canada haunts me

brewing blog on the way

2011-07-03T06:51:00.001-07:00

I'm starting a blog about home brewing soon. Stay tuned.

Feeling a bit proud

2007-01-06T08:12:00.000-08:00

Last night I spent a manly hour drinking beer, listening to rock music, and sewing. That's right, sewing. A couple of months ago I returned home to realize that my jeans felt a bit draftier than before. Upon further inspection I noticed they had a 6" rip from the waist and down the right rear pocket. While classy, this is not the fashion statement I wanted to start. For the past two months these jeans (only a couple of weeks old at the time) have been draped across my office chair begging for attention which they finally received last night.

Now, you must keep in mind that I haven't stitched anything since, well, ever. Both my mother and my sister are excellent with needles of all sorts, but my throbbing thumb and index finger from countless stabbings tell me I am not.

The first several minutes proved to be quite unproductive, but after some practice (and more beer) I started to get the hang of it. I'm not sure what sort of stitch I used (wikipedia's articles on the matter don't show pictures, so it was difficult to identify), but it seemed to do the job well. Observe!

Tagged by my family

2007-01-05T17:37:00.000-08:00

Both my sister and cousin tagged me for this weird task:

Find the nearest book

Name the book & the author

Turn to page 123

Go to the fifth full sentence on the page. Copy out the next three sentences and post to your blog

Tag three more folks

Don't think of me as a nerd, but...

Book: Python in a nutshell: a desktop quick reference by Alex Martelli.

The sentences: "However, removing circular dependencies is almost always easier than ensuring bomb-proof ordering while keeping such circular dependencies. sys.modules Entries The build-in __import__ finds an entry that is already in the sys.modules, it will try to use that value, whatever type of object it may be. The import and from statements rely on the __import__ function, so therefore they too can end up using objects that are not modules."

I tag Nick!, Jacob and Heather.

Bob Loblaw law blog

2006-12-17T09:13:00.000-08:00

Since returning to Blacksburg from Boston, I realize that I have nothing to talk about... so I have decided to completely change the way I think about blogging. Most people I know have a purpose for creating a web log or journal. I, however, do not. Nothing about my daily life is interesting or meaningful. As a result, this blog will change. It will no longer have any content of relevance or value (which isn't a big step up from before). I therefore leave you with a conversation I had with a friend of mine had online the other day. It's cheap and provides mild thrills.

monkey1: are you coming in for that jesus' birthday thing ?
canadahauntsme: yeah. it's a surprise party, right? moses is going to jump out of a cake
canadahauntsme: the thing is, i just don't know what to get the son of God. he just doesn't need anything
monkey1: its hard to buy for sombody who created everything.
canadahauntsme: exactly
monkey1: its like hmmm god, can you mayby NOT create something today so i can get you a present.
canadahauntsme: but then, like, how can you get it? cuz if he didn't create it you sure as hell aren't going to find it anywhere
canadahauntsme: and even if you did, all the stores would be out of them
canadahauntsme: you'd go to wal-mart and ask the clerk "do you have a frazmajam?" and they'd be like "dude, we sold out of those a week ago," and then you just end up buying jesus a snow globe or something...
monkey1: well maybe he can create a machine that will create one thing that he never created and then you can give it to him
canadahauntsme: hmm... I think you're on to something

2006-11-02T16:35:00.000-08:00

Projector for the wvu louisville game

Best weekend of the year

2006-10-29T19:55:00.000-08:00

This is a bit depressing, but I just had one of the best weekends in, well, months. Want to know what I did?

Nothing.

I turned off my phone, stopped checking email, and didn't go anywhere. I stayed at home, rented movies, ate frozen pizza and Halloween cookies, slept way to much, and enjoyed every single minute of it.

Bit o' luck

2006-10-09T15:31:00.000-07:00

This weekend was really crumby and today started out no different; I overslept and wound up snapping at some of my co-workers (or at least being disagreeable).

To make things worse, I got home at 5pm only to realize that my car wasn't in the driveway! *GASP* I instantly remembered that I had driven it to school to move some computer hardware. *SIGH* Then I remembered that I don't have a weekday parking pass! *GASP* Then I remembered that it's Columbus Day. *SIGH* This all happened within the course of several seconds, mind you.

When I returned to school a few minutes ago I found my car ticket-free and looking oh so snappy. I guess even bad days can turn out ok in the end sometimes.

Is this it?

2006-10-07T20:13:00.000-07:00

I'm down. Saturday night. No date. Nothing going on. I actually went to a poker party, but it ended far sooner than it should have. It's the fastest way to lose $5.

My friend told me last month she is getting a divorce, but it wasn't until this week that she learned that her husband has been cheating on her for several years. Another one of my friends suffered a recent break-up. Honestly, I am losing all faith in relationships. I can count the number of stable ones on one hand, and that is no lie. I keep thinking to myself, "Is this it? Is this as good as life gets before I either die or get a mindless job that squeezes every ounce of passion and creativity out of me?"

I think it's time for screwdrivers and Simpsons DVDs before I get (more) depressed.

More cat trouble

2006-10-04T21:24:00.000-07:00

Dan's other cat, Rogue, came home one day last week with the fur on her head matted down with some sap or something. Yesterday we noticed she was trying to scrape it off and had managed to cut herself, so we bandaged her up. She was NOT happy about it.

In loving memory

2006-10-03T18:50:00.000-07:00

Last monday I went home in the afternoon to play the keyboard in the garage. After about 10 minutes I stepped outside to find Cheech, my roommate Dan's gray cat, lying on the ground. Except for hyperventilating, he was not moving; nor was he blinking or responding to me in any way. I gave Dan a call and took Cheech inside and laid him on the ottoman. He's had health problems in the past, but nothing like erratic breathing or complete unresponsiveness. Dan called several vets, but couldn't get an appointment for another couple of hours. By this time he had clamed down... but someho I could tell this wasn't a good sign. I left for a meeting at school and upon returning home, Dan told me Cheech hadn't made the trip to the vet. He informed me that eventually he just grabbed Cheech to take him to the vet's office regardless of his later appointment, but that he stopped breathing in his arms before he could get the car out of the driveway.

