Sunrise, Sunset

In the musical Fiddler on the Roof, Tevye and Golde, our parental protagonists, sing a gorgeous and bittersweet piece called Sunrise, Sunset, about the joy and pain of watching their children grow up. We can feel their tristesse as they sing “I don’t remember getting older/when did they?” But I don’t know if Tevye and Golde knew that the pain can run both ways.

My mother died late one night, four years ago. My dad passed away quietly in 1995. While I was never all that close to my dad, it’s still a bit weird to think that Mother is gone. Every time I took a trip, I would call her on the phone and tell her all about it. I think she got a vicarious kick out of hearing about places she never got to see and things she never got to do. These days, each time I go on a trip, I feel as though I should give her a call and hear her laugh as I describe my adventures to her.

Richard and Carol Eberhard have been so good to me…they are like a second pair of parents, Suzi and Carl are the best siblings I could have dreamed of. You know, that feels mildly unfaithful to Mother, and the rest of my family. Mom had such a problem with the Eberhards—she later confessed to me that it was because she feared I loved them better than her. It is so sad that she never really believed that I had enough love in my heart for all four parents.

I also sometimes feel, albeit very mildly, that I am stealing from Suzi and Carl…but that’s another story.

I just spent a week with my “second parents” at their home in Los Angeles. We drove up to Cambria and stayed in a beautiful hotel on the beach. We dined like royalty, spent happy times talking, shopping, and just being together.

I see my second set of parents dealing with their own mortality now. Carol walks with a cane—Richard, still strong and vigourous in his late 70s moves a little more slowly than he once did. They discuss their mortality with their children, all three of us. I’ve come to love these geeky, ultra-intelligent, adoptive folks of mine, and it hurts to see another set of parents grow old.

A few years ago, songwriter Warren Zevon was unexpectedly confronted with a rapidly oncoming death from cancer. Someone asked him what he had learned about life and he said, “Enjoy every sandwich.”

See the beauty in every tiny detail of every day, because you never know what tomorrow will bring.

I think that is the only advice I can offer myself…to hold every minute in my heart, and to be thankful for those fine folks who took in a 17-year-old stray back in 1981, and made me a part of their lives.

Today I am sitting in a nice beachfront hotel in Cambria, California. Outside, waves relentlessly pound a beach the colour of granite and the sun marches downward toward the Pacific. It's freaky idyllic. As I walked back to my room a little sqadron of monarch butterflies swarmed around my head, seeming to say "Stupid primates! You were so busy developing those big forebrains and opposable thumbs that you forgot to learn how to fly." Invertebrates say things like that to me all the time. Strange little arthropods.

Thursday we drove to Hearst Castle, that marvellous chateau in the San Simeon Mountains where newspaper and movie magnate William Randolph Hearst housed his art treasures. Two hours of walking, stairs, artistic marvels, history, and beauty. A trio of Australian blondes about my age flirted with me a bit, which was fun, although it made me all the more acutely aware that my own special someone is far away.

This has certainly been an interesting week. it started with my darling friend Suki taking me, Suzi, and our dear friend Chris out to see avant-garde violinist, composer, and performance artist Laurie Anderson. I've seen this woman perform about six times, and she never fails to top herself...It was a great start to this week.

The next day, I flew to Los Angeles to be with my "second parents," Carol and Richard Eberhard.

Richard and Carol are the parents of my best friend, Suzi. They have more-or-less adopted me and become more like family than people in my 'real' family are. They certainly treat me like family. They've spent a fortune on this trip, and we've been having such a nice time.

I sometimes tell clients that I met the Eberhards when I was about 17 years old, and they started having me over for dinner, they just never really stopped doing that.

We drove up the California coast, past post-card views and quaint little towns, to Cambria, a tiny dot on the map, crammed with more hotels than I have seen this side of Eureka Springs, Arkansas.

The first time I ever heard of touring Hearst Castle, it was when an ex girlfriend toured in in the 90s. I thought "What's the point of going to see some rich jerk's monument to his own ego. But Hearst Castle isn't like that. Well, it is a monument to a guy who was quite amazing, but had a bit of a brooding side and a flair for the melodramatic. In one of his big rooms he had a concealed panel where he could pop out, tuxedoed and suddenly be amongst the guests without anyone seeing him show up. Sometimes he would show up with a tray of cocktails and a towel over his arm and people who had not met him would assume that Mr. Hearst was, in fact, the butler.

