The Repeater

Though I've been pretty good about keeping variety in my life, I've noticed over the years that certain things are constant. I guess that's not such a bad thing...

But even constants can also change within variety, oddly enough. I tend to meet a lot of people just because...well...I do. And when I do, depending on the person I meet or already know, though unique, they will probably say one of the following phrases during our interaction:
- Are you interested in saving 15% or more on your car insurance?

Alright...maybe not that one.

- Stephen...is that with a "V" or a "PH?"
- Wait, you're [age]? No way.
- I like your hat/shirt.
- What do you think about [Philadelphia sports story]?
- Dude you played/sang [90's song]! I haven't heard that in years!
- Are you Hispanic/Mexican/Puerto Rican?
- Are you gay? (No. Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
- You got a lighter, man? (OK, I think most people get asked that, but anyway...)
- You work in video? That's so coooooool! (Hah...)
- That [random object] is bigger than you!
- Nice dance moves. (In equal amounts of sarcasm and truth)
- Wow, you're single? (Strange that no one ever follows that with "I have a friend you should meet.")
- You're a jerk/OK smartypants/etc.
- Thanks for being so kind.
- Stop being so damn nice!

And more recently:
- Where's the rest of you?
- Wait...you...quit eating bacon?
- So...what DO you eat?
- I love your pictures!
- You should blog more often.

I'm working on it. Maybe hearing the same phrases over and over again is limiting my ability to come up with new material. :P

That Time Making a New Friend Led to Taking a Drifter Into my Home

He may or may not have been a drifter. I can't remember all of his details. Allow me to backtrack...

It was a balmy Wednesday evening in Philadelphia. I had just recently returned to United States (notice I didn't use the term "American") soil after a much-needed trip "off the grid" to Canada for fishing and outdoor fun-ness, and after having a few days to regroup, I was still in the process of re-organizing my immediate future. It's funny how vacations can relieve stress and create it in the process. Anyway...

The plan for my night was simple: I was supposed to get together with my buddy Max to work out some details on some video projects that he had coming up, and that was it. I didn't think it would take that long, and I was also sorely in need of a decent night's rest, so my hope was to meet up, catch up, come up with a loose plan, done. Home by 11-11:30. Goodnight.

It didn't turn out that way. For starters, I was eager to get back onto the music scene (of sorts), so instead of meeting at any old bar just for drinks, I came up with this great idea to meet up at an open mic night at a local dive. A great idea, for sure, except that it didn't start until 9 and I tend to forget what the rush of playing live music does to me...

Max was running a little late, so I had a couple beers before I played my set. He walked in as I was playing my last song, and when I returned to my post at the bar, he greeted me with a "City Wide," which is basically a shot of whiskey (varies depending on which Philly bar you frequent) and a PBR pounder.

For reasons I don't need to explain but will anyway, normally I would NEVER consider drinking this combination. For one, I can't get behind PBR any more. It used to not be cool until Clint Eastwood drank it in Gran Torino which actually drove the price up (I'm convinced that's what did it), it doesn't taste all that good to me and it's not really beer (it's made with corn syrup). Combine that with the fact that the copious amounts of Evan Williams (I know, I'm not proud of it either) I consumed in my mid-twenties have numbed my tastebuds to most any whiskey flavor and have also desensitized any effects I might feel from it until it's far too late, and add to the mix that my adrenaline surge from being on stage would further enhance the experience and...well...things will happen.

But hey, when someone buys you a drink, you don't turn it down. You do the sensible, friendly thing and drink it. So I did. We got to talking, one beer led to another, another beer led to another City Wide, and before I knew it, it was nearly closing time and I had all but forgotten about my plan to get a decent night of sleep.

Was it worth it? Of course. Some of my best (well, also worst) bonding experiences have happened this way, and this was no exception. I left the bar that night feeling like I had gained a friend, feeling no worries whatsoever. Not worried at all about my impending full day of work the next day, not worried about the steady rain that had started falling since I entered the bar, and certainly not worried about the amount of money I'd just spent.

Still feeling surprisingly coherent, I was walking home along a normally busy street when I paused for a red light and looked over to my right. I saw what I thought was a homeless man with a black dog leashed around his foot. The dog, seemingly friendly, came over to me and started sniffing and licking and doing his dogly investigation, thankfully stopping just short of marking his territory.