Cheech had a good life, aside from a recurring embolism in his back that periodically caused his hind legs to not function. He lived his six years chasing birds and being admired by everyone with whom he came in contact. On cold winter nights he would curl up on my lap, my bed, or (failing those) lie directly on the heater vent, taking the room's heat for himself. His exact cause of death is unknown, and is buried in our back yard. His was loved and will be missed dearly.

2006-09-16T17:44:00.000-07:00

Carlos gets his groove on during poker. Personally i think he's bluffing.

Internet at home is hosed.

2006-09-09T16:45:00.000-07:00

So my roommate and I last year spent some time making this elaborate (Rube Goldbergian, if you will) system to get free internet at home. It consists of a home-brew high-gain antenna carefully placed on the roof which is fed into a wireless-B bridge, then a wireless-G router, both of which have their MAC addresses spoofed to trick the VT wireless LAN to think it's my laptop. The antenna we made consists of a DTV reflective satellite dish and a circular waveguide feed point made from, well... an old can of soup.

Anyway, sometime over the summer the signal cut out. Last week I found out why:

Needless to say I was rather surprised when I climbed on the roof to investigate. Anyone know what the RF characteristics of a nest of 30 hornets is? I'm betting not good.

Just for Suze

2006-09-09T16:30:00.000-07:00

Blogger.com has been mucking up my blog lately. It is, at the very least, upsetting. So this update is just for my dear sister who loves blogging more than I had ever anticipated =)

I passed my qualifying exam the first week of classes near the end of August despite the University being shut down the first day of classes due to a killer nut on the loose. I speak, of course, of Will Morva, the loveable Blacksburg townie we all knew to hang out in Bollo's and occasionally the Cellar. The strangest part was going to a party that weekend to meet a guy wearing a "William Morva is an asshole" t-shirt that had been made up by some Blacksburgians several years ago. The story goes like this: Morva used someone's credit card to run up a $200 bar tab. The victim made up the t-shirts to make back some of what he lost. It was both appropriate and a little disturbing to see someone wearing this shirt just days after the tragedy.

Amazing.

He will get the death penalty for sure... and I don't know what to think of that.

Back in Black(sburg)

2006-08-22T21:34:00.000-07:00

Sorry folks; blogger has been screwing up my blog. This one got hosed.

-------------------

Ok, I know it's been a while since I've posted; I'm so far behind I don't even know where to begin. Let me just say...

Returning to Virginia

2006-08-19T06:02:00.000-07:00

I wish I could write more, but I still have packing to do!

Consumer products will be our demise

2006-08-09T17:36:00.000-07:00

Taco bell dinner pack. Includes sauce and seasoning. "just add ground beef, lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, and sour cream." It's so easy! And now with "better flavor!"

Moblogging is fun

2006-08-08T11:00:00.000-07:00

Boston and the charles river from the Esplanade. Some of the sailboats were getting a pretty good tail wind. It's such a wonderful day to be out here.

2006-08-07T10:49:00.000-07:00

View of the state house at night.

Birthday cookies

2006-08-06T12:02:00.000-07:00

I forgot to share this with the blogosphere. I'd gotten some pretty cool birthday gifts, but this one took the cake... er cookie.

It really doesn't top the "bachelor chow" baseball shirt my sister got me, though. Nyah!

Saturday was also my friend Nick's birthday. Happy birthday, man. And no, you're not older than crap. Not that paleozoic petrified crap, anyway.

Kayaking Maine's Casco Bay

2006-08-05T13:03:00.000-07:00

So last weekend I took another adventure to Maine but this time with the intent of actually doing what I had originally planned to do: rent a kayak and paddle out into the Casco bay. I left the apartment in Mass. a little past 6:30am (coffee in hand) for the 2 hour drive. The marine service, Rings, run by the same family for some 40 years, opened at 8am. A few hours later I was on the water with gear in the bulkheads, a compass hanging from my neck, and a map in front of me.

Casco Bay is filled with many small islands, some of which are no bigger than my sister's back yard. Check out this video (20MB).

Keeping oriented wasn't so easy, though, especially considering that the waves would turn the kayak off course. Luckily, though, I had a retractable rudder on the back could be controlled by the feet. That seemed to help a lot, but slowed my pace down some. Unfortunately, I didn't take any pictures from the kayak itself for fear I would drop my camera in the drink, but some of the views from the shore were pretty incredible.

After paddling about 3 1/2 nautical miles my shoulders decided it was time to find a place to camp. I ended up on one of the Goslings; little islands south of the larger Goose Island (cute).

The next morning, I decided to sleep in, but after some time my stomach told me it was time to catch some breakfast. Remember last time I was here and caught that striper? Sure you do. But I quickly learned this time I cast off from the boat, not shore. I'll tell you what: it's hard to keep afloat, not drift out into the wind and choppy water while trying to manage a rod and reel. But I did catch a nice sized striper (about 18 inches long, probably weighing 4.5 lbs.) which cooked up very well over an open fire.

Word to the wise: the tide comes in pretty quickly so make sure that you pull your boat up high enough on land so half an hour later when you need to get something out of it you don't have to swim out to sea after it. And I would know this from experience.

Where have I been?

2006-07-28T18:27:00.000-07:00

Sorry for taking so freaking long to post something. There's no excuse. I could say that I've been sick, that I've had to juggle both work and school, that the Mass. Turnpike under Boston collapsed (all true)... but you wouldn't accept it anyway, would you?

And I don't blame you.

I am Joseph. Master procrastinator. You know me as such and wouldn't have it any other way. So just to catch you up...

Last Thursday: I ditch work to go to another Red Sox game when my friend calls me at 9am to tell me she has tickets. The game's at 2pm. "Can you miss work?" "Hell yes." We end the day with drinks at the Green St. Tavern in Cambridge where (due to the fact that the bartender there has a crush on my friend's friend) we get lots of free food and beverages.

Saturday: My birthday (or as Jose would say: anniversary). Another day older and my life still seems boring. *sigh* But I get lots of calls from friends who let me know I'm still loved which means more to me than anything that comes wrapped in paper. It's been raining all day, but I still make it downtown to watch the first act of Taming of the Shrew in Boston Commons (free production). Modern. Piquant. Exquisite. Later on it's dinner and drinks around town with my Salem friend.

