New Spectrum

Outsourcing My Way to a Better Life

2010-05-23T10:55:00.008-06:00

About a year ago I read two books that have stayed with me. Though neither was literary or particularly creative in style (usually big draws for me), their messages have had lasting impacts. One book was The 4-Hour Workweek, by Tim Ferriss. The other was How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read, by Pierre Bayard.

The push of The 4-Hour Workweek was how to delegate and outsource the details of your life so you can spend more time, well...living. The author left out nothing: Everything from mowing your lawn, to managing your email, to creating automated income for yourself, to collecting and synthesizing information should, according to Ferriss, be systematized and then delegated to other people. It was a book remarkable in its simplicity and execution. And to anyone who can actually pull off everything Ferriss suggests, you are my hero.

The main message of How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read was similar: Let other people do your reading for you. As someone who loves to read, I was intrigued (and perhaps a little troubled) by Bayard's recommendation. But as I read the book, I quickly discovered that the author was NOT suggesting that you don't read, but that because it is impossible to read everything, it becomes imperative that you leverage your network to become better read and informed about what matters to you.

What was most striking to me about both books is that though the authors appeared to shun work (at least on the surface), what they were really going for was capacity building. And to build capacity, one must have solid, well-articulated, and healthy relationships with other people. There is no way one could do what Ferriss and Bayard suggest without good relationships.

I sometimes get sidetracked by personal progress and achievements, but really what matters most to me in this life are relationships. In my moments of clarity, everything else becomes incidental. For me, those two books were evidence that I'm on the right track.

I Chose Death

2010-04-08T11:14:00.008-06:00

The Death Card

I had an interesting experience last night with my deck of tarot cards. I had just attended a presentation by Phil Powers at the American Mountaineering Museum. Phil's presentation was about his life during the time he was climbing some of the world's most challenging and dangerous mountains. Phil discussed not only his climbing adventures, but how those adventures affected and altered his perceptions of his own life. It was quite powerful.

When I got home, I thought about what Phil had shared. As I was doing so, I picked up my deck of tarot cards. I like tarot as a tool for meditation and introspection. It helps me to think creatively about problems and opportunities. The cards are often startlingly accurate in the way that they deal out and what they tell me. Tarot creeps me out, but it's part of what I like about it.

As I shuffled the cards, I asked the tarot, "OK, Tarot, if you're going to tell me one thing tonight, what is it? Lay it on me, baby." I picked one card. That card was "Death."

Of the 78 cards in the tarot deck, Death is the most loaded. Death is described as "a major transformation," which can mean a lot of things. Actual death is only one of the interpretations.

It was funny, because just before I pulled the card, I had wondered if I was going to choose Death. Strange thing, that tarot is.

The card resonated with me because I feel like I AM going through a major transformation. Specifically, letting go of fear. For a number of reasons, fear is becoming less and less of an issue in my life. I'm much more adept (and happier) than I used to be about taking risks.

There are a number of things in my life that could very easily blow up in my face right now. I've deliberately taken some big chances. But I'm at complete peace with whatever happens as a result. I just want to live. And if living means getting my brains splattered across the front of a bus or at the bottom of a crag, I'm OK with that.

That doesn't mean I'm not careful about what I do, because I am. It just means that I'm ready to take on whatever life brings. I cannot tell you what a wonderful feeling that is.

I'm not sure I would have really heard Phil's meaning if I was not in this place in my life. True awareness is beautiful. I seek it out more and more every day.

Wants and Lifestyles

2010-04-02T10:50:00.004-06:00

I've found it curious that a few people have asked me recently about why I want certain things. Things I've talked about on my blog and on Facebook. Stuff that smacks of mid-life crisis. Stuff like Corvettes, motorcycles, and climbing.

Perhaps no one really cares, but I'll try to explain. I've come to a point in my life in which I've realized that life shouldn't be boring. A gentleman who frequents the library once described a climbing route to me as "like life: Exciting in the beginning, boring in the middle, and scary at the end." His comment made me laugh, but I also found something troubling in what he said. That I didn't want my own life to follow the course of that climbing route.

For a long time, my own progress through life was hampered by various factors. But in spite of them, I managed to build a satisfying career, own a beautiful house, maintain my health, marry a remarkable woman, and developed some of the best friendships I could ever hope for.

But I'm not ready to settle down. In fact, I feel the years peeling off me. I feel younger and younger.

So, I want some exciting stuff! Is that so bad? Some people want children, I want hot rods and to hang from 200-foot cliffs. Does that mean I'm superficial and lack depth? No, people. I just want some zip in my life, OK? I'm cutting loose, so lay off.

What I will tell you is that I don't personally subscribe to the lifestyles that often accompany the things I want. Do I want a powerful Corvette to see how many gears I can get rubber in and to push the car to its limits? Absolutely. Am I going to join a car club or hang posters in my office of women draped over exotic cars? Hell no. Do I want to ride a wheelie on a crotch rocket at 60mph? You bet. Am I going to hang out with my biking buddies at the bar in our leathers? Nope.

I don't have anything at all against those other lifestyles. It's just that they're not for me.

I love my quiet life; I love my books, I love birds and nature, and I love all that I've ever loved. I just want to add a bit of ruckus to my everyday living. A little noise and chaos makes those quiet moments even richer. That's all.

Does that help?

Since Yesterday

2010-03-15T10:20:00.003-06:00

I went for a run. My hands got cold.

Discovered that I want a motorcycle.

Became more married to my work. I love it, but I need to keep a balance with Erin and the rest of my life.

Felt good.

Ice!

2010-03-08T09:40:00.007-07:00

Me on "Mickey's Big Mouth," a Grade II waterfall ice formation

I went out with some friends (including Bill) yesterday to do some ice climbing in Clear Creek Canyon. We had an awesome time! Check out my photo album on Facebook.

A New World

2010-03-06T21:25:00.005-07:00

Yesterday, I went to an continuing education seminar in downtown Denver. It was one of the best I had ever attended; not because the content was excellent (it wasn't), but because how well the seminar integrated technology. It was the first time I was in a classroom setting and wished I had more than just my pen and paper. In fact, I felt silly for not having my laptop with me.

There was free WiFi everywhere. And it was fast WiFi, even with 200 people logged on. A backchannel had been set up for the conference and I saw people using it to ask panelists questions. People were tweeting their notes, sharing content on Google docs, and checking their email during the seminar's slow points. I saw people networking and meeting each other while the seminar was going on. There was so much energy going on online! I desperately wished I had my laptop with me.

I thought I could catch up on the conference's online fun once I got back to the office, but by then my buzz had worn off. So had everyone else's, it seems. It was all over by then. It was a classic example of "you just had to be there."

I love the age we live in. I love how much easier it is to meet people with my specific interests. I love how much smaller the world seems because of technology, at least in some respects.

Next time I'll bring my laptop.

A Different Way of Thinking

2010-03-03T12:59:00.002-07:00

Just wanted to briefly tag onto my last post about goals, personal mission statements, etc. In some of my work reading, I stumbled upon a blog about "futures" methodology. As I understand it, "futures thinking" forces us to really pull away from our natural inclination to plan for the future by using our past as a guide.

Futures thinking implies that because our past is limited in scope, time, and often colored by our own bad experiences, using the past to plan for the future can prove to be a severe liability. Theoretically, futures thinking helps you to clearly envision the success you would like to achieve, rather than limiting yourself to the choices you think you have or believe you are stuck with.

It's an interesting idea. Take a look at this. I found it helpful and hopeful.

Last Weekend

2010-03-02T10:40:00.008-07:00

On Sunday, Erin and I found ourselves in a bit of a funk. Both of us have lots going on, but have found that our capacity for getting things done has diminished as of late.

So we stopped what we were doing and talked about our shared problem for over an hour. Both of us are big fans of Stephen Covey and his book First Things First changed our lives when we both read it about fifteen years ago. Though I'm less familiar with his book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, I have a one-page photocopy taped to the wall at my desk that contains a summary of the Seven Habits (I can't find that same summary online, but here's a good substitute). Habit #2 is "Begin With the End in Mind." As Erin and I were talking on Sunday, it was in Habit #2 that I detected a problem for both of us. Basically, neither of us were doing Habit #2.

Habit #2 demands that you know where you're going with your life. Your life could well be filled up with all kinds of great things, but if you don't know where you're ultimately going, all of that stuff could simply be eating up your time and not fulfilling your central life goals. I believe that we need goals to have good mental health. Without good mental health, we cannot find happiness.

We realized that each of us needed a new personal mission statement so we could get back on track with Habit #2. Our theory is that if we could each develop a personal mission statement that gets us excited to work on every day, our capacity for getting things done will increase. And we'll focus on the right things without getting mired in too many unimportant distractions.

So, we've bought Covey's new audiobook How to Develop a Personal Mission Statement to get started. I'll blog about my own progress on this project as time goes on.

On My Walk

2010-02-28T20:57:00.004-07:00

I saw,
cracked asphalt
shortgrass prairie
slanted sunlight
melting ice.

I heard,
a blue jay
distant traffic
a laugh
my footsteps.

I felt,
my wife's hand
melancholy
hope
love.

...And We're Back!

2010-02-26T16:44:00.002-07:00

I've met two people this month who have changed my mind about having a personal blog. One is Kristin Mastre, who runs the food critic blog Feasting Fort Collins. She also has a personal blog called Tall Oaks from Little Acorns Grow. The other person is a colleague of mine and I have had several long conversations with her about personal blogging.

Both women are marvelous writers and the content on their blogs is simply outstanding. Though it was not their intention, my new friends convinced me that having a personal blog is worthwhile. Relationships are important to me and while I have my professional blog, I've decided that my friends and family will get to know me best through my personal thoughts. It's the most fun kind of blogging, anyway.

So, here's to a new start. Thank you to my new friends!

Farewell, New Spectrum

2009-04-10T12:48:00.002-06:00

Effective today, this blog has become a digital time capsule. Go here to learn why.

A Glimpse

2009-03-04T22:33:00.006-07:00

There's a street on the edge of town that I go to sometimes. The street truncates suddenly - within a few feet the asphalt turns into gravel, then sand, to finally the rabbitbrush that composes most of the prairie that stretches beyond. It's a lonely place in some ways, but on warm sunny days there are few places I'd rather be.

As I stand here a breeze wraps around me. I feel the sun on my face. Sometimes my heart will open for just a moment. That's when I might notice.

Happiness.

Let's Talk About Me

2009-01-31T23:25:00.009-07:00

I've been tagged on the "25 Random Things About Me" exercise several times, so here goes:

1. I like playing Scrabble and poker, though I'm not much good at either.

2. I have had stitches twice and a broken bone once.

3. I am fascinated by the squirrels in our yard. Their dexterity in managing fence rails, telephone wires, and tree branches is just astounding.

4. I broke the school record for cross country when I was in high school.

5. I ran 13 miles from Manitou Springs to the top of Pikes Peak without training for it. Not recommended (not training for it, that is. The climb is spectacular).

6. I could easily live on cereal, plain pasta, red bell peppers, provolone cheese, steamed broccoli, coffee, lunch meat, root beer floats, potato chips, and white wine. Oh, and water.

7. Erin is my best friend.

8. My favorite short story is James Joyce's "Araby." I must have had a similar experience once.

9. Nearly all my friends are women, which I think is great.

10. The best driving song ever is Jimi Hendrix's version of "Drivin' South." Apropos, indeed.

11. I've always wanted a 1967 Corvette. It needs to have a very specific options package, so please ask before you go out and buy this car for me. This is exactly what I'm looking for.

12. I haven't watched a single professional sports event since John Elway retired ten years ago. Can't say I've missed any of it.

13. One dream I have is to walk alone for a week across the Mojave Desert. Not during the summer, of course.

14. I cannot handle watching the roller coaster on top of the Stratosphere in Las Vegas.

15. I drive the same way to work every day.

16. I love the prairie.

17. I love the fish tanks at a nearby sushi bar.

18. I didn't see the ocean until I was 40 years old.

19. I am interested in design of all types and how it affects our attraction (or not) to certain things.

20. Being married has been the hardest thing I've ever done, but it has also been my greatest source of happiness.

21. My color blindness doesn't affect my enjoyment of color.

22. I'll take doing laundry over cooking any day.

23. I like life's ambiguity.

24. I have been among the top 300 finishers in all six years I ran the Bolder Boulder (running has obviously played a major role in my life).

25. Nothing feels better than a big, genuine laugh.

There, got 'er done.

Buckfifty.org

2009-01-28T17:01:00.002-07:00

For those who don't know, Denver quietly turned 150 last November. To celebrate the city's sesquicentennial, Hugh Graham, Hadley Hooper, and a few other creative folks have put together a really fun website called buckfifty.org. For the past few months, locals (and not-so-locals) have submitted interesting pieces about the city's history, personal memories, and other bits that paint a human picture of the town so many of us love.

Today's buckfifty post is one I wrote about Zeckendorf Plaza, a wonderful public space that once existed downtown, but is no longer. Many thanks to Hugh and Hadley for finding some marvelous images of Zeckendorf and posting them on the site. I love the one that shows the miniature golf course.

And there's a mention of my post on Westword's blog The Latest Word. How cool is that!?

