rattle-my-pocket, I'm off to the jug-band jam at the Eagles' Club.
There were only three other people at the bar when I got there at quarter-to-five, eight or ten showed eventually up at the jam, six of us on stage. It was nice to play with people who knew the tunes -- like finding a pocket of people who speak your language. I suppose I "get" the groove at old-time festivals now, too. Nowhere else can you walk up to a stranger, say "hey, know the Gus Cannon version of Rag Mama?" and everybody just rolls into it. There were a couple of tubs, a jug or three, one guy played a big wooden box with a snare inside. A few guitars and a couple of harps; Surprisingly there were no really hot pickers.
*
Seven o'clock I check my phone, half the band is in town and some of them have let themselves in to my house. Time to take off and start dinner or dinner plans. Davey and Joe and Mia and Larry are waiting for me when I get there, we talk about dinner, decide on thai. At the last minute while we're on the way I swing them to a vietnamese place that's about $5 cheaper per plate and just as tasty.
Ten or so and we sit down for a little music. On the turn-table, that is. We're listening to Janice Joplin and wondering where big Dave is; I get a call after midnight, he's at the Kabooze, how do I get to your house from here. I give him directions but he flips the 3 and the 5. Two hours or more later I get another call, where the hell is your house Dave? Oh man, you're where? Three thirty and I'm finally in bed, most of the musicians safely in town either at my place or at Bedlam theater closer to downtown.
*
Sunday morning I make myself sleep in to nine, take the dog for a walk with Mia around the lake. It's ten below and the wind's blowing about 20; both Joe dog and I have icicles hanging from our noses when we return. I sling together some hashbrowns and eggs, fruit, bread, cheese, coffee for the crew. By one we finally get around to our second practice, leave for the gig less than an hour before we go on.
* * *
That's all for right now -- stay tuned, part III coming soon. |
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| Redd Brikum and the Replacement Window Smashers (part I) |
[Feb. 5th, 2008|07:42 pm] |
February 5, 2008, Minneapolis MN
It's "super duper tuesday," and traffic is jammed with everyone in the twin cities headed to the caucuses.
* * *
Redd Brikum and the Replacement Window Smashers, part I
Preparations are underway for the jug band battle, only five more days to practice. Or clean the house before the band gets here from Wisconsin.
I took last Friday off and drove down to WI to take care of some business with the post office (find out why my mail hasn't been forwarding), and to get the band together. I put the word out to meet down in Davey's cabin about half an hour south of town. We had nine people I think... us three Daves, Tim J sitting in as the honorary Redd, mostly just keeping time with his foot but occasionally blowing some harp. Kevin Dohse started out picking the mandolin but during one of our numbers he took the harp from Tim and just shredded up the tune. Lindsay and Adam played fiddle and washboard respectively and competently if not loudly. Davey's girl, Sarah played the tub while Joe (not my dog) blew the jug. Between them we had a fat bass sound. I think that's everyone... I'm trying to convince Kathy from my old band to come in and fatten up the fiddle section, but I'm not optimistic.
Man is this part of my brain rusty... I haven't tried to sort a day into a narrative for about a month now. I forgot how much work it can be. Which is why it's so short so far.
Two room cabin, candles, kerosene, one DC bulb from the solar powered battery. Beans cooked over a wood fire, crackers, cheese and fruit. A wide variety of beverages both fermented and fresh.
The battle is stretching out to become a mini festival this year: jug band jams at the Eagles' Club (where the monthly square dances are held) starts on Saturday afternoon; the battle and potluck is from noon to eight on Sunday, followed by a square dance at Bedlam Theater just a block away. I'm wondering how many people will still be able to swing their partner round and round after spending eight hours in a bar... They'd be better off just holding onto each other standing still while the room spins around them. |
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| doings in and around the cities |
[Jan. 14th, 2008|09:58 pm] |
Monday, January 14, 2008, Minneapolis
Went out tonight, scouting for talent for the Window Smashers. That's my new band, at least for the Battle of the Jug Bands: Redd Brikum and the Replacement Window Smashers. I had a hot tip from a new friend about a saw player, so I went over to the 331 club in north-east and listened to the Roe Family Singers for a little while. Definitely my crowd, folkies, jug heads, not-quite-hip-sters. But I only knew one person there and her not very well, and I wasn't feeling too outgoing for making new friends tonight so I went home after a few tunes.