Today: Although it's raining now, I call a marine service in Freeport, ME to reserve a kayak for the weekend. Tomorrow morning (despite a small sinus infection) I drive up north and kayak out into the Casco bay and Atlantic ocean to camp on one of the remote islands there. Hopefully I'll have pictures (if I don't drop my camera into the big drink!)

More later. I promise. Really.

10 little things that really get under my skin

2006-07-21T18:03:00.000-07:00

Don't ask me why I put this list together. I just felt the compulsion.

Washing lettuce. This annoys me to no end. It takes up so much real estate on the counter, everything gets wet, and then the dressing is dilluted and watery at the bottom of the bowl. I just want to eat it and not mess with it at all!

Indian music. Don't ask me why, I just don't like it.

Toenails that catch on the socks you're trying to put on. This one is pretty self-explanatory.

Certain drivers Particularly the ones who don't use turn signals and then wonder why no one will let them in the other lane. Impatient ones are really up there, too.

Water on the bathroom floor. Horrible on your own home. Much worse in a public restroom. It just sickens me.

Hedonists. No explanation needed.

Unexplained compiler errors. This one is terrible. In fact, it's really anything that doesn't work with no explanation as to why.

Boogers. I like a clean nose.

The word "alls." This is kinda a northeastern thing and it really bugs me to no end. Alls you have to do is not use the freakin' ess.

Food packaging... that says "tear here to open" but then you realize that they really meant about 1/2 an inch down.

Freeport

2006-07-10T17:05:00.000-07:00

This weekend's adventure was Maine. Freeport, to be specific, where the L. L. Bean flagship stores are.

But I didn't go for the shopping. I actually went to do some kayaking and fishing in the Casco Bay. Although I did do both, it wasn't really what I had in mind. My original plan was to rent a kayak for 2 days, paddle out to one of the remote islands in the bay, and enjoy a weekend of fishing and relaxation.

Unfortunately I didn't get my act together until almost 10:00, so after the 2 hour drive up to Freeport there wasn't really time to do everything I wanted. Particularly since I don't own a fishing pole and I don't know thing one about buying one. Is a 7-foot rod long enough to cast from the shore? Can a pole rated to a 17lb. load cast a 2-oz. lure? How do saltwater bait differ from freshwater?

I've never really been fishing many times before. In fact, I can probably count the number of times I've seriously gone fishing on one hand. My biggest catch? a 1-lb. catfish at camp McKee in Kentucky: slimy, disgusting, yet somehow very exciting. Somehow it's always intrigued me. Hunting in general, but not the idea of killing. Just the survival aspects, I guess.

I ended up getting a nice spinner rod and reel and was even able to try it out that very night...

...although I didn't catch anything until the next day when I went to Portland.

Independence Day

2006-07-08T06:20:00.000-07:00

Before the show

My alarm rang at 5:00 this morning. After my usual 20 minutes of snoozing, I rolled my lazy ass out of bed, made some desperately-needed coffee, and hopped in the shower. The gates to the Hatch Shell were to open at 9:00 and with a good hour-long commute there I had better hurry if I had any chance of beating the crowds.

Subbposedly the Boston Pops concert on Independence Day is one of the biggest in the country, so naturally I was concerned that I'd miss out. Fortunately, this was not the case, although there were 500 people acamped outside the gates by the tiem I stepped of f the red line at the Mass General Station at 7am.

The plan was to get in, find a spot on the lawn and, well, try to find entertainment for the day. I had packed a lunch (two turkey sandwiches, juice, and iced coffee), sunblock, a towel, folding chair, iPod, camera, pen & paper.

This paled in comparison to the sheer volume of equipment other people lugged with them.

Tents, canopies, tarps, umbrellas, coolers, inflatable mattresses, blankets, paper lanterns... and endless, endless flags. Giant flags, small plastic ones, falg canopies, flag shirts, flag towels, and my personal favorite: flag speedos worn by a rather patriotic gengleman.

After the show

The rain didn't seem to hold off all day, but we got off easy with just a few showers (I sought shelter in a nearby tarp... you'd be surprised with whom you'll make friends to say out of the rain). On the program, besides the Boston Pops conducted by Keith Lockhart, were Stephen Tyler and Joe Perry of Aerosmith, Rockapella, Renese King, and Dr. Phil McGraw. I met Tiffany there with some of her friends from Salem State. There was an F-16 flyover after the Star-Spangled Banner, but I couldn't get a good picture. Hey, they were going 1,500mph! What did you expect?

The orchestra was fantastic; it was worth waiting all day for.

We left near the end of the show to try to find a place to stand on the island next to the Hatch where you can see the fireworks over the Charles. I didn't get any pictures of fireworks, but I did capture the last 30 seconds of the 1812 Overture on video: 1812_Overture_Finale.AVI [21.3MB]

I'd even consider going again. There's nothing like you and 500,000 of your closest friends.

Weekend warriors (Part II)

2006-07-06T21:53:00.000-07:00

Saturday

A quick stop in Jamaica Plain to the Sam Adam's brewery is a great way to spend the morning, especially if there's a tasting involved. So that's exactly what we did. The brewery itself is hard enough to find, but well worth the trip. The suggested donation of $1 gets you into the building (which is mostly used for experimentation with recipes) and a tasting of three beers in a 5-oz glass, yours to keep.

We tried the summer ale, their flagship beer (the Boston Lager), and due to them running out of porter, an experimental number that tasted like (I kid you not) barbeque sauce.

After that we walked around the city for a bit, mostly on the Freedom Trail because I it's easy to navigate. We ventured North towards Hannover St. where we tried some cannolis at Mike's Pasteries. They're to die for, really (but only because they're rich enough to give you a heart attack).

On our way back South towards the car, we stopped by the Granary Burying Ground which houses the bones of such noblemen as John Hancock, Paul Revere, and (of course)

From there we had to book it back to the car, for we had to drive nearly two hours to get to the Mohegan Sun Casino in Connecticut to see a free They Might Be Giants show. I'm not a gambler (aside from the occasional $5 poker night), so I didn't put any money down, but Nick won $22 at slots. Score.

