Costa Rica: Experiment with Waves as Driftwood

I was feeling John Muir-ish. To know what that means you ought to know that all I know about John Muir is that he was a Scottish naturalist who spent a lot of time in the Pacific Northwest advocating for protected land, laying on rocks to figure out how glaciers moved and getting up into pine trees during storm to feel the sway of them and figure something out with that.

It’s the later part that’s important to how I was feeling John Muir-ish in Costa Rica. It was a rainy day—jungle’s got to stay green—and we’d ditched everything but our swimsuits and sandals at our hotel and run down a beach secluded between some large stones. The rain and win chilled us, but the ocean was warm. We dove in, let it enclose us which it was eager to do, sending waves upon waves—sometimes double—to douse and cover us.

After struggling against the waves and riptides, I retreated to the shore, letting the rain pelt my upturned face and body. It pooled in the sand around me. I had to get up when a group of tourists on a soggy sunset beach ride passed. I didn’t want to be trod upon.

I hadn’t had my fill of John Muir-ish-ness though, so I lay on the sand at the water’s edge letting the waves crash and push me higher up the strand, of pull me into the water. It was hard not to cheat and help the pull since I looked stupid lying limbs awry, sand covered, on the beach. Also, the larger waves got sand in my mouth and eyes—hair and ears too though that was less bothersome—and the sand was getting uncomfortable generally.

So, still not Muir-ed out, and definitely not satisfied with how these experiments were going, I gave the pull some more help by crab-walking* into the surf, turning over, and going limp except to hold my nose—also don’t like sand going there. I would float as long as I could hold my breath, face down in the water until I came up for gulps of air and then back down. Where would the tide take me? The experiment was on.

I could of course tell when it pushed me out and pulled me back. It seemed to keep me about 20 feet from shore in1-3 foot deep water. My toes, knees, hands, elbows, and knuckles dragged and traced arcs in the water. Eyes closed and face down, I couldn’t tell how much turning of my body the arcs indicated. I couldn’t tell what pattern my body was tracing in the churned up and soaked sand.

To solve the problem, I imagined attaching imaging devices to my various joints in order to trace their movement with a computer which I could then render as an image later. The lines would be color coded and I could make it so you could see all the various lines traced, or isolate one for closer scrutiny. In imagining this, my only reference was behind-the-scenes looks at video games and cgi action films and it seems that you needed a blue screen or some flat color behind the cameras, so I’d need to lay that over the sand too. It seemed a bit impractical when I thought I of asking my friends. I’d ask them when I was done John Muir-ing as driftwood. Surely they were paying attention and fascinated by this human performance of driftwood and sea.

Later, when I finally finished, I asked them “Did you see how I was moving in the turf?”

“Yeah, back and forth.”

They were not helpful. They were not in a John Muir mood.

At one time I think I turned around even though my lighter, upper body was usually towards land and my heavier, lower end pointed out to the deep blue. Other than that, my ability to learn something of just how drift wood is acted on by the sea is still a dark, hazy lurching to and fro. And maybe that’s what I already knew, but now I’ve experienced it. Oh, I also learned that it takes a lot of patience to really learn how these processes work, because most of the time, it’s just the same old stuff with tiny variations building into something unseen.

It occurred to me later that I could have just had one of my friends go dead-float for a while and I could have observed them. But I was far too gone in my imaginations of fusing with nature and ferreting out her secrets. I wanted to experience, but I also wanted to understand and analyze what was happening. Not just experience what it was like to be part of the swell and release of the ocean, but to gain some understanding about nature’s secret methods. That’s what I am really after, but that’s not something nature readily gives up. So, for now, I’ll have to be content with being blown by wind, spattered by rain, and rocked gently to and fro in the cradle of her arms.

*editor’s note: The author, if given the chance to create a mythology, would pick the crab as the god of the wind. The crabs seen in Costa Rica ran and scurried as if they had captured the wind and let it out stingily for their own, quick, erratic, graceful flight across the sands.

The 9-5 Experiment

Always eclectic, my new experiment is in commuting and the 9-5 work day. A glorious experiment I have been able to put off for 29 years now. So, it's about time I try it, I suppose. Here are my observations so far.

-Working 9-5 leaves little else in my day--especially with a commute that makes it more like 6:30-6:30. This is lame and makes me wonder if the 9-5 life is worth living in the long run.

