As long as I'm asking all of you what you are doing, it is only fair to update you on the last couple months of my life.
In mid-September I Craigslisted my way down to visit Ben and Elana in Berkeley. Besides catching up and hanging out with this much-missed pair, notable events include seeing several plays, attending a class of Ben's, and going to church. (Now that I'm back in Colorado Springs I'm struck by how much more tolerant I am of religion than when I last lived here, in large part due to meeting intelligent and tolerant religious people, first and foremost Ben.) Three of the four plays I saw were excellent, and one is worth discussing in detail. Ben, Elana, and I met up with Mark, Ginger, and Amory to see a production of MacBeth (sorry theatre people, I'm not superstitious, so I won't be eumphamistic) that is probably the finest piece of theatre I have ever witnessed. It took place in Fort Point, below the Golden Gate Bridge on a windy night with the ocean audibly pounding against the shore. The actors moved through the crowd, including us at times, such as the banquet scene where the actors pushed the feasting audience out of the way to talk to each other. One of my favorite moments was when the witches used bibliomancy, letting the wind blow the pages of a book for a few seconds before slamming down a peice of bone and reading the page that was chosen by fate. The play ended on the roof of the three story building, from which we had a spectacular view of the city across the bay below a full moon. Afterward I went with Amory and Ginger, who managed to light some lanterns in the wind, and eventually we celebrated the full moon with moon cakes and more lanterns in Oakland.
Oh, the other major event to occur while I was in Berkeley was that one of my absolute favorite authors, David Foster Wallace, killed himself. I read everything he ever published this last summer. He was one of the most insightful people I have ever read, and so I am saddened but not surprised that he found the world unbearable. This is especially so in light of his insights into depression, which were far too accurate and poignent to have been gained second hand.
After five days in the bay area I took the Craigslist express down to Pasadena to stay with my aunt, uncle and young cousins. My uncle was in the process of overseeing the editing of a short film he financed, produced, and directed, and which is actually very funny and well done. It may be picked up as a full length film or a TV series, so if you ever see something called The Breakup Guy you should check it out. My aunt and I volunteered some for Obama, and I spend most of my time obsessing over politics and watching movies. (Warning, a rant on the election is probably forthcoming [Obviously I'm a fan of parentheticals. I hope that doesn't end up being too distracting. What can I say, I'm a fan of David Foster Wallace, so you're lucky my posts aren't littered with footnotes as well]). While in the LA area I also caught up with a friend from highschool who is working on a ranch where they train animals for movies, combining her two passions of film and equestrian programs. While there I fed baby zebra, buffalo, and camels (one and two humped).
Eventually, after an enjoyable visit I took another craigslist ride share to Grand Junction, CO. People keep asking me about the craigslist experience, and in particular always ask if I felt safe. In short, yes. All three of my rides were offered by young women (aged 21-30), so I thought it was funny that the decent sized guy with a beard was the one people worried about (granted, it was my family that was doing the worrying). I like to point out that if the driver invites two other people who don't know each other in advance, then the odds of us both being crazy, and crazy in the same way, is highly unlikely, so rideshares are pretty safe. I also managed to end up with people who were all at least moderately interesting and none of whom were annoying. My last ride actually is also going to teach English in Korea. Small world.
Anyway, my maternal grandparents live in Grand Junction. I visited with them, and did a lot of chores that are difficult when you are under 5'7" and over 80 years old. (I am making a conscious effort to visit my relatives, and especially the older ones, before I leave. My grandfather is turning 87 this week, and I may be gone for as long as five years. It is strange to think about, especially since no one close to me has died [my paternal grandfather died well before I was born]. For that matter, my dad will be 54 in a couple months, which is much older than his father lived to be. I have no idea how I will react to the deaths that will surely occur in my family in my lifetime, assuming I don't end up dying first by doing something stupid in Asia [no Dan, we can't climb Everest {...but maybe a smaller Himilaya...}]) In Grand Junction I also met up with my paternal aunt and uncle (my dad and his brother are named Rock and Clay, by the way). They were stopping by their home in Colorado after returning from six months in Alaska and a couple weeks llama packing in the Rockies. They have since left again to go travel in India, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, Taiwan, and to visit friends in Stockholm, Sweeden. They are very much inspirations to me. They've been traveling thier whole lives, and being over 60 hasn't slowed them down at all. They introduced me to their latest toy, a laptop that only weighs two pounds and is small enough and durable enough to take backpacking. I expect to be blogging with one during my trans-Asian trek.
After a week with my grandparents I took the train to Denver, and stayed a couple nights with yet another aunt and uncle there. The train ride through the mountains is rather pretty, though very long. After that I finally went to my parents' house in Colorado Springs. Once here I applied to teach in Korea, then volunteered for the Obama campaign. A week ago my mom put new carpet in her bookstore, which involves packing up 70,000-ish books, putting them in a shipping container, moving all of the shelves, waiting for half the carpet to get done, then moving the shelves to the other half of the building, waiting for the rest of the carpet, moving the shelves to their original positions, unloading the books, and re-alphabetizing them. So, fun times. As soon as the heaviest labor was done, I started volunteering for Obama full time. In the last five days of the election I knocked on over 1000 doors. On Halloween I went trick or voting as an Obama yard sign. It was encouraging to see so many people support Obama in the fundamentalist christian hellhole that is Colorado Springs. In the end, my county went 40% Obama, which was precisely our goal. Mark's Uncle, Hal Bidlack, was running for the house seat in my district, but sadly lost badly. Otherwise, Colorado didn't fuck up (we went for Obama, Democratic Senator Mark Udall, and defeated an attempt to amend the constitution so that life is defined as the moment of conception [and by we I mean the people around me. I voted in Oregon, a decision vindicated by the fact that the Merkeley-Smith race was a lot closer than any race in CO, plus the fact that voting in Oregon is fun: you vote for the better candidate rather than the least bad one]. Also, the house seat of Tom "I want to end all legal immigration" Tancredo from the republican primary went to a Democrat).
Since then, I've mostly been savoring (most of) the election results and helping with the alphabetizing effort at the bookstore. Oh, and finishing my application process for going to Korea.
