PBDC Day 18/31: Five Years Ago

 In February of 2009, a bunch of rowdy theatre kids from Diablo Valley College and a few faculty and staff members traveled by caravan from Pleasant Hill, California to CSU Fullerton in Fullerton, California to present their production of Stephen Adly Guirgis' Jesus Hopped the 'A' Train at KCACTF XLI.

Growing up in California, we didn't see much snow, so when we drove over the Grapevine and saw some of this mysterious ground cover, we knew it was going to be quite a weekend.

Back when Facebook Notes were still a thing, I wrote a Note after we returned. I have since then imported it to this blog for easy access. Enjoy:

The Morning After

It's...not crazy, or amazing, or weird, but it's...____________ to realize that this amazing experience was only five years ago. I still lived in northern California. I had not received my acceptance letter to Long Beach, and actually at that point when the picture was taken, I had not yet met the adjudicator who would see the play I directed, share with me that she is adjunct faculty at The Beach, or knew for certain if I would be attending a university.

Man, how time flies.

PBDC Day 17/31: Today's Weather

I'm lying to you. This isn't today's weather. Today is Thursday, March 20th, and I'm showing you a picture from Monday the 17th. But when I took it qualified as "today's weather." Having seen so many gray skies in the last five months, seeing the sun on a blue background was quite a treat. In this particular shot, there's barely a trace of winter on the ground, but over my left shoulder...

And there it is. Winter grasping for a few final breaths in Indiana.

Today is technically the first day of Spring, so we really aren't that far behind. It just feels like it since snow came early and hit us pretty hard.

PBDC Day 12/31: Partial

Monday and Tuesday were the first consecutive days of 50+ degree weather in way too long to remember. Probably no more recent than Christmas week. Into Tuesday afternoon we started getting storm warning notifications for anywhere from four to nine inches of snow, freezing sleet, strong winds, thunder, or any combination of the aforementioned meteorological afflictions. This morning there was quite an accumulation of snow on my windshield.

And it was gross snow. Not like the powder we graciously received for the majority of the winter, or the ice that frosted over quickly, it was wet and chunky like angry bleu cheese or a mixture of bread crumbs in a bowl with just enough egg in it to make it clump together but not really stick to anything. The roads were a slushy, bumpy mess, and it was not pretty in any way.

By noon the snow had stopped and the sun had come out in full force. Not to say it warmed up, it barely squeaked into the 20s at best, but at least the roads were cleared out enough where you didn't have to fear for your life. Leaving work this afternoon I noticed that my car was adorned by a double-decker icicle mustache, thanks to the snow that started higher up and warmed up enough to flow with gravity before refreezing.

Despite the sun's presence in the now cleared sky, the winds had already painted Mishawaka with the pasty snow, sticking it to every inch of tree, bush, building, and traffic light that got in its way. Seeing traffic lights partially blocked out was definitely a first. I have no picture for those since I don't touch my phone while I'm driving.

I did, however, see the most unique ice form I've seen all winter. Imagine a snow-covered pole. Now melt it just enough to where it starts sliding off the pole, but not where it falls apart. Add wind. Include a sign on the pole that catches the partial-sleeve of snow and prevents it from falling to the ground. And now freeze it in a position that would catch the eye of someone looking for cool things to capture on camera.

I give you, The Twisted Partial-Sleeve:

And a couple other pictures to get the full effect

and...

Cool, right? Natural art on a man-made canvas with a sweet blue background. Looking at it again, it looks like a water slide. Or one of those twisty tube slides at a playground. I've walked past this pole numerous times, but for some reason it caught my eye today, and I'm glad it did.

So it might have been the ugliest snow storm of the winter this morning, but even so, I'm partial to living in an area with four seasons. That way you really start to notice more as things are always changing, and if you don't keep your eyes open, you may never see them again.

The Post Game Show: Photo and Blog a Day Challenge-February

Ahh, March. The shortest of months is behind us, Saint Patrick's Day is just over two weeks away, and I can now say that I have successfully completed my challenge. On the first of February, I shared this post, Day 1/28: Light, which also outlined my self-imposed Photo and Blog a Day Challenge.

Here are the four most popular posts from last month:

#4 Day 5: On My Nightstand

With such little furniture in my apartment, taking the literal approach to this post was not an option. What became was a testimony to how important friends are, no matter how far you are, how little touch you may keep in, and the affect they have your life forever. Miss you all


#3 Day 27: In Love With

The cheesy road would have deemed a post about my wife. At least, I thought it would be the cop out plan, so I challenged myself by taking a photo I've never taken anything similar to. (I was going to say "a photo I've never taken before," but every photo I shoot is one I've never shot before.) What I mean is that I've never shot a composition like the one I did for this prompt. I not only took a naked photo of myself, but posted it on the internet (with little fear of reprisal or censorship).