Hearst was one of those amazing guys like Howard Hughes (albeit considerably less weird than Hughes) who did a bit of "it all." As a boy he toured Europe with his mother, as an adult he made a fortune publishing newspapers. Later, he inherited his parents' giant ranch and had the magnificent estate built on it. It's less of a castle than a ginormous villa, really.

Hearst went into the movie industry, which was young at the time, and entertained luminaries like Clark Gable, Hedda Hopper, Greta Garbo, W.C. Fields, and Charlie Chaplin at his California estate, one of seven homes the fabulously wealthy man kept around the world.

Men like Hearst make me feel a bit small. I mean, as a lad I thought I was destined for greatness--perhaps I would be an eminant scientist, a great doctor, or a captain of industry. I would see the world, and do amazing things. I never envisioned the quiet little life I would have. I look at the accomplishments of people like WR Hearst and I am suitably humbled.

I'd actually still love to spend a year or so touring Europe like young Hearst did. I'd take my sweetie, or my sis...preferably both, and see many of the great historical sites of the Old World. Work on my book, see places where great people did great things. That would be amazing.

This has been quite a year in the quiet little life. I went to England, spent time in Port Arthur with friends, went down to Conroe and got to pet a wolf, and now I am in California. It's been fantastic, really.

Then there's the love stuff. The last 12 months has been the most complex year, love-wise, in my entire life, but good. I'm more content than a man has a right to be. Really good, in the final reckonking.

When I back up and reflect on the blessings I have: my family, my friends, my girlfriend, a job I love...I feel very fortunate indeed. It's a quiet little life, but it seems to suit me well.

I'd still like that year in Europe though.

Some Links for a Lynx

As I was giving out the URL for this here blog to another wonderful client tonight, I suddenly realised that I have never made the post I'd wanted to--a simple thing with the address of my Flickr photo album, Suzi's artwork, and a gratuitous picture of me with my new, shorter hair (and new glasses)

http://flickr.com/photos/11701835@N02/
This URL will take you to my Flickr site...a place where you can see my pics from London, from the Grand Canyon, from Wolf Park in Indiana, and even pics of me and my friends. It is almost too cool to comprehend that we can share our pictures like this.

http://flickr.com/photos/7694953@N05/
This URL takes you to Suzi (my little sister)'s Flickr site. She's quite a great artist, and I'm very proud of her--check out her art and her pics from her own travels

http://www.cafepress.com/wolfwaredesign
and this is her cafe press store. Speaking of cool...she can put her cool art directly on shirts, mugs, even undies! Her descriptions are totally hilarious, and the items are great...I have a "zen" mug...you all know what you are getting from me for Christmas, right?


and here is the pic I promised

Thoughts on London

Some people seem to feel that looking at the miracles of creation—the arm of a spiral galaxy or an electron photomicrograph of a dragonfly’s wing, for example—is supposed to make a person feel small and insignificant. In my career as a science student, and later as an amateur nerd, I never foundit that way! I guess it’s a measure of how strong my ego is—but I would look at some distant nebula or some amazingly complex structure magnified twenty thousand times and I’d think “Sweeeeet” … but it never made me feel small against the creations of nature.

The creations of mankind are a whole ‘nother matter.

Need a dose of humility? Go to London. I was walking the streets once paced by people like Elizabeth the First, Winston Churchill and Charles Dickens. I mean seriously! It’s hard not to get a little intimidated—to look at one’s own quiet little life and just kind of shake one’s head.

“It is a sobering thought that when Mozart was my age, he had been dead for two years.” – Tom Lehrer

Of course Mozart didn’t hang out in London much, but Edward Elgar hung out there sometimes, and G.F. Handel lived there full time, and Ralph Vaughan Williams wrote a symphony about the place…well, you get the point.

Note to friends: this is not me being “emo” or dissatisfied with my life—please understand that no one is a bigger fan of me than…well, me! But there’s nothing wrong with a taste of humility.

Here I was, amid places where many great works of art were created, historical decisions made, great scholars born and educated, and famous entertainers launched their careers…it’s more than a bit daunting.

I fell in love with London in my two weeks there. I spent too much money, walked enough to give myself blisters, and made a lot of friends. I will go back when I can. Unless I find that giant gold meteorite I keep talking about, it may not be soon, but it will happen.

Another note to friends: I've now replaced the pictures on the other blog posts (except the first one, where it's just a pic of a Union Jack and a pic of an airplane) with pictures I (or in a couple cases, Dimmie) took. Please feel free to go look. I mean, you're here already and all.

