Thanksgiving's Toll on Turkeys

Manly men doing manly things

This month is the fortieth anniversary of the publication of James Dickey's book "Deliverance". A book that explores men challenging themselves both physically and mentally. Then of course they encounter the darkness of other men and discover the depths of their own baser nature. Men traveling into the wild has become well covered in the nonfiction market with books such as "Into Thin Air" by Jon Krakauer or "A Perfect Storm" by Sebastian Junger however, in fiction this type of tale has gone out of fashion. The road map to manhood seems to somehow have become lost today.
I am happy to see that being a man no longer seems to require the clubbing to death of another man or the destruction of some beautiful part of nature but then I never believed that these things were the mark of a man. Something is missing though and I believe a part of what is missing is an exceptance of the dark, violent, nature in the recesses of each of our being. There is also missing the love of the natural enviroment and the sublime beauty found in art, music, creation. Men are a wild combination of destruction and creation but both sides of that nature seem to be derided today. A man needs to explore and understand all aspects of his nature to truly be complete and many men seem to be missing that oppurtunity today.







Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Nez-Perces war club courtesy of the United States Federal Goveremnt, Nec-Perces National Historic Park, Wikicommons - Public Domain

The Power of a Word

I rarely consider the power of a single words but recently I was reminded how powerful an impact they can make. Consider the simple utterance "please". Context is everything and "please" in context can be joyful, painful, humiliating, laughable and a myriad of other possibilities. A single word spoken with conviction in the right circumstance can bring you to your knees, lift your heart to the heavens or leave you breathless with anticipation. A single word whispered can make your heart beat faster and shouted can bring you to your feet. A single word can be the difference between success and failure, hope and despair, life and death. A single world can change everything. A single word recently changed everything for me. Three letters, one syllable, simple but so very powerful. She said, "yes".




Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved

The pleasures of moonlight

Last night I saw the moonlight. It danced over the beautiful landscape and the images still lingers in my mind.The way the light played over the landscape was mesmerizing. Shadows of complete blackness, highlights of stark, beautiful white and the dappled effect as the two met echo even now hours later. The colors were muted and few but that didn't matter because somehow the textures seemed more intense. Edges seemed as sharp as daggers and when the clouds obscured the light everything became softly rounded and out of focus like an impressionistic painting. It is an endless fascination that I come back to explore again and again. The night falls and the moon shines and another world awaits. I await for the evening to come.







Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Clifton Suspension Bridge with a full moon in the background photo courtesy of Wikicommons - Cako

Happy to be back

After many work and personal interruptions blogging will resume. Thoughts and musings on motorcycles, film, traffic, asshattery and other compelling topics will follow at a more frequent pace. No guarantees either explicit or implied are offered on the quality of these future post. Future comments coming soon.


Rubber Ducky Photo and Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved

11,000 times a minute

Eleven thousand times a minute the crank goes around and around. Eleven thousand times a minute the pistons go up and down. Suck, squeeze, bang, blow is the sequence that makes the Blue Meanie go. A gasp of air comes in and goes out. Over and over again the process repeats itself. Almost three thousand liters of air and a few drops of fuel mixed to perfection and used all up. Every minute this goes on as I ride past the people in their wheeled boxes. I hear the sound of the wind, feel the warmth of the sun, smell the tortillas cooking at the bakery. There is no radio, no cell phone calls, nothing to distract me from the world around me. There is speed and motion, sunlight and warmth. I feel the pitch, yaw and roll and I am focused. I am focused on the imminent dangers and the unparalleled pleasures around me. Eleven thousand times a minute the crank goes around as I ride.


Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Crankshaft photo courtesy of Wikicommons - Alex Kovach

A Curious Encounter

This morning as I rode the big Blue Meanie to work I had something occur which I have heard about but until that moment had never encountered myself. As I pulled onto the main street that leads to the on ramp of the interstate I saw a Japanese cruiser in front of me. I pulled up next to the bike and saw that the rider was a mid fifties grey bearded guy who proceeded to pointedly ignore me. Usually when I pull up next to someone on another two wheeler there is an acknowledgement of some fashion.From a simple head nod to a conversation about each others bikes I have always had a cordial interaction. It doesn't seem to matter what either of us is riding we understand that the other person knows what it is like to catch a bug in the teeth and taste that gooey, vegetale taste. We have both had a cell phone talking box driver drift over into our lane and had a fender close enough to polish if we wanted to reach out and do so. We both know that without a jacket rain at fifty miles an hour hurts and that gravel is a poor substitute for asphalt to fill potholes. Perhaps the rider I was along side today had a bad morning. Perhaps he was lost in thought or perhaps he was just anti-social. I'll never know but it was the first time a fellow two wheeler chose to respond in such a way. Then again maybe it was my cologne.



Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Harley riders on I4 photo courtesy of Wikicommons - Ian Griffiths

Raindrops

This morning was damp and misty but I decided to ride the little red dragon instead of taking the transportation module. As I rode it started to sprinkle and the first few raindrops made me wonder if I had made the right decision. Then a small raindrop hit my lips and I tasted how clean and fresh it was and I knew that it was going to be a good ride. It rained just enough to make the streets slick. I slowed down a little and realized that none of the people in their cars had any idea how wonderful the rain tasted or how cool and refreshing the air had become. I was extremely happy that I didn't take the car today.

Motorcycle Photo and Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved

Last night I watched "You've got Mail" and what surprised me most about the movie was the continual blatant product placement and the fact that the lead characters are not particularly likable. Writer/director Nora Ephron had things she wanted to say with the story but it just seemed to come across flat. I also found it hard to believe that after destroying the family business that the Meg Ryan character would ever consider forgiving the Tom Hanks character. It was a completely predictable romantic comedy that made common mistakes. characters were introduced and not expanded upon. There was the stereotypical trophy wife who runs off with the nanny. The significant others of Hank's and Ryan's characters were interesting people who deserved better partners and hopefully found them after being cut loose. Just random thoughts on an old movie.


Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Sandwich photo courtesy of Wikicommons - KF

Exploration

I was looking at a building as I walked down the street a few days ago and I wondered what it looked like inside. I figure many people have that same thought but I have often tried to answer that question. I will walk inside and ride the elevator and explore the floors which are open to me. I look in utility closets and take stairwells. I examine the art on the walls and try out the furniture. These explorations have led to discoveries of amazing palatial bathrooms with more square footage and finer appointments than my home. I've discovered secret alcoves with wonderful mosaic tile work and a private smoking balcony with amazing chairs and an ashtray that was one of the nicest pieces of design I have seen. Then there are the discoveries of mundane cubicle farms and sad lonely offices with dying plants and photos of disgruntled families on the desk. It is a crap shoot but a fascinating one.I don't just explore urban places I try to explore everywhere I go. When I was in high school a buddy and I would grab a backpack and go on all day hikes along the drainage ditches and canals that ran behind and through the suburban community where we lived. We saw the wild unkempt side of the local country club as well as the tennis pro and one of his students studying more than tennis. We had lunch under a grove of pecan trees that must have been over a hundred years old and that now unfortunately has been bulldozed and replaced with a strip center. We wandered stoned in the dappled sun and reveled in the secret joy of discover. I have a friend that likes to take his boat up the canals that run through Houston and show visitors the downtown skyscrapers from a unique vantage point. They gaze up at the towering buildings as herons fly past and fish splash near by them. Even when I am walking through the grocery store I take time to explore the offerings on the shelves. Vacuum sealed gnocchi and smoked,salty seaweed have been two of my better discoveries. I plan to start sharing my discoveries here and hope that I inspire some of you to do the same.




Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Allen's Landing photo courtesy of Wikicommons - Scott Ehardt

Laughing at the absurdity

This morning as I rode to work on the Blue Meanie I promised myself I would show a little discretion and control. I managed to make it about 2 miles into my ride when I saw cars taking evasive maneuvers as Captain Arrogance entered the freeway with total disregard for everyone else on the road. Using no signals and cutting vehicles off without regard for safety or courtesy Captain Arrogance was a barracuda amongst the snapper. He sipped his caffeinated beverage and cut off another driver as he entered the fast lane. As I watched him an overwhelming juvenile urge descended on me and I rolled onto the throttle hard. I pulled up beside the $73,000 Porsche Cayenne GTS and as I pulled even I looked over and waved. He glanced over and as he sipped his coffee he floored the throttle to show me what money and Teutonic engineering could accomplish. I believe he really thought that his high dollar panzer could run with the Blue Meanie. I dropped a couple of downshifts to drive the lesson home and showed Captain Arrogance what two wheeled superbike performance was like. I thought that might be the end of it but the Captain was too stubborn for that and he proceeded to cut traffic off in an even more asinine manner. He got stuck behind some traffic I had passed and in his frustration pulled into the lane of a large black Suburban. As I watched events unfold in my mirrors he almost hit the massive American box causing its driver to start chasing him. My juvenile activity had started a multi-vehicle chase on a busy freeway. I decided I would put some distance between myself and Captain Arrogance and his pursuer. Traffic didn't cooperate and as I waited for a hole to run and hide in the red Porsche pulled up next to me and I saw the angry beet-red face of the Captain cursing at me for having the audacity to show up his 400 horsepower SUV. The black Suburban and its red-faced cursing driver pulled along side and horn honking, middle finger flashing and cursing ensued. I took the opportunity to find the elusive hole and disappeared at a high rate of speed. As I rounded a curve and decelerated to a safe and prudent speed, I saw the Porsche driver make a highly illegal lane change and using all of his power rocket away from the Chevy. Unfortunately he did this just as a cop car entered the freeway. Lights flashed and I am betting Captain Arrogance had the pleasure of receiving many tickets and perhaps getting the chance to sample the City's special accommodations. I laughed in relief that I wasn't joining him then I laughed even harder at my own stupid, juvenile behavior. I laughed so hard I cried at the memory of Captain Arrogance red face spewing profanity at me. I'm not proud of my stupid and dangerous behavior. High speed blasts in morning traffic are antisocial and thoughtless and I do not recommend them. I hope as Captain Arrogance was sitting in the City's metal-barred accommodations he came to have the same realization.

Motorcycle Photo and Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Porsche Cayenne photo courtesy Wikicommons - 3268zauber

Rain and pipes

I am an occasional smoker and it is a vice I practice in careful and controlled moderation. When I started smoking cigarettes thirty years ago I was aware of the risk and so I didn't inhale. That hasn't changed and I have smoked less each year but there is something comforting and wonderful about the taste of smoke in my mouth. A friend told me years ago that for him the sight of his "exposed breath rising to heaven" was one of his secret joys and I heartily agree. I moved from cigarettes to cigars after a short time then fifteen years ago I became a pipe smoker. My grandfather had been a pipe smoker and I recall being fascinated by the pipe racks around his home and the pipes that occupied them. I find pipes to be beautiful works of design as well as practical tools. The tactile sensation of a sand blasted brier or carved meerschaum in my hand as it grows warm from use never looses its appeal. Today is cold and rainy, weather particularly perfect for a pipe. A pipe for me unlike anything else is also an instrument that inspires contemplation. The risk brought on from occasional use seems a fair trade for the pleasures that result.

Photos and Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved

70's dining

A few years ago my step mother gave me gift certificate to Steak and Ale for Christmas. I have to admit I didn't give this gift certificate much thought until my friend Alex came into town and he thought it would be amusing to use it. As we pulled into the parking lot a sense of nostalgic happiness flooded over me. Just about every Friday night my family would head out to a restaurant, usually a steakhouse. We mostly ended up at Bonanza but occasionally it would be a Sizzler or a Steak and Ale. As I walked into the door of Steak and Ale with Alex I felt comfortable and relaxed. I looked over at him and saw a big grin come over his face. I asked what he was thinking and he said " it feels like coming home, there is something so familiar about this place". The restaurant was set up as a series of small separate rooms containing four to six tables each. It made for a cozy environment and the thick carpet and low ceiling as well as the heavily textured stucco walls made for a quiet dining experience. The service was attentive and the food was a step above the regular chain fair. There was nothing healthy or light on the menu but we were eating as our fathers had eaten in their prime; Red meat, alcohol, butter, salt and fat dominated the meal. We spent much of the meal talking about our childhood in the seventies and our fathers influence on the men we had become. I subsequently took other friends to the same Steak and Ale and each time they all responded with a sense of happy nostalgia. Everyone also appreciated the quiet atmosphere and professional service.I keep an eye out for sixties and seventies restaurants now and when I find one I check out how they have held up. Usually they have become a little shabby and rundown and almost always I am the youngest patron in the joint. I like that these places don't embrace the loud, excited, "fun" vibe that most modern chains insist on promoting. I understand that a restaurant wants to turn the table quickly and that a hyper, upbeat, loud environment leads to you eating more of their product but it isn't what I look for when I go out to dine. I think our parents were onto something when they dined out and I plan to continue to search out these forgotten icons of unhealthy food choices. Take a look at another example of our dining past:

http://www.sambosphotos.com/


Image courtesy of Sean Davis, Flickr,creative commons license

Your Maserati does 185 but you don't...

Today as I rode the Red Dragon to work I came upon a lovely Maserati Quattroporte looking and sounding like petrol burning sex. As I followed behind I reveled as each electronically controlled shift happened in just 100 milliseconds. It was the sound of Formula One technology on the street. Then as this piece of Italian loveliness came to the first curve the driver reigned the beauty in and parked it in the turn. As I went by I looked to see if the driver had spilled his coffee or dropped a contract and instead I saw a man in desperate need of driving lessons. The road straightened out and I heard the ripping linen sound only an Italian vee eight makes and the black auto went past only to once again be parked at the next bend. I was able to keep the Maserati in sight and watched as it was driven like an aging Detroit land yacht. I am fortunate to live in an area where I come across exotic high performance vehicles on a daily basis and my hope is that all of their drivers and riders will invest in a little track time and some professional instruction. It made me a much better rider and driver and transformed how I thought about every vehicle I use. Here is hoping that the next time I come across Mr Maserati he has a big grin as he cruises sedately on the straights and uses a little more of his chassis's capabilities.


Image courtesy of Tuigh, Flickr,creative commons license

Soft hands

I love simple products that work well. This morning I was washing dishes and as usual I was wearing rubber gloves. This may seem unmanly to you but as I have aged I have come to realize that rough, chapped hands are no ones friend. My friend Xtine is the one that taught me by example that using gloves just makes sense. Xtine used to visit my old house for parties and being the amazing woman she is always insisted after dinner on washing the dishes. She always asked that I have a pair of gloves for her when she did this task and I complied while secretly thinking it was unnecessary. I must have watched her wash a thousand dishes before I saw the light. Xtine is like a sister to me and sometimes like a sister I forget she is smart as a whip. One day I decided to try using the gloves and I was shocked that they made such a difference. I could continue sounding like a commercial but instead I will just say try them for yourself and if you like them thank Xtine.



Image courtesy of Philipp Figueroa, Flickr,creative commons license

Planning, tools and the unexpected

This weekend while installing a cat fence in the back yard I had time to think about tools and proper planning. The cat fence was a prepackaged system that consisted of poly-fencing, plastic-coated chicken-wire fencing, support poles and hardware. I learned a long time ago that I work best when I get properly organized. I like to lay out all the tools that I need for a job as well as all the pieces of a job before proceeding to make a mess of the job. Unfortunately the manufacturer of the cat fencing did not include a list of tools that would be needed for the job nor did they in their instructions fully explain every assembly process to my simple-minded needs. I laid out the tools I thought I would need then added a couple that are always helpful when building things. Since a sledgehammer was required for the job I already had one of those in the group of tools I would need and I added a sharp utility knife as well as safety glasses. Then the fun started as I discovered some of the assembly subsets went just as described while others needed holes drilled in metal poles and caps aligned with something close to precision. This isn't something that I expected to need to do and my battery powered drill wasn't up to the task of drilling multiple holes in metal. My good friend Sebby had come over to help and offered to provide the use of several of his electric drills. After fetching the tools from his place we then proceeded to drill holes and revel at the power that an electrical outlet can provide. The right tool for a job makes all the difference in the world and I went from cursing to laughing at the ease in which the powerful drill pierced the steel tubing. A difficult task became easier and less time consuming. We then proceeded to assemble and install the fencing. It was relatively smooth sailing and there was the pleasure of bashing things with sledgehammers. In the end the cats are now confined to their own Colditz Castle and until they complete their secret glider plans I and the goddess have no fear of them escaping.




