The Curse of the Lunch Meat

I’m in Nashville, TN right now helping coordinate flood relief efforts. Nashville is a city of vintage neon signs, cowboys and country music. A city whose pulse can be felt in the beat of the kick drum from any number of bars in downtown…where going to karaoke is no fun because everyone who gets up to sing sounds like they have a couple of CMA’s on their shelves at home. (that’s country music awards for those not in the know).

But I’m not going to talk about the hats and boots…I’m here to recount an amazing story that will passed down from father-to-son as one of the greatest pseudo-sport achievements of all time.

one night while exploring the downtown area we came upon a bar with a quintessential aspect of cowboy culture…or quasi-urban cowboy culture: the mechanical bull. tucked in the corner of a bar that had an overpowering stench of bleach (it was it’s first night open since the flood) lay the bull–waiting to be broken.

I had no intention of riding said bull but was “roped” into it as someone else in our party didn’t want to be the only one to make a fool of themselves. Having rid myself of shame years ago I happily agreed to test my mettle against the metalic beast from hell.  So i signed the waiver, paid my fee and contemplated what the next few minutes would hold. Because i’m slightly retarded i immediately start thinking about John Travolta in ‘Urban Cowboy’ and how I don’t have a hat, tight jeans or even a stormy relationship to bolster my performance…i would have to rely on the one thing that has gotten me through many a tough situation–heart.

before I knew it I was throwing my leg over the hydrolic beast, doing my best Luke Perry impression ala ’8 seconds’ I raised my hand and signaled my readiness to begin the dance. 

…I could try to explain what happened next, but words would fail to capture my display of raw athleticism. I did so well that even a few of the old salty dogs at the bar shed a tear and tipped their hats out of respect.

now I’m not one to tell a tale er nuthin…but shucks–I sure beat the hide off that bull…i swear ta god i did.

i may have won the battle…but this war is far from over…

Since coming back from Iowa at the end of April I got to spend too short a time in San Francisco with Claire…it’s the part of my job I like the least…and by that I don’t mean seeing my girlfriend (I love that part), but how it can be infrequent. The sporadic nature of Disaster Response is exciting and maddening at times. The daily grind doesn’t really exist in my world and that can mean that I’m hanging in San Fran for a month or two or, as in the case of this year, I’m barely there. But we made the best of it before I left around 2 weeks later to go to a Conference. Bill (my “boss” ) and I presented at the: National Voluntary Organizations Active In Disaster Conference…I haven’t been that nervous in a long time but everything went really well…I met a lot of great people and learned a little more about myself: I’m not so good at schmoozing…I know I can talk to people but when the setting is designed to foster that sort of activity I freeze up. I had a lot of awkward conversations with people…it was great. In addition to learning more about what makes me awesome (or not in this case) I noticed that we (Bill and myself) were some of the youngest people at this conference by 20ish years…interesting.

so yeah…it went really well and I believe lots of good opportunities to prove how capable we are as an organization will come out of it…starting….NOW!

From the conference we went straight to Nashville, TN where we are currently setting up a work flow coordination project to help the groups on the ground be more effective and get more done for the people who were flooded out a few weeks ago…should be good.

So yeah, that’s the update: I’m working a lot and living in a church again.

ok, so now onto the other piece of goodness…they’re called pomplamoose…check them out on youtube–they rule.

I believe this product is genius; however, what does it say about fishing?

with that said, I have a birthday coming up mid-july…and I’ve never needed a floating cooler more than I do right now.

everything is extreme nowadays…including bodyshaping. What the folks at ‘Farrell’s’ do that push their bodyshaping into that upper echelon is something I’m not ready to find out. I don’t want washboard abs that bad.

Pass me a beer.

There’s a new face in the magic game…ShaZam!

Magic has never looked creepier.