So, obviously seeking attention, I bent down to pet the dog, and somehow started a conversation with the "homeless man," who actually turned out to be a man in his mid-twenties hitchhiking on his way to California. Why, I can't remember. At this point, I think I finally started noticing the effects...but one thing I do know: hitchhiking on the East coast is not as easy as it is on the West coast. In fact, I think it's illegal in New Jersey.

Still undoubtedly feeling bad for a man and a dog sitting out in the rain that I would have felt drunk or sober, the conversation went on and I let him know that there was a spare cot in my place (DON'T TELL MY LANDLORD) if he wanted to get out of the rain for a few hours. Of course he agreed.

I know, I know...don't trust anybody. I'm crazy, right? And maybe it was the booze talking, but after living in a city for several months, I've started to notice my ability to tell the difference between who's trying to grift me and who's genuine has enhanced greatly. I didn't get a bad vibe, so we went back, shared some stories about the West coast, stayed up far too late (for me, at least) playing with the dog, I gave him some spiel about the disgusting Philadelphia city water he was carrying around/drinking and FINALLY I got some rest. Not nearly enough, of course.

I got up the next morning extremely late (yet I somehow made it to work on time, benefits of living within walking distance). I came downstairs and all was quiet. After a brief chat about sights to see in Philly, the man and his dog left. There's probably no way I'll ever see or hear from them again, but hopefully they made it to California, or wherever they were actually going...and hopefully they enjoyed their brief stay.

All Apologies

I've got a lot going on these days, and little time to write. It's unfortunate.

For those of you who still frequent this blog, I promise I'll be back again with more regularity some day.

In health and happiness,
Steve

Collections

Some of you have known me to be a collector.

I've collected lots of things over the years: baseball cards, magazines, playing cards, shot glasses, CDs and DVDs, interesting soda cans (no seriously), just to name a few. Trust me: there were more. So many more...and where are they now? Most of those things have been sold, thrown out or given away. Some things (actually, lots of things) still remain...

In recent years, I've become a bit of a nomad, and that's inadvertently forced me into taking stock of everything I own. It's made me sort of hate all of the stuff I've accumulated because of how much of a pain in the ass it is to move it (or sort through it) when it's time to move on, which has been frequent in recent years.

So when I decided to move to Philadelphia, I opted to attempt to build some semblance of a future here with only what I could fit in my car. Save for one return trip where I brought down just a few more articles of clothing, I've succeeded.

Wait a minute...didn't I try this in Oregon? Yea. It was great. Well, not all peaches and cream for sure, but I survived for nearly 6 months with what the average American might call "next to nothing." No TV, not even a radio in the truest sense of the word. I didn't really have cell phone service either, but I did have access to wireless internet. Then, there was that week we lost power. In hindsight, it was liberating. Think about this: how often do you go into a room and turn on...something? I (we) weren't worried in the least. In addition to having fewer distractions and fewer things in general, in the event of a zombie invasion (or more likely, a hostile government takeover), I had less stuff to pack and could easily flee in a (likely) futile attempt to save the world!

At any rate, the great majority of my things are still boxed up in my parents' basements and attics. In all honesty, I forget most of what's in them (which is why they're labeled). I'm due for a huge yard sale one of these days. I've decided to stop collecting things, especially things that I don't use and probably never will.

But, always a collector, I've switched to collecting experiences. It's been about a year since I decided I needed to "step outside" and do more than just stagnate in my own whirlpool of repetition in middle class America. In that year, I've experienced...well...a lot. It's surely been different. If I tried to form them into something tangible, the closest I could come would be to just start naming a bunch of places. Some top fives (not just from this past year):

Favorites/Places I'd love to see again (this is tough)

Crater Lake, Oregon (by far)

Redwoods National Park, California

The Badlands, South Dakota

The Pacific Coast, Oregon

Joshua Tree, California

Honorable Mentions

Yellowstone/Grand Tetons, Wyoming

Grand Canyon, Arizona

Portland, Oregon

The Outer Banks, North Carolina

Aprovecho, Cottage Grove, Oregon

I don't desire to go back to...

The Washington, DC metro area

The entire Midwest (at least in Summer)

York, PA

Missibama (Even though I got that free truck stop shower in Mississippi)

Atlanta, Georgia

I would still love to go to...

Glacier National Park, Montana

Yosemite National Park, California

Sequoia National Park, California

Ionia, Alaska

Vermont (believe it or not, I've never been...)

I hope this has inspired you to think about favorite places you've visited, experiences you've had, where you'd still like to go and hopefully will. Leave a comment if your heart moves you. Maybe you'll inspire me to expand this list. I'm definitely looking to collect some more... Next for me will be a return to one of my favorite places surprisingly not on this list...CANADA!

