East With The Day: The SFO > STL Roadtrip Move, Day 2

After fueling up with a quick breakfast and a lot of coffee, I said goodbye to Wells, NV and continued my trip east. But first I noticed a reminder of where I had come from (courtesy of the Super 8 Motel), and kicked snow off my boots (good practice for my future destinations). Today was a long day of winding passages through mountains, and high winds through rocky northern plains.

Super 8 Motel in Wells, NV with soap from San Francisco, CA

410 miles or so and I was safely through the state of Nevada, and entered the “Elevated State” of Utah and the Mountain Time Zone, which meant I lost another hour of daylight driving time. Before I left Wells, NV, I had checked my Facebook messages and was really humbled by the private messages I had received congratulating me on this move, many from friends who were surprised at the news and certainly with my speedy departure from the Bay Area. (I reflected on those people and their words through most of the day’s drive, and ended the day's reflections too - keep reading.)

I checked the maps and made a plan to try to get to Cheyenne, WY, or maybe even Denver, CO and stay there for a few nights with my sister, Ana-Liza, in her new hometown. I stopped at a rest area just east of the NV-UT border because of the unusual structural design I noticed from I-80: something reminded me of the futurist style of Eero Saarinen’s airport terminal at JFK.

Utah rest area

The orange glossy glazed bricks of the restroom made me miss the dry air heated restrooms at the Nevada rest areas, and the bristlecone pines and an actual pay phone (remember those?) gave the rest stop an historic feel. Stopping to check out the signs there hinted at the unusual design: I was at the Bonneville Salt Flats, where land speed records had been set on the famed “Measured Mile” track. There was even a viewing platform looking out at the test area lakebed. (But I wondered, “Who really drives to a rest area to watch a land speed record being set? Wouldn’t there be a special area set up just for that?” - OK, I’m no expert in land speed records, so that shows you how little I know!) This was also the site of (or near the location of) the first transcontinental telephone line (although my wavering signal bars suggested that cellular reception might be transcontintentally spotty).

Bonneville Salt Flats (rest area)

Bonneville Salt Flats (rest area)

Viewing Platform

View from the Platform (of the Measured Mile speed test area)

View of the sloping walkway ramp to the platform

Historic marker: first transcontinental telephone line: "Can you hear me now?"

The long drive through Utah and Wyoming would bring me past more dramatically different landscapes, interesting place names, and interesting road signs.

Salt flats

Reflections in the salt flats (wet)

No reflections in salt flats (frozen)

More salt flats [recommended reading: Salt: A World History, by Mark Kurlansky]

Wildlife seemed sparse in this region that followed the historic Pony Express Route, moving past places like the Echo Reservoir, Castle Rock, Blacks Fork River, Flaming Gorge, Pilot Butte Avenue, Point of Rocks, Patrick Draw Road (Who is Patrick and does he only draw roads?), Table Rock Road, Red Desert, Carbon County, a Frontier Prison, the Medicine Bow River, and I even crossed over the Continental Divide not once, but twice (check a map for the explanation to that one).

Freight Train (one of 7 seen today) crossing the UT salt flats (this wintry scene made me think of "The X Files" alien mythology - where are those unmarked gray tanker railcars?)

Leaving UT

Echo Reservoir, UT

Red Bluffs in WY

Plateau in WY

Buttes in WY

Clouds in WY (made me think of a tortoise shell)

My trusty Honda making its way through WY

The rare animals included cows, cows + rs (those would be crows), deer (including one dead by the side of the road, surrounded by aforementioned crows), and black-billed magpies with their long tail feathers slicing through the cool air. The road signs included: “Masonic Families of Utah” (the name of my former street address in San Francisco was “Masonic Avenue”); “House of Blinds and Curtains” (billboard showed a cartoon mouse with giant oversized glasses - way to be culturally competent and sensitive to the blind and visually impaired, South Salt Lake City); “Frequent Wildlife Crossings;” “High Wind Advisory;” “High Wind Warning: Gusts 55+ MPH;” “Danger: 6% Grade;” “Next Rest Area 102 miles” (Yikes - pull over now!); Tex’s Travel Camp (my first nickname in college was “Tex”); “Chinese American Restaurant: next exit” (how is that different from “Chinese” food, exactly - are the dishes made with SlimJims and Funyuns?); “Eat It Up in Lusk, WY” (I chose not to stay at that Best Western, for sure!).