#2 Day 8: Frozen

Growing up in California, having this long winter (first snow was in mid-November, and we're supposed to get more this first weekend in March) has presented me with plenty of new writing fuel--snow. You don't get to see individual snowflakes very often, and so I captured it for the day's composition...and turned it into a discussion about creationism and evolution with a direct connection to the Bill Nye/Ken Ham "debate" (term used loosely).

#1 Day 9: Under

When I enlisted in the Navy nearly fifteen years ago, I had zero piercings or tattoos, had never drank alcohol, hated country music, and thought pick up trucks were ridiculous. In the course of a 26 month period I volunteered for fourteen tats from seven different states. And then the ink stopped flowing. Until February 9th, 2014. A new man, married, living in a new state, with a new love for writing, the needle would meet me skin again.

So what did I learn in the last month? Plenty of things.

I love telling stories.
I love sharing positive messages.
I love my friends, who are my family.
Writing every day is easier than I thought it to be. (I didn't even write every day during NaNoWriMo last November, but I still won.)
Taking pictures is fun.
The versatility of the mobile phone camera is amazing.
The art is not in the camera, it's in the composition.
The story is up to me.

And so, with a new month upon me, I plan to continue to the wonderful writing workout plan with a photo and blog a day. There were plenty of times last month that I wanted to write more than one blog a day, but my structure-loving side did not want the list of Photo and Blog a Day Challenge posts to have a rogue post among them. But March, oh March...you're gonna get slammed like a frat boy on St. Patty's Day.

In the words of Barney Stinson...Challenge Accepted!

Photo and Blog a Day Challenge-Day 13/28: Water

"Be water, my friend." -Bruce Lee

I've had quite a relationship with water in my three decades on this Earth (which is covered mostly water, by the way).

1. Lived on both coasts.
2. Joined the Navy.
3. Stationed on and deployed with a submarine (Hooyah, Rickover!)
4. I love the beach (fitting with #1).
5. I love pool parties.
6. I drink a lot of water.
7. I really enjoy taking a shower.
8. I passed my swim qual in Navy boot camp.
9. I successfully completed a month-long swimming unit in high school.
10. I can't swim.
11. One of my biggest fears is drowning.

Ok, so maybe #10 and #11 aren't exactly in support of my overall positive relationship with dihydrogen monoxide, but hey, you take the good with the bad, right? You gotta break a few eggs to make an omelette, so they say.

But yes, water and I get along more times than not. A lot of people do. Brad Paisley even wrote a song about it. And not in a metaphorical, subliminal way, either. Here's the video for the song entitled, "Water," shocker, right?

If you've been following my blogging journey, you've noticed there have been a few posts about snow.
Snow.
More snow.
Snowflakes.

I wanted to flip it up today, so I give you...ice.

Driving around seeing all the icicles on houses has been so intriguing, awe inspiring, and scary. A few days ago, a co-worker had told me that the icicles on the back of the building had been growing, so during my lunch today, I drove around to check em out for myself

Whoa, right? Here are a few more.

And although the logical part of my brain can piece together exactly how this happens, I couldn't help but stare at them and be amazed.

Water. Like Bruce Lee said, it can take the form of any vessel that it fills. But what if there is no vessel? Then it flows as freely as it can...until it freezes. And then it flows again when it thaws...until it freezes it again. Rinse, lather, repeat.

Applying that to ourselves, we can flow into the vessels that we fill. Households, schools, jobs, religions, communities, and so on. But when there is no vessel, where do we go? When do we freeze? When do we stay liquid? Do we become dirty by picking up filth from our environment? Or even when it is added to us?

We can filter things out, thaw, freeze, flow, and spread. We can lose droplets in cracks and grow in collaboration with others.

These icicles back here are like people. These moderately scary, but wholly awesome ice sculptures persuaded by the construction of these buildings are like each of us. We flow, we grow, we freeze, we flow, we spread, we mix, we nourish, evaporate, and flow once again.

It's as simple as Master Bruce said, "Be water, my friend."

Photo and Blog a Day Challenge-Day 8/28: Frozen

As I left work this evening, I took a second to snap the following picture of the snow blanketing the hood of my car:

Unsatisfied with the degree of detail I wanted to really share, I went for a closer look (RIP Steve Irwin). Here's take two:

This latest snow fall was different in that the larger flakes had arranged themselves rather loosely to where you could see individual flakes. Every time I brushed another stroke across the roof of my car I thought of LeBron's chalk toss.

But in going over the pictures I took today, I chose this one as my official entry for Day 8: Frozen.