Twenty-oh-Nine

2009-01-11T23:32:00.004-07:00

It's a new year and it's time to set some goals (which are not to be confused with new year resolutions - something I realized the futility of long ago and therefore don't do). This is purely off the cuff and not a comprehensive list:

Read. I already read a lot, but I'm sloppy as hell. I found/rediscovered three books last year that inspired me to spend some quality time with great literature (How to Read a Book by Adler and Doren, The Well-Educated Mind by Bauer, and The New Lifetime Reading Plan by Fadiman and Major). I've kicked around with Moby-Dick and The Education of Henry Adams each for at least a decade, but I've never tried to truly understand them. This is the year.

Get out. By this I mean to hike, backpack, camp, snowshoe, and climb. I love nature and I want to learn as much as I can about it and explore as many out-of-the-way places as possible.

Pitch in to preserve landscapes and places. I volunteered a weekend at Riverside Cemetery last summer and felt like I did something truly worthwhile. I'm going to find more projects that appeal to my love of architecture, neighborhoods, and natural settings.

Develop my expertise as a cultural resource manager. I really don't think of myself just as a librarian anymore, because my professional interests go far beyond that. My job has cultivated my appreciation and sensitivity about donor relations, what's worth saving, and information design. My colleagues William Turkel, Hugh Graham, Beth Heller, Erin Landeck, and Nina Simon have been inspirational on these fronts as well.

Become involved in my community. It's amazing how easy it is to live in a town and not really know what's going on next door. The Arvada city council is looking for members to serve on the boards of the Arvada Urban Renewal Authority and Arts and Humanities Committee, so I hope to be soon contributing on one of those.

Increase my professional participation. Work stays interesting if you get out of the office once in a while to see what your colleagues are doing. The Colorado Association of Libraries just started a new chapter for special collections libraries (like mine). I'm also going to write for publication. I'll probably begin by doing some guest blogging on some high-traffic CRM (cultural resource management) blogs to develop ideas.

Build healthier relationships. I always say I'm going to do this, but the sands shift so much and I too often find myself lost when it comes to effectively managing them. Personal relationships are what I find the most bewildering in this life, but since I also find them the most worthwhile, I keep getting back into the ring. A specific point I'll work on is being aware of my own behavior triggers and owning my own "stuff." Everyone (spouse, friends, family, co-workers, etc.) will be subject to this treatment.

That's enough, I think.

Love Thy Neighbor

2008-12-22T10:35:00.017-07:00

That kind of love can be tough to grow. I realized that again when my neighbor "Tom", who I've written about before, came over yesterday to complain about my inattention to a stretch of sidewalk that becomes troublesome after winter storms.

Tom first "encouraged" me years ago to shovel my sidewalk because I used to not do it at all. I thought shoveling was pointless and dumb because Colorado snow melts pretty fast. Tom disagreed. But not wanting to start a neighbor war, I bought a snow shovel and waited.

I soon discovered that I actually liked shoveling the walk. It was good exercise and I vainly believed that I was in infinitely better physical shape than my neighbors because they all used snow throwers and therefore couldn't hang. Probably only "Josh," the seasoned landscape worker who lived across the street from me, could give me a run for my money, I would sometimes think as I carved out my paths.

A lot of people think I'm nice, perhaps too nice. For most of my life, I've perceived this as an unattractive label and that I was hopelessly cursed. Kind of like the way a woman might tell a guy that he's really sweet and maybe even adorable, but that she doesn't want to screw things up by becoming more than just friends. Right.

But I've discovered that I usually get what I want by being my nice self. Not always, but I can avoid becoming a jerk yet be tough, stand up for myself, and not let people take advantage of me. I'm beginning to see my brand of conflict management more as an asset than a liability.

However, when Tom came over yesterday and vented his frustrations about my handling of the sidewalk as he stood on MY porch, I struggled to choke down my defensiveness and anger. But at the same time, I could sense Tom's unhappiness and that it went far beyond any issues he had with me. I felt sorry for him and even wished in my heart the world would lighten its burden on him. I always wish that others would do the same for me. I can use it.

So, Tom and I decided we would work together on keeping the sidewalk cleared. Later in the evening, I went out and spread some sand on the ice that had indeed become treacherous. Maybe that sand will become a sort of temporary bridge between Tom and me. A bridge that will give us time to build something new together.

The Facebook Experiment

2008-12-16T22:24:00.003-07:00

Every time I decide to engage in a new online technology, it tests my boundaries between the personal and professional.

Facebook is my latest adoption. I signed up for an account about two years ago, but abandoned it soon after. I didn't put any effort into finding any "friends", which made it hard to see the point in continuing. It's a social platform, after all.

I deactivated my account, but of course it never completely disappeared. My real friend Amy found me on Facebook a few months ago, so I decided to give it another try. It took a few weeks, but I even filled out my profile and added a picture of myself. I've become quite progressive in this whole online world. Maybe someday I'll even get an iPhone.

Anyway, it wasn't long before some of my other real-life friends found and friended me. Still, I thought Facebook was weird. It seemed little more than reading other people's email. Not so much from a voyeuristic point of view, but that it was extraneous information. I could barely keep up with all of my RSS feeds, work and personal email, and print information, so looking for yet another spigot to open felt like I was one step closer to going under water for good.

I finally began to see the appeal of Facebook. I liked how the platform allowed me to simply touch base with the people I cared about. It helped to facilitate my real world relationships.

Then the test came. I started getting friend requests from former classmates, colleagues, co-workers, and people who I hadn't spoken to in years. Even though I was selective about those requests, I suddenly had people from all parts of my life in the same room. Individually, I had varying levels of intimacy with my "friends", but I soon realized that I needed to find an identity that would work with everyone as a group.

And that's what I've enjoyed about Facebook. It's challenged me to look at my relationships in a new way. I've made some meaningful connections with people who, in another time, I thought I would never hear from again. I get bits of information about my real-life friends, which allows me to slide right back into conversations with when I see them. And I'm learning about some really cool projects my colleagues and professional contacts are working on.

And I get it all from a single interface. Life should be simple like that, shouldn't it?

Happy Holidays

2008-12-07T23:14:00.003-07:00

From my chair to yours

The Way I See It

2008-11-30T20:49:00.010-07:00

Some days, I stop for a moment and think to myself, "OK, tell me again why I'm doing this?" Mostly this happens during my work day or times when I am simply thinking about work.

Recently, I mentioned the epiphany I had about becoming a librarian. After having worked in several libraries I'm not sure I've ever settled on a definitive "why" I wanted to become one in the first place.

But I may have just gotten a little clarity. Nina Simon at Museum2.0 wrote a post last week about what she's trying to accomplish in Museumland. I was kind of astonished to discover that she has no particular love for museums, nor does she go out of her way to visit them. My surprise didn't come so much from what I learned about Nina, but that I learned something similar about myself.

Nina's post made me realize that I like libraries and museums for their potential of what they can become. For me, that potential lies in their ability to be places of discovery - unbound by educational or any other kind of theory, free of elitism, or limited by the types and mediums of material they offer.

I first fell in love with libraries for the simple fact that I was allowed to wander around and look at the books. There was just enough structure to their systems of organization that I could find my way around and let my mind hook onto a creative thread. Libraries were my portal to ideas.

Later, I began to prefer modern bookstores over libraries. I liked the stores' visual appeal, with their outfacing books and interesting displays. Libraries can still learn a lot from bookstores in terms of being community centers.

Then my library came along. I had worked there for a couple of years before we built an accompanying museum. A most intriguing idea occurred while the museum was being built - to integrate the museum and library collections. Not physically (though that would be cool), but virtually. How swell it would be if I could cross-reference a book in the online catalog about the 1958 American Hidden Peak expedition with an actual ice axe that was used on the trip.

When I look into the future, I see libraries and museums as having holodecks (yes, like on Star Trek). Cultural institutions could become places where you could create your own reality based on an interpretation of what you experienced. I took a related spin on this idea some time ago.

For example, if you wanted to learn about historic porches in Seattle, you could ask the holodeck could create an exact replica of the porch and its surroundings. You could actually walk or sit on the porch as if you were really there. Hell, you could even make it rain and read a book about historic Seattle porches while you sat on the porch and listened to the rain come down.

So, my reasons for being a librarian today are really no different from the reasons I enjoyed libraries when I was a kid. Creating a place where it's OK (and encouraged!) to get lost in your own world of ideas.

I'm concerned that children in our society today live overly structured lives. I wonder sometimes how much they're allowed to let their minds run wild. But as bad as I think kids might have it, I think adults have it worse. I see so many of us get lost in our day-to-day grinds, myself included.

If they ever were, I hope libraries and museums can find ways again to become places to let your soul crack wide open. And I think that takes more than just books, DVDs, and even archives. It means throwing things like ice axes and porches into the mix.

When You're In, You're in it for Good

2008-11-23T18:04:00.015-07:00

Happiness is a fast car, an open highway, and a big cup of lousy gas station coffee. Me driving through the California desert during our trip to Vegas in February 2007.

Most people who know me have seen that I am a little in love with coffee.

If I were going to lie on the couch and tell you about it, I would say it started when I was in kindergarten. My dad, for whatever reason, thought it would be a good idea to introduce me to morning brew. My life was irrevocably changed.

My first clear memory of drinking coffee is the one I have during the winter of seventh grade. I looked forward to the afternoon walk home each day not just because seventh grade sucked, which it did, but also because my dad would have a fire stoked up in the fireplace and a fresh pot of coffee on.

I relished those few hours with my dad before I had to walk down the hall to the cold bedroom I shared with my brother and tackle my homework. Dad and I would sit together in the living room, sipping our joe, and watching whatever it was we watched on TV back then. We didn't need to talk about our day or anything like that. We had hot coffee and that's all that mattered.

These days I pour my first cup in the morning and I'll put my nose over the lip of my mug for a while before I take a drink. My mind goes quiet as I let the aroma waft up, the steam fogs my glasses, and the warmth of the mug radiates through my hands. After several minutes, I finally take a sip. I'm afraid I might be a little too into this ritual, so I play it safe and do this in the privacy of my office.

Bill, whom I've written about before, came into the library a few days ago and made an observation. "My god, dude. Your teeth are white!" he said, emphasizing his disbelief on the word 'white.' "How can they be that white when you drink so much coffee?" he asked.

"Do you put on that...bleach or whatever people use to make their teeth white?" Bill went on, baring his teeth and scrubbing them as if he had a toothbrush. Bracing myself for ridicule, I said that I did. But Bill merely nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he might consider bleaching his own teeth.

Some days, as I did on Friday, I'll walk the five blocks down the street to the corner Starbucks and get myself a venti-size afternoon caffeine blast. It's a lovely stroll and I would actually enjoy the passing of the storefronts and the river if I weren't so focused on my task.

On this particular trip, however, I was devastated to learn from the barista that something had happened to the hot water and that only cold drinks would be available that afternoon. I must have looked pretty forlorn because the barista handed me a coupon for a free drink next time I came in. I went back to work happy as if I had already redeemed the coupon.

Erin and I have gotten into camping the last few years, so I've been reintroduced to good ol' percolated camping coffee. There is nothing like the smell of coffee in the woods and watching the black stuff boil up excitedly through that little glass thingy on the lid. The appeal of this kind of coffee was lost on Erin for a while because so many grounds can end up in your cup. It's growing on her, though.

But why I like skanky, hole-in-the-wall-café coffee is probably the most mystifying to Erin. My only real requirement is that the coffee be fresh. Still, more times than not, Erin's face will pinch up and she can barely manage a "How can you stand that stuff?" as she pushes her cup away (or toward me because she knows I'll drink it).

"Oh, it's all right," I reply. Though if the coffee is particularly bad, I'll dump in an extra one of those fake half 'n' halfs. I don't know what it is, I think to myself. All is good and right with the world as I stir and look into my cup of lousy black gold.

Hey, Be Careful With That Thing!

2008-11-20T17:31:00.009-07:00

Last week we received a donation of an American flag that was planted on top of Mount Vinson, Antarctica's highest peak, after the first successful ascent of the mountain in 1966.

The story behind the flag is that it remained on Vinson until a German expedition retrieved it in 1979. Until now, the flag had been stored somewhere in Germany and with the help of one of the members who was on the original '66 expedition, we negotiated the donation of the flag to the museum.

So, the flag is unquestionably a historic artifact and must be treated as such. But there's a problem.

This evening we're having a special museum event and the gentleman (I'll call him "Frank") who helped us get the flag will be in attendance. Because of a major construction project we've had going on this fall, we haven't had the space or access to the supplies we need to properly unpack the flag. Textiles of that type and vintage have a tendency to tear easily, so I had to call Frank yesterday and reschedule a time for him to see the flag.

Frank was OK with postponing the viewing, but in many ways I felt silly to have to do this. After all, the flag had been flapping away in one of the harshest environments in the world for 13 years. It was frozen, windblown, and generally had the crap beaten out of it FOR A LONG TIME until someone finally brought it down.

I have a reverence for these kinds of artifacts and we're doing the right thing. That's just what you do in museums and it's why I hired Beth. You're getting paid to take care of the stuff.

But a lot of times, rendering rare and valuable items untouchable takes a lot of fun out of visiting libraries and museums. Touching and handling things seems like it should be part of the experience. It helps you to truly engage what you saw. Nina Simon often discusses this topic on her outstanding Museum2.0 blog.