I lost count of all the fireworks signs in Wyoming. “Phantom Fireworks,” “Pyro City,” “Fireworks World,” “Fireworks Outlet,” “Fireworks Barn,” and even “Fireworks Blowout Sale - Buy One Get One Free!” Is this state world renowned for pyrotechnics (or pyrotechnics sales)? How did I not know that? The next time PBS does an all-day broadcast on July 4 showcasing celebrations around the country, Cheyenne, Wyoming better bring it. I’m jus' sayin’! If you are done with fireworks, there is also Romantix in WY (billboard described this as an “Intimates Boutique” with clothing and toys for sale...um...) and a place that looked like a dilapidated gas station just off the freeway with a lone sign that said, “ADULT - WY” and “Trucks Welcome”  (also: um...)

Yeah, I passed on all of those places and instead enjoyed a self-serve, soft-serve vanilla cone in Little America, WY.

A happy afternoon gas fill-up break in Little America, WY...and only 50 cents!

I played with the place names I drove by as a solo car game, so here is my Almost-Celebrity List of places I passed today: Delle [Reese], UT; [Eckhart] Tooele, UT; Clive [Owen], UT; [Diana] Aragonite, UT; [Cynthia] Rowley, UT; Dugway [Scott], UT; [Cary and Hugh] Grantsville, UT; Wamsutter, WY (is this where they invented high threadcount bedding?); [Mother] Superior, WY; [Henry] Rawlins, WY; [Upton] Sinclair, WY.

Welcome to Salt Lake county! I'm sure this enormous smokestack and factory have a lot to do with the local industry, but to me it was just a potentially scary sight: like something from a Tim Burton/Danny Elfman diabolically clever fantasy. (Couldn't you just see Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter cooking something up in those furnaces?)

Visible evidence of plate tectonics (and geological time) in UT: take that, anti-evolutionists!

Wind Farm in WY

They better turn these things off when they light all those fireworks in this state!

The high winds and very dark roads combined with at least three fishtailing tractor trailer trucks that I had to pass cut my evening drive short and I stopped in Laramie, WY for the night.

Racing the setting sun eastward through WY

Not a UFO: one day I hope to photograph a perfect lenticular cloud, but this suspicious blue shape hovering in front of the orange clouds was close enough for now.

Continental Divide: 1st of 2 crossings in one day

My WiFi connection and cellular reception in this lovely and quirky little place meant that I did not have much time to respond to messages last night, so I went to bed and got some much needed rest, slumbering and reflecting on the good sentiments I received when I started the day about 600 miles earlier. To answer many quizzical points: yes, I am prepared for cold winters and hot/humid summers. After all, I am a New Yorker: we can survive anywhere! I am sorry that I did not have time for more personal goodbyes with more people, but life has its own timeline, I think.

In WY: today's drive in this scenery with truckers everywhere had me feeling very Thelma & Louise. Well, Louise for sure, unless Brad Pitt miraculously appears in a cowboy hat holding a hair dryer...

The freedom of the open road today reminded me of the variances of time: I crossed one time zone and three (almost four) states over two days' time, a time and distance that a jet airplane can cover in just over a few hours. The landscapes I witnessed evidenced a totally different scale of time: geological time that dwarfs us, and is in turn infinitely small compared to universal time. Here I am in Laramie, WY a place that has all sorts of historical meanings for me and I am also left reflecting on the passage of time and how much or how little cultures and people change over time. I was also reminded of this quote (that I had to look up after bringing Chinese take-out food for dinner back to this kitschy motel with a janky WiFi hotspot connection) from one of my favorite books, West With The Night, by Beryl Markham:

"But I have learned some things. I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesterdays are buried deep - leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour, because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance. The cloud clears as you enter it. I have learned this, but like everyone, I learned it late."

Totally random find in Laramie, WY: super kitschy independent motel, old-school saloon style!

Crazy western-inspired decor everywhere!

The covered seasonal pool was closed, but this non-hibernating bear was guarding the "Wyoming Watering Hole" anyway!

