Just finished reading Jane Smiley's Pulitzer Prize winning novel of the above name. Like her fictional Cook family, my ancestors spent generations acquiring and working one thousand acres of rich Iowa farmland only to see it all sold off in the end. It's a very sad novel, but it sure did bring back some memories.
As a kid who ended up spending most of his childhood living on a lovely Missouri lake, nothing ever seemed as long as a summer day spent in rural Iowa. After exhausing all of the usual amusements in a few hours, the afternoons and long evenings would stretch out interminably.
One of the few amusing parts of Smiley's book was when she described an unconventional farmer whose menagerie included a parrot and three well-trained dogs. As she described it, when no one was around and a dog happened to wander into the living room, the parrot would give it commands. And the dog would obey.
I'm not really sure why this strikes me as so funny; perhaps it's not knowing whether the participants were oblivious or that the parrot actually knew it was toying with the dogs' misguided obedience. Either way one imagines it, though, it would look pretty darn silly of the dog.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
I Dated a Murderess
Hello again and okay, make that an 'alleged murderess'.
I don't know if you ever saw a TV movie called “Murder in the Hamptons”, but I found out a week ago that it features a woman named Generosa Rand. Not only had I dated her just before moving from LA to New York, but, as I was soon to learn, she had followed me east the following year band had even taken the same sort of job I'd first had there - as a real estate agent... kinda like she was emulating me.
I never saw her again after she moved to Manhattan, but she ended up in a marriage that fell apart in 2001. Subsequent events included nasty allegations, adultery, divorce proceedings, and the gruesome murder of her husband just in time for her to inherit his entire $80 million estate.
Then her ex-con boyfriend divorced his wife and married Generosa the very next day. Her new hubby, an ex-con, soon got locked up for four months on a DUI conviction, got out, got thrown out of her house, beat up a crew member on a tour boat, etcetera. Meanwhile, Generosa succumbed to cancer in 2003, missing learning about his conviction for murder the following year.
There's a lot more to the story I was inspired to write on this subject, but I had to chop it out here as I'd like to sell it to the New Yorker. Suffice to say that she turned out to be creepy, and crazy (just like her dear old mom), and, if she had been stalking me, I'm rather glad she never found me. I mean, sheesh, life's short enough as it is!
I don't know if you ever saw a TV movie called “Murder in the Hamptons”, but I found out a week ago that it features a woman named Generosa Rand. Not only had I dated her just before moving from LA to New York, but, as I was soon to learn, she had followed me east the following year band had even taken the same sort of job I'd first had there - as a real estate agent... kinda like she was emulating me.
I never saw her again after she moved to Manhattan, but she ended up in a marriage that fell apart in 2001. Subsequent events included nasty allegations, adultery, divorce proceedings, and the gruesome murder of her husband just in time for her to inherit his entire $80 million estate.
Then her ex-con boyfriend divorced his wife and married Generosa the very next day. Her new hubby, an ex-con, soon got locked up for four months on a DUI conviction, got out, got thrown out of her house, beat up a crew member on a tour boat, etcetera. Meanwhile, Generosa succumbed to cancer in 2003, missing learning about his conviction for murder the following year.
There's a lot more to the story I was inspired to write on this subject, but I had to chop it out here as I'd like to sell it to the New Yorker. Suffice to say that she turned out to be creepy, and crazy (just like her dear old mom), and, if she had been stalking me, I'm rather glad she never found me. I mean, sheesh, life's short enough as it is!
Friday, October 9, 2009
Day 6
Yesterday's blog was called on account of rain. Okay, well, actually, it was lightening.
My prior computer turned wonky after a lightening strike surged in through my Internet connection, but then continued working just well enough to prove frustrating. Consequently, I now always unplug all connections to my new machine whenever the weather threatens. May this be a warning.
While the above certainly qualifies as a random musing, such is not the intent of this blog. Ultimately, this is to serve as a mini 'virtual vacation,' a travelogue, with pictures, of a lengthy road trip I currently lack the wherewithal to take. Speaking of which, perhaps I should get on the phone and try to nail down some funding.
File this as an exercise in frustration, if not futility.
My prior computer turned wonky after a lightening strike surged in through my Internet connection, but then continued working just well enough to prove frustrating. Consequently, I now always unplug all connections to my new machine whenever the weather threatens. May this be a warning.
While the above certainly qualifies as a random musing, such is not the intent of this blog. Ultimately, this is to serve as a mini 'virtual vacation,' a travelogue, with pictures, of a lengthy road trip I currently lack the wherewithal to take. Speaking of which, perhaps I should get on the phone and try to nail down some funding.
File this as an exercise in frustration, if not futility.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Day 4 - Off Road
"You dig 16 tons and what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt."
These old song lyrics, courtesy of Tennessee Ernie Ford's 1950s classic, just popped unwanted into my head. If you're old enough, you may remember this next bit as well:
"St. Peter don't you call me, 'cause I can't go,
I owe my soul to the company store."
Ahhh, humor. Yes, for some inexplicable reason, I find these largely relevant lyrics rather uplifting. Perhaps dire straits seem less ominous when set to a catchy melody. In any event, ever optimistic, I now head off for another meeting with a potential funder of my company's intriguing green energy technology. And so it goes...