It reminds me once again of what I said a while back about Jay Leno and his Big Dog Garage. Having fun with his expensive and rare cars is a big reason why he loves them.

Presence

2008-11-19T21:27:00.003-07:00

I have a problem with needing to know how things are going to turn out. Intellectually, it doesn't make any sense. Of course I'm not going to know how things are going to turn out until, well...they turn out.

My career is a good example. One day in the fall of 1994 I was riding the bus on my way work when I had an epiphany that I wanted to go back to college. I remember I was hunkered down in my seat and reading Amy Tan's The Kitchen God's Wife when somewhere on 6th Avenue between Wadsworth and Sheridan it just came to me that I wanted to go back to school. No reason why that I can recall, I just did. I registered the following spring and nine years later I graduated. Cum laude, no less.

During that time, I had another epiphany. I wanted to become a librarian. I was a corporate trainer at the time. The actual epiphany occurred while I was lying on the kitchen counter installing one of those under-the-cabinet-type coffee makers. Things can happen at odd times.

Now I'm a library director. When I think about it, the trajectory of this specific example is pretty amazing. I went from having an absolute dead-end job to slogging my way through college and grad school all while working full-time to changing careers to having a very interesting job in a very interesting organization. In another universe, I might be content. But I'm not.

It's OK to want to keep moving and growing, I know it is. But all of that thinking and planning for the next big thing made me miss a lot. The tragic thing is that I shouldn't have missed any of it because, physically, I was there. The problem was that I wasn't present.

I call it "checking out." It's as if I had been watching a video for years, but only had intermittent audio. There were great stretches of time when I wasn't getting the whole message. Even though I was there, I missed beautiful sunsets, my wife holding my hand, times when I should have laughed but didn't, times when I should have been sympathetic but wasn't, a pause in a phone conversation, the rush of air while opening a heavy door, a co-worker's smile, the feel of fine sheets, the sound of a gentle breeze.

Of course, I managed to capture a lot. And I'm grateful for that. It's just important to remember to be aware. All the time.

I thought about all of this when I was out with my friends Amy and Sara last night. They made me laugh as they always do, and I made sure I was with them the whole time. I came home and gave Erin a real hug. I was with her, too.

When I went to bed, I stopped for a moment as I was setting my alarm clock. I let myself catch up before moving on.

What I Noticed on My Sunday Run

2008-11-09T18:58:00.011-07:00

How much easier running was 25 years ago.

Two bird nests exposed high in trees made bare by autumn.

A long, uninterrupted view of the Boulder Flatirons - one of my favorite views of the city.

The hum of a telephone pole transformer on a quiet street.

A runner far fitter than I, made clear by the incredible rate at which she pulled away from me.

Pavement rolling under me like credits on a movie screen. The credits roll by more slowly with each passing year.

A temptation to take a shortcut through private property. My diminishing grace in hopping fences has become a powerful disincentive to do such things.

Dead leaves blowing around my feet on a crisp fall afternoon.

A feeling of thankfulness for my good health, my family, my friends, and for Erin.

How good walking felt when it was all over.

Hope for Inclusiveness

2008-11-05T22:41:00.006-07:00

This evening I listened to an interview with Ruth Cousins Denny, a key figure who helped end racial segregation in Denver in the 1960s. She's now 88 years old and her grandmother was a slave. An activist her whole life, Denny pushed businesses to hire minorities, schools to integrate, and promoted fair housing for minorities.

An interesting point in the interview occurred when the interviewer asked Denny if she felt hopeful that Obama would win the election after he had been nominated the Democratic presidential candidate in Denver a few months ago. Denny replied that she was excited about the nomination, but did not feel hopeful that Obama would win until late on election night.

The interviewer asked Denny how someone could fight for what she fought for her whole life, yet not feel hopeful that even after the DNC that Obama could win. She said it was because of her own life experience - the times when she had been ignored in the grocery store, not allowed in restaurants, and so on.

Denny explained that there were times in her life when she thought things were getting better, but something would invariably happen and knock it all down. She said that racial discrimination simply wore her down over the course of her lifetime, even though she fearlessly stared down that kind of opposition time after time. She was thrilled last night, to say the least.

I am absolutely unqualified to make any comment on what racial discrimination must feel like. The only thing I can say is that Ruth Denny is among the bravest and most admirable people who have ever lived. She is a hero in the truest sense of the word. Period.

But I had the strangest and most unexpected feeling when Barack Obama became President-elect last night. I felt liberated. I felt like something heavy had been lifted from my own back. And I knew it had something to do with the issue of race.

From my point of view, the United States became a country of inclusiveness for the very first time last night. We've always sold ourselves to the rest of the world as being inclusive and a land of opportunity for everyone, but I realized last night that I had never really believed it in my heart. Suddenly I had the most profound feeling of hope.

I watched people around the world cheering and waving American flags. I could suddenly see what most of the world's population has probably seen all along - that there had been a chain of 43 consecutive white, privileged men in the White House. As great as many as those men were, there is the simple fact that it is impossible for white, privileged men to make a meaningful connection with most of the rest of the world because they represent what may be the tiniest segment of the world's population. Obama's election is of enormous significance for this reason alone.

And let's not minimize the fact that Barack Obama's name is not Ted Williams, Brian Davis, or even Gary Landeck. It is Barack Obama.

So, that Mr. Obama was voted as one of the 25 Coolest Brothers of All Time by Ebony magazine was well deserved. I hope Ebony votes in Ruth Denny as one of the 25 Coolest Sisters of All Time whenever that issue comes out.

New Work Blog

2008-10-31T11:38:00.007-06:00

For anyone who cares about mountaineering or just wants to see what's been going on at my work, I'd like to direct you to the library's new blog.

We moved the old blog over to the WordPress platform and it's so much better than the original! We also have a Flickr page, some oral histories that I facilitated, and one video from a private DVD collection that we converted to mp4 format.

It's amazing what we're accomplishing for just a two-person shop. I have the best staff and group of volunteers I could hope for.

Someone Please Tell Me it Was All Just a Gag

2008-10-28T22:59:00.014-06:00

If nothing else inspires to you to vote in this election, our government's $700 billion plan to band-aid the financial industry should.

Nineteen years after what should have been forevermore the most grotesque financial maneuver in U.S. history, this year's bad boy is the absolute topper. We're talking a $2,000 tax bill for every man, woman, and child in this country. It is simply incomprehensible.

And, as the years following the S&L crisis made clear to me, again I cannot see anything significant that's going to be done to address the underlying issues of corruption and incompetence in our financial system. The captains of the big firms will continue to earn outrageous salaries for making stupid and, knowingly or not, malicious decisions.

The thing is that I'm an absolute firm believer in capitalism. I wouldn't care how much money those people made as long as I didn't have to personally pay for their epic screwups. Capitalism, yes, but times like these certainly stir my socialist tendencies and sympathies.

The one way in which the government can make this right for me now is to give my wife and me four thousand bucks worth of stock in these companies, to be purchased at a time of my choosing. I want the opportunity for stock splits and dividends and to sell my stocks whenever I want. Somebody will get the stocks I'm undoubtedly paying for anyway, so it might as well be me.

I just don't believe the world was going to come crashing down if the government didn't step in. I would have bet the money I just lost on it. In fact, betting on it would have been a hell of a lot more fun than simply handing over four bills. Nor do I believe my own economic situation is going to improve even a little because the government DID step in.

Perhaps the only good thing that's come out of this disaster is that I wrote my first-ever letter to my congresspeople. I begged them to shoot down this "should-have-laughable-but-maybe-that's-just-me" proposal. One of my senators actually wrote back and I was delighted to learn that he had voted against the plan (I know it was probably one of his staff who handled my humble plea, but I like to think my senator said, "Hey, it's Gary. I'll take care of this one." Don't burst my bubble, OK?)

So, when I shoved my ballot into the mailbox and closed the door, it sounded like this: "FOOM! BAM!" Followed by a kick that the mailbox surely felt.

Clearing the Runway

2008-10-21T22:40:00.002-06:00

The thing I like about traveling for work is the long stretch of solitude that generally goes along with it. I have my own car, my own hotel room, and my own time.

This time I had nearly a whole week. I did what I had to do during the day, and when I got "home" I went for a long walk followed by a nap. Dinner, if it called that, would surely appear terrible to an outsider - potato chips, coffee, non-alcoholic beer, maybe a Subway or french fries. Gross, but hey.

I never turn on the TV or even listen to music. Instead, I like to spend my evenings organizing my thoughts, going through the list of tasks I have to do, and things I hope to accomplish over the next few years. I make goals for the physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual parts of my life. It usually takes me a few days to work through all the stuff that I've allowed to build up since my last self-exploration, but once I do, I go to bed peaceful and happy.

Finally, I spend the flight home thinking and writing about what it all means. I find some irony in the realization that I want my life to be about other people - to help them, to laugh with them, to listen to them, to grieve with them. To contribute to their lives in some meaningful way.

The plane lands and I'm ready to reengage the world.

Just Some Old Stuff

2008-08-22T16:12:00.009-06:00

Beth and I had a little excitement at the library earlier this week when we found these in a forgotten storage area. These are original works by JMW Turner, an early 19th-century English master of landscape art. Turner is significant because he is often recognized as having laid the foundation for the Impressionists (particularly Monet) who would come along later in the century.

With apologies for the not-so-fab photography, the top image is an 1839 watercolor of the Aiguille du Dru, a peak in French Chamonnix. The bottom pic is an 1817 pencil sketch of the town of Turin, Italy (it appears the town had grown a bit by the time of the 2006 Winter Olympics).

We're having an appraiser from the Denver Art Museum evaluate both prints. Initial estimates value the sketch in the $5K - $10K range and the watercolor as much as $50K. Turner has an enjoyed a renaissance in recent years, fueled in part by Vegas casino magnate Steve Wynn's $35.8M purchase of a Turner oil painting in 2006.

A real Antiques Roadshow story. Check those attics!

Life With Bill

2008-08-19T21:41:00.006-06:00

Bill has been a volunteer at the library for most of the almost four years I've worked there. Bill is my age and is a former construction worker. He suffered an injury on the job several years ago which has since prevented him from regaining full-time work.

Bill and I have had our ups and downs. Before he came under my charge, there were times when I truly disliked him. As I tried to do my work, he would come up and begin hammering me about my politics, or that I drank Starbucks coffee, or that I paid to get my oil changed at Grease Monkey. It was absolutely maddening sometimes, and I would deeply regret the times when I allowed him to suck me into those conversations.

As time went on, however, I realized that I relied heavily on Bill. He was always available and was game for any kind of work. He has never once cancelled on me. I thought it a small gesture when I upgraded his status from volunteer to on-call employee.

Bill's mom told me once that she was grateful for me. Surprised and a little confused, I asked her why. She said that I gave Bill hope that people can be good. That he's had a hard go since his accident.

When I told Bill earlier this month that I was taking some time off so Erin and I could celebrate our anniversary, he appeared the next day with a list he and his mom had put together of fun things Erin and I could do around town. I said, "Wow, Bill. That was so nice of you." He responded, "Well, dude, I just want you guys to have a good time, bro" (Bill says "dude" and "bro" in nearly every sentence, which affects my own lexicon for days afterward - poor Erin).

Bill has been helping me prepare for a big construction project we're doing at the library (which you can read about on the posts of Aug. 12, 18, and 19 here) and he wanted some file cabinets I was getting rid of. So, we loaded them into my truck and drove them back to his house. As he showed me the two beat up cars he's working on, the backyard scrap heap that vexes him, and a gigantic rock he hopes to relocate someday, I saw that we had become friends.

A Progressive Museum

2008-08-06T12:28:00.007-06:00

A few weeks ago, I discovered Jay Leno's Big Dog Garage. Located "somewhere in Southern California," The Big Dog Garage is a private collection of cars, airplanes, and motorcycles of staggering depth and breadth. Everything in Leno's collection is in pristine condition and ready to drive (or fly). It is a facility that only someone with Leno's resources could assemble.

What I like about Leno's garage is that each week, he and his crew post a 5 to 15 minute video that showcases a specific "artifact" in the museum. Leno is a great curator and interpreter - it's clear that he loves everything he owns, collects great stuff, is very knowledgeable, and has a lot of fun showing it all off (how many museum professionals do you know who would take a half million dollar piece out of the museum and onto the street to do a big smoky burnout with it?).

Of course, Jay Leno is not a museum professional, let alone a trained curator. But he's doing what all museum professionals should be doing - taking relatively inaccessible material and finding interesting ways to get people excited about it. Excitement is the beginning of appreciation. Appreciation is the beginning of stewardship.

Below is an introduction to Jay Leno's Big Dog Garage and his 1,076hp(!) 1966 Oldsmobile Toronado:

Scarcity Mentality

2008-08-01T23:48:00.005-06:00

Erin is teaching a financial management and fundraising class at the DU Graduate School of Social Work, so I spent the last few weekends auditing the class. Erin planned a number of guest panels - inviting EDs, development officers, and board members to the class to discuss various issues related to nonprofits.

Nonprofits suffer from scarcity mentality. They try to do more with less, and it simply isn't sustainable. I've seen this problem many times in the six years I've worked for nonprofits. You'll never see five gallon drums of guacamole at staff parties, like the old days when I worked in the financial services industry.

