I find that life experience is the most powerful muse that a person can have. Its through certain experiences that we learn about ourselves and measure our life on the scale that we choose, whether this be professionally, socially, or anything else. And lately I have been wondering where my experiences of the past two months in San Diego have left me on my life path.
More to come
Monday, October 12, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Yellowstone Day 1
Over the past month I have started on the proverbial ‘new chapter’ of my life. This ‘chapter’ comes in between graduating from university and contributing member of society. I spent part of this time in Ann Arbor but most of it back home in Harrisburg, PA, periodically working but mostly just lounging around the house and pool lackadaisically. Once August came around I was itching to get out of Harrisburg, not because I hated living with my parents after living with friends for the past four years, but that Harrisburg is an unattractive place for a 22 year old.
Earlier in the summer I was give the opportunity to go to India and Thailand for about a month with a friend from my semester abroad. However, if I went I probably would have squandered all of my money on the trip. Instead I decided to visit my one of my closest childhood friends, Ethan, in Yellowstone National Park, where he was working at one of the lodges. This seemed like the vacation for me, free accommodations, inexpensive food and the thrill of the great open outdoors. I arrived on a Thursday after spending the night in DC with another of one of my closest friends, Jon. I flew in to Jackson Hole, WY (actually the airport was in Moose Junction, but trivial little fact) a small town nestled at the base of the Grand Teton mountain range and the national park of the same name. As we were flying there wasn’t much on the ground to look at, however, as our plane was 10 minutes before landing the pilot banked the plane left and boojakasha! out of nowhere the Tetons appeared in its all encompassing glory. The magnificence of the mountains leaves mere mortals in awe of its size and beauty.
Before I go any further you need to know a little about Ethan. We met and became friends in the fifth grade (my first year in public school); we were introduced by another one of our friends Jahred. Throughout middle and high school we became really close friends and after high school Ethan would spend his summers in national parks (Yosemite, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon) photographing in his words “beautiful country.” He is also one of the best storytellers that I have ever met, he makes everyone laugh with his colorful way of recounting the truth with just the right amount of twist. This also comes out in his photography, though nothing to laugh at, he is an artist who can capture epic photos in digital and film. Ethan can also hold a conversation with anyone, I asked him a few times after he would be speaking with someone if he knew them, he would answer no and he was being friendly.
As soon as I walked off the plane and into the airport, Ethan met me with a grin and a hug. We gathered my bags (the first off of the luggage carousel) and headed to a lookout off the road to get some photos of the Tetons. As we were shooting clouds began to form overhead, and dropped a little rain on us. We waited it out for about ten minutes then continued taking pictures for another ten minutes. We stopped at Old Faithful (Ol’ Filthy as Ethan calls it), in between Jackson and Canyon Village where Ethan lives, to see it explode and the other geysers and vents around it. Yellowstone sits on top of an inactive volcano, which heats up subsurface waters to boiling temperatures that then seeps, spews and spits up from geysers and vents across the park, of which Ol’ Filth is the most well known. As luck would have it we pulled into the parking lot just as Old Faithful was going off and would have to wait about 90 minutes before the next eruption. This worked out great for Ethan who wanted to get the erupting column of boiling sulfuric water as the sun was setting, casting shadows and marvelous oranges and reds in the dusk sky.
After another hour of driving we finally reached Ethan’s dorm that is identical to most college dorms with small rooms, bunk beds and communal bathrooms. Luckily, his roommate had been kicked out and only Ethan lived there giving me the top bunk to sleep in.
Earlier in the summer I was give the opportunity to go to India and Thailand for about a month with a friend from my semester abroad. However, if I went I probably would have squandered all of my money on the trip. Instead I decided to visit my one of my closest childhood friends, Ethan, in Yellowstone National Park, where he was working at one of the lodges. This seemed like the vacation for me, free accommodations, inexpensive food and the thrill of the great open outdoors. I arrived on a Thursday after spending the night in DC with another of one of my closest friends, Jon. I flew in to Jackson Hole, WY (actually the airport was in Moose Junction, but trivial little fact) a small town nestled at the base of the Grand Teton mountain range and the national park of the same name. As we were flying there wasn’t much on the ground to look at, however, as our plane was 10 minutes before landing the pilot banked the plane left and boojakasha! out of nowhere the Tetons appeared in its all encompassing glory. The magnificence of the mountains leaves mere mortals in awe of its size and beauty.
Before I go any further you need to know a little about Ethan. We met and became friends in the fifth grade (my first year in public school); we were introduced by another one of our friends Jahred. Throughout middle and high school we became really close friends and after high school Ethan would spend his summers in national parks (Yosemite, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon) photographing in his words “beautiful country.” He is also one of the best storytellers that I have ever met, he makes everyone laugh with his colorful way of recounting the truth with just the right amount of twist. This also comes out in his photography, though nothing to laugh at, he is an artist who can capture epic photos in digital and film. Ethan can also hold a conversation with anyone, I asked him a few times after he would be speaking with someone if he knew them, he would answer no and he was being friendly.
As soon as I walked off the plane and into the airport, Ethan met me with a grin and a hug. We gathered my bags (the first off of the luggage carousel) and headed to a lookout off the road to get some photos of the Tetons. As we were shooting clouds began to form overhead, and dropped a little rain on us. We waited it out for about ten minutes then continued taking pictures for another ten minutes. We stopped at Old Faithful (Ol’ Filthy as Ethan calls it), in between Jackson and Canyon Village where Ethan lives, to see it explode and the other geysers and vents around it. Yellowstone sits on top of an inactive volcano, which heats up subsurface waters to boiling temperatures that then seeps, spews and spits up from geysers and vents across the park, of which Ol’ Filth is the most well known. As luck would have it we pulled into the parking lot just as Old Faithful was going off and would have to wait about 90 minutes before the next eruption. This worked out great for Ethan who wanted to get the erupting column of boiling sulfuric water as the sun was setting, casting shadows and marvelous oranges and reds in the dusk sky.