There was a community magic show at the church where I’m currently living (I’m back in Iowa finishing up a rebuilding project) and I had the good fortune to stumble upon this 81/2 x 11. Truly amazing. I imagine that he was going for the “mysterious man in a tux” magician look. Instead, the intensity of his steely gaze suggests that he is about to crush the dove, a symbol of freedom, with his bare hands if we do not submit to his will.

It certainly does….

After eating nothing but rice, beans and spaghetti for 2 months I managed to drop a couple lbs. I didn’t realize I had that many lbs to drop in the first place…but that’s besides the point. The point is that I’m trying to change the way I eat and the way in which I eat to keep from regaining what I’ve lost.

You see, I like food–all food really. What’s more is that I enjoy eating food…a lot, and wouldn’t you know it, I can pack it down like no other. So trying to be more conscious about what I eat and how much, has taken some adjustment. This doesn’t mean that I’m a vegetarian or a super calorie counting freak, but it does mean that i’m not going back for thirds…

However, I’m getting hungry and I want this for lunch–sensible eating be damned!

Just looking at it makes me think I’m having a heart attack…fried chicken, zesty mayo, bacon and melted jack cheese. Everything that makes most people say ‘no’ to this is causing me to drool all over my keyboard.

it will be mine…oh yes. it will be mine.

I sit in a dark church, in Cedar Rapids, IA with the lights off because I don’t want to attract unwanted attention. I’m allowed to be here…at least I think I am. I mean I’m here, and no one has told me I can’t be so I’m rolling with it. When I try and convey how crazy I think it is that I should keep coming back to Cedar Rapids, sleep in a church and carry out projects or trainings or whatever, I never do it justice. It’s just so random, I guess that’s why I like it…but still, Cedar Rapids–weird.

I’m here for the month of April doing a rebuild/refurbish project of sorts. We have groups coming in with construction skills and we’re going to hang drywall and basically take homes that are close to being “good as new” and actually getting them there…so it’s pretty exciting. It’s also a little strange…to come from Haiti where things were so royally fucked that it’s going to take a lot of $$ and a lot of time before life returns to some semblance of “normal.” And here in the “developed” world I’m back in a community that was affected by major flooding 2 years ago and still life hasn’t returned to normal, whole neighborhoods are vacant as if the waters receded a week ago…and the government still doesn’t have a plan for how to prevent this from happening again in the future. Apparently it doesn’t matter if you’re the richest country in the Western Hemisphere or the poorest–when you’re fucked–you’re fucked…how uplifting.

During my brief respite in San Francisco I discovered something new about myself–I enjoy rock climbing. How I came to this revelation is quite simple: One of the volunteers in Haiti brought down a slackline and set it up. I had briefly encountered a slackline while in Peru a couple years ago and remembered liking it…so I eagerly played on it until I got the basics down. This most recent encounter was enough to prompt me to buy the materials to setup my own. In the process of researching I discovered a rock gym that had lines setup so I went and played around. While I was there I figured I might as well give this whole “climbing” thing a try…and I’m certainly glad I did. I love it, I love it so much that I purchased some shoes and a chalk bag and am mildly obsessed. So yeah…no interests, all good things.

So here’s to sore forearms, calloused hands and dry skin!

a day of rest, a day to sleep in, a day to do what you want. I was going to go back to the beach but there’s an opportunity that we will be able to go to the Canadian Army base and watch the USA vs Canada hockey final…so I think I’m going to opt for that. Me and a couple thousand Canadians, watching the US beat them at their own game…what could go wrong?

Beyond this afternoon, my time in Haiti is coming to a close…it’s coming up on a month and half (which seems hard to believe) and things on base are coming together quite well…which was the main purpose of me joining the assessment team. By the time I leave we’ll be at about 70 volunteers on-site, enough continuity will have been created so that I can hand off my responsibilities and slip out.

I’ve rather enjoyed my time here thus far, the first time was overwhelming, this time seems to be a bit more normal and I feel that my creole has come along a lot quicker this time than previously…so all is well.

more soon.