Nonprofits have to start running like businesses, or they'll never accomplish what they hope to. That doesn't mean having lavish parties, but to simply invest in their people and infrastructure.

We also discussed in class that running a successful nonprofit takes more than simply having passion for the mission (though it is important not to minimize that aspect). You also have to understand how to mobilize and manage all of your resources. This includes everything from financial investments, to donor stewardship, to facilities operations.

Running a successful nonprofit demands a lot. And that costs money and time.

Getting Things Done

2008-07-29T22:17:00.003-06:00

I'm going to dedicate the next few posts to three books that have profoundly changed my life. The first one is Getting Things Done, by Dave Allen. As someone who was beginning to feel paralyzed by an endless to-do list, I couldn't resist picking it up. I made a good choice.

One of the main concepts of Getting Things Done is to break down all of the individual tasks you have to do and group them into projects. Projects put your individual tasks into context.

At first I was skeptical because I thought it would be more work to manage several to-do lists instead of just one. I tried it and, wow, what a huge difference it immediately made. I suddenly reconnected with some important goals I was beginning to lose touch with. What I was looking for in key relationships, certain career aspirations, and cultivating some kind of spiritual life all snapped back into focus. I couldn't believe what a difference this simple change made.

I also saw that I was working on some things I didn't care about. It made sense because I was just hitting the ground running every day and not taking any time for reflection. Now it felt great to cross those things off my list -- to get them off my mind and out of my life.

Working from the "project perspective" also showed me that I don't have to be working on all of my projects all of the time. This helped to make my daily task list a lot more manageable.

This is only one of several tricks I learned from Getting Things Done. If you often find yourself wishing you had the time and energy to live more mindfully and feel good about what you accomplished at the end of the day, I cannot recommend this book enough.

Weekend at Riverside Cemetery

2008-06-25T11:40:00.006-06:00

Life can be full of unique opportunities, if you put a little work into it. I spent last weekend at Riverside Cemetery, Denver's oldest, attending a gravestone conservation and cleaning workshop. What an experience!

Pretty much everyone who had a hand in Colorado's pioneer and territory days is buried at Riverside. The cemetery is located in what is now an industrial part of town called Globeville. The cemetery had become largely neglected over the years, and the revocation of its water rights in 2002 has desiccated nearly all the vegetation, including the trees. In fact, Colorado Preservation recently cited Riverside as one of Colorado's most endangered places.

Fortunately, things are beginning to look up. The Friends of Historic Riverside Cemetery brought in Jayne Uhlir, a specialist in stone sculpture and architecture, to teach last weekend's workshop. Jayne gave us a general overview of the significance of cemeteries and ended the day with a demonstration of proper gravestone assessment and cleaning techniques.

One of the profound realizations I gained from the class was how important cemeteries are as places of solitude in urban areas. If you take a walk and visit some of Riverside's wonderful crypts along the Platte River by yourself, you'll quickly learn why.

On Sunday, about a dozen of us braved 90 degree heat to assess and clean about 50 markers. I became expert (at least in my estimation) at measuring various features of the stones. It was fascinating to contemplate the countless stone designs and inscriptions.

During a break, I asked one of Riverside's regular volunteers if I could see the cemetery's archives. And what luck—all of the original internment records and plot maps are intact. Since then, I have been thinking about ways in which that information could be digitized and made meaningful to a wider audience. The old ledgers are in really rough shape, but are nothing a good book conservator couldn't make look pretty again.

Hugh Graham, who writes an excellent blog on topics related to design (in addition to being Riverside's webmaster), expressed an interest in collecting GPS coordinates for the plots and making those available online. Another volunteer told me about the searchable cemetery database she's building for researchers. Perhaps I'll lend a hand with some of these projects...

The best thing about the weekend was working with a group of people who were passionate about preserving this fantastic place. I believe photos from the workshop will be posted on the Friends site soon.

Who Says There's Nothing Out Here?

2008-05-26T18:20:00.006-06:00

Ever spend Memorial Day weekend in Limon, Colorado? How about Ramah, Colorado?

Huh?

As everyone else flocked to the mountains, we headed out to the eastern plains for some birdwatching. We had the whole eastern third of the state to ourselves, it seemed.

I was kind of dubious about it at first, but I've come to really enjoy birdwatching. Birding makes you look at what first might seem the most mundane landscapes in whole new ways. A patch of grass, a muddy turn in a creek, and a mound of dead branches take on real life when you spend ten or fifteen minutes studying them through binoculars. Birds will hide in all kinds of places!

We took some shots and you can see them and some commentary on my Picasa page. I mapped them, too, so you can get a sense of the middle of nowhere-ness we were in. One of the best parts of the day was stopping in Castle Rock on the way home at 10:00PM for a venti decaf coffee. Excellent.

A Plug for the Ladies

2008-04-23T16:34:00.003-06:00

I'm very proud to have at least three activists in my immediate circle. Erin, Lindsey, and Heather (wife, sister-in-law, and dear friend, respectively) attended Denver's Equal Pay Day Rally on Tuesday. Attendance was fairly small, but three Colorado legislators were present (and hopefully took what they saw and heard to heart).

Equal pay is not just a women's issue - men have a stake in it and need to get on board, too. Learn more on Erin's blog here and here.

You go, girls!

Tuesday Afternoon

2008-04-15T20:50:00.009-06:00

I went rock climbing with my coworkers today. I almost didn't go because I felt I had too much work to do, but it was such a gorgeous sunny day. I had a lot of fun.

This morning I got an email from a friend that made me laugh. I also made some real headway into planning a complicated renovation at the library. I feel like I'm in a lot better place now than I did this morning.

Yesterday, I told Erin that I would join her at a support rally demanding equal pay for women. The rally is next Tuesday.

On Sunday, I had breakfast with a colleague who is a former classmate from grad school. She talked me into going to a conference in the first part of June. I had decided a few weeks ago that the conference had nothing to offer, but Robbie made me see things differently.

I also hung a set of pictures and shadow boxes that were a pain in my booty. It doesn't look too bad!

On Friday, I had lunch and drinks with Sara. We laughed a lot and went shoe shopping afterward.

Sometime last week, I had a difficult conversation with someone that turned out pretty well.

A week ago, I took a long lunch to see another friend who had a baby in January. I think the baby liked me OK, which was good.

The weekend before that I had breakfast with a friend I've known for almost 15 years. She told me about the trip she and her husband are taking to England next month. It will be her first time there.

So, as I held onto the rock by my fingertips 30 feet above the ground, it occurred to me that I'm learning how to live.

April Already?

2008-04-03T23:16:00.002-06:00

I went on a fun business trip a few weeks back. I posted pictures and some commentary here.

It's Not Cool to Be Uncool

2008-03-09T23:13:00.007-06:00

I thought it would be hip to be a non-drinker. I sometimes pictured myself walking up to the barkeep at a chic bar, ordering a Kaliber, and the barkeep would look at me with a lovely "You're so responsible, and thank you for treating me respectfully unlike all the drunken guys here" look. She would hand me a fake beer and say, "Here you go, hon. It's on the house." I would tip my bottle to her to imply thanks, and walk away with an air of being the master of my own destiny or whatever.

But I've been disappointed. I'm not getting the respect I think I deserve. Nobody is noticing the sacrifice I'm making.

One time we met some friends at Gunther Toody's and when I ordered a NAB (the acronym Erin and I use to refer to non-alcoholic beer), the waitron said, "What, you don't drink?" I was nonplussed. I thought I might say to him, "Well, yeah...and who cares, anyway? This is Gunther Toody's. You've probably been serving chocolate shakes all day, so why are you busting my chops about my particular drink order?" I let him off easy, though, as I (think) I usually do.

About a month ago, we were at a big party downtown that had advertised a 'mostly' open bar. Right on! It sounded fun and I liked the idea of it being a relatively inexpensive night out. I walked up to the bar to get drinks for the people at my table. I placed my order, including a Coors Cutter for myself. "The Cutters are $2.00," the barkeep said.

Wait a minute. How can real beer be free and the Cutters cost $2.00? It's fake beer, for god's sake. That is just stupid.

On another occasion, I stopped by the liquor store to buy a case of non-alky. When I went to the counter to pay, the clerk looked at my goods and said, "Wow, looks like you're going to have one hell of a party."

And then there was today. One of Erin's friends just published a book, so we went to a downtown bar this afternoon to attend the book signing. I ordered an O'doul's to "keep my edge" as the guys on the commercials used to say. "That will be $4.50," the bartender said. I looked at her in complete wonderment. Oh, just forget it. Give me a vodka tonic, and I'd better see you pour a lot of Grey Goose into that glass!

Maybe it's the name that blows it for us: teetotallers. Hey, man, you're a t-e-e-t-o-t-a-l-l-e-r. It rolls off the tongue in a laughable kind of way.

Perhaps we have a case to become protected class citizens. The injustice in this world is too much.

Made in the USA

2008-03-07T00:15:00.002-07:00

I just read two articles in High Country News that trouble me further about the global economy. China's breakneck economic growth has created a huge demand for two minerals found predominately in the western United States: copper and molybdenum. The West may see an ugly return to its mining roots.

As factories spring up all over China, the country has been forced to import raw materials to build infrastructure. Copper is used in the factories' electrical and plumbing systems. Molybdenum, used historically as a strengthening agent in steel, is now a primary element in the production of nuclear power. Nuclear energy is China's only reasonable hope to keep up with its staggering energy demands.

So it all comes full circle. The U.S. must give to China so China can give to us. The American West and mining were once nearly synonymous with one another. But as small western towns become increasingly gentrified and environmental concerns mature, small towns have been reluctant to see mining's return.

But for the towns sitting on rich mineral deposits and facing depressed local economies, there may be no other choice. The price of copper has nearly doubled in the last decade. Moly has quickly increased from from $2.00 per pound to an unbelievable $35.00+ per pound. The small towns of Rico, Colorado and Superior, Arizona have been powerfully affected by the changes in our global economy.

Excuse me while I return the little stuffed Easter bunny I just bought.

Made In China

2008-02-28T22:33:00.004-07:00

Sometime last summer, we had some guests over for dinner and the topic of labor rights came up. My friend said, "I hate what I hear about labor conditions in China, so I decided to quit buying products made in that country."

"How is it going?" I asked.

"It lasted about three months," he said.

Not long after that evening, I found myself picking up products at random while I was shopping. I soon discovered why my friend's good fight had lasted only three months: EVERYTHING is made in China.

I'm impressed he even made it that long. Once I realized that I would literally have to give up certain necessities and comforts to go sans China, it wouldn't be long before life would begin to lose some of its lustre. For better or for worse, I'm a typical consumer who likes lots and lots of choices. Countries like China make that possible.

A thoughtful person should be troubled by the real costs of cheap abundance, and I am. But what about this - instead of denying yourself things because they're made in China or anywhere else where the treatment of workers is questionable, how about supporting organizations that work to improve labor conditions in those countries?

A quick internet search produced some hopeful possibilities. Campaign for Labor Rights and China Labor Watch are two organizations that seek to enforce international labor laws in all countries, including the U.S. I would happily pay a little more for a hammer or a back scratcher knowing that it costs more to create humane working conditions in the factories where those products are made.

I'm personally drawn more toward supporting causes that confront the world's economic realities rather than boycotting them. Is it because I don't want to give up my stuff? Absolutely. Is it because supporting those causes makes me engage the world in a real and meaningful way? Absolutely. Is it better than complaining bitterly about all the pain and injustice in the world, but doing nothing to make things better? Absolutely.

Just a thought.

Happy New Year

2008-02-25T13:12:00.003-07:00

If I don't blog for a while, I sort of forget that I even have a blog. Forgive me readers (if I have any left), for I have not blogged in nearly two months.

Work has been the biggest part of my life lately, though I think I'll start working fairly normal hours again. The museum is finally open and it is amazing. It's a converted gymnasium and a company that has done a lot of work for the Smithsonian did the design and construction. The library is physically connected to the museum via a shared reading room. All museum's attention has increased the library's walk-in traffic dramatically. I'll talk about work more as time goes on, but you can visit my work blog if you want to know more (another blog that I've allowed to lapse).

Just a few updates:

My friend Amy H. and her husband Greg had a new baby girl, Mira, who was born in January. I'll meet her in person soon, but I've seen pictures and she's beautiful like her mom and big sister.
Erin now has an Etsy store! She's been putting up some jewelry, so stop by and have a look. Erin is also teaching a master's course on financial management for social services nonprofits at the University of Denver. She's really busy with teaching, but is having fun.
My brother-in-law, Scott, painted the whole inside of our house. We went from white everywhere to color everywhere and it looks fantastic.
I got brave and bought a domain name. You can now find my blog at http://www.garylandeck.com/. I have new ideas for my blog (and maybe a website) which probably means I have to apply myself more than once every two months.
My friend, Christine, made this groovy new blog banner for me. Thanks, Christine!
My friend Amy M. and her husband, Gary, found out they are going to have a boy! The baby is due at the end of May.
I guess Erin and I had seen one too many of those "Kill Your TV" bumper stickers. We took the message literally and had the old brainsucker disconnected. Can't even watch the local news now. I feel a lot better, frankly.
My writer friend, Heather, is five minutes away from having her website go live. I've seen the template and it looks great. I bugged her for a long time about doing a blog, which I personally think is fine even when I'm not blogging myself.