Considering we didn't pay for parking, we saw a free show, and even came out ahead it was a pretty good evening.

Sunday

What better way to end the weekend than driving up to see the beautiful coastline of Maine? Well, maybe that, mini golf, and batting cages. Swish!

We ate lunch at this restaurant in York that claimed to be the best in town. The dead mosquito in my fries begged to differ. Still, it's only 2 miles from the coast, which is a good excuse to get your feet wet.

The best part is that I have Monday off (July 3) so this 4-day weekend is far from over!

Weekend warriors (Part I)

2006-07-03T15:54:00.000-07:00

Thursday

This weekend was pretty spectacular. Like I said before, my friends Nick and Ben flew up to Boston for the weekend. Their plane touched down an hour before Kurt Schilling threw the first pitch. If you've never been to Boston, you might not know how long it can take to get from Logan to Fenway on a game day. The record, though, has to be when the Sox retraded for Doug Mirabelli hours before gametime. He made it in just 12 minutes.

We weren't fortunate enough to have a police escort like he did, but we made pretty good time on the T, and only missed the national anthem and a few pitches. Ben enjoyed not one but two Fenway Footlong Franks:

and I can only imagine he paid for them later dearly. The Sox won the game 4-2, sweeping the Mets spectacularly.

Friday

The next day was definitely more laid back as I had to work a full day. Nick and Ben slept in and hung around my apartment until my lunch break when I dropped them off in Lowell. After work we all headed to Boston to walk the Freedom Trail (at least the southern leg of it, anyway). Because it was later in the day, most of the points of interest were closed, but we were content with going to Bell in Hand which claims to be the oldest tavern in America.

After that it was half a dozen raw oysters at the Union Oyster House, Boston's oldest restaurant, literally 15 feet away from Bell in Hand. Nick abstained from eating any oysters, but Ben and I enjoyed them heartily.

After a brisk walk through Boston Common we arrived at Cheers

Originally the Bull and Finch pub, this is probably the smallest bar I've ever seen. Aside from being the inspiration for the television show, there is nothing really special about the bar itself... although I can say they do mix a good manhattan.

Fenway

2006-07-01T00:06:00.000-07:00

Last night I saw my first Red Sox game in Fenway Park. I met some KY friends Nick and Ben at the Airport blue liine station just 15 minutes before the first pitch. A quick ride on the T and a couple of blocks later we made it to the park.

Schilling started for the Sox and pitched a great game. We were down 0-2 by the 6th inning when Ortiz kicked it off with a solo homer. We ended up winning it 4-2 with Papelbon closing.

I would write more but I'm totally exhausted.

Shaken, not stirred. Gin is for chumps.

2006-06-28T21:34:00.000-07:00

Monday night was excellent. Progress at work and drinks in the Hub. Since I know you're not interested in work, I'll talk about Boston.

Driving through Boston isn't as nightmarish as other cities (I'm looking at you, Chicago), although parking can be a bitch. Most of the streetside parking is reserved for residents, and they'll tow your car if you try it. Luckily for me, however, I found a fly spot about a block away from the public library on Boylston St. where I met my friend Tiffany. She graduated from Virginia Tech with a Ph.D a year ago and has since moved to Salem, MA. She's the type of person who can live in a place for a week and meet more people and know more great restaurants than I could had I lived there a year.

We then headed towrads the back bay to find a place to eat and ended up at Cactus Club, a Mexican restaurant right across the street from Berklee. Feeling adventurous I ordered a hamburger (gasp!) with a delicious black bean salad. Although it didn't have garlic, it was accented nicely with cilantro, an herb I generally dislike. The burger wasn't bad, although since it's been over a year since I've had one I thought I'd enjoy it more. Tiffany and I, as usual, had a nice conversation ("If money weren't a factor, would you see a Madonna concert?"). After polishing off a Harpoon IPA, she convinced me to order a mojito. I'd never had one before. I thought of it as a caipirinha but with mint, and rum instead of cachaca. Have you noticed how popular mojitos are now, though? You can't throw a stick without hitting someone drinking one.

Afterwards we headed to Match where we ordered a couple of martinis (each). The espresso martini was nice, but a bit sweet. The vodka martini was the best I've ever had, though. Damn... and I mean damn! It was as if angels were watching Finding Neverland and you collected their tears in a shaker with ice (because who didn't cry at the end when she comes downstairs and they lift the curtain and... well, I don't want to ruin in for anyone).

My friends Nick and Ben are flying in tomorrow for the weekend. We've got a lot planned. Red Sox game. TMBG concert. Duck tour. Cheers. Sam Adams/Harpoon tour. I'm totally stoked.

My friend Marcus is coming up, too, although he didn't tell me until about three days ago. I hope we can hang out before he goes back to DC.

Oh yeah, and it's a 4-day weekend for me. I can't wait to be in the city for the celebration.

And I just know Nick is going to read this and add a comment saying he didn't cry at Finding Neverland... but he's such a liar. He bawled his eyes out. I have pictures.

There once was a man from... (Part IV)

2006-06-24T15:09:00.000-07:00

Sunday, June 18

After a quick stop at the General Store for some ice (chunky monkey) cream and postcards, I'm back on the bike to get a closer look at the Sankaty lighthouse. The building itself isn't impressively large, but the view of the ocean is spectacular on the cliff.

I'm not really a beach bum, but I'm still tempted to see the water up close (and give my legs a rest; by this time I've logged about 20 miles, and I could use a place to relax). Hiking down a nearby trail with my bike on my shoulder I make my way down. I'm not foolish enough to try to try to use the bike on the sandy trail, but it's tempting to try as the rear brake cable underneath the cross tube is digging into my shoulder. After about 10 minutes of walking I'm there. After locking my bike to a fence I kick off my shoes and let my bare feet sink into the sand.