-I've gotten used to getting up before 6 am fairly quickly although historically it's been near impossible.

-I'm being trained to sleep in moving vehicles.

-I'm getting some good reading done.

-I love the sun. I miss it.

-Sometimes my soul spontaneously cries out "I want to live!" while waiting for the bus.

-According to the book I just finished commuting is a detriment to happiness and physical health.

-I've become more aware of the positions of the sun and moon.

-I'm becoming a connoisseur of spam and bus drivers.

More on that last point:
This morning on the bus, I realized that I am starting to be a bus lover. I'm seeing things, noticing shades of difference between this and that seat, this and that driver. Yesterday my morning bus driver who has a kind smile and slight nod when I get on was replaced by a beef cow. Nothing but meat behind the eyes. I didn't think much of it yesterday, just headed back to my seat with the extra leg room, opened my book, and eventually folded my arms and took a nap. But this morning, getting on and receiving again the kind look and half smile, I realized I have a rare morning bus driver indeed.

Not only is he kind, he knows how to drive and take corners. A skill not found in every driver. Yesterday on the way home our bus driver was being trained. It was her first run down to Provo from Salt Lake. She didn't even know about the no talking to the driver while driving rule because she chatted the whole time. Mostly about how driving buses in California is better than driving buses in Utah. Honestly, she was talking about how their buses have this or that high tech addition, how their highways make more sense, how this or that regulations is more logical.... Now, I can accept when Californians brag and act superior about their beaches, their redwoods, their Trader Joe's, their In-n-Outs, but their buses? Is there nothing they won't brag about? Where does this superiority complex/little-man syndrome come from?

A wise man said the deepest rivers make the least noise. If that's true than California's awesomeness is a painfully shallow river. Except it's not. I've been there. It's a great place. A couple days of beach living makes me regret my entire Utah childhood. Maybe the non-beach-livers feel like they should live in a great state, but don't get the benefits, feel gyped, and have to take it out on others. Maybe they're unfulfilled with paradise, but since it's paradise can't complain and so have to belittle other places. I don't know. But I may just have a doctorate dissertation in there somewhere.

Guest Horoscope, the Onion

Aries: Though you are a vindictive, cruel, and miserable son of a bitch, you will be rewarded with great happiness and good fortune this week. This is just how the universe works.



The day before I read this I was walking past a gas station that sold California state lotto tickets. And as I gazed at the orange and yellow sun surrounding the sea and baby blue L like a halo on the Cal State Lotto Logo--sorry for all the noun strings, folks--I had something that I've only had a couple times in my life. My lucky feeling. Now, as I say, I don't have this feeling too often. Two times will hopefully illustrate the strength of my lucky feeling.

1. I had it once in high school at the Utah Sports park where I was really wanting a bandanna to tie my hair (long as was the fashion) down on the way back to Provo in my friend's convertible. The Sports Park had a game room with tickets which could be won and traded for prizes. One of the prizes was a white, with red rose, Harley Davidson bandanna. Having recently bought a motorcycle, I thought this was ideal. It only cost 450 tickets. Now to win them. There was a baseball game where you rolled quarters into holes marked single, double, triple, home run, out, strike, ball, etc. You can guess how big, small, easy to hit, hard to hit the respective holes were. Well, the bases were loaded, so if I got a home run, I would win the jackpot which was a little over 450 tickets as I remember. I'd just have to curve the quarter around a big out, have it hop some quarters littering its path, and get it into the quarter sized home run hole. Well, I had that lucky feeling and didn't have my hair whipping into my face on the way home. Yay!

2. This last Christmas BYU's newspaper the Universe had a 12 days of Christmas giveaway sponsored by the bookstore. They had daily prizes of hundred dollar shopping sprees and some grand prizes like a big flat-screen TV, a lap top computer, an iPod of some sort. Neat electronic stuff basically. Well, I had a lucky feeling and went to do the required "game" which would make sure I read the Universe to get the prize. Well, the game was completely idiotic, so I didn't do it. But, i still had that lucky feeling like the Universe--not the newspaper--wanted to do me some good. The final day, I thought of it again and entered. On the way to school I picked up a Universe--the newspaper--to check if I'd won the $100, I hadn't. I thought, shoot, and went to work. Well, i got a call, was put on speaker phone and ended up winning the lap top. It's huge. It has tons of RAM and stuff. It's the grandest of the grand prizes. Triple yay.