Another day older and deeper in debt."
These old song lyrics, courtesy of Tennessee Ernie Ford's 1950s classic, just popped unwanted into my head. If you're old enough, you may remember this next bit as well:
"St. Peter don't you call me, 'cause I can't go,
I owe my soul to the company store."
Ahhh, humor. Yes, for some inexplicable reason, I find these largely relevant lyrics rather uplifting. Perhaps dire straits seem less ominous when set to a catchy melody. In any event, ever optimistic, I now head off for another meeting with a potential funder of my company's intriguing green energy technology. And so it goes...
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Day 3 - Off Road
Well, finally! Progress (of sorts).
After 8 months of effort, I've finally had a meeting with someone who can help secure the $120,000 that my employer needs in order for us to verify the science behind our transformative energy technology. I'm hoping a by-product of his efforts will be getting me the $10K I need for hitting the road.
During yesterday's blog, I remembered a recent conversation I had with a New York Investment Banker. Bit of a wanker, actually, and always pessimistic. After that lengthy (and fruitless) conversation, I remember thinking the following:
People with money can afford to be pessimistic. This is a luxury that the financially pinched do not have. For the poor, the only sensible choices are to be optimistic... or dead.
That said, let's do hope it doesn't come down to the second option...
After 8 months of effort, I've finally had a meeting with someone who can help secure the $120,000 that my employer needs in order for us to verify the science behind our transformative energy technology. I'm hoping a by-product of his efforts will be getting me the $10K I need for hitting the road.
During yesterday's blog, I remembered a recent conversation I had with a New York Investment Banker. Bit of a wanker, actually, and always pessimistic. After that lengthy (and fruitless) conversation, I remember thinking the following:
People with money can afford to be pessimistic. This is a luxury that the financially pinched do not have. For the poor, the only sensible choices are to be optimistic... or dead.
That said, let's do hope it doesn't come down to the second option...
Monday, October 5, 2009
Day 2 - Off Road
In which, gentle reader, we once again find me contemplating my navel. To clarify, this is a somewhat archaic way of saying I'm entertaining philosophical thoughts about my existence.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the funds I've been seeking to finance a protracted trip through the hinterlands did not mysteriously appear overnight. Well, no one said it would be easy. But perhaps there is some light at the end of the tunnel. Tomorrow I'm scheduled to meet with a man who allegedly has $40,000,000 in the bank.
Granted, the meeting concerns his possible investment in a company I represent - a company that may just possibly have the solution to our planet's need for a source of non-polluting, renewable energy. And wouldn't that be nice?
However, I'm hoping that a few crumbs fall my way. Perhaps he will be intrigued by my plans for more or less running away for a month, although nothing about his circumstances suggests that I should expect him to fell sympatico with the concept of escaping the work-a-day world. Still, one can dream.
And so it goes... (I mean that figuratively, of course, as at present I'm not going anywhere in a literal sense.)
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the funds I've been seeking to finance a protracted trip through the hinterlands did not mysteriously appear overnight. Well, no one said it would be easy. But perhaps there is some light at the end of the tunnel. Tomorrow I'm scheduled to meet with a man who allegedly has $40,000,000 in the bank.
Granted, the meeting concerns his possible investment in a company I represent - a company that may just possibly have the solution to our planet's need for a source of non-polluting, renewable energy. And wouldn't that be nice?
However, I'm hoping that a few crumbs fall my way. Perhaps he will be intrigued by my plans for more or less running away for a month, although nothing about his circumstances suggests that I should expect him to fell sympatico with the concept of escaping the work-a-day world. Still, one can dream.
And so it goes... (I mean that figuratively, of course, as at present I'm not going anywhere in a literal sense.)
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Day One - Off Road
Right. Well, I had thought it would be amusing to start my month-long Western Swing road trip today - 10/4. But just as CB radios and their lingo have fallen out of general favor, so too have my finances declined below the point of viability.
Now the clock is seriously ticking. Night time temperatures are falling into the 30s now across much of the Northwest, and it probably won't be long before some of the tortuous scenic back highway routes I've plotted will begin to be encumbered by snow. This would certainly take much of the fun out of tearing along them in a light-weight sports car.
Tree leaves are also turning against me, with forests transforming into increasingly vibrant cascades of fall colors while I sit here in KC, my cameras idle. And so, I shall continue to strive to raise the necessary funds to get the heck out of town. This situation is definately not 10/4.
Tick tock, indeed.
Now the clock is seriously ticking. Night time temperatures are falling into the 30s now across much of the Northwest, and it probably won't be long before some of the tortuous scenic back highway routes I've plotted will begin to be encumbered by snow. This would certainly take much of the fun out of tearing along them in a light-weight sports car.
Tree leaves are also turning against me, with forests transforming into increasingly vibrant cascades of fall colors while I sit here in KC, my cameras idle. And so, I shall continue to strive to raise the necessary funds to get the heck out of town. This situation is definately not 10/4.
Tick tock, indeed.
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