Image from the manufacturer
http://www.kittyfence.com/catfencekits.html

The pleasures of low horsepower

I have been riding motorcycles for about twenty-five years and have enjoyed everyone I've ever ridden. I road raced for about seven years and rode everything from four cylinder, 1000cc unlimited superbikes to single cylinder, 50cc miniracers. I learned more on the low horsepower small engined racers than I ever learned on the hyperbikes. When you have massive horsepower at the twist of your wrist you can forget that the secret to speed is momentum conservation. The goddess has dreamed of a Vespa for a very long time and a few months ago she finally purchased a dragon red LX50 model. It is a beautiful piece of machinery that does what it is designed to do very well. It has plenty of storage, automatic transmission, comfortable ergonomics and zippy handling make for a lovely tool. As the goddess is sensitive to cold she doesn't ride in the winter and having recently had a minor, low speed crash she is a little hesitent to ride so I have been keeping the Vespa exercised. My current bike a Triumph Daytona 955i has 149 horsepower and hardcore roadracing ergonomics which provide a constant temptation to engage in behavior that will get me incarcerated or worse. I can never pull the trigger on the Big Blue Meanie as it is the definition of the nuclear option. When I ride to work and come to a small clearing in freeway traffic I always try to top the ton if only briefly and that 100 MPH blast isn't tapping the beast potential at all. It is like having an exciting, amazing, beautiful, girlfriend who constantly challenges you to rob banks. The Vespa looks like the fun, clever, cute, girlfriend who wants to take slow walks in the park and eat a healthy vegan picnic with her. There is a secret to the little red dragon though beneath her mild exterior beats the heart of a wild woman. The Vespa whispers pin my throttle, never slow down, dive into turns with crazy speed and pass everything on the road. Sure the big boxes will pass you in again on the straights but as their drivers text, eat, and genereal do not engage in driving that is a different and very removed experience from riding the hell out of the little red dragon. I ride as hard and fast as I prudiently or almost prudiently can ride every time I climb aboard the Vespa. I ride harder than is sanely possible on or in any other vehicle I have ever owned. I also never see more than 50 mph. It is a wild, good time and almost no one is the wiser. I also am unlikely to need to call the goddess to come bail me out of the local constabularies accommodations. A secret wild ride in plain sight has become my current addiction. I can't recommend it highly enough.

Photo provided with permission by http://kat-lifeisbeautiful.blogspot.com/

Infrastructure investment and filmmaking

This past weekend I was on a film location for the current independant film I am producing and had a chance to revel in the joys that city investment in infrastructure bring about. We were shooting at Elizabeth Baldwin Park. Until a few years ago Baldwin park was virtually abandoned by the city and had become a haven for the homeless and drug dealers. It was located in a neighborhood that the city had stopped maintaining and investing in years before. The streets were crumbled and businesses were shuttered. The city more than a decade ago with the help of a federal grant started investing in the area again. It started with water and sewer line replacement followed by street and street light repair. This attracted a few brave businesses and pioneering home owners. Which in turn attracted more businesses. Which led to developers building townhomes and revitalizing existing buildings. Today the midtown section of houston is revitalized and becoming a safer and healthier neighborhood. There are cost associated with this change to the families and homeless that had lived in this neighborhood prior to its gentrification. This city has done little to address those cost and that is unfortunate but as I enjoyed the beauty of the refurbished park and watched kids playing and people walking their dogs on a sunday morning I couldn't help but smile.I believe that most cities, states and the country as a whole have been ignoring the crumbling state our parks, streets, civic buildings and services are in for far to long. I think we can make our cities more liveable in a number of ways. check out Baldwin park and read about its namesake. http://www.houstontx.gov/parks/baldwinpark.html

Photo provided with permission Wikimedia Commons, Whisper to me.