Home again, home again...Jiggidy Jig!

5^th May, local time unknown (probably something around 17.00), Flying over the Atlantic Ocean

Dimmie went home on Friday, and I really didn’t feel like writing much in here after that. Suzi came in on Saturday night, and, on Sunday…we rested. Today, it’s back to the USA and our regularly-scheduled lives.

I do have one great anecdote, relating to a restaurant called The Texas Embassy. We saw this place as we were taking a bus tour of the city, right there, overlooking Trafalgar Square. I looked and saw the Texas flag, outside this place that looks like a restaurant. Turns out to have really good food of the sort we have here. Dimmie took me there on her last day in England. (note that in the picture, the sign says "Michelob IMPORT!" hehehehe things are different in other countries)

The place surprised me, the music, food, and ambiance are all very authentically Texan. I may even write the place up for E2. Over margaritas, I explained the concept of chicken fried steak to Dimmie (even thought that wasn’t what I got for dinner).

Chicken fried steak, called “country fried” or “southern fried” virtually EVERYwhere outside the South, is basically a cutlet, tenderized, breaded and fried. Served with cream gravy and usually with mashed potatoes. Great stuff…not exactly health food, but very tasty.

So, instead of chicken fried steak, I opted for nachos, while she got a salad with fried chicken strips. The nachos were authentic, the beef was a little better than you’d usually find, the sour cream mellower, and they were a touch stingy with the jalapeños, but nacho making is NOT an exact science, and these were well within the parameters for a regular order of nachos. The nachos were good enough to make me homesick and the salad was bigger than my dainty Danish dame could finish. That was another accurate thing, huge portion sizes.

She’s never been to Texas, but she did catch one minor inaccuracy. Upstairs was a cantina, and over the bar hung a huge and lovely painting of a completely naked lady. Not hard-core, but definitely nothing you could show in a PG-13 movie.

“She’d be wearing something if these were actually Texas, wouldn’t she?” my travelling companion asked.

She learns fast.

Dimmie and I had a lot of fun. We walked and talked and shared, we saw London together and talked. I miss her, but we were together the right amount of time.

Suzi also had a good, if exhausting time, at the wedding in Cornwall, then spending time with Jess. I am constantly impressed by the level of friendship and love she’s found with this little tribe of amazing people…individuals she met, more or less by chance, on the Internet, of all things!

In 26 years of friendship with the woman whom I think of like a sister, I have seldom seen her so happy, so comfortable, so ALIVE, as when she is discussing her british friends—the adventures they’ve shared, the fun they’ve had, and the plans they are making.

Between my experiences with Dimmie, and the happy times Suzi had with Chris, Kat, Jess, Walter, Matt, etc etc etc etc … I could hardly be happier.

6^th May, local time 5:02pm, in my room, Richardson, Texas

It’s been quite an adventure! I slept 12 hours last night, and maybe the jetlag will have worn off. It’s a little bit weird to be back home, back to my quiet little life, but it was the best holiday…errrm…I mean vacation, that I could have ever hoped for.

Now comes unpacking, getting back to work, figuring out my finances (the airplane tickets were a gift, but the hotel stay was a big ouch!), going over two weeks of junk mail (that’s a lot), and generally trying to re-organise my life.

Big thanks to everyone who read about my trip, who helped out, and who rooted for us on our big adventure. It’s been magical.

Lost, Museums, and Bunny Pals

Wednesday, 4:44pm (16.44), Lynton Hotel, London

I've had a couple more wonderful days of walking, touring, and getting lost. Getting lost is really a lovely thing to do on a trip (better in London than, say, New Orleans or Los Angeles, though). Monday, we took a bus tour which went around many of the sights of this old city. I did not wear a jacket...well, it was warm when I left the hotel. Anyway, it wasn't TOO bad, and I wasn't the only person around with short sleeves, but it was a bit chilly.

After the bus tour, we got lost several times, but that's all in good fun. With the A-Z, and all the streets and tube stops being so well marked, it's almost impossible to get very lost. But it is so interesting to walk down streets and through parks, squares, past ancient churches and brand-new shops. London is a great place to walk.

Yesterday, we got lost yet again...this time in some very posh...er...I mean 'swanky' parts of town. Chelsea, Sloane Square...we saw Harrod's, in addition to hundreds of places which sell expensive clothing and housewares. I'd have loved to linger, but I developed a really bad blister on my right Achilles' heel area...owtch! Blisters aside, this has been a perfect holiday...or ... ummm ... vacation, as we'd say in the states.