The saw player was great, better than I'd been led to expect, but he's not what I'm looking for for the band. We're all swing and grit, he's got grit -- he RFS are a folk-country band -- but too slow. Maybe if we played a number like Willie the Weeper, but we did that last time. No, I think we're about set for musicians. I thought about calling a sax player to see if he'd play clarinet (or the "misery stick" as he calls it), but I think with a band as big as we've already got I'd have to have at least two reeds or they'd be lost.
Right now the line-up is this: me, big Dave, Davey on guitar, tenor banjo, and steel guitar respectively; a veteran blues and swing mando player named Kevin, a two fiddle players, one solid and with that sweet old time sound, the other hot and loose; Adam on the tub or jug, and a drummer from a country band on the washboard. So we've got good leads and a solid solid rhythm section, tight harmonies we worked on all summer. I could hear a brass/wood section, but it would have to be three people strong to be effective -- and we'd need more than fifteen minutes to really let it show.
I'm having a blast putting this all together. Letting go of any of my previous prefab bands, tapping friends for a one-off gig you can raise the bar pretty high. Not limited by how polished we can make one set of talent, but by what bright talent can we put together to shine!
*
Danced the night away yesterday at Bedlam Theater. Saw many of the same people I've seen at the last three dances up here. It's kind of fun having a conversation with someone over the course of three months or so.
*
Earlier in the day I helped out putting together a stage/sauna out on the ice over Spirit Lake for the Art Shanty contest. Here's several thousand words' worth of pictures. Or a couple dozen anyhow.
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| signing off (for now) |
[Jan. 8th, 2008|03:26 pm] |
Jan 8 2008 Minneapolis
I'm not really on the road so much anymore these days. Now and again I go back down to WI to visit friends, maybe dance a little. But, the adventures are fewer and further between.
So for now, I am signing off. When exciting things happen (such as the upcoming jug band battle and the "art shanty" project on spirit lake), I'll write about them.
Until then, thanks for reading.
--Dave |
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| hit the road |
[Dec. 28th, 2007|09:42 pm] |
December 28 2007, Minneapolis
Tomorrow, at last, I hit the road, leave the walls of this city behind. I'm rollin back to wisconsin for the long weekend, going to an all-night square dance out in the sticks. Falling down the hills on my patch of land. Making plans to take the jug band battle by storm.
It's just such a relief to finally have put together a plan. I've been trying to get out of here for weeks, but the weather, other plans, people I gotta see, all keep me here. The bigger the city the greater its gravitational pull, the more energy I have to expend to leave its orbit.
*
It's after nine-thirty, I hope to leave some time in the next twelve hours. I have a load of laundry to do (mostly for when I get back). I have all the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, but I think I'll save them for another day. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 25th, 2007|09:38 pm] |
December 25, 2007, Minneapolis
Ho ho ho, I just came in from the snow! It's been snowing off and on for the past couple of days -- today, big 20-degree flakes. They're landing in a nice powder, but it's so warm it packs quickly. Which means some places are slick and fast, while others are slow and easy.
I am definitely hooked on snowboarding. I've been working up my chops to be able to hit the slopes at a larger hill (the kind w/ ski-lifts) this week, maybe tomorrow. I took some small jumps tonight, carved up the powder, found that lean where you drag your fingers in the snow to make a tight turn. My plan now is to head east in January to visit family, and to fall down the mountains of VT. Funny how I never got the chance to do that all those years I lived there.
*
The rest of today was pretty mellow -- cleaned, napped, talked to friends and family on the telephone. Walked Joe in the park with my neighbor and her dog. Laundry. I vacuumed the upstairs today -- with a black dog and white carpet, it's like running an eraser over the floor.