I'm undoubtedly missing some important events and happenings, but it's a start. Things like these take time and a kick in the pants.

Christmas Snow

2007-12-27T17:48:00.000-07:00

One of things I love about Colorado is that the sun shines almost all the time. We'll get a big storm one day and the next will dawn clear blue. This is a picture I took as I was shoveling the eight inches of snow we received on Christmas Day. I love our neighborhood because it's (fairly) old with big, established trees and has an excellent view of the Front Range. Please note the blue sky.

Merry Christmas

2007-12-25T22:15:00.000-07:00

Sometimes if you stay in a place long enough, you'll see some things change for the better.

We have two sets of neighbors who have been fighting for twenty years. As far as I can tell, it all started with "Barbara's" four kids. Three of her kids no longer live at home, but her youngest daughter, "Mary Ann" still lives at home with her two-year-old son, "Michael."

Anyway, it appears that all four of Barbara's kids were hellions as they were growing up and tormented the second neighbor's kids. The second neighbors, "Tom" and "Nancy", told us once that they believed Barbara's kids had broken into their house some years earlier and started their kitchen on fire. On another occasion, Tom and Nancy's dog had mysteriously died and they believed that Barbara's kids were somehow responsible for that, too. Though police investigations turned up nothing in either case, general ill will grew between Barbara and Tom and Nancy.

Once or twice a year, Erin and I saw the emotional pot boil over as Barbara would engage in screaming matches with Tom and Nancy in the middle of the street. One Thanksgiving weekend about five years ago, Tom and another neighbor, "Woody", approached me in my front yard and asked if I would join them in some kind of witch hunt against Barbara. Barbara had always been pleasant to Erin and me and since we were always dubious about Tom and Nancy's own involvement in the neighbor war, I declined.

Then something interesting happened. About three years ago, Barbara's husband, "Rick", either got kicked out of the house or simply left the marriage. A few months later Barbara's new beau, "Josh", moved in. Josh was a hard-working, soft-spoken, friendly guy who seemed to get along with everyone. He was one of those unusually nice neighbors who would just come over to say "hi" or help you unload the 40 plants you just bought at the nursery.

A year later, I caught Josh and Tom having a friendly conversation on Tom's driveway. I was a little astounded. Could it be that a truce had been called? I called Erin over to the window to confirm what I was seeing. She couldn't believe it, either.

And sure enough, things started to improve between our neighbors. I've never asked either of them about it, so I'm not sure I'll ever know what happened.

This morning, I saw Tom on Barbara's driveway blowing the eight inches of snow we received early Christmas morning. Later in the day, I saw Josh taking a walk with Michael. Michael was wearing a new bright green parka that Santa must have brought him.

Christmas doesn't get much better than that.

Communication 101

2007-12-19T08:44:00.001-07:00

Lately, I've noticed that I have trouble getting beyond superficial topics when I talk to people. I discussed my dilemma with Erin a few days ago, and I came away with three new tools to use when I'm talking to co-workers, friends, and family:

1. Listen and repeat
Repeating back to the speaker what you think you heard from them is a great way to really be present with that person. It shows, too, that you're taking a genuine interest in what she has to say. I have a bad habit of going on and thinking about what I'm going to say next while the other person is talking (In my experience, this is especially typical of men). As a result, I usually miss what that person is trying to communicate and so we rarely get beyond superficial topics of conversation.

2. Coaching
This is a tricky one because it does NOT mean to direct the other person. Directing is obnoxious at best and must be avoided if at all possible. To coach means to help the other person find the answer for herself. For example, say a friend is telling you about a particular problem she's having with her husband. A good response might be, "What have you tried before?"
"Well, we've gone to therapy to try working it out"
"How did that go for you?"
"He shuts down in therapy."
"What do you mean by shutting down?"
"He gets irritated and doesn't talk."
"Is there anything else he might feel more comfortable with or responsive to?"

And so on. Again, conversing in this way shows that you're taking a genuine interest in the speaker's concerns. If you're a good coach, the chances that the speaker will open up and deepen the conversation increase dramatically.

3. Transparency
This means to share what you're feeling. This is a big issue for me because my feelings play a huge role in my communication patterns. When I get stressed out, I lock up and can't hear the other person at all. At that point, I should say, "You know, I'm feeling really stressed out and I can't hear or understand what you're saying." This will automatically make the conversation shift gears and (hopefully) put the conversation on a meaningful course to address something real that is affecting your relationship with that person.

Erin is an ESTJ and I am an INFJ, which means our communication preferences are radically different from one another. But after practicing these techniques for about a half hour, I began to know and understand Erin more than I have in years. I felt like a whole new person. It was fabulous.

Of all the things I have, I care about my relationships the most. Improving my communication is the wisest investment I'll ever make.

The First Year

2007-12-15T09:48:00.000-07:00

It's been a year since my promotion to library director. For most of the past 12 months, I've felt that I was merely surviving my job. But now I'm beginning to grow into it.

I wasn't sure I would enjoy (or even understand) my new role. I was doubtful about calling all the shots. It would be my first job as a supervisor, and I was certainly dubious about that.

And indeed, it hasn't been easy. I've made some serious mistakes and have eaten more crow that I thought humanly possible. I have been in trouble with my boss and the chair of the library committee. I've had to find ways to implement multiple projects simultaneously. I've had to fire someone.

But in spite of getting knocked around pretty hard, I've discovered that I like being an administrator. It's been liberating to learn how to delegate work and communicate with authority. Library donors and benefactors have commented positively on my leadership. When I look around and see that my employees and volunteers like coming to work, I feel like I'm making a difference. I want to be a good coach.

In January 2001, I had an epiphany that I wanted to become a librarian. I remember it vividly; I was under a kitchen cabinet drilling holes for a new coffee maker. I had NPR on and there was an announcement about that year's Caldecott winner. Between the drill, coffee maker, and radio I was hooked.

I don't know where it's all going, but it doesn't matter. Life should be fun. Everything leads to here.

I'm Dreaming of a Phat Christmas

2007-12-07T14:50:00.001-07:00

I can't believe how much stuff I have. I'm not even a "stuff" kind of guy. I regularly purge my stuff, making me one of the local Goodwill store's favorite people. Or not.

Still, I own things like circular saws, ultrasonic jewelry cleaners, and bowling balls. I have so much stuff now that sometimes I'll find something and have absolutely no idea where it came from. I'll sit and look at it for several minutes until I finally concede, "Nope, I just can't remember..." I find those situations to be distressing on many levels.

I have everything I could conceivably ever want. Which makes me really like the things some of my people are doing for gifts these days; Erin and Sara make beautiful handmade jewelry, Cindy makes stunning Christmas cards, and Amy is asking for donations to Heifer International. I just learned from an article in the Chronicle of Philanthropy that you can buy charity gift cards, too.

I like the idea of making things for gifts. Maybe I'll learn how to weld or do woodworking.

What to do, what do do...

Well, I'll tell you what. If you're really stuck, you can get me a GPS, snowshoes, or a new carry-on bag. I don't have THAT much stuff.

Sunday Afternoon

2007-12-02T13:56:00.000-07:00

Life is a bewildering experience. It hasn't turned out the way I thought it would, but I've never known what it's "supposed" to be like, either.

I used to feel that approaching life in this way was somehow a weakness of mine. It is true that sometimes my private reflections are melancholy, but my worldview is one of wonder and hope.

True happiness is found where real work begins. It is not in the new and the exciting, but comes later when you build and become.

So, I suggest this. Pick something and be unapologetic about who you are.

Thanks, But I'll Pass

2007-11-30T15:05:00.000-07:00

I admit I have a flippant attitude when it comes to online privacy. I love sharing my online world with other people and the more technology enables my ability to do so, the more excited I get about what other people consider a Big Brother world. Yes, I've read 1984. Twice.

But this article in the NY Times is making me reassess my position on privacy. Facebook, an enormously popular social networking site, just employed a new kind of software called Beacon. If you're a Facebook user, Beacon will track your online purchases and the websites you visit.

I've known for a long time that my online activity has probably been tracked by evil software lurking somewhere in cyberspace. I've pretty much been OK with that. Trying to stop technological innovation (whether it's bad or good) is pretty much like stopping a bullet with my forehead. I can do a lot more good for the world if my forehead stays intact.

But here's the thing about Beacon. Not only will it track your online activity, but it will send updates to your Facebook "friends" about what you've been up to via news feeds. Whether you like it or not.

What!?

Facebook pulled the plug (albeit temporarily) on Beacon yesterday after receiving 50,000 complaints from Facebook users. Some people were even finding out what they were getting for Christmas (that may have been the only slightly humorous example of what Beacon can do).

So, I think I'd better work harder to keep my online nose clean. I'll save my dirt for restaurants, bars, and living rooms.

It's a brave new world we live in. Yes, I've read that, too.

Christmastime Is Here

2007-11-28T16:32:00.000-07:00

I know I'm no superstar nature photographer, but hey, I try. These are shots I took today while I was on my walk to Starbucks (I have a horrible, horrible coffee addiction. Thanks, Dad, for introducing coffee to me when I was in Kindergarten). These were taken from the bridge over Clear Creek in downtown Golden.

The streets were completely iced over this morning and I had my longest commute to date for this job - an hour and 45 minutes for a ten mile drive. I like having some alone time in the car to think, but that was ridiculous. Running to work would have been faster.

The snow is making things look very Christmas-y. We got our Christmas decos up over the weekend, including a total of five trees. I've come a long way from the sad, little Charlie Brown tree and handful of crappy ornaments I had when I was a bachelor.

By the way, a hot glue gun rocks for hanging garland on brick surfaces. It's got great holding strength, but will still come off if you pull hard enough and it doesn't leave any marks. The stuff you can learn on NPR...

To Save A Cemetery

2007-11-27T11:58:00.000-07:00

I've been following an interesting blog that focuses on a concept called "design strategy." The blog is authored by a local guy named Hugh Graham and, for anyone who is interested, he tries to explain what design strategy is. Graham's posts usually have a sociological bent to them and he covers all sorts of ideas and disciplines as they apply to design - art, business, and education to name a few.

Graham and some other like-minded folks have taken up a cause to preserve and heighten awareness of Denver's oldest graveyard, Riverside Cemetery. Located in north Denver, Riverside's history dates back to the Civil War and documents a wide range of local events, including the Sand Creek Massacre.

So, Graham and Co. have started a little nonprofit called Friends of Historic Riverside Cemetery. A meeting was held earlier this month to nominate a board of directors and the group is now busy mobilizing their efforts and resources to save this wonderful place.

I've become particularly interested in nonprofit startups since Erin and I attended the Colorado Nonprofit Association's fall conference last month. I learned that many industry leaders are concerned that the nonprofit sector is becoming diluted because too many nonprofits have overlapping missions. These same people contend that if nonprofits would increase their awareness of one another and combine their resources wherever they are appropriate, philanthropy in general would get a much needed shot in the arm. Sounds reasonable to me.

Which brings me back to FOHRC. I'm curious to see if/how the Friends will ally themselves with established organizations (Colorado Preservation, Colorado Historical Society, Historic Denver, and the National Trust for Historic Preservation come immediately to mind. My understanding of how to construct good business models for nonprofits is nascent, but it seems that FOHRC may want to concentrate on their specific cause as well as draw from the experience and resources of established organizations.

We'll see how it goes. I'm cheering for these folks.

On The West Coast

2007-11-23T12:08:00.000-07:00

I had an exciting opportunity last week to visit the West Coast. It was a business trip, but I worked things out so I could spend time with some dear friends. I'm way overdue for a post to my work blog, so I'll plan to talk about the business part of the trip on that forum. I want to talk about some special people here.

I spent one night in Los Angeles with Dan and Kimberly. I met Dan in my waning years at Invesco when we started riding the same bus to work. Dan is a musician whose interests are in electronic music and vintage recording equipment. He's a techie and I used to marvel at the way he would pore over schematics for synthesizers, amplifiers, and other types of electronic gear while we rode the bus. Dan recorded a great CD a few years ago, so be sure to check it out.

Dan's wife, Kimberly, is a genetic scientist at CalTech and she is just a super sweetie. It's no surprise that she's pretty smart, too.

Dan and Kimberly moved to L.A. about five years ago when Kimberly took her job at CalTech. They live near Pasadena with their two cats, Gordon and Yolanda. Gordon is really shy and I only saw him once. Yolanda is less so and she let me pet her - a little. Dan and Kimberly put me up for the night and I had breakfast with them the next morning before I went to my business appointment and flew up to San Jose later in the day. I really miss those two.

On Friday, I rented a car and drove from San Jose north to Petaluma (about 45 minutes north of San Francisco) to see my friend Amy and her husband Gary. Amy is one of my favorite people and I learned just before my trip that she and Gary are expecting a baby next May.

Amy and Gary took me to their favorite Petaluma restaurant, Risibisi, for a wonderful dinner. The next day we toured the Sonoma wine country (including the winery where Amy and Gary were married last year) and visited the stunning new library where Amy works. On Sunday, we went to Point Reyes National Seashore. It was a foggy day and it was hard to see much, but I didn't care. It was beautiful and it was my very first trip to the ocean.

Amy prepared a cozy guest room for me and I zonked out all three nights I was there. Her cat, Toulouse, let me pet him quite a bit (I'm bummed that I didn't take pics of any of the cats). And nobody got confused having two Garys in the house.