Tatanka! (American bison on Lakota language)

On the motel roof: a rooster, a horse, and a bandit with binoculars. Don't ask. I didn't.

And this lovely painting of wolves watched over me at night (literally: hanging over the bed's headboard)!

I ended the day thinking about time and distance and speed, thankful for cruise control and wiper blades and window wiper fluid, and for courteous truck drivers who flash their headlights when it is safe to pass in front of them. I am thankful for mostly clear, dry weather and mostly clear, dry roads, and I seem to be successfully staying ahead of the snow and foul weather. I am thankful for life and all its changes and some of its permanence too. Somewhere in a 75 MPH zone on the freeway, continuing my drive east mostly during the day after my fast departure from San Francisco, I learned Beryl Markham's lesson too, perhaps not too late in my life, and happily moving forward.

Good night, from Room 30 of the Gas Lite Motel in Laramie, WY!

Day 2 Fact File:
Starting Mileage: 79,540
Average Miles Per Gallon: 27.88
Visible Roadkills: 4 (including one with very persistent crows)
"Oversize Load" or "Long Load" Trucks: 14
Places Passed: Moor, NV; Shafter, NV; Wendover, UT; Rusty Palm, UT;
Elevations: Pequop Summit, NV (6,967 feet); Silver Zone Pass, NV (5,940 feet); Summit, UT (7,800 feet); Continental Divide, WY (6,930 feet)
Soundtrack: "GLEE: The Music, Volume 4, Season Two;" Robbie Williams, "In And Out Of Consciousness, Greatest Hits 1990-2010" (deluxe limited edition 3-disc set); Below Zero (Various Artists), “Minus 1;” Boyzone, “Brother;” Thomas Anders, “Strong;” Matthew Sweet & Susanna Hoffs, “Under The Covers, Volume 1;” David Campbell, "On Broadway;" Jason Gray, “Everything Sad Is Coming Untrue” (deluxe edition).

Means and Ways: The SFO > STL Roadtrip Move, Day 1

Well, today was the big day: goodbye to more than ten years in San Francisco, CA and hello eastward highways, bound for St. Louis, MO. So many things seemed fitting to start out on December 1 (aside from my being expected at work in just 5 days): first day of a new month, first day of Hanukkah, 55th Anniversary of Rosa Parks refusing to move seats on that bus, and here I was - on the move. It was bittersweet to pass through Davis, CA, home of my first post-master's degree job and hard for me to believe that was over 17 years ago. As I continued over the Sierra Nevada mountains and crested over the Donner Summit, I was reminded of a small play I helped direct for a community theater group in San Francisco that I first got involved with over 8 years ago. I thought about the tragic fate of that group of westward pioneers over 160 years ago: surely my fortune will turn in a decidedly far more favorable way as I traversed their passage in the opposite direction. It's impossible to know that future for sure, but this first day of the move did give me some insights to new meanings in my life that kept me company along the way:

• "Goodbye" does not mean "forever"
• "Departure" can include a future return "arrival"
• And perhaps most importantly (for a solo driver on a long roadtrip): moving forward demands that you can not look back. Sure, you might miss some sights around you with only occasional glances away from the road in front, but the only safe, sensible, smart way to move ahead is to keep looking up and out.

Leaving the San Francisco Bay on the San Rafael Bridge

Changing Landscape: I-80 East (CA)

Changing Landscape: I-80 East (CA)

Changing Landscape: I-80 East (NV)

 Day 1 Seen Scenes:

• Crows flying low just over the vehicles on the road; Black vultures climbing high on morning thermals
• Skies that changed from watercolored cornflower blue to brilliantly sunlit sapphire blue
• Telephone poles seemingly stripped bare in the mountain winds, contrasted by living pines with limbs loaded full of snow
• Jet contrails like wispy clouds in the skies overhead, and snowmelt mist kicked up by passing vehicles on the ground below
• Ironic scenes throughout Nevada (see below)
• Northern Nevada desert landscape matched with emotionally bleak and desolate roadsigns like "[insert name of place]: No Services" or "Prison Area: Hitchhiking Prohibited"
• Snowpacked motel parking lots (thank you for my new all-weather tires, San Francisco Honda) where my car is the only vehicle that is not an SUV or a pick-up truck (scary)
• Camouflage-wearing motel room guests next door frying up dinner on the tail of their pick-up truck inviting me to join them ("Aw, sweet: how cordial of you.") for "Hibachi venison and salmon" they just caught from the river ("Oh, gee, look at the time...")
• Breakfast for dinner (good) at an all-night diner (very good) which is actually the restaurant inside a casino (bad) where the first slot machines by the entrance are themed to "Jersey Shore" and "Girls Girls Girls" (yuck, and double-yuck), but the dining area was a no-smoking zone (phew) and at least there was a vegetarian omelette which of course had to be named on the menu as the "California Omelette" (nonplussed)