It's relaxing alright, but I can feel myself being cooked out in the sun (and I forgot to bring sun block), so after about 20 minutes I'm ready to go. Hopping back on the bike I make my way back to the main town along the Polipis trail towards the Life Saving Museum near Shawkemo on Folger's Marsh. The entrance fee is only $5, but the real treat is meeting some people local to the island. My guide (I'm the only visitor there at the moment), Amanda, is native here, and makes some suggestions where to go next. Did you know that the to save stranded ships in shoals off the coast, Nantucketers would fire a canon with a rope attached to a projectile over the ship to pull the crew back to land?

My plan is to go to back to town and relax a bit. The wind is coming from the west making the ride back to town particularly strenuous. A beer right about now would be great. Once I make it back to town, though, I realize that it's not as quiet as 'sconset, and it's full of noisy tourists and... well... no bars. It doesn't take me long to realize that there's nothing for me here, so I might as well stay on the bike. I have a few options at this point, but I decide to keep heading west towards Madaket where I can only assume it's quieter.

But this also means heading west. Against the wind. And, as I soon learn, uphill. Oh well. I want to see as much as I can, right? I make my way through town and find the Madaket trail. Most of the way I'm struggling to maintain 10mph, but after about 25 minutes I'm there. From what I can tell, the entire town of Madaket has only one restaurant, the West End. Luckily for me, it's open, and they serve meat-free burgers. I order one, turn down the barkeep's suggestion of a "Madaket Mystery" (some crazy rum drink) and accept a Cisco Ale, a brew made right here on the Island.

Wait. There's a brewery here? Fuck yeah! But I'd better hurry as it closes in almost 2 hours and it's about 10 miles away. I thank the bartender (who is from Virginia, actually) and make my way back to town. What a difference going downhill and with the wind makes. I average 22mph, topping out at 31.

The Cisco Brewery actually turns out to be also a distillery and vineyard. I resist the temptation to try it all (the trip counter on my bike registers 39.9 miles) and try the sampler: five 4-oz. beers for $5. The Underground Brown is disappointing for a dark beer, but their ales are quite flavorful.

I leave the brewery, feeling pleasantly warm... but I've got to pee like a bitch, so I find a trail off the dirt road alongside a field and take a whizz. Since it's father's day, I figure it's a good time to give dad a call. He turns out not to be home but at Camp McKee, a summer camp for boy scouts, so I talk to mom instead.

So it's been a pretty full day, but I have two things left on my list of things to see: the Brant Point lighthouse, and the old mill.

I don't know why I'm so interested in lighthouses. I think it's partly because they're so picturesque, but also because their function is so simple yet so iconic of a simple life. A lighthouse is just that; a house. Particularly in desolate places on the coast, their inhabitants would live there with the sole purpose of keeping the light burning so that people they probably never will meet might stay safe. That and the fact that they're usually free to enjoy. Unless you're married, though, it's got to be the most boring job in the world.

Obviously, though, no one's living in this one. "It's a teeny-winy lighthouse. I couldn't even stand up in it."

The old mill was a bit more interesting. Being the oldest functioning mill in the country, it was worth the trip to see, and I got some really nice pictures, too.

Call me Don.

After a short bike ride back to the wharf, I'm ready to go. After a solid 45 miles of biking, I'm ready for a good night's rest, although after the hour-long ferry ride I'm still about 110 miles from home. It's been a fantastic weekend that has inspired me to see as much of New England as I can while I'm here.

There once was a man from... (Part III)

2006-06-23T19:57:00.000-07:00

Sunday, June 18

There's a wonderful breakfast coffeehouse just down the road from my campsite in Brewster aptly named "Brewster Coffee Shop." It's 6:30 in the morning and I'm enjoying a fresh cup of coffee, ready to hit the road to Hyannis. Yesterday when I saw this place on the road I was afraid they wouldn't be open this early. I'm still amazed that people will surrender themselves at this hour of the day. Personally, I haven't been up this early since, well... I guess since I drove up to Massachusetts last month. It really is a fantastic day to do what I'm doing... it's just my luck, though, that I'd get flat tire.

***

Ok, so while I'm enjoying an early lunch of Quahog chowder and caesar salad with anchovies at a cafe on the island, let me bring you up to speed on today's adventures so far. The ferry ride was rather upsetting; the plan was to fix my bike tire on the way over with the patch kit I brought with me. The problem is that the boat travels up to 40mph and is pretty far out to sea, so the wind made it, well, challenging. To say the least. I tried applying the rubber cement to the tire, but the goop whipped around in the air like it was coming out of a hose. The patch itself needed to fit over the valve stem, so I needed to cut a hole in it. Holding the kit box down with one foot and my tire pump with the other, squeezing the wheel between my legs, clamping the valve cap down in my teeth, I then attempted to cut a hole in the patch with my pocket knife, pressing it against the floor of the boat...

Needless to say it was a lost cause. By the end of it my hands were black from the tire, I had glued my fingers together, and I was bummed.

However, within minutes of landing I realized that this was all pointless. There must have been six bicycle shops in a row on the street leading from the wharf. I found the one I had located online just yesterday and asked the salesman if besides renting bicycles they also did repairs. They did. Hallelujah. There is a God.

I ended up buying two new tubes... just in case.

So this cafe at which I'm currently dining is located on the east side of the island, about 10 miles from the main town on the Polipis bike path. The town, Siasconset (affectionately known as 'sconset), is gorgeous, comprised mostly of cottages and B&Bs.

The bike ride over here wasn't too bed either: on my right were bogs where cranberries grew while on my left were fields, partially used for a golf course, but overlooking the Sankaty Light House.

Of course after lunch I'll have to get a closer look. Before I came here I had maybe half-a-dozen things planned, but after talking with some of the locals I'll be lucky to get everything done in just one day. I'm just so thrilled that this trip is working out so wonderfully.

To be concluded...

There once was a man from... (Part II)

2006-06-22T18:54:00.000-07:00

Saturday, June 17

Tomorrow will be an adventure for sure. I've booked a ferry ride from Hyannis to Nantucket Island for myself and my bike. When I arrived here at the campsite I had planned to take a quick ride around the lake here in the Nickerson State Park. My back tire was low, so I screwed down the valve ring and clamped on the pump, but after a few seconds I heard the too familiar sound of air escaping from a crack in the stem.