I had a lot of fun on that trip and I look forward to going back. Thank you Dan, Kimberly, Amy, and Gary for everything!

Happy Thanksgiving

2007-11-22T12:17:00.000-07:00

I love Thanksgiving because it makes me reflect on how good and meaningful life really is. These are just a few people and things that make it easy to look forward to each day:

For Erin, who after 17 years, continues to make everything she touches beautiful in some new way
Having health that makes even the slightest illness rare
Living in a place where most days are sunny
Amy, a friend who has an everyday presence though she lives far away
Emily and Dan, for their positive outlook on life
Heather and Jim, for all the times they've gone out with just a moment's notice
Jamelyn, the friend whom I've known the longest
Amy H., Greg J., Sara, and Greg P., for being just plain fun
My mother-in-law Cindy, for making me laugh
For finally having found a career that makes me look forward to going to work every morning
For computers and the Internet, which have helped me cultivate relationships and creativity I would have never dreamed possible
For Mom, Dad, Cyndi, and Dave for being there no matter what
For peaceful moments of solitude

I hope you have much to be grateful for, too.

Friends

2007-11-07T21:37:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about having a blog is that you can broadcast to the whole world the good things that are happening in the lives of those you care about. I was driving home from work on Monday when my dear friend Amy called to tell me she was pregnant. Actually, what she told me was that she had dressed up as a pregnant woman for Halloween. Sometimes I'm a little slow when it comes to jokes, but I guessed quickly that it was for real.

I met Amy five years ago when I had taken a job as a book shelver at the Denver Public Library. I liked her right away and she made my two years of schlepping books at DPL a lot of fun. She introduced me to her circle of friends and all of them still have a strange ability to make me laugh until I can't breathe.

Then Amy met a guy named Gary (I thought I was the only one who had that name), moved to California with him, and got married last year. Now she's going to have her first baby. I can't believe so much has happened in the time I've known her. Time sure goes fast when you're getting old.

Amy sounded so happy when I spoke to her. And those are some of life's best moments - when you can share in the good fortune of one's family and friends. I know she'll be a wonderful mom.

Congratulations, Amy and Gary!

The People We Know

2007-11-06T16:42:00.000-07:00

Some things are too good not to share. I have a colleague who often sends totally bizarre, random email messages that leave me laughing and thinking "Wha...?"

Bob is a geologist by training and is absolutely passionate about his work and hobbies. He is one of the friendliest people I've ever met and he is always bursting with enthusiasm. The problem is that his conversations are usually inaccessible to lay folk like me. And his emails rarely make any sense. This message is by far the most coherent one I've received from him:

Hi guys,

There is a naked eye comet up in the sky in Perseus, about 15 degrees below Cassiopeia ( three fists). If you go out with binoculars, and scan for Comet Holmes it will knock your socks off. The comet is growing a tail and visible plainly in the city with light pollution. A few days ago even with the Moon it was huge, about 1/3 as big as the Moon through binos.
It is not too far from Algol (ăl`gŏl), the famous variable star.

Comets are great to view in the mountains, along with the other deep sky objects or a back packing telescope. I was on the top of a mountain in the Cascades when I saw comet Ikea Zang passing 1/2 degree away from Andromeda galaxy. Wow!

When I looked at the Comet Holmes, it looked eight times larger than the Andromeda Galaxy through binoculars. It is a volatile piece of CO2 ice, water ice and rock as large as a mountain, flying up to a million miles per hour.
Now days, i only get the chance to observe when there is a supernova in the galactic neighborhood, something else wild, or a specific galaxy on a research project.

http://spaceweather.com:80/

Sometimes I check 'space weather' before I climb at altitude, just incase there is a class 3 electron/ proton storm. The comet is on the front page of Space Weather.

Just returned from 9 days in the mountains with a space physicist friend.

ad astra,
Bob

Well, at least this time I understand that I need to get my binocs and go out to look for something tonight. But where the hell is Cassiopeia...?

The Ultimate Museum

2007-10-30T23:38:00.000-06:00

I just picked up the latest issue of Archaeology and read a fascinating article about "space junk." One archaeologist believes that some of the 10,000 satellites (of which only 4% are still functioning) are a part of our cultural heritage and should be preserved within the context they were meant to exist - space.

Above is a photo of Vanguard 1, a tiny satellite that the U.S. Navy launched into orbit in 1958. It was the fourth satellite put into space and is now the oldest piece of junk still floating around up there. It has circled the earth some 200,000 times during its 49-year journey.

Governments have long talked of cleaning up all of the dead junk that is circling the earth. The interviewee agrees, but said we should leave the pieces that have been integral to major shifts in technology. Early spy and telecommunication satellites are good examples.

As a lover of places, I was intrigued by the idea of outer space as being part of the world's cultural landscape. Perhaps someday we'll be able to board commercial vehicles and take a space tour 110 miles above the earth's surface. You could zip over Antarctica or Sikkim to visit important satellites while an interpretive guide explained the satellites' historical and cultural significance. All while you gazed out at the big blue globe below.

Now, THAT would be cool.

Happy Halloween

2007-10-30T23:09:00.000-06:00

I got really excited about Halloween last Sunday. Our friends Emily and Dan had us and three other couples over to carve pumpkins. Emily made some outstanding homemade chili and apple cider. We ate, drank, laughed, and enjoyed a perfect sunny day on the back porch. All the right ingredients for carved pumpkin masterpieces.

Maybe mine isn't a masterpiece, but it turned out pretty well. I even free handed it! Last year, I learned that a high-powered 14.4V hammer drill pretty much shatters a pumpkin on contact (I actually had a thoughtful plan, but it just didn't work), so I used a small carving saw this year. Much better!

First Snow

2007-10-21T10:07:00.000-06:00

Colorado weather can be freaky any time of the year, especially in the spring and fall. Yesterday was a gorgeous 70 degree sunny day. At eight o'clock this morning we had thunder, and by nine we had this!

Light snow always makes the yard look so cool. Gotta love those Scotch brooms!

Brother and Sister

2007-10-18T22:38:00.000-06:00

I had coffee with my sister today. Cyndi and I started making monthly coffee dates about a year ago. I don't remember exactly how we got started, but I'm glad we're doing it.

We always meet at the same Starbucks. Cyndi is three and a half years younger than I am. Her three daughters, Cassidy, Miranda, and Megan, are ages 12, 8, and 5. All three kids are busy with all kinds of sports and activities - choir, softball, BMX bike racing, etc. They're good students, too. Cyndi is the family project manager and I admire how she keeps it all together.

Cyndi started dating the guy who would become her husband when she was 16. They've been together an unbelievable 20 years. It's one of those relationships that transcends time.

There are vast stretches of time in my life where I don't remember Cyndi at all. I remember when she first came home from the hospital after she was born. I petted her head and thought of her more as a curiosity than a sister. She had a very round body and a very round head, and my parents affectionately called her "Butterball" for a while.

Except for a few isolated times, Cyndi doesn't surface in my memory again until she was about 16. It is so strange. I did a lot with my brother (who's a year and half younger than I), but I just didn't pay much attention to my one sister. Sometimes, just out of the blue, a sharp pang of hurt and disappointment overcomes me. I wish I had made more of an effort to know her better.

All I can do now is to use the present well. I've always known that Cyndi loves me. And I certainly love her.

So I look forward to our coffee dates. Each time, Cyndi gives me something I can use to fill those old holes.

(Sometimes) Print Rules

2007-10-17T23:44:00.000-06:00

I love print dictionaries. When their web-based counterparts came along several years ago, I thought I would abandon the print version forever. It was so much easier to just use the web.

I realized, though, that using a print dictionary is serious, physical business. At work, I keep a hefty Webster's unabridged dictionary on a shelf several feet behind my desk. When I need to use the book, I push off as hard as I can in my chair. As I roll backward at blinding speed, I simultaneously spin my chair around so by the time I arrive at the dictionary, I'm perfectly poised to lift it from the shelf (Bummer moment: One time, I nearly put a coworker in the hospital when she, unbeknownst to me, had walked up behind my chair just as I had launched).

Next, I heave the book from the shelf and slam it onto my lap. I bushwhack my way through its thick, heavy pages. The type is big so I immediately find what I'm looking for. People who are two floors above can probably hear it when I crash the covers back together. Finally, I give it a satisfying shove back on the shelf and return to my desk the same way I came.

It's just not the same with a mouse and keyboard.

Rockies Fever!

2007-10-15T17:53:00.000-06:00

I don't have it.

The Colorado Rockies are having their best season since the team was born 14 years ago. The Rockies aren't just good this year, they're now one game away from the World Series. It's hard to believe that baseball's biggest game may soon be here in town.

But I've been unaffected by the mania that's sweeping Denver right now. Nearly everyone will be tuning in for the games. I'm not sure I'll join them. Well, maybe a game or two. I'm not that detached.

It's not baseball's fault that I'm indifferent to it. It's a fine game. It's America's original pastime, for god's sake.

It's because of grade school gym class. The horrors of gym class. Shirts versus skins. Taking showers. Baseball.

Perhaps if someone had given me some instruction, playing baseball would have been fine. But my gym teachers seemed to believe that all boys knew the game instinctively. Not me. I fumbled around, trying desperately to understand what the other kids were doing. I just didn't get it.

Playing outfield gave me a modicum of relief. All I had to do was crank the ball back to the infield and let those guys figure it out. Playing infield was a nightmare. I would rather have been caned.

It was a glorious day when, in my sophomore year of high school, I went to gym class for the very last time.

It's all water under the bridge now. The emotional damage I suffered while playing baseball has long since healed. I think.

There is a tiny dark spot somewhere in my mind. A spot so small that I'll almost forget that I'm cheering for the Rockies from afar.

On The Border

2007-10-14T16:11:00.000-06:00

There are some things I want to do before I die. The short list includes canoeing the length of the Rio Grande in Big Bend National Park. I also want to spend a week trekking in the Tumacacori Wilderness in southern Arizona. Both would surely be unforgettable experiences.

If I wait too long, though, I might find both areas radically different than what I might expect. And not in a good way.

Big Bend and Tumacacori comprise just a small part of the famous (or infamous, depending) 2,000-mile stretch of territory that defines the border between the United States and Mexico. The activities that take place along the border have long been politically, economically, and socially charged. But there is another problem that gets less attention. Border control has also had profound ramifications on the ecosystems of the Southwest.

The U.S./Mexico border is home to some of the world's most biologically diverse regions. The current issue of High Country News has an illuminating article called "Cat Fight on the Border", which discusses the impact border activities have had on the Southwest's animal habitats. Not surprisingly, fences designed to control illegal immigration have had devastating effects on animal migration patterns. The article focuses specifically on the region's jaguar population.

The article doesn't include much about why jaguar migration is important, but to those who appreciate nature's infinite beauty and complexity, it is but a detail.

I'm glad Americans are taking a more active interest in the environment these days. While we're warming up to global warming and other environmental issues, I hope we give the southwestern part of our backyard some attention, too.

Nonsense

2007-10-14T01:20:00.000-06:00

I wonder what I did before the Internet? I'm not sure. I remember I used to read Rolling Stone. Anything else? Probably, but it escapes me right now.

It's after midnight on Sunday morning and I'm writing in my blog. I wonder what I did before I got a laptop? It's only been two months since I got it. Did I really use that old desktop computer? That was at the beginning of the summer. Edge of my memory.

I like to write. I have a lot of books about writing that I think I might read someday. I mostly go on intuition. I don't use any particular technique. Certainly not on this post.

Actually, I only collect titles of books that are about writing.

Ten years ago, I never would have thought this was a fun to spend a Saturday night. Goofing around with the computer while Erin makes cards.

I'm knackered.

Time for bed.

A Formula for Happiness

2007-10-10T21:56:00.000-06:00

I like my job, but I'm paralyzed much of the time. Should I try to get to the dozens of emails I haven't answered? Work on that heap of papers that's been sitting there for a month? How about that REALLY sick-looking pile that's been there for three? It goes on.

When I saw that my difficulty to focus was due to looking at the undone junk around my desk all the time, I picked up a book that's been popular for the last couple of years - Getting Things Done, by Dave Allen.

The first thing I learned was to stop for a second and think about what exactly was stressing me out at that particular moment. That helped a lot. I would make a short list: that one email to John, get that proposal done, etc. Then I was finally able to focus on one thing at a time.

The other thing was to break big projects down into smaller ones. I made folders for certain things, organized certain aspects of a project into manageable pieces, and pretty soon a huge project looked like it might actually get done someday.

After working on those two techniques for a while, I realized how easy it is to get stressed out at the expense of losing myself in it. Trying something new helped increase my awareness, which for me is a part of happiness.

Sweating About Sweat

2007-10-09T21:56:00.000-06:00

I worry about exercise. I'm not nearly as preoccupied about it as I used to be, but it still gnaws.

This is more or less my routine these days: run eight miles on Sunday, walk three miles on Monday and Wednesday, and then...well..., that's sorta it.

I've really scaled down from doing the hardcore stuff like I used to, but I always think that I should be doing more. Yoga, stretching, stuff like that. Everyday.