*
I stretched some before I sat down, but now I'm cooling off in damp clothes; time for a bath and a long winter's nap. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 23rd, 2007|11:47 am] |
December 23 2007 Minneapolis
It's cold again, around five above zero, wind blowing, snow falling. That's how I like it this time of year. Bundle up and shuffle around freezing my cheekbones and jaw muscles so I mumble when I speak. In a little while maybe I'll take the snowboard out across the street -- fresh powder dude!
*
So the cops caught the bad guys, the kids are playing in the park at night again. Pretty sweet. It's like Whoville.
The other day a friend and I went to the botanical gardens over in St Paul. What a relief to open the doors and bathe in oxygen-drenched warm humid air, the scents of a hundred varieties of tropical trees. This one's bigger than the one in Madison -- there's three or four big glass halls and a rotunda. We sat and watched the sloth for a while before walking back out through the giant fern room and back to the truck in Minnesota December.
*
That was Friday. Yesterday a Davey came up from Viroqua area for a visit, spent the night in my spare room. Late night and mid-morning old time jams, good for what ails ya.
I haven't decided yet what I'm doing for any of the holidays, though at this rate they'll be gone before I make up my mind. I'll probably stay up here for Christmas, go to a potluck. |
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| git outta my yard you dang kids |
[Dec. 19th, 2007|10:09 pm] |
December 19 2007 Minneapolis
Another warm day, maybe above freezing, a little foggy. I went out in shorts and a tee-shirt... and a snow-suit. Most of the rest of my clothes were in the wash.
Joe took me for a walk again down by the river, this time further upstream from where I usually go, and this time with a friend. She showed me the shallow sandstone cave she lived in the first few days she got here three years ago. It's about ten feet from the ground, up a series of hand- and foot-holds dug into the cliff, and looks east into the sunrise. I'm told that in the summer the sun gradually warms you into waking -- maybe I'll spend a night there myself a few months down the line.
*
I debated whether to write about this, not wanting folks to worry. This morning at about a quarter past five Joe went nuts at the door. I went down to look, thinking maybe it was a neighbor with an urgent favor or something. Nobody there. Strange... I went back to bed. Later on at the Mayday Cafe, Mary (one of the women who works there) told me that in addition to the muggings, the little punks have been breaking into houses, too. I'm guessing they tried the door and were scared off by Joe. Damn.
All kinds of reactions have passed through my mind, but not one of them has involved leaving. This really is a nice neighborhood -- it's just a few punks who are getting stupid and cocky. They'll be busted soon enough and we can all go back to playing outdoors. I thought about bringing the ole granny gun up here -- loaded with rock-salt or number 9 bird-shot (lighter than what Dick Cheeney shot at his best friend). It's not a hugely practical weapon, but a huge smooth barrel with a big bead of steel on top is pretty intimidating if you don't know what's in the shell.
But, I don't want to get involved with that mess. At this point they're not likely to be back, thanks to Joe. A dog and a cell phone are probably my best bets. Just to be on the safe side, though, if you're coming to visit in the night, call first, okay? |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 17th, 2007|09:46 pm] |
Monday December 17 2007, Minneapolis
This one's pretty short, one more thing I saw the other day while I was out walking in the park across the street. A couple maybe four years younger than I were waiting by a sled at the top of a hill as I passed under. I paused to let them go before me (so I could watch the ride of course), but she said, no, you go on it'll take a while to get my nerve up.
And so I did, I walked past slowly, then turned around as they came down laughing. As I continued around the bend to the other side of the ball field, opposite the hill, they climbed back to the top. I turned to watch them come down again, and when they reached the bottom I saw their silhouettes in what was unmistakably a first kiss (followed by a second in short order). So damn sweet, I'm still smiling several days later.
* * *
On a slightly lower note, the park's been quiet after sundown for the past few days. A handful of kids, one with "an implied or shown pistol" has been robbing people in the few block square on the west end of the park. I hate that my actions are dictated by fear, but I haven't been out snowboarding since the night I bought it. It pisses me off that normally this time of night the park echoes with the yells of kids on sleds, but not tonight -- tonight it's just the robbers and the cops and the unlucky or brave. |
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| carvin' the fresh powder! |
[Dec. 15th, 2007|10:05 pm] |
December 15, 2007, Minneapolis
Finally, a day with some adventure to write about.