It was taken before work, as I sat in my car for a few minutes before going in. Noticing the left most snowflake, I admired the fact that I had a mirrored surface presenting me with a single snowflake in all it's unique glory. As you can tell, another came to join the composition, and by the time I snapped a shot I was happy with, a smaller third one had joined in. How the three single flakes flew in, landing within the proximity for me to capture all three together, was obviously beyond my control, but I'm glad it happened like it did.

So yes--Frozen--and individual snowflakes. I thought of the animated movie Frozen (which was delightful, by the way) and how the image of a single unique snowflake was a symbol for Elsa's castle of isolation. I then heard all the scientists and mathematician's saying, "all snowflakes are unique. no two snowflakes are alike."

And that's what I'm running with today. Science.

DISCLAIMER: Tonight I head full-speed into a territory that I do not often talk except for in person/real time conversation. Why? Because written words can be taken out of context and dissected for immature reasons. And also because having rational, mature discussions is something I actually enjoy whether we agree or not. So if you're easily offended by different views, or views that are stated quite casually, I don't apologize. It's my blog. So yeah, I have home court advantage. But if you're down for Coffee Bean or a beer somewhere, then I'm down.

And now back to irregularly scheduled program...

I'm still rolling around the Bill Nye/Ken Ham debate in my head. After two and a half hours of the evolution/creation "debate" (because it wasn't so much a debate as it was two men talking about their views without as much interaction as other debates have), none of my views have changed.

I did, however, learn in greater detail the two extreme views of Bill Nye (an agnostic who lives by science, evolution, and discovery) and Ken Ham (a Christian who bases all views on the Bible).

In short: I agree with aspects of both evolution and creation.

I do pride myself on my desire to learn and listen, and the ability to question my own views in the spirit of knowledge and forward progress.

I was raised in the Catholic church, attending a Catholic private school for kindergarten, first, and the first few months of second grade (before transferring to a public school). Continuing to attend (by parental decree) I received the sacraments of First Communion, and chose to continue with Confirmation in high school. Not that I blame the Navy (because I don't) but when I moved out and left for boot camp, I made the conscious decision to not attend mass on my own accord.

In my years since then, I had still attended Catholic mass here and there (mostly when returning to where I grew up to see friends from my childhood), but also chose to accompany friends of other religions to their respective churches. I've been to a couple of different Christian churches, a Latter Day Saints...service (the official term escapes me right now), and a few others to see how they celebrate their religions.

I am no longer a practicing Catholic, nor do I affiliate myself with any one religion, but I do believe in a higher power that I'll refer to as God, and that is the central belief in which my spiritual being resides.

That being said, back to Nye and Ham.

I agree with aspects of both evolution and creation.

I won't go into every single detail, nor do I consider myself armed enough with statistics and verses as the two debaters are, but I can say this:

In line with Mr. Ham, I believe in God. For the aspects of worldly creation that science (as Nye defines it) does not have answers for (and for which he wholly admits he does not) I can only look at them as an act of God. For the evolutionary chain, the 65 billion years, carbon-dating, and the like, I side with Nye.

HOWEVER.

I do not and will not, ever take the path of complete blind belief without the respect for others to ask questions, be questioned, or allow myself room to compromise.

That is where I veer away from Ham's creation model.

Yeah, I get it, I was raised on the same story that many Bible-reading families were. Even to the point of reading the book of Genesis as a family. (Er, well, as a mother and two boys, but that's another story.) But when Ham (and many others) get to the (what I'll call) extreme belief insofar as the Bible is THE ultimate word of God and that which is included within the covers of the text are exactly, literally, and without question, the way things are, should be, and have to be, that is where I say, "Good day, sir."

So, yes. I'm not saying either view is completely right and that the other is wrong. I'm not saying I'm right, and that you're wrong. What I'm saying is that I'll always listen respectfully and reserve the right to ask questions, and I hope you'd do me the same honor.

Anytime I'm faced with the answer of, "because the Bible says so," or "that's just the way it is," then that is where I ask more questions and choose the path of discovery, learning, questions, and predictions.

Because free will. But that's a blog for another time.

Photo and Blog a Day Challenge-Day 7/28: Disorganized

Yesterday I spent a good portion of my day off going through boxes, bags, and piles of papers. Trashing old thing that I don't need anymore, sorting through others that I should keep on record. Day 6/28 was Pattern and I couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that that #7 on the list was Disorganized.

Now, there aren't any written rules saying you have to do them in order, so I could very well have taken a picture of the papers on the floor and done #7 on Day 6. But then the structure junkie part of me would have a fit, and well, that's a conversation for the therapist I didn't need past the