Snow covered evergreens in the Sierra Nevadas

Donner Lake, CA

Note to Alanis Morrissette #1: Forget the black fly in my chardonnay; if this is the only interesting sight at the Boomtown, NV "Scenic View" turnoff, that's actually ironic.

Note to Alanis Morrissette #2: Keep the 10,000 spoons and the one knife: can you explain why markers for the California Trail are all over...Nevada?

Clouds or Passing Airplanes over Nevada?

"It's in the trees!" No, Kate Bush, those are not "Hounds Of Love," just cows.

Light and Cloud Cover changing quickly

Nevada Skies: all kinds of blue

So here I am blogging from a thankfully warm room in a Super 8 motel in Wells, NV because I decided to stop when it got dark and rest for the day instead of pushing too hard and driving to a destination in the dark. So believe it or not, this Myers-Briggs "J" might be making this roadtrip with intermediate destinations unknown and unplanned! (Cue "Freedom" by George Michael, please!)

"Watch for Snow Removal Equipment:" Where? Anywhere? Everywhere? Scary!

"Reduce Speed When Wet:" Good words to live by! Or not?

Dear Nevada: Couldn't you blast more tunnels through mountains instead of just this one so I didn't have to drive all the way around so many?

The only safe way to look back: Pink sunset in Nevada

Day 1 Fact File:
Starting Mileage: 78,979
Average Miles Per Gallon: 29.20
Visible Roadkills: 5
"Oversize Load" or "Long Load" Trucks: 8
Places Passed: Sausalito, CA; San Rafael, CA; Richmond, CA; Pinole, CA; Vacaville, CA; Davis, CA; Sacramento, CA; Colfax, CA; Truckee/Lake Tahoe, CA; Boomtown, NV; Mogul, NV; Reno, NV; Lovelock, NV; Humboldt River, NV; Valmy, NV; Battle Mountain, NV; Elko, NV.
Highest Elevation: 7,227 feet (Donner Summit, CA)
Soundtrack: "GLEE: The Music, The Christmas Album;" "GLEE: The Music, Volume 4, Season Two;" "Cavalia;" Adam Pascal & Larry Edoff, "Blinding Light;" Larry Edoff, "Duende;" Robbie Williams, "In And Out Of Consciousness, Greatest Hits 1990-2010" (deluxe limited edition 3-disc set).

Finally, speaking of my journey's soundtrack, this is a reflection inspired by one of the first towns I drove past after crossing the border from California, into Nevada:

Verdi, NV

Lyrics from Verdi Cries
(by 10,000 Maniacs, lyrics by Natalie Merchant)

...Holidays must end as you know / All is memory / Taken home with me...

That's the start of the final stanza of one of my all-time favorite sweetly sentimental and poetic ballads. Although the last several months of my unemployed job search days were not really holidays, I did try to work hard and play happily each day. Soon life will change again... Another day towards my new home begins tomorrow; with a heart full of memories that I am taking with me, for now it's good night.

From Wells, NV,
The Man in 117 (not "the man in 119" from Verdi Cries, if you know the start of that song; and if you don't, follow the link above for a video of Natalie Merchant performing it beautifully)

It's Only Stuff (The Big Move, Prep Day #2)

Well, today was my final day of bittersweet preparations for the move to St. Louis, MO. The movers came and took away (almost) all of my personal belongings, to be held in a secure space in San Jose until I give them a permanent delivery address in the Central Time Zone. When a dear friend of mine moved several months ago, he put his stuff into storage and told me he got sad seeing it all locked up like that. And I admit that as the movers secured the last box into place on the truck, I actually said, "Bye, bye, stuff" and waved goodbye. But then the foreman said, "No, it's not goodbye. We'll take good care of your stuff and you'll see it all soon."