I've been spending most of my time working, saving, cooking at home, visiting one or two friends. Last weekend I went out to see the original Powder-milk Biscuit Band from back in the day on Prairie Home Companion. Honestly, they were pretty good, like Ralph's Groceries. They didn't make me want to jump up and dance, sing along -- maybe play along, though. I knew a bunch of their tunes. But it was a friendly crowd, one or two familiar faces.
But today... yeah. Started out the afternoon at a play at Bedlam Theater. _Lost_Loves_, starring a couple of friends and some people I didn't know as a lesbian couple working through an affair and ensuing insanity; a woman whose entire wedding party had been washed away in the (imagined future) Florida hurricane, and a rescuer. What can I say, it was a good show, the characters' problems real (if amplified for the stage), performances convincing. I love local theater by local authors when it comes out this good. Makes me wish I'd gotten to Mercury Players' Theater more often when I lived in Madison.
I bought a snowboard today, a relatively nice one. Not the sweetest wood-veneer, carbon-fiber core long-board in the glass case. But a right-sized Rossignol plexi-carbon that had (according to the stickers) been to Jackson Hole WY. So I knew it was built to carve. This evening a couple hours after the sun went down I went across the street to Powderhorn Park and tried it out on the bunny hills. Yeehaw! I fuckin' love it! Right across the street there's a little hill that still has some fresh powder -- that's where I got my first feel for it. Then, climbing up the hills and sliding across them, worked my way half way around the park on mostly packed powder -- which is a little more challenging. On this board, packed powder means difficult to carve -- turn to the side to carve and you end up riding sideways down the hill.
I learned a little how to dig in, even took a little jump once. You can bet I'll be out again most every night this week.
I met a couple of my neighbors from the other side of the park while I was out, they were out with their dogs. I need more nights like this one. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 8th, 2007|10:24 am] |
December 8, 2007, Minneapolis
Another sub-zero night last night. I'm off to the hardware store today to buy more rope-caulk for the windows so I can finish putting plastic over them. It's also finally time to get a new mop. I gave my old one away, thinking, who need a mop when you live in a tent? I've been careful to take my boots off outside and make sure my guests do, too. But, the landlord's partner came by yesterday with a contractor to fix a light-switch and tromped mud and snow all over the kitchen and part of the living room.
She also "upgraded" the light in my kitchen, installed a huge ceiling fan that takes up most of the ceiling, eliminating about a foot of vertical space. On the plus side, if I'm here his summer it'll cool the kitchen off in a jiffy. I asked the landlord to take a look at it, I don't think it's adding much value, please take it down. We'll see if she does.
*
More puppet work the other day, this time, on film. A friend is making a movie in which a giant crow plays a part, moving from this world to the next and back, watching one poor sucker die out on the ice. Anyway, he wanted me to play the part of the crow, at least for the trailer. If he gets funding I may end up spending a lot of time in that suit this summer. Hmm...
*
Joe dog caught a mouse yesterday -- it jumped out of the box his feed back sat in when I picked it up. Yum! |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 4th, 2007|02:09 pm] |
December 4, 2007, Minneapolis.
It's snowing again. Fortunately, I'm working from home, and not only am I stocked up on provisions but I also found a decent mom-n-pop pizza-and-spaghetti joint w/in walking distance. Thank you gentrification.
I went to the monthly square dance at the eagles club again last night. I saw many of the same faces there as last time, some new ones I'd seen before elsewhere. One woman I danced with said, "hey, you're Dave Hoyt!" It turned out that she came to a party/dance at my old place shortly before I sold it. How do you like that! That was a good party, too -- one where a random guy said, "hey, great party -- who's house is this?"