After another hour of driving we finally reached Ethan’s dorm that is identical to most college dorms with small rooms, bunk beds and communal bathrooms. Luckily, his roommate had been kicked out and only Ethan lived there giving me the top bunk to sleep in.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
No Use For A Title
When I started this blog I intended to write more than two entries, but as life goes, I forgot about it and to be truthful haven't had much content to add. This is due partially to the uneventful weeks at home and the lack of motivation and and effort to write anything. But, as I lie in my bed unable to fall asleep I deem this the perfect time to restart my grasp at fame in the blogosphere.
So where to start? The past 8 weeks have been filled with days of watching TV, reading, working for my pops, swimming, running, biking and working out. I have almost finished the entire series of the West Wing (watching mostly online) and have thrown out most of my old music and replaced it with a combination of classic rock, the Beatles and techno. I drove 20 hours to Chicago and back in less than a week for what can be classified as a gluteus maximus rendezvous with an older woman. While working one day I had to pull weeds/vines off the side of a house. Only ulnucky for me they turned out to be poison ivy and one of the reasons I am unable to fall asleep peacefully now. That is all for now. If you haven't seen the Hangover, go see it, you'll get an ab workout from laughing.
So where to start? The past 8 weeks have been filled with days of watching TV, reading, working for my pops, swimming, running, biking and working out. I have almost finished the entire series of the West Wing (watching mostly online) and have thrown out most of my old music and replaced it with a combination of classic rock, the Beatles and techno. I drove 20 hours to Chicago and back in less than a week for what can be classified as a gluteus maximus rendezvous with an older woman. While working one day I had to pull weeds/vines off the side of a house. Only ulnucky for me they turned out to be poison ivy and one of the reasons I am unable to fall asleep peacefully now. That is all for now. If you haven't seen the Hangover, go see it, you'll get an ab workout from laughing.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Home Cooking
It has been a little over a week since my return to Harrisburg, the land of my parents. Though I consider Harrisburg my hometown and hate when people put it down, I no longer consider Harrisburg my home. Initially, this came as a surprise to me because I have a strong connection to the place and the people here, but after three and a half years (one semester in TLV) of living in Ann Arbor I can no longer call Harrisburg my home, it has switched to my parent's home. After moving out, they switched rooms around, added a nice deck and given my brother reign over the entire basement. So where is my home? I am going to be a bit of a nomad, though I don't feel like a Jack Kerouac character from "On the Road," traveling around with Harrisburg being my base to come back to when I need a break from the road.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Retirement Age
After the cordial helloes and how ya doings the typical conversation goes usually as follows: Do you have a job? What are you doing next? These are good questions and show legitimate curiosity and caring by the individuals who ask, however, with all the questions I am reminded of one of my college roommates, Josh, aka the grand inquisitor. Josh earned this nickname by, as the nickname suggests, being an inquisitive sole and always asking questions. He would be the supreme contestant on the show "Whose Line is it Anyways" in the game where you were only allowed to speak by asking questions. Anyway, I regress, my answers to these questions usually have me in an awkward limbo where I try to tell people that I am taking it easy, relaxing and generally not doing much of anything productive to society. But I am sure to mention that I plan on looking for a job, I don't want to be seen as too much of a sloth. I have likened this in between period (college and the real world) as an early retirement; my days are very similar to the average retiree. I wake up in the morning at no particular time, somedays 10 when I am wanting an early start to my day, but most days closer to noon. I lounge around in my underwear, read the paper or online news source, check my investments, eat a leisurely breakfast and ease my way into the day. I consider the day productive if I run an errand or two that I need to get done, nothing flashy, just the changing of oil, return a pair of shoes, groceries, that sort of stuff. I eat another meal in between my brunch and dinner, usually a salad of sorts, egg salad, tuna salad, chicken salad.
Then comes the hard part of my day. Picking up the guitar that I bought two years ago and trying to learn enough of any song that I would feel comfortable to tell anyone that I actually play the guitar. I strum for a while, until my finger tips start to hurt from pressing down on the wire strings or until the sounds that comes from the guitar can no longer be identified as being played on an acoustic guitar. Here is where I go to the gym, some may say this is for keeping in shape and being healthy, in fact it is one of the best places to socialize. I have been going to the same Jewish Community Center (JCC) for the past 21 (almost 22) years and when walking from the front door to the gym I am guaranteed to encounter someone who will barrage me with the questions from above. I have no good real answer to the question, only that I am retired and waiting for my AARP card.
Then comes the hard part of my day. Picking up the guitar that I bought two years ago and trying to learn enough of any song that I would feel comfortable to tell anyone that I actually play the guitar. I strum for a while, until my finger tips start to hurt from pressing down on the wire strings or until the sounds that comes from the guitar can no longer be identified as being played on an acoustic guitar. Here is where I go to the gym, some may say this is for keeping in shape and being healthy, in fact it is one of the best places to socialize. I have been going to the same Jewish Community Center (JCC) for the past 21 (almost 22) years and when walking from the front door to the gym I am guaranteed to encounter someone who will barrage me with the questions from above. I have no good real answer to the question, only that I am retired and waiting for my AARP card.
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