So as much as this has been an emotional and joyride of a transition period in my life, and as much as I may not wholeheartedly embrace the consumerism culture that I acknowledge I am a part of, it took that moment for me to make a new shift in perspective: all of my stuff is only stuff. Here I was spending my day running final errands and making sure my stuff would be kept safe, that some of my stuff would ship out ahead of me (into the receiving care of another friend in St. Louis), and then I carefully packed the car so that there will be as little as possible visible in the car along the way (and I will only need to grab a backpack with the precious technology stuff in it when I stop along the way). And now here I am on the eve of my move, realizing that all that fuss was just over stuff. Yes, some of the data might be painful to lose in the hardware. Yes, I would hate to arrive in St. Louis and not have appropriate work clothes with me. Yes, it will be comfortable to make this roadtrip with snacks in the front seat and music playing in the car.

But more important than any of that will be the sights I see along the way, the people I may meet in this strangely rushed travel, the memories I will always have in my heart, the incredibly significant friends and acquaintances that have gathered in my life along this journey and all others. There's no way to pack, box, or ship that kind of stuff. And that's the stuff that really matters. So yes, I said goodbye to the material stuff. And I'll be happy to have it all back some day (soon). It's all of that other "stuff" that I am so happy I do not have to depart with and bid "auf wiedersehen" to that is charging my heart and mind and soul right now.

My now vacated and closed storage unit.

So thank you, Storage Unit #3053 for being the safe repository of my stuff these last four months. But to an entire universe of happiness, of possibilities, of lessons, of established histories, of wild identities, of imagined futures, of genuine possibilities, I am even more thankful for the stuff that lies in the repository of my soul: all the good stuff that is coming along with me on this life journey.

Hitting the road in the morning...good night!

Everything Is Everything (The Big Move, Prep Day #1)

As the end of November 2010 draws to its end, so does my time in San Francisco, CA, my home of the last 10+ years. I'm moving to St. Louis, MO in just under two days for a great job, following a hard-to-believe timeline. Friends, relatives, colleagues, and even mere acquaintances have been so kind to wish me well and congratulate me and hope the best for me in this new part of my life.

No escape from Alcatraz: just moving away from San Francisco (for now).

Golden Gate Bridge (from Marina Green).

Golden Gate Bridge (from Crissy Field)

Today I did a lot of pre-packing, laundry, errands, shopping, and tried to smile through a mix of emotions. I even took a lunch break at the Nieman Marcus Rotunda, with a straight-lone view of the top of that store's Christmas tree.

Lunch break at Nieman Marcus.

 
It's hard for me not to get emotional about this move, especially in the midst of holiday activity, and I know that it's normal to feel so much so deeply if one is leaving one's home of so many years. I regret that I have not had time for so many personal goodbyes, but I have been overwhelmed by every act of kindness I have witnessed in this time of transition. I would like to share some of these affirmations here:

"Happiness is inevitable. Enjoy the life you create for yourself." - NB

"I wish you unending success and fulfillment with your new adventure! ...May the wind be at your back, and the road rise to meet you." - ML

 "I'm very proud of you - from one of your biggest fans!" - RR

 "Wow. That is how we do it!" MGA

I often wondered how everyone could be so happy for me when I myself was alternately excited and sad about the move. You've probably heard as often as I have the saying, "Everything happens for a reason." Well, usually I hear that sentence spoken in sad times, as a way of acknowledging the negative emotion and trying to spin it on its head with an acceptance of some other omniscient inevitability. But this afternoon in between Task #17 and Task #18 on my preparation list, it hit me: if everything happens for a reason, then that includes "everything." So my entire life has prepared me for this move, just like it had prepared me for my unemployment before that; and my Ed.D. graduation before that; and every other professional challenge, educational success, friendly joy, broken heart, sorrowful tear, and genuine smile before that. So in the midst of all these emotions and thoughts that come with change, I felt myself starting to embrace not just this move, but all of my life. Because this move isn't just a new job in a new place at a new part of my life: it's just (quite simply and quite naturally) the very latest addition of everything to everything.