Stories From the Road: The Truck Stop of Christmas Present(s)

Another posthumous road trip story that went unpublished nearly 5 months ago. I think I'm caught up now.

Throughout my travels, I've been very fortunate to have known and encountered many gracious people, people who I'm never sure I could show enough gratitude in return for what they did for me. Even the simplest of things seem great in hindsight.

I spent the 3rd night of my East Coast return trip in glorious Phoenix, Arizona, hanging out (briefly) with my friend Zane. The weather was beautiful, the beers were plentiful and many laughs were had. And even though he warned "You'll have to sleep on my floor," I was more than satisfied with that. I was also very grateful the next morning when I awoke to find coffee in the pot and knowing I had access to a shower. Thanks buddy.

It's strange what traveling great distances can do to skew your perception of time, because that was the last shower I took in what felt like forever. It was actually only 3 days, but in those 3 days, I hiked a couple miles around the rim of the Grand Canyon, explored a few towns on historic Route 66, got lost in the desert in New Mexico, pit stopped in Dallas to take an obnoxious photo of me flipping the bird to Cowboys fans and traversed almost 2,000 miles in parts of 5 states. The last day in particular felt like an eternity as I was driving through torrential downpours in Northern Texas and Louisiana. When it finally stopped raining, I was somewhere around Jackson, Mississippi and I noticed it was much, much warmer. I could actually open the windows! Exciting stuff! Anyway...

I stopped at a truck stop for the usual fare, but upon getting out of the car, I just felt...dirty. I know I've gone longer without showering or changing my clothes before, and I wasn't keen on the idea of having to pay for one, but for some reason that's all I could think about before doing anything else. So I walked in and had the following exchange with the attendant:

Me: "How much does it cost to rent a shower?"
Attendant: "It's $12."
Me: "Uhhh...man...is there a discount if I fill up? I need to buy gas too."
Attendant: "I'll tell you what: you look like you could really use a nice, hot shower. It's on me."
Me: "No, you don't have to do that."
Attendant: "Come on, take it. Merry Christmas."
Me: "Are you sure, sir?"
Attendant: "Yes. Man needs a shower, right? Man's gotta shower!"
Me: (a splurge of thankful remarks)

I know I labeled myself as a bit of a cheapskate. Hey, I was unemployed at the time... Aside from the attendant basically saying that I looked road-weary and disheveled, I couldn't have been happier. The shower itself was in better condition than the dorm showers I endured in my freshman year. Afterward, I felt infinitely better, ready to drive another 2,000 miles! OK, maybe not.

Yea...it's only a shower. But in all sincerity, at that time the simplest of generosity really did mean everything to me. I filled up my tank and as a token of appreciation, I tipped the attendant, and it still didn't feel like enough. So wherever you are, thank you for giving the smallest of gifts. You have no idea how energizing and refreshing that was to me.

Stories From the Road: Friends in All Places

Note: I'd written this post but never published it. 4 1/2 months late is better than never, right?

Two days into my trip back east, I was passing through San Francisco on my way to Joshua Tree National Park when I received a call from a friend I had met at Aprovecho. He had heard that some friends of ours were stranded in JTNP on THEIR way back east. They had a whole separate saga of their own that led up to this point and could use any help they could get.

My original plan was to camp the night in the park, but due to some wrong turns, traffic and staying longer at a gas station to help a guy fix his truck, I didn't get to Joshua Tree until about 9:30 PM. Thankfully my friends had the foresight to book a room for the night. Even more thankfully, they had an extra bed for yours truly. By the time I got there, the campground was closed, and who knows if there would have been a spot available at that time of night anyway? All they asked in return was a ride to the airport, which by cab probably would have worked out to be the same price. It all comes out in the wash.

When I started this trip, I had some loose plans, but there were a lot of question marks. This is just another time when I just went with it and randomly, things fell into place...for all of us. Their car, though broken down, was shipped back to South Carolina that day. I picked up some of their more important articles (things you wouldn't trust in the hands a baggage handler) and carried them with me across the country, AND I ended up staying with one of them when I got to SC almost a week later. Is it karma, fate, an alignment of the universe, or something else?

Maybe it's as simple as my friend Caleb put it: "When you're a wanderer, you tend to run into the other wanderers you know, and you help each other...wander." Haha.

So basically, you're never alone. That's good to know. When I look around, I'm never surprised where I find my friends anymore. They're in all places.

If the Opportunity Arose...

I'd do it again.