Thursday, 8:00pm (20.00), Lynton Hotel, London

Yesterday, Dimmie and I went to the Natural History Museum. Unbelievable...Fossils, dinosaur reconstructions, and a real, live tyrannosaurus rex. Well, it looked pretty real to me, anyway. It was some of the best animatronics I've ever seet. There were also the obligatory taxidermied animals--superb specimens which were a total delight to the biology nerd (not that I know any biology nerds or anything!).

After that, the tube and a long walk took us to the British Museum. Every place is walking distance to my dear friend Dimmie...I believe if the Atlantic were paved (and there were abundant cafes on the way), she'd just walk over to visit me!

Okay...I'd heard about the British Museum...a lot about it...but nothing, and I mean NOTHING can possibly prepare you for it. It's unbelievable. One of the first things you can see is the Rosetta Stone...the genuine, bona-fide, ROSETTA- FREAKING- STONE!!!! In the flesh...or in the stone, more correctly, I guess.

They also have Greek and Roman artifacts galore and a couple of tons of amazing old stuff from Egypt, Assyria, and Sumer. They had more cuneiform that an....than a....well, let's just say that they had a LOT of cuneiform. We only took in a small portion of the museum and yet it was absolutely amazing.

I had my geek hat on pretty much all the way throught the museums--I was finding gods, goddesses, and heroes from numerous cultures...I should have brought a notebook to write them all down for Mythical Beings. Among the Mesopotamian stuff, I saw some carvings dedicated to my favourite Sumerian king...yeah, I have a favourite Sumerian king.... WAIT! Where are you going? No...hear me out....My favourite Sumerian king is the great Ashurbanipal (685 - 627 BCE) ... but mostly because his name sounds quite a bit like "As your bunny pal"... and if that's not a great reason to love an ancient middle eastern potentate, I don't know what is... (and that may be the most Kellum paragraph ever written, in my opinion!)

Further adventures in Old Blighty

Monday 5:15pm (17.15), Lynton Hotel, London

Saturday was a gathering of E2 writers organised by my wonderful friend Ella. The noders (E2 writers are called noders, just go with it!) and I wandered London, looking at historical places and things. Ella is quite the history maven (she's the tiny one in the photo)

After a full day of walking and talking with these amazing folk, it was dinner at an Italian restaurant (in Islington...I just like saying that name!). I got an American calzone--red bell peppers, pepperoni, maranara, and lots of cheese--not particularly 'American' but really delicious.

Then, it was off to the pub for a pint, and amazing conversation. Like the American noders I've met, the Britnoders are a terrific bunch: articulate, opinionated, and freaking brilliant. I participated in (or just listened to) a number of great conversations. If you'd like a full run-down of how it went, here's the link to the stories (the one by Sam512 is especially funny): http://tinyurl.com/2p678v

I must confess, like the USA-vian noders I've met, I occasionally felt quite out of my depth. It is a bit intimidating and sometimes a bit demoralising to spend the day with so many really smart and knowledgeable people. Fortunately, they were warm, kind, and accepting--I just kinda kept my mouth shut so as to avoid seeming ignorant or boorish. I used to have a real "thing" about seeming ignorant, but that's eased up over the last ten years, I've been much more accepting of myself as I am. You know, "I don't have to be the best or smartest, just the best at what I am..." That's kind of hard sometimes when you are confronted with so many amazing people in one place. I got a pep talk from Dimmie, and that helped. I think I'm okay now.


After walking six miles or more a day, Sunday was a day of rest. Dimmie and I walked a bit, but a lot of shops are closed in London on Sunday.

There's a little shopping centre (we Ameravians would call it a mall...often pronounced to rhyme with 'gal' or 'Hal' here) near here which is named Victoria Place. Despite its insipid constant announcements ("Hungry? Need a break? Our food court is just upstairs...") accompanied by mind-numbingly simplistic music (what I call 'mental patient music')...the place is pretty good. We frequently shop there, they have a mini-grocery store ("Sainsbury's Local"), a drug store/chemist ("Boots"), and about all the other crap you need for living. Sainsbury's also carries Gin and Tonic in a can...which is so cool and always makes for a fun evening.

We went to a French Cafe upstairs at Victoria Place. Gods and Buddhas have I spent too much money on this trip, but it is so worth it...it's been one of the best holidays (erm...I mean "vacations") that I've ever had! I ate a very good croque monsieur. Unfortunately, even Starbucks (yes, they have them here) had closed down by the time we finished.