Shit.

I have a backup plan, though. Two, actually. Although I did bring a repair kit, they do little for cracks in tube near the base of the stem. And it'll take a lot of time to work on. Still, I'll have nothing better to do on the hour-long ferry ride. Plan A. Luckily this morning before I left I located a bike shop on the island not 1/4 mile from the wharf on which the ferry docks, so at the very worst I'll walk a few hundred yards before they can fix it. Plan B.

The success of this trip depends completely on my bicycle working. The island is 14 miles across, so unless I want to spend all day walking, rent a different bicycle, or *gasp* take a bus (!!!) I'll need to get this thing fixed.

Still, I couldn't have hoped for better weather. The air is warm, only slightly humid, and the sky today was cloudless. After Plymouth I drove down to the Cape to see some small towns like Barnstable, Brewster, and Sandwich.

Wait... Sandwich?

Yeah. Sandwich. The town was gorgeous, iced delicately with bicycle paths, walkways, and lakes. I took this picture earlier today next to the Hoxie House (I have no idea what this place was, but I had to stop because the name reminded me of the Hokie House bar in Blacksburg, ubiquitously known as "HoHo").

There's a lake here as well. Well, according to the map it's "Cliff Pond," but it looks like a lake. With the frustration of my flat tire, I grabbed a beer and took a walk.

The water calmed me down some. Or maybe it was the beer. Because it's getting late, I leave you with these parting words:

Tomorrow morning,
like all before, comes early.
Six o'clock is nigh.

There once was a man from... (Part I)

2006-06-20T21:04:00.000-07:00

Beer and camping: what could be better? Even as I scrawl this entry on the back of a trail map by firelight in a campsite on the Cape, the Smithwicks I just purchased in Brewster are getting warm from the evening heat. I can only hope this paper survives this ordeal so I can type it up when I return to civilization.

So why am I writing you, dear readers, 200 miles from home? Just this morning I realized that in the month that I've been here, I haven't even begun to fulfill the vision of what I had originally anticipated my experience up north to be: that of an adventure. I needed to take action. On my laptop I began researching areas locally that I wanted to visit, and after about 20 minutes my heart was set on Nantucket Island. I don't know why. Maybe that prurient limerick had something to do with it, I don't know. But in two hours I had my trip planned.

There's too much to write about in one post, so I'm breaking this up into pieces, hopefully littered with pictures... assuming something tragic doesn't happen to my camera.

Saturday, June 17

Today was an eventful one as I drove along the Massachusetts coast towards Cape Cod, where I have currently set up camp from out of the back of my car. Earlier I visited the town of Plymouth to see, of course, Plymouth Rock; probably the most uninteresting object I have ever seen in my life. It's a rock, no bigger than a coffee table. What really made it interesting was this colossal mausoleum that has been built to house this historic object. I later learned Plymouth Rock wasn't even an icon until over a century later when in 1741 a local townsperson promulgated the significance of the object. It isn't even certain, then, that this landmark is what it claims to be. Who cares, though, really? I still want one in my living room.

And there was also the Mayflower II: a recreation of the famous vessel of 1620. Don't be deterred by the word "recreation." It was built nearly 50 years ago where it sailed from Plymouth England to Plymouth Massachusetts with no assistance, completely under wind power (not even a backup motor), and a crew of about 30. I was told that only 8 members of this crew are alive today. The ship itself will be featured on a documentary about the winter of 1620 on the History Channel Thanksgiving Day this year. I got to know one of the curators who knows the story of the 1957 voyage pretty well and has met, on several occasions, the original crew.

I, myself, met some politely quiet gentlement aboard the vessel. Please meet "scurvy sam" and "dysentery dan."

To be continued...

If I kiss you where it's sore...

2006-06-16T23:11:00.000-07:00

Regina Spektor's new album was released on Tuesday, and I must say I'm impressed. What this woman can do with her voice is nothing short of fantastic. If anyone else can sing with her conviction and truth I have yet to hear them.

I am moved.

haiku for you

2006-06-15T23:28:00.000-07:00

only night offers
dreams of purest clarity.
it is time for bed

So many reasons to remember today.

2006-06-14T22:44:00.000-07:00

Today my Canadian friend Chanda left to join the Peace Corps for two years in the Cameroon so I'm going to throw a few photos of us up here on the blog. I haven't really known her that long; maybe three months, but we hit it off as friends right away. I'm glad to know her; hopefully we'll meet again.

at the crossdressing party

on our redneck fishing adventure with José

in some stranger's bathroom

Each of these pictures has a pretty good story behind it and could easily fill up this blog, but I'll save that to another day.

Today is my friend Julia's birthday. She's on the road to New York City, so I can't wish her a happy birthday in person, but I can in the virtual world.

Also today Germany's soccer team defeated Poland in the 2006 World cup. I wonder what would happen if they were to win. As you may know, most Germans have no sense of nationalism. Very much the opposite of the United States where we celebrate for a week if our Olypic curling team were to take home the bronze. What was that? Did you say something? Sorry, I couldn't hear you over all these flags flapping in my face. This is only exacerbated by the fact that we actually have a holiday to celebrate flags. It's called Flag Day. And it's today, actually.

But Germany has been very different from us ever since the end of the Second World War. I have several German friends who can attest that waving their flag in the street to celebrate victory is thought of as a shameful act. Some think that it's time to put the humiliation of WWII behind them. I think winning the World Cup on your own soil would be reason enough for any country to celebrate.

Not that we (the US of A) really have to worry about looking like fools dancing in the streets, though. It's not like we're going to win the cup. We were shut out by the Czech Republic.

***

Ok, so I haven't done laundry in a laundromat in four years. And now I remember how nice it is to have a washer and dryer. I'm actually sitting in my car typing this on my laptop because there are so many mosquitos in the stupid building that I can't even sit down. Said laundromat is next to a corner liquor store, and I'm watching someone standing outside smoking a cigarette in violent, jerky motions. I can't imagine this person working in the store, so the only explanation I can give for him standing outside if is that he's going to finish the pack of cigarettes he just bought so that he can go right back inside and buy another.