I have no problem gearing up for my Sunday run. Though it's the hardest thing I engage in, I never have a problem getting motivated. And I've been dying to go on a backpacking trip or a long hike. I'm going on a fairly long 12-mile hike with a group next weekend, so maybe that will help.

But I can never get psyched to do much else. I like walking because it's relaxing. I don't feel bad anymore when I talk to people who are my own age or older and are still doing marathons, century rides, etc. I've done all of that stuff. I want something new.

But it's so dumb to worry about what I am or am not doing. I know some people who are constantly thinking about their next workout. It stresses me out to watch them stress out about it. I think, 'Wow, you'd probably be happier and live longer if you didn't work out.' Isn't that the point?

It's about balance, of course. I always tell people, "Just do what you enjoy." I need to take my own advice.

Death Proof

2007-10-08T21:59:00.000-06:00

Erin and I watched an interesting movie called Death Proof, Quentin Tarantino's latest. It was about a sociopath (played by Kurt Russell) who stalks young women and kills them in grisly ways with his car.

What I found intriguing about the movie was how Tarantino made Russell's car a actual character of the movie. I know that making inanimate objects into characters is nothing new, but the techniques used in this movie were especially striking.

The car was an old American muscle car, a 1970 Chevrolet Nova. The directors filmed the car from unusual and intimate angles that gave it a sinister presence. It was painted in a flat black, had a weird skull on the hood, a freaky hood ornament, and the exhaust sound was kind of scary, too.

The interior was the most macabre. Russell would murder his victims in a really bizarre way inside the car. Yikes.

Other parts of the movie acted as foils for the car. The rain and certain landscapes made the car come alive in unexpected ways.

But the movie is funny, too. I like Tarantino's movies for that reason. Scary and funny at the same time. Death Proof also has a great soundtrack and one pretty amazing lap dance. This one is a good Halloween flick.

Enough, already!

2007-10-07T21:37:00.000-06:00

I hate it when I get a song stuck in my head. It's almost always a bad song. Especially this one. This time it's "Hot Girls in Love" by Loverboy. Loverboy?! They were cheesy even when they were popular, let alone today.

Some say she do
Some say she don't

Some say she will
Some say she won't

Some say she can't
Well, I KNOW she can!

Hot girls in love
Yeah, I'm in love!

Huh?

It is so awful. Please, god, don't let me catch myself singing it on my walk down to the coffee shop tomorrow morning.

What's makes it even worse is that I can see still see lead singer Mike Reno strutting around in his little red leather outfit and white bandana on the MTV video that was so popular at the time. Ugh.

A few weeks ago it was "Tattooed Love Boys" by the Pretenders, but at least that song rocks. I was trying to play it on Guitar Hero at my friend Dan's house. Never mind how bad I was.

Maybe if I take enough Benadryl tonight, I won't dream about Mikey wooing his hot girls.

Indelible Raspberry

2007-10-06T11:45:00.007-06:00

When I was growing up, I rode my bike all the time. My bike had lots of chrome, a metallic silver seat and metallic green paint, a tall chopper-style "sissy" bar, mirrors on the handlebars, a speedometer, and a working headlight and taillight. It was pimp for its time (ca. 1976). I loved that bike.

I liked to clothespin playing cards onto the bike's front fork so they would flap into the spokes and make a loud engine sound. One day I found a fresh pack of cards and I carefully worked about eight or ten cards onto the fork. Within a few minutes, my bike sounded like a car with a supercharged V8 engine roaring down the street.

One particular time after I loaded up the playing cards, I pedaled my bike as hard as I could down the street. I was expert at "riding with no hands", so when I got up to about 25mph (according to my speedometer) I let go of the handlebars and just coasted. I basked in the noise, wind, and sun as I sped along. I felt so free.

However, I didn't see that I was approaching a patch of sand and before I knew it, I was on the ground. The wind was knocked out of me and I struggled to regain my senses. I looked over to my bike. It was a twisted wreck; shattered mirrors glinted in the sun, and playing cards were all over the place. My clothes were ripped, bloody, and ruined. I had a huge raspberry ("road rash" as it is sometimes called) on my right hip.

I limped home, blubbering and pushing my broken bike. My mom must have known this was coming because she didn't seemed surprised. She fixed me up and brought me a Coke as I sat down to do something safer for the rest of the afternoon - watch TV.

That day was one of the most poignant in my childhood. Did I learn anything about safety? Nope. That wreck was only one in a long line of similar follies that would be forthcoming. But it was one of those times in which I felt truly alive, that I was fragile, that I had feelings, that I really was a part of the world.

I wouldn't trade that day for anything.

Farewell, Summer

2007-10-03T23:28:00.000-06:00

These are some pictures I took of the yard just before everything started to fade. It's starting to cool off and the days are getting shorter. I love summer, but I enjoy fall even more.

Ten Minutes

2007-09-25T22:52:00.000-06:00

I've been wanting to blog for a while, but I let myself get bogged down. I was talking to Erin about it tonight and we both observed that I spend, I don't know, FOREVER writing a single post. She suggested I do a post that takes ten minutes. That includes editing and linking to any outside sources. I thought that sounded good, because it would help me focus and maybe post a little more often. I'd better get started because I'm already four minutes in!

My mom and dad called a few weeks ago. They were missing me and I can see why. They live about 15 miles away but I only talk to them maybe once every two months. I'm going to change that.

Mom and Dad retired about a year and a half ago. They're trying to find their place in the world at ages 60 and 63. My dad told me a story I had never heard before. When I was 2 or 3, he took me down to Union Station, the big train station that still exists in downtown Denver. He told me that we went to watch the trains, but they weren't running much anymore.

Dad said, "Come on, Gar. I guess they're not coming anymore." And we went home.

Dad told the story with fondness. I never knew.

Time over.

On Reading

2007-09-19T09:04:00.000-06:00

I've had a realization about myself as a reader. A few months ago, my friend Malady invited me to join the small book club she and our mutual friend Greg had created some years ago. I'm pretty sure Greg drives what the group is going to read because the books are usually very long and very hard. Indeed, Greg has referred to himself as a "masochist reader."

This year's book was Against the Day, by Thomas Pynchon. It is a dense, whopper of a tome weighing in at over 1,000 pages. I was enthusiastic at first, but after slogging through 220 pages, I began to drift and decided to abandon the project.

I told Erin about my experience and, in her usual objective way, she told me, "I wondered why you had agreed to read that book. You always get restless after about five pages, so how did you think you would get through that thing?" I responded like any self-respecting guy would—I got defensive and rebuffed the comment.

But, alas, Erin was right. I thought about my experience with Pynchon and how I approach books in general. It occurred to me that I don't actually read books. Instead, I "visit" books. I have not read a 100+ page book from cover to cover in years - even fiction that I really like. I skip around, catching images here, picking up ideas there.

Dozens of books pass through my hands during the course of a month. For many, I do no more than look at the dust jacket and table of contents. For the rest, it's likely that I'll read only 20% of the actual text. My method of reading never bothered me before—I always seem to remember something significant about all the books I've visited, no matter how transient my experience with them had been. Besides, Abe Lincoln read like this and Annie Dillard practices it today. Both of them seemed to have turned out OK.

But I was troubled by my book club experience. An obvious problem was that I had to tell Greg and Malady that I was throwing in the towel. What would they think? But more importantly, I realized that I had lost some ability or desire to read works that required sustained effort and concentration.

As any self-respecting guy would do, I blamed something other than myself for this apparent deficiency in my mental powers. I blamed the Internet. I'm a news feed and blog junkie. If feeds don't have a title that immediately grab me, I pass them by. If blog posts are longer than four short paragraphs, I get impatient.

But I've always cared about good content. I've recently spent quality time with Harold Pinter's The Caretaker, Winston Churchill's Painting as a Pastime, and the Book of Ecclesiastes from the original 1611 text of the King James Bible. And yes, I know each of them are less than 100 pages.

So, I'm going to start training for the big books again. I've put Against the Day back on hold at the library and will rejoin Malady where I left off (Greg has long since finished the book and moved on to some new and exciting torture). If nothing else, Pynchon will certainly be a good training ground for Dante and Proust. I just have to remember to use proper lifting technique when I go to pick up the book tonight.

Conscious Living

2007-09-14T22:51:00.000-06:00

One of my great joys is the bird feeder I got for my birthday a few years ago. It's one of those big ones with a seven-foot steel pole and accommodations for four feeders. We have some huge pine trees just a few feet away from the feeder and I just love to watch the finches, house sparrows, blue jays, flickers, and black-capped chickadees swoop down from the trees for some food and to socialize with their buddies.

There's a sunflower feeder on the very top of the pole and I have to reach up on my toes to bring it down and fill it with fresh sunflower seeds. I have to do this every day during the summer because the birds gorge themselves and drain the sunflower seeds in no time. I've seen as many as seven birds at one time on that particular feeder.

Feeding the birds has heightened my awareness of their activity. Usually, it sounds like a huge party out there - birds flying in and out a rate that make our yard seem like nature's version of LAX. The birds eat voraciously and chirp enthusiastically.

But yesterday morning I could tell something had changed. I was doing some laundry before I went to work and I noticed the jays were going berserk with their shrieking. So, I looked out the window at the feeder and there was a huge red-tailed hawk standing on the top of the sunflower feeder!

At first, I thought, "how did a statue get on top of the feeder?" because the hawk was perfectly still. It was a beautiful, majestic, and had obviously stopped by for a little bird snack. All of the smaller birds had bolted into the trees, but the jays (who don't seem to be afraid of anything) stood on some nearby branches and 'yelled' at the hawk to leave the neighborhood. The hawk just ignored them, stayed for a few minutes, then flew away. I really wanted to get a photo, but I couldn't find the camera in time.

Actually, red-tailed hawks are common in our area, but they prefer the open fields to the north of our house. Each spring, I make a point to spend some time in those fields, hoping to see one of the momma hawks teaching her babies to fly. It's a quite a sight - the mom gracefully circles high in the air, while the juveniles desperately flap their wings and try to keep up. The little ones fly wildly without any sense of direction and as soon as they quit flapping their wings to try to glide like their mom, they drop like rocks. Then they regain themselves, try again, and mom flies down to coach them. It looks exhausting, but it's beautiful, peaceful, and funny at the same time.

Some things remind me that there's a lot of life going on outside my tiny part of the world. The birds are among them.

Notable News

2007-08-28T22:34:00.000-06:00

I thought I would make mention about some of the interesting news feeds I've received recently.

Politics and the Environment: I was so excited to hear about an environmental victory in Colorado, as temporary as it might be. First it was the oil shale boom of the early 1980s, now the beautiful Roan Plateau (just west of Rifle) is being threatened. It looked like the Roan was going to be completely tilled under by oil and gas companies for natural gas, but perhaps the area will remain relatively untouched. Still, I'd better plan a backpacking trip there before something bad happens. Keep buying hybrid cars and take an interest in your local environmental issues. I should take my own advice.

Historical Preservation: Chicago's Cook County Hospital, built in 1914 and the inspiration for the show ER, was threatened with demolition, but is going to be saved. In its early days, the hospital was famous for providing medical treatment for the masses. It's a gorgeous building and will be turned into offices. What a cool place it will be to work!

I've never heard of this Baltimore theatre, but I'm partial to things built in the year I was born. "Brutalist" architecture sounds so groovy!

Miscellaneous: Erin got a big beading catalog in the mail today and I almost yelled, "Oh yeah! The new Sears Christmas catalog is here!" I hadn't even thought of those catalogs in probably twenty years, or even looked at one in thirty, so I'm not sure where that crazy thought came from. The mind (at least mine) is a freaky thing, that's for sure.

That's it for now. We're going camping in the hills behind Pikes Peak for the weekend, so this will be my last post until after Labor Day. I'm sure half the world will be crushed.

Jack Be Nimble, Jack Be Quick

2007-08-24T09:36:00.000-06:00

I've signed up for a lot of upcoming professional networking events. Not necessarily because I'm feeling expansive and want to, but because I'm trying to survive my job. I'm grappling with all kinds of changes at work - revising policies and use procedures for archive and rare book collections, managing the construction of a space that will hold 30,000 books, supervising three employees and two volunteers, getting a photo digitization project off the ground, integrating the library's operations with a new museum, rewriting a grant, spearheading a general fundraising effort, starting an endowment, and making the library hip with Web 2.0.

I really like my job and I want to do well. But I need some help. Especially from people who have expertise in the areas I mentioned. Hence the calendar full of classes, seminars, and meetings with professionals who work in cultural institutions.

But I was getting a little worried about the impression I made on people when I introduced myself. I needed some polish. I told Erin about a particularly bad stumble I recently had with a colleague, and she suggested I try the "30-second commercial." My commercial should have three parts:

1. What I do for a living
2. What I'm passionate about/what my life purpose is
3. What I'm looking for

I liked this idea because it had a structure. That's a good thing for ramblers like me. I gave it a try:

#1 - "I am a library director."

Um, yeah. That's about as boring as it gets. No wonder people were wandering off after a minute of conversation.

Erin and I worked on my introductory sentence and came up with this:

"I preserve our cultural heritage."

Now, I could groove on that! It didn't feel weird to say and it had enormous ice-breaking potential. I fantasized for a moment and saw crowds of people flocking around me and asking, "Really! How do you do that?" I immediately thought of five interesting ways I could tell my story.