Man, it's coming down fast... A friend is up in the cities today, selling kim-chi and sauerkraut to the coops; it's likely she'll be crashing on my couch. If I was any kind of host I'd put clean sheets on the bed and take the couch for myself. We'll see.
*
On a completely different and highly esoteric topic, I just had something happen today that I just wanted to document for later. Today I wrote a piece of code in C that does the following:
reads a file of comma-separated values
parses them into a data structure
adds that structure to a linked list
and... it worked the first time I ran it. Incredible. |
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| snow! |
[Dec. 2nd, 2007|06:15 pm] |
December 2, 2007, Minneapolis
Snow! The temperature has been hovering around zero for most of the last week or so. I've been watching the Mississippi freeze up from the western shore to the center on my nightly walks with Joe; the sound of ice sliding over ice as the floe moves downstream from colder waters north.
It finally snowed big yesterday. At nine in the morning the pavement was dry and spit was nearly frozen before it hit the ground. By ten it was a little warmer and there was an inch of snow on the ground. Temps got up to near 20 by early afternoon, but the wind and blowing snow kept most people indoors until today. All day outside my window, a constant circus of sledders, cross-country skiers, snow-boarders, bounding dogs let free from their leash now that there is snow to slow them down a little. Almost exactly at noon the park emptied as people disappeared indoors for warm cocoa and leftover turkey (as I imagined it); by two the winter carnival was in full swing again, and didn't let up until the sun went down.
Joe played in the street while I shoveled the sidewalk in front of my house; a neighbor came by with her dog during the snowiest part of the blow yesterday, and we took them for an off-leash romp while the park was empty.
Look out, east of here, keep your shovel handy. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 27th, 2007|08:20 am] |
Thursday November 27 2007, Minneapolis
I seem to have fallen out of the habit of writing two or three times a week, but maybe that has to do with how life is moving past more slowly now; no longer zooming past my windshield at 55, but changing slowly in one place outside my window; I watched the trees shed their leaves and the ground and the lake harden and frost over with white and ice.
*
I went out last Sunday night, saw a movie at one of the art-house theaters in this town. On the way back to my car I heard the fat sound of an arch-top guitar and stand-up bass, and followed it to a bar. I sat down and drank a bottle of fizzy water, listened to a couple of tunes, dropped a dollar per tune, left my email on a little piece of paper, and went home. It was fun to see how thrilled these kids (24?) were to get a couple of bucks that way -- I hope it encourages them to come out again.
*
Thanksgiving was quiet, I spent it with El Gato and his mom and one other friend. I made some killer vegan stuffing, starting with a small batch of veggie stock brewed just for the occasion with ginger and a hot pepper and onions and garlic and thyme and rosemary and a carrot or two. Fried up some veggie sausage with lots of olive oil and some tender onions, an apple or two and some more garlic and herbs. Tossed it all together in a casserole dish (with some apple slices on top, aww) and baked at 375 for 90 minutes or so. Slam dunk.
*
A bonus of frozen ground and no snow yet -- I can ride my longboard down the grassy part of the hills at the park.
.. . . . . . . . .
[much as i hate toclutter this entry, i have to keep moving the counter up the thread in order to satisfy my curiousity]
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| plotting for the road |
[Nov. 20th, 2007|10:10 pm] |
November 20, 2007, Minneapolis MN
So I'm thinking about the road again, making plans for an exit in my van-again. Not right away, not this month or next or even the one after that. I'm a working man for the next little while, saving up about half my paycheck every month until February.
Then it's westward-ho! Bound for the land of California -- at least that's what's hot on my mind right now. Surfing in so-cal. I'm reading internet mailing lists and message-boards about winter travel in a volkswagen, lots of people do it, apparently. There's good instructions on which tires to buy (light truck, not the car-size ones they'll sell you at the chain stores). Chains, which ones, how many, how and when to put them on.
I've been looking at pictures of the Eisenhower tunnel in February, a sobering thought. Steep, icy inclines. Encouraging posts like, "enjoyed driving my 2wd in the snow but was always a little nervous. remeber on ice chains are your only friend," and "get yourself a set of chains or cables and learn how to use them before you need them," or "used to live in the rockies and the midwest ... plan on taking my 2wd up with both good tires and chains."