Golden Gate Bridge, in all its art deco grandeur.

So thank you, San Francisco, for the last 10 years of everything. It will be hard to leave you, but that will make future returns and reunions all the more special. Back to that task list...awaiting more of everything.

My So-Called Temporary Life of Adventure

This is a long overdue post, so I hope I can make up for all the lost time. With the exception of a movie review, I haven't posted any real "life lessons" since August. When my job was cut at the end of July, I entered a new phase of my life: my full-time job became job searching. I moved into a sublet. I boxed up my belongings and left them in storage. And I have to admit that the first two weeks of that life had me emotionally wrecked: I was in a bad way. Really bad ups and downs and a lot of tears and even more anxiety. But I allowed myself to grieve what was once familiar and moved on, and I have to say that I have grown to love and embrace this time of transition.

If you know my admittedly nerdy fascination with epidemiology, then it should not surprise you that one of the books I salvaged from the bedside reading pile before everything went into storage was a non-fiction collection of stories by Richard Preston (perhaps best known for the brilliant book "The Hot Zone"), titled "Panic In Level 4." In this collection, Preston capably displays science reportage at its best: telling tales of virus hunters, super-computers and the number pi, threats to forest ecology, and even a rare genetic disorder that causes the most horrific and bizarre form of self-mutilation. (Fans of critical hermeneutics may even appreciate his notes in the introduction chapter about his way and method of nonfiction writing - he is a master at using details of a story to humanize science.) In one of his stories, he defines the concept of an "ecotones:" the biological environment that is the transition area between two other environments. Ecotones are the boundary points between two ecosystems like the boundaries between forests and grasslands or between rocky cliffs and ocean seashores. It turns out that life thrives in ecotones: they are where species and climates and feeding zones bump up against each other and allow for tremendous biological activity.

"Panic In Level 4," by Richard Preston

So I began to think of my new life of temporary unemployment as my own ecotone: I was living my life on the edge between 10 years of the familiar working life in San Francisco and some other new chapter that was yet to unfold. I filled my days with job search tasks: online searches, online applications, even some cold calls and classified ad responses. I applied to education, non-profit, and for-profit jobs. And I tried to stay patient though the "hurry up...and wait" application/screening processes. Sometimes I would reward myself with a movie or a short road trip or a theater outing. I made finding cheap eats in San Francisco a game to fit into my budget. When I changed my perspective and took comfort in the security of my careful advance planning and found confidence in my own skills, abilities, personality, and personhood, I was able to appreciate brand new lessons in life all around me. Lessons like:

• It's perfectly OK to voluntarily disconnect from all technology even though it is still frustrating when technology is turned off inconveniently for you, without warning.
• Living with roommates (something I have not done since 1989) can be great if you are lucky enough to not only have people who share a home space with you, but who really form a community. (Thank you, Guys of 105 Noe!)
• When everyone else is rushing around, routine tasks like grocery shopping and commuting on public transportation become full of the tiniest surprises: finding a perfect bunch of bananas that everyone else has overlooked under the unripe ones, or seeing human and animal faces in the details of building architecture that nobody else sees because not only are they not looking up and around, but they are burying their gazes into cell phones or refusing to look around at their world.
• Silencing the world with a wall of sound wile working on a task is still not as much fun as hearing one person laughing without restraint.
• Living without TV forces one to be a more discerning consumer about which half-hours and hours are actually worth the streaming time the next day. (Yes, my list would include "Glee.")
• Cooking and eating meals is a privilege to really appreciate how much you have and how much the world can provide.
• Having a good spirit makes a person truly attractive.
• There is no end to exploring the city you live in, when you are free from the limits of your home and work neighborhoods only.
• There is a variety of true friendships: some are more helpful than others, some more funny than others, some are more work than others, but all are pretty life-affirming.

And through it all, whenever anyone asked me (with all the best intentions) how I was doing, I was able to say I was happy. I tried to eat well, live lean, stay healthy, go for walks and practice yoga, stay informed about current events and popular culture, and I have been lucky to be surrounded by and supported by new and old friends from near and far. After that rough patch of emotions that I had to face as I entered this ecotone in my life, I really thrived in my own boundary zone, knowing that this is all a horizon to something else that will happen in my life. One of the shows I got to see during this temporary time was "West Side Story" and Stephen Sondheim's lyrics took on a whole new meaning for me:

Could be!
Who knows?
There's something due any day;
I will know right away,
Soon as it shows.
It may come cannonballing down through the sky,
Gleam in its eye,
Bright as a rose!