Now he's coughing and spitting on the ground.

I can't imagine what it must be like to be addicted to something that kills you as slowly as cigarettes do.

Happy Flag Day, everyone.

I share a birthday with Rufus Wainwright...

2006-06-13T22:46:00.000-07:00

...although he's exactly 7 years older than I am.

Regarding this blog, I've decided to post every day until I return to Blacksburg. It may not be much, but it will at least be something... with the exceptions of days that I'm unavailalbe due to adventure excurions or unable to put together coherent sentences.

So last week I joined a gym, perfectly situated between work and my apartment. Because it's located outside of Lowell, I have no excuses to skip going. In fact, if I go at 5:30 when I get off work, I'll have a niceworkout and miss the crazy rush hour traffic. I'll buy dinner to the person that correctly guesses my current weight. A hint: I'm 6'3" for those who don't know.

Ok, so it's been a slow day; not much to talk about, I know. I'll find something better to write about tomorrow. I'll try to post some pictures soon. Until then...

Just about the only thing still made in the US is flags

2006-06-12T20:13:00.000-07:00

I just read an article about iPod factories in China. Basically 200,000 workers (all women) work 15 hour days for $50/month. Although using Chinese facilities isn't anything new, it just shows that Apple is yet another company to outsource domestic workers for cheap labor overseas in order to sell a product at a reduced price.

Which reminds me of my wardrobe shopping spree of recent. When I moved to Mass, I realized that none of my clothes work without a suit or sports jacket, and the job I have isn't the type to require suck high-class attire. So I went shopping. Finding a decent dress shirt that fits me is such arduous task that you may be surprised how much I would spend for one. When I disovered that Banana Republic's online store sells dress shirts in the tall-medium size, I almost cried. They fit perfectly, and despite their price (even on sale) I picked up a couple.

Then I saw the tags: Made in China.

This didn't surprise me. Not really. But I was still disappointed by it. Particularly because of how much retailers charge for these items, pocketing huge profits for the image that they portray. Companies like Express, Gap, & Banana Republic do this so efficiently it scares me (actually, these are all the same company; this self-competition perpetuates the idea of bargain shopping by instilling into the buyer an artificial sense of reward when a "sale" is found). The commonality between companies like Banana Republic, Wal-Mart, and even Apple is astounding.

But should I really feel guilty about supporting these companies? It seems as though most US consumer products are made overseas. In fact, I would be hard-pressed to find a comparable product (such as a dress shirt that fits so well I almost cried) that is of domestic origin.

It kinda reminds me of shopping for organic produce in grocery stores. No f***ing way am I spending $3/lb. for zucchini. Not when I have a choice to pay half as much for squash that's nearly as good. Sure, I would like to support organic farming, but I'll do so at my local farmer's market if what I'm looking for is in season. I do realize that food isn't a novelty item; I have many more options than I do something like a portable media player or clothing. The outsourcing of food suppliers is different, but still redolent of consumer products.

And after all this I still haven't drawn any concrete conclusions about the system. I drool at the thought of a new iPod (mine's been flaking out on me), but is it really worth it? Part of this issue comes from the fact that I do actually have a job now and am making a decent bit of money, so things I normally wouldn't be able to afford are now within reach.

Par for the course

2006-06-11T19:47:00.000-07:00

So today was the first day of decent weather we've had in weeks. Actually, it was gorgeous. I spent the majority of it, however, driving around eastern Massachusetts trying to find the closest disc golf course in a town called Topsfield. The link should take you to its pdga.com info page where the course is described as having "some water hazards." Now I know eastern Mass has had trouble with flooding, and we have had two straight weeks of rain... but I swear there were water hazards on half the holes there. One actually involved throwing your disc across a pond. With the hole surrounded by trees and water. From 250 ft. Yeah. Don't believe me? Here's a picture (please forgive the suckiness of my camera phone):

I strategically skipped that hole. And about 5 others that were equally ludicrous. In fact, the majority of the course was in knee-high grass, so you'd need a tracking device to find even a good throw. I was lucky a few times. My archangel flew into the brush and it took me half an hour to find it.

But all things considered it was a good day. I got some sun, and familiarized myself with the area. One thing I forgot to mention in a previous post: none of the roads are labeled, and random forks are, erm... par for the course.

Pray for Mojo

2006-06-10T08:23:00.000-07:00

This rain is just relentless. It's been going nonstop for two weeks. Two weeks, people. All my hopes and plans of biking Nantucket island, biking to Maine, playing disc golf, and seeing a Spinners game have been dashed. Althogh the idea of even disc golf is a pipe dream as there aren't any courses near here. Bummer.

My eye appointment went well, though. Apparently I have 20/15 vision with my glasses, but not now as my eyes have been dilated making everything within three feet of me seem blurry. That includes this computer screen. In fact, there's no way of ensuring that I'm posting not on my own blog but possibly on the Christian Broadcasting Network. Pat Robertson is such a monkey. Pray for Mojo.

By the way, the Belgian Waffles at Brew'd Awakenings are fantastic. Real Maine blueberries and everything.

Citation was not just a race horse

2006-06-09T15:54:00.000-07:00

The first light on my way to work is only about 400 yards from my apartment here in Dracut, MA. In fact, you can see it here if you look carefully enough. This is a dangerous light. Just yesterday when the light in my direction changed to green, some nut zipped by on a red right in front of me. Had I started more quickly I would have surely been flattened. I guess driving a car with less horsepower than a lawnmower has its benefits.

But then I noticed that people here are ridiculously impatient, particularly during rush hour when the lights are inevitably red, no matter from which direction you approach them. I mentioned in an earlier post that the roads here are terrible, and I wish I could express just how much of an understatement that is. My shocks would be better off with me having square wheels, I kid you not. What's even worse, however, is the fact that half of the roads themselves are only about 1.5 lanes wide without dividing lines. Or the lines are faint and suddenly disappear. Seriously. No one knows how many lanes the road has until suddenly you realize you're driving in between two.