So, given the resources to set her up with the right shoes, I'll probably be driving the westy west. Otherwise, it's the old Ford again, which loves its snow tires and four-wheel drive. It gets crap mileage, though, and I'm not sure it's any more reliable on a four-thousand-mile drive.
I'd take the Jetta, but with Joe in southern california, it's not an option. He'd die of heat in the passenger seat while I was off on the beach.
*
So I think it'll work. I also may have a co-pilot (besides Joe), but it's early yet to tell.
*
Mean time, it's Thanksgiving this week, and it looks like I'm headed for a friend's house for a Sri-Lankan vegetarian feast. |
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| cool |
[Nov. 15th, 2007|10:26 am] |
Cool weather is here. I just got back from skateboarding twice around the park and around some of the neighborhood. Light flurries and grey skies, geese on the lake, squirrels fat at slow.
One of the things I like most about riding with Joe this way -- besides the simple pleasure of going for a trot in a stand-up sulky -- is that it's an invitation for people to say hello. Bikers, roofers, the maintenance dude who drives around the park in an electric buggy, all have a smile and something nice to say.
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Last night I took another long walk in the Mississippi bottoms with Joe. Down in the 50-year flood zone where it's all cottonwood trees and sand and leaves. I startled an owl and watched him glide silently down and away from his tree. |
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| Another week in the big city |
[Nov. 12th, 2007|08:21 pm] |
November 12, 2007, Minneapolis.
One more week in the big shiny cities.
Last Monday, square dance with anarchists from Bedlam theater. Which is a fine juxtaposition of ideas, really. The dance was at a bar, the Eagles' Club. Bars, in my experience, make for better square dances -- at least outside of New England. Otherwise they can be a little mummified or the folk nazis can make it a lot less fun. The term 'folk nazi' may need some explanation to those fortunate enough not to have danced with them. These are the people who, should you be floundering some, doing the mill-about waiting for 'swing your partner' to come around so you know where to stand, these are the people who will place a firm hand on your shoulder or back and shove you where they think you aughtta go. At least that's how they manifest up here. Other places they just scowl and point. At any rate, with alchohol for sale and artists a-plenty, they didn't stand a chance -- we all had a blast.
Later in the week I partook of some big city culture and saw a fantastic double-header performance art piece. The first addressed gender and race in a way somewhat reminiscent of senior gender-studies classes at a liberal-arts college, but with more depth and compassion. This shouldn't have been surprising considering that the three women who created it graduated in '98 (?) from McCallister college (small, liberal-arts). I don't mean to be dismissive -- that tone probably comes as a defense to how uncomfortable that kind of reflexion can be. The second piece was a beautiful, funny, compassionate piece about survival -- of the planet, of us humans, our relationship to dirt. Dance, newspaper sculptures, story telling, film... very optimistic and motivating.
Which brings me to last weekend -- another dance in the sticks! Yay organic dancing, where chaos is expected and encouraged! Hooray for rowdy dancers who make a circle-left feel like crack-the-whip! Whoopie for a polka that (usually) leaves no-one injured but most people exhausted!
Saturday night I camped by a nice fire of old dry elm up on the property. A neighbor came by to pass the time and the latest who-kissed-whom. Joe came into the tent sometime after midnight and kept us both warm.
Yesterday afternoon I biked down to the Big Muddy and waved hello to my friends downstream in St. Louis. Along the way I ran into one of the puppet people, pedaling a pink flamingo masquerading as a bicycle.
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This week I'm working my butt off at this keyboard, building sculptures of logic in three or four programming languages. Tonight or maybe tomorrow (I'm a little tired now) I may go dumpster diving -- I mapped out a route to four health-food stores. If I left now I could be back before midnight.
Who knows what the week will bring -- I'm headed back to the village for a cake walk and a tripple-play birthday party on Saturday. So, that much is more-or-less known. What happens in-between? We'll see! |
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ramblin_dave's journal