Who knows?
It's only just out of reach,
Down the block, on a beach,
Under a tree.
I got a feeling there's a miracle due,
Gonna come true,
Coming to me!

Could it be? Yes, it could.
Something's coming, something good,
If I can wait!
Something's coming, I don't know what it is,
But it is
Gonna be great!

With a click, with a shock,
Phone'll jingle, door'll knock,
Open the latch!
Something's coming, don't know when, but it's soon;
Catch the moon,
One-handed catch!

Around the corner,
Or whistling down the river,
Come on, deliver
To me!
Will it be? Yes, it will.
Maybe just by holding still,
It'll be there!

Come on, something, come on in, don't be shy,
Meet a guy,
Pull up a chair!
The air is humming,
And something great is coming!
Who knows?
It's only just out of reach,
Down the block, on a beach,
Maybe tonight . . .

It's been a good ecotone life for me: temporarily living on the boundary between a good past and a good future. So I can't complain about that at all. ...But I guess I should have been blogging about it more!

Movie Review: "Monsters" (2010)

For some time now, I have been intrigued by the trailer to this movie and some of the advance press that included this plot synopsis: "Six years after Earth has suffered an alien invasion a cynical journalist agrees to escort a shaken American tourist through an infected zone in Mexico to the safety of the US border." It seemed more mysterious than outright scary (despite the title that a 'fraidy cat like me usually shies away from), and I was also fascinated to see how a science fiction alien invasion story could be told by what I assumed would be a small cast (and the end credits bore this out: two virtual unknowns with a lot of TV credits, directed by the man who also wrote it, did the the visual effects, did the production design, and did the cinematography).

Last year's "District 9" wowed a lot of people (to the point that it nabbed some Academy Award accolades) because it had dazzling special effects that were highly convincing and it felt like a familiar big budget Hollywood movie with weapons, explosions, and a surprisingly unknown cast. But it also did what any great science fiction story does: it uses the metaphors allowed within the imagined parameters of science fiction to explore truths about our own real humanity. In the case of "District 9" those themes included immigration, isolationism, xenophobia, home, family, and identity. (Much like successful vampire stories typically explore the question of what good can come from someone's (eternal) life, and successful zombie stories explore the question of what really defines the human (versus the non-human) experience.)

Well, "Monsters" is no "District 9," but I did enjoy it, maybe even more because it caught me off-guard (several times). The intimacy of the small cast allowed the metaphoric sci-fi explorations to unfold in the context of a "ships passing in the night" romance. Except that these ships were also passing through a Mexico/U.S. borderland of extraterrestrial invasion as well. (Expect Internet searches for Scoot McNairy and Whitney Able (the actors) and Gareth Edwards (the director and other production credits) to markedly increase with this movie and what might be its greater DVD release success). There are very few scary jolts or bombastic explosive scenes, but there are some very nice visuals and visual effects (makes sense if the movie is directed by the man also calling the shots for the camera work and special effects). The intentionality of situating this story as passage (escape?) from Mexico into the United States (home?) carries an intelligent subtlety that holds the subcontext questions: what is alien to us and how do we deal with what is foreign? Of course the movie shows the reality of a highly militarized reaction but it also offers glimpses of hope for wistful diplomacy or trans-species understanding. The straining love story adds a layer of emotion to this movie that makes it much more atmospheric and evocative than your usual sci-fi shoot-em-up. Visual choices like the location shots in Galveston, TX make the "disaster/evacuation zone" feeling quite real. In its pacing, the movie feels more like an independent romance than a sci-fi movie: there are quite a few smart gems of dialogue and single lines that surprise throughout the journey.

This movie ultimately makes a statement that turns the tables on how we might define "extraterrestrial" and "intelligence" in our solar system. Maybe it has to do with what all star-crossed lovers struggle with: a search for genuine connection in a lonely universe. For me, a matinee well spent.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1470827/