So, I had that feeling again. We walked past the gas station--as we didn't need gas--to get some B-grade electronics and sun screen at Rite Aid. On the way back though, I went with the lucky feeling and got my lotto ticket. The numbers were 29, 31, 34, 40, 44 and "mega" 26. They seemed inauspicious numbers. Not much of a spread. Kind of had all my eggs in one over 29 basket--though I am 29 and that could be read as a good omen. Plus, I had that lucky feeling, though it was lessened by the fact that I didn't act on it immediately, and so someone else may have come and bought the winning, random-computer-generated number.

So, in light of the lucky feeling and its track record, I lived the couple of days till I found out as though I really were going to win the 17 million jackpot to be paid out in 26 or 1 installment. Which should I go for? I thought. How should I spend it? Immediately I thought of the maid I would buy for my mom, the senior trips with one or two companions I would offer my nieces and nephews, an out-of-this-world nice wedding present, the help I could give my sister starting her MA, helping myself and others out of debt. Investing $100,000 off the bat for retirement. It's not like I'd miss that little, right? Lots of altruistic stuff. And of course the eye surgery, the car, the new apartment, the many trips to South/Central America, New York, Boston, Hawaii, Iceland, Thailand etc for me. I imagined I would still start and go to my job this coming Monday. No use letting wealth make me a lazy a$$ (get it? dollar signs?). Though I may have quit after a bit to really focus on writing before I went to get my doctorate next year. I mean, that was the plan anyway.

But I did have some darker thoughts as well. I thought, this will make me. I will never actually have to work another day in my life. I will not have to strive for anything in my life. I would be comfortable and secure as far as finances go. Period. It would never be a worry. Anyway, I thought of interacting with friends, going to school reunions, or just being known/remembered by those I know in general and I figured I'd be the guy-who-won-the-lottery guy. I wouldn't be the pilot, i wouldn't be the ukulele-maker, I wouldn't be the professor, the writer, the traveler, or anything. I'd be the lucky punk who got everything he never deserved. Cause who deserves to win the lottery? No one. I can think of people I'd be happy for if they did, but no one deserves it. And then I thought of "Teen Pregnancy: The Musical" and how it speaks out against everything that winning the lottery means and brings.

So I waited. I thought and waited and when i closed my eyes I seemed to see the horizon undulating endlessly--I was also doing a lot of boogie boarding while waiting.

Then the day came to check.

And the winning numbers were:

5, 7, 11, 20, 22, and "mega" 11.

Yep. Not even close. Though I suppose my initial disbelief at the clustering of my numbers was also fallacious. So, I don't have my money set, my mother doesn't get a maid--yet--and me and my siblings won't be set for life. Sad. Luckily, however, I may yet be known and remembered for something other than the lucky bastard who won the lottery. And that is something to be happy about.

In the meantime I'm supporting education. Yay.

The Navy Seal Workout

So, for those of you who have talked to me for the past 6 months, you probably know that I've been doing the Navy Seal preparatory workouts which they say you must be able to do to even think about making it through training. Well, I completed the many weeks. It was an experiment because I was very doubtful I'd be able to complete the final week which involved 20 sets of 25 sit ups, 20 push ups, 15 dips and 5 sets of 12 pull ups. That means 500 sit ups, 400 push ups, 300 dips and 60 pull ups. Well, I recently found out that it is possible to do that many of those things, and I now have the best body of my life as I'm pushing 30. Woo hoo! Not that that's old or anything, but I have heard that whatever body you have at 30 you will have that or worse the rest of your life. It's very hard to push to a higher level after 30, so it's good to be there now.

The only problems have been that I have lost 10 lbs--though I guess I had 10 to lose??--and many of my pants have gotten ridiculously baggy and thus unwearable. Though the pants thing is fine because I found some boot cut jeans at American Eagle that I love so much I feel slightly guilty.

So, another experiment arguably more successful than the overall horoscope one. Though I am about to go searching for some Chinese horoscopes in honor of the Olympics. Hooray for Michael Phelps!

June 25 Guest Horoscope II: Free Will Astrology

Aries: Welcome to Part Two of your outlook for the second half of 2008, Aries. We're checking up on how you're progressing with the challenges you were given near the end of last year. I'm hoping that by now you're well on your way toward leaving your amateur or rookie status behind for good. I trust that you have had a vision of exactly what you need to do in order to boost your level of professionalism, and that you have taken aggressive steps to carry out that vision. If for some bizarre reason you have not yet begun this glorious work, jumpstart yourself immediately. Fate will conspire dramatically on your behalf if you do. Now here's a tip on how to make sure that your inner warrior is operating at peak efficiency: Assume there's always more you can do to raise your standards and aspire to a higher grade of excellence.

I recently wrote in my journal for the first time since the end of last year. My last line was “And that’s how you don’t write a thesis.” At the end of last year I was really spinning my wheels, feeling tons of pressure about writing my thesis but not making any progress on it. I will defend that thesis on Monday, and then will be free to focus my energies and newfound work-ethic and focus on other writing projects like Teen Pregnancy: The Musical, a screenplay about my grandfather’s experience in WWI, many travel narratives and personal essays as well as some plays I haven’t finished. Then I get to read a lot of classics to prepare for the GRE subject test, research PhD programs in folklore, English, Religious Studies, Comparative Studies, MFA programs in Screen and Playwriting, and prepare compelling applications for same. Some time in there I also need to get a job to stem the mighty exodus occurring with my bank account. So, is there more that I can do? Yep. I still don’t get a ton done on the typical day except maybe reading. But I’ve been intending to reinstate daily schedules. Looks like it’s time. Yeah, things are that serious.

June 18 Guest Horoscope: Free Will Astrology

Aries: We're halfway through 2008. It's a perfect moment to take inventory of how well you're capitalizing on this year's unique opportunities. So let me ask you, Aries: Are you working your ass off in order to stoke the fire in your belly? In other words, are you doing everything you can think of to get more motivated? Are you trying hard to supercharge your ambitions and refine your passions? If so, this will be the year when you finally figure out how to do what you love to do a majority of the time -- and how to get rewarded by the world for doing it. It's high time to answer your highest calling.

A quick note about Free Will Astrology, it is the greatest horoscope ever, and I recommend it to anyone and everyone. It got me hooked when, a couple years ago, I read this entry for Aries. Dynamic and applicable. Rob Brezny's oracle nearly always speaks to me. That may lead one to wonder why i haven't been blogging about Rob the entire time. Well, for a couple reasons, his horoscope doesn't need experimentation in my mind, it's less predictive and more advisory, thus it isn't necessarily true or not, but something that I can listen to or not. Also, it tends to treat fairly personal matters I wasn't sure I was comfortable blogging about. That being said, let's blog.

This one is right on. This entire year i have planned that if I didn't get into a PhD program--which I didn't--I would use the time to focus on writing to see if there were any indicators whether I could really make it or not as a writer. That's the thing I want the world to pay me to do and do most of the time. Is my motivation where it needs to be? Not yet. My time management skills are making this dream suffer as well as the ever present thesis. Of course those are just excuses, so I've got to finish revisions on my thesis--though draft 1 and 2 are luckily behind me, yay!--and get into a serious schedule where I focus on my many writing projects. And that brings me to the first thing I need to do: make a list of the writing projects that are most important/most likely to get me going and get to work. So, more on that later.

Thanks, Rob, for the reminder that the years half over and my higher calling is still waiting in the wings.

Hisashiburi

That's Japanese for "long time no see." While I could go through many excuses about how my facebook thesis--ah hem, I meant page--never updates the horoscope anymore, that still doesn't account for the 2-3 horoscopes from April and May that I never got around to responding to though I did save them. I tried to update them the other day, but it's been too long. It would taint my scientific results... which are already tainted tomatoes since I seem to have no more horoscopes from facebook. Booooo, facebook. Boooo. So, I have decided to use some "guest" horoscopes until, and if ever, facebook horoscopes get their act together and start posting horoscopes again because I was finding them fairly relevant. So, new guest horoscope coming soon, and just so you know, Chili-cheese fries at Red Robin at Provo Towne Center Mall are awesome. Four stars easy with great chili, cheese, fries, AND real bits of bacon. Lovely, though the most expensive at $9.