My favorite part of the drive home, though, is when the 6-lane highway abruptly ends with a stoplight. Here you have a choice: take a right, or get in one of either turn lanes (there is no straight passage). Both the left turn lanes, as you soon learn, lead directly to a single lane street. Confusion en masse occurs with everyone bottlenecked in the intersection. It reminds me of the sink in my sister's old apartment whose garbage disposal would reject any matter offered to it. This would supply herself and her dear husband hours of amusement with a bottle of liquid drainer and a toilet plunger (which I suspect was purchased expressly for this purpose). Unfortunately no traffic plunger of any size or shape exists to unclog this slimy hairball of impatient motorists, thus we're forced to wallow in the septic misery that is driving through Lowell, MA.

The problem, however, is that it is impossible to get anywhere without driving. The roads through town are atrocious, rendering a bicycle useless. Public transportation outside of or between cities is non-existent. Walking would take hours, which leaves only

skiing (requires snow)

sledding (again, snow)

teleportation

In my off hours I have been working furiously on #3, but with few meaningful results. This is attributable to the fact that the only documentation that exists on the matter resides in form of broadcast television episodes of a show "Star Trek," (apparently widely popular amongst teenagers in the 70s) and the mutant character Nightcrawler in the Marvel comics X-Men. Seeing as I am neither a teenager nor a mutant, it will be unlikely that I will fully understand the concept of such technology.

Plan B is digging a hole from the front lawn of my apartment complex to the basement of the building in which I work. This will, of course, require a B6.

Until these become a reality, however, I'm stuck behind the wheel. About 23 minutes each day. For 6.5 miles. To and from work. Naturally having twenty stoplights (nearly all of them red) each direction causes a modicum of impatience to the driver. So pushing a yellow light, in fact, can shave whole minutes off the commute, particularly if one avoids the previously mentioned pile of traffic vomit at the intersection.

Up until yesterday I had resisted such temptations. Up until yesterday had not given into the seduction that is rushing that yellow light, lingering on the brink of red. Up until yesterday I had withstood the allure of the thrill that is accelerating through an intersection; your heart pounding, knuckles white gripping the wheel...

Up until yesterday I was citation-free in Massachusetts.

mmm... delicious baby fingers

2006-06-04T19:31:00.000-07:00

I thought you guys would like to see this picture of my nephew (Daniel) sticking his hand in my mouth. Cute, isn't he? And the baby isn't too bad, either! Haw haw...

Ok, I admit, sending this picture is a just flimsy pretext to keep in touch. Being away from blacksburg has made me realize how much I miss the security of having friends a few blocks away. Plus it's rained here the past three days non-stop and I'm ready for some sunshine so I can go outside again. All my endeavors to go biking and see Martha's Vineyard this weekend were foiled by a streak of bad weather.

Live and learn

2006-06-02T15:39:00.000-07:00

Well, I have officiall survived my second week at work, and a productive one at that! What better way to celebrate than by posting a blog entry and enjoying a cold, refreshing, Sam Adams seasonal summer ale? I can think of nothing.

So a few things have been brought to my attention since I moved here:

UK Wildcats basketball is dwarfed by the Boston Red Sox craze

The Red Sox bug has bitten me hard as I recently bartered one of my kidneys for three tickets to the last Mets game of the series in June

The roads here are the worst I have ever seen. If necessary the pothole at the end of my driveway could house a low-income family

The major coffee distributor in the world is Dunkin' Donuts. The number of franchises in the area is ridiculous. They sell 30 cups of coffee every second. I read that somewhere.

Everyone has an accent here. This is the first time I've really felt like I stand out from everyone; as if they will instantly realize I'm an alien by the way I speak. No one has, though, so it's probably me just being paranoid.

Most people with whom I work commute about an hour each way

My roommate, Matt, and his friend, "G-Lo," (I don't get it) know more about bourbon than I, the Kentuckian, do

Bourbon and the Red Sox make for an interesting evening

Everyone and their dog shops in New Hampshire to avoid paying sales tax, but no one wants to live there because the property tax is outrageous

I live 2 miles from the New Hampshire border.

There is a Mexican restaurant on said border named "On the Border"

I have never eaten there

There is also a Trader Joe's nearby wherein I met a woman from New Mexico. She said the secret to getting to know New Englanders is to just open up to them. "They're naturally introverts," she told me, "but once you get to know them they're quite wonderful."

I have yet to test this, but my roommate Matt seems to fit her description to a tee.

Massachewts, 14 hours later.

2006-05-29T12:41:00.000-07:00

My alarm rang just a little after 3:45am. Without hesitation, almost instinctually, my fist slammed its damaged snooze button, already cracked from months of abuse. You see, Saturday was the first day of an adventure. I was driving to Massachusetts to start a summer internship with a company near Boston; a place I've never even visited before.

I'm not naturally an adventurous person. Usually it takes a lot of support from my family and friends to get me to move somewhere on my own. Case in point: Bethel College--not my first choice of schools, as made evident by my decision less than one year later to transfer to the University of Kentucky. I had a hard time adjusting to midwestern life, just as I had an even harder time adjusting to graduate school at Virginia Tech. The first year at Tech I maybe went out three weekends. It wasn't even until the third year that I had people I could consider friends.

So when I accepted a summer engineering co-op position for a company just outside of Boston I was naturally both excited and apprehensive. However, since my first year at Tech I've developed more than any other time in my life. But can I attribute that self-growth to maturity, or just the fact that I'd been in the area for several years and had, by that time, established myself? There's only one way to be sure: transplant to the northeast where I know next to no one and see. Boston is a precarious thrill that could just as easily lift as break my spirits.

So after 14 hours of driving, I arrived in my new home for a brief eternity: three months. I've survived my first week here without a mental breakdown, but am still a bit ambivalent. Today I'm taking it easy in Lowell "Massachewts," typing my first real blog post at Brew'd Awakenings, enjoying the gorgeous New England Memorial Day weather, enthusiastic about my (temporary) new life, and ready to make the most of it.

p.s. Canada doesn't really haunt me. It's the title of a They Might Be Giants song which was actually written for an audio copy of Sarah Vowell's The Partly Cloudy Patriot. I actually think Canada is a delightful place; a land of magic, faeries, and Lebatt Blue.