I'll get back to you about Part 2 (what I'm passionate about/what my life purpose is) because I haven't entirely figured it out. It can't be more than two or three sentences long because I have to pack all three parts into 30 seconds. Again, that's tough for ramblers like me.

But check out Part 3:

"I want to meet people who do similar work. People such as museum curators, librarians who work with collections of national significance, and technology experts who work in cultural institutions."

Part 3 will engage my listener by making her/him think about her/his own network of people. It's an opportunity to discuss people and topics I might have in common with the person to whom I am speaking.

I'm psyched about the commercial not only for the streamlined intro, but it also makes me reflect upon what I'm doing with my life. Am I doing things I care about? Do those things have value to other people? Am I somehow making the world a better place to live? These questions are paramount. I didn't spend twelve years finishing college and grad school and changing careers just so I could live for the weekend.

The Only Way To Be

2007-08-22T22:01:00.000-06:00

In the last two weeks, I've mistaken lotion for hair gel, got blasted in the face with ice cubes as I was draining a glass of soda, and returned from the basement with paper towels when I had intended to get a bottle of wine.

So I'm feeling pretty good about something I did right. My friend Malady nominated me for a "Nice Matters" award! Malady and some of her friends have been blogging about a book called The Power of Nice: How to Conquer the Business World with Kindness. The book's authors promote a heightened awareness of doing (and recognizing) good deeds because they'll ultimately give a boost to your professional and personal lives. I really like leadership books and I'm adding this one to my reading list.

In the spirit of "Nice", I'm going to recognize a few folks for the good things they've done for me:

Greg and Cindy for making me laugh
Erin for showing me that life really is a beautiful experience
Emily and Dan for inspiring me to push myself when I'd rather sit on the couch and watch mindless TV
Malady for showing me that friendships are worth investing in
Lindsey for her wisdom
Jamie for being my colleague, friend, and Saturday morning breakfast date for 14 years

I don't care that I just marked up my pants with a pen because I thought the lid was on. This is the way to end the day!

The Mind At Three Miles Per Hour

2007-08-20T12:05:00.000-06:00

It's amazing how different the world looks on foot. I've been reading a book called Wanderlust: A History of Walking and it's inspired me to become a pedestrian again. And it's about time, too. We've lived in our house almost seven years and I've seen embarrassingly little of my own 'hood.

But that's changing quickly. Since becoming Arvada's newest walking fool, I've been discovering all kinds of hidden lanes and landscapes. My part of town was primarily farm country prior to WWII and as Denver's suburbs saw explosive growth in the years following the war, the City of Arvada parceled out the old farmland for streets and homes.

Fortunately, the residents of that time had a sense of continuity and preservation. There is still a small farm just up the street from where we live. There's something soothing about being able to walk up the street a few blocks and pet some cows. We're lucky to have one of the area's last remnants of shortgrass prairie at Majestic View Nature Center , just a short distance away.

When I was growing up, downtown Arvada was in terrible shape - dilapidated buildings and vacant lots. In the last five years, however, the Arvada Urban Renewal Authority has made the area a great place to stroll. I love the seating deck and gardens AURA built under the old water tower.

Until recently, I thought golf courses were generally a monumental waste of land and water. But after a few walks around the perimeter of Indian Tree Golf Course, I've begun to appreciate the place as a beautiful example of landscape architecture. I find myself following the goings-on at DenverInfill, too.

I haven't had my camera on most of my recent outings, but the above shot is one I took a few days ago on the Clear Creek pathway in Golden.

If you haven't in a while, explore your own neighborhood on foot. Tell me what you find. I'll bet you'll find plenty worth a second visit.

Jar of Muse

2007-08-14T18:09:00.000-06:00

Erin gave me the best gift for our anniversary. It's a jar full of handmade cards, each with a thought-provoking quote printed upon it. The way it works is that once per week, I reach into the jar and pull a new card out at random. I've been making a stack of them on my desk, with the newest one on top.

Each card is unique in design and my eye is automatically drawn toward the one on top of the stack. Their visual and tactile appeal make it impossible not to pick up the cards and reflect upon the messages' meanings. Because there are 52 cards in the jar, I have a whole year's worth of inspiration to look forward to!

I don't know how much time and effort Erin put into my gift, but it was surely a lot. All of the cards have a quote by someone I admire or simply a quote Erin knew I would like. This photo shows the first four weeks' worth, including one by Jimmy Carter (one of the coolest guys ever) and Thomas Paine, the author of Common Sense. I just love the whole concept - I'm going to head home and give my sweetie another hug and smooch!

We also went to a new restaurant to celebrate our special day. I'll let Erin tell you about that on her new blog.

I'll Feel Better If You Just Go Away

2007-08-08T15:45:00.000-06:00

I hate going to the doctor. I pretty much have to be dying before I'll even consider going, which explains why I hadn't stepped foot in (or even made a phone call to) the office in five years.

I would have gone ten years this last time except that I had sliced the hell out of my pinky on Thanksgiving weekend in 2001. But for a number of reasons, I have had to visit my least favorite place in the world at least six times in the last four months. I had gone so many times that I was developing a crush on the stunning Indian woman who worked the front desk. But as lovely as she was, I was desperate to put an end to our imaginary relationship.

I thought, 'Please, doc. I don't care if there's a Starbucks downstairs (the only thing besides the receptionist that gave me any solace), let's wrap this up!' The doc ordered a complete blood panel to cover any remaining issues I might have.

I got the results back in the mail and it said my cholesterol was high. How could this be? My diet consists primarily of coffee and red bell peppers (kind of a joke, but not entirely untrue) so I was baffled. So, on my frigging sixth visit or whatever number it was, I asked the doc about my high cholesterol. "No," she said. "The number is high in a good way. In fact, I'm thrilled with all of the results. The only condition you suffer from is congenital longevity."

I basked in her words as she went on. "Your heart, lungs, and BP are in excellent shape. Are you still running?" It seemed I was barely drinking age when I last her, so I was surprised she remembered. I replied, "Not like I used to, but yes, some. I'm trying to quit." She didn't laugh and just studied the chart. "Well, just keep doing whatever it is you're doing. But since you're 40, you should start coming in every two or three years, just to be safe."

Yeah, right. With news like that, you can bet it will be at least another five years. Unless I slice my pinky again.

Dan-o-mite Turns 30!

2007-08-01T15:08:00.000-06:00

My friend Dan celebrated his 30th birthday last Saturday with a big party. I met Dan just before he and his wife, Emily, got married two years ago. Erin used to work with Emily and they've been tight friends for a few years (see adorable pic above). The four of us became couples friends, then Dan and I formed our own friendship.

Dan is 6'3', built like Superman, and is a bona fide babe magnet, so he's good to have around for a number of reasons. In the photo above, Dan had scooped me up as easily he would a stapler (it was a pretty rowdy party. Think "sake bombs" and you'll start to get the idea). Heck, I would have a huge crush on Dan, but what would be the use? I'm no match for Emily.

I like Dan because he is one of the most thinking and feeling people I know. He always expresses himself in thoughtful ways - something that is a bitch for most of us guys. He's a mechanical engineer and can make even a lay person get excited about jet turbines. He has a passion for wind energy and is working on plans to build a wind farm in eastern Colorado.

And the gifts he got! Could that be a vintage Fender Stratocaster? Oh, I guess not. It's a toy called "Guitar Hero." But it has a whammy bar - YEAH! Dan treated everyone to a concert in the basement later on.

Today is Dan's actual birthday. Happy Birthday, D!

From Me to You

2007-07-31T16:40:00.001-06:00

It's been almost eight months since Erin and I lost our dog, Rachel, to cancer. She was a part of our lives from the time we got her at six weeks old to the day we had to let her go - two days before her fourteenth birthday.

When Rachel was a puppy, her energy was unbounded and she would shred furniture, carpet, shoes, clothing, and anything else that wasn't made out of high-grade titanium. Even when she was in the house she had to be on a leash. If she was loose, she would immediately find new and exciting ways to get into trouble.

It was exhausting to live with an animal that was inexhaustible, so one day I told her, "Dude, that's it. I'm going to put the hurt on you." I started taking her with me on my runs. At first, a half mile would do the trick - she would conk out when we got home and Erin and I would have an hour of blissful silence.

But Rachel was a natural runner and it wasn't long before we were regularly doing five-milers (including one epic eight-miler). She would pull along like a Ferrari in fifth gear, holding her leash in her mouth, and barking at passers-by. But she had become immune to the running "drug" and would dump over the trash or pull a entire pizza off the kitchen counter within minutes of returning home.

Sometimes, Rachel and I would drag race at a local football field. I would get about a 40-yard head start while Erin restrained Rachel. When I was close to halfway down the field, Erin would let her go and it wasn't long before the little fur ball would tear past me, barking her ass off and having the best time. Erin and I would laugh so hard we couldn't breathe.

Rachel was like a cat in some ways. She was aloof and wasn't one for a lot of cuddling. But she always loved to be with us and we loved being with her. By the time she was six, she had begun to mellow a bit. I still miss her companionship on my runs and walks. I probably logged over 1,500 miles with her.

We don't know if we'll get another pet, but we miss having one sometimes. In the meantime, our friends Emily and Dan let us "borrow" Mercedes, their black lab. Erin's mom lets us borrow her Chihuahua, Rufio. Erin's sister let us borrow Milo, her Rat Terrier. Milo came over for a visit this week and that's him making himself comfortable in Rachel's bed. Rachel wasn't crazy about other dogs, but she and Milo were buds.

After Rachel died, a friend gave us a card with Rachel's picture and this passage by Rumi:

Your grief for what you've lost holds a mirror up to where you're bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look and instead, here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.

Just missing you today, little girl.

King of the Mountain

2007-07-30T12:29:00.000-06:00

How many people do you know who have their very own crown? Take a look at the one my friend Malady made for me! Malady, one of my favorite people in the whole wide world, gave this gem to me when she was visiting in Denver a few weeks ago.

Malady mentioned in a post last week that I'm the director of a mountaineering library. She's an avid crafter and wanted to give me something that would help me settle into my new job. The crown is modeled after a mountain panorama, complete with a bear, mountain climber, and a hut. You can't see it in this photo, but there is also an American flag on the high "summit." The crown is embellished with lots of cool paper, glitter borders, and a big, glittery "G" on the front. The whole thing totally, totally rocks!

My assistant took this picture of me while I was in the stacks and ruling my kingdom. I got some bewildered looks from some patrons, but who cares when you're the king?

Malady has built a vibrant community of like-minded people on her crafting blog, so be sure to stop by if you'd like to get involved. It seems she has at least a half-dozen swaps going on at any one time: art doll hats, Halloween-related, bucket swaps, vintage kitchen, knitting (I can't help but sneak a peek at the Sexy Knitters Club once in a while), and the tiara/crown swap.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some "subjects" I have to attend to. Thank you, Malady!

A Unique Pregnancy

2007-07-30T08:54:00.000-06:00

I think I'm guilty of this.

Two Days for the Soul

2007-07-28T13:20:00.000-06:00

Spending a few days in the woods does a lot to recharge my batteries. Earlier this week, Erin and I drove up to the Lost Creek Wilderness Area to do just that.

We drove US285 south from Denver to Kenosha Pass, a popular trailhead for the Colorado Trail. If you've never driven over the pass, the first time can be a breathtaking experience; one minute you're driving through the mountains and the next you're descending into flat, treeless South Park.

South Park (yes, THAT South Park) is an ancient lake bed that covers hundreds of square miles. As we entered the area, we had wonderful views of three of Colorado's 14,000 mountains - Mounts Democrat, Bross, and Lincoln.

We turned onto a dirt road that led back into Pike National Forest. It was 20 miles of washboard (washboard so bad that it made my truck's stereo pop out of the dashboard!) to Lost Park Campground.

Erin and I are "serious" car campers, which means we like places we can drive into but are also truly isolated. Lost Park was a fine place, but there were too many people that day for our liking. So, we backtracked a few miles and found a forest service road that seemed passable.

The road was pretty rough and I quickly realized I was asking a lot from our small, 2WD drive truck with a 4-banger and street tires. But we soon found a good spot that even had a fire ring. We set up camp and didn't see or hear anyone for two whole days!

We just hung out, read a lot (including the book I'm reading with Malady and Greg - a tome so big that it probably accounted for 30% of our total gear weight), played Scrabble, and went on a nature hike.

Erin saw an elk while we were on the hike, but I was too busy stuffing my face with potato chips and I missed it. Not to brag, but I'm a kick-ass campfire builder. If we didn't have the canopy, I would have squashed so many flies and mosquitoes with my book that it would have been covered in bug guts. The library would have certainly made me pay for it.

We identified one new bird, the Three-Toed Woodpecker. It's a species that likes to pick insects out of dead trees. The one we saw could down-climb a vertical surface like nobody's business - it could hop down tree trunks without flapping its wings even once! He was fascinating to watch.

We heard a wolf crying at dusk the first night - eerie and beautiful at the same time, especially when you're in the woods all by your lonesome. We tried not to think about the movie An American Werewolf in London. "Don't go out to the moors, boys." Too late, dude. We were already committed.

Erin is an outstanding nature photographer and she took the incredible night shot you see above.

It was fun to get away with my sweetie for a few days. The Lost Creek Wilderness Area has over 100 miles of trails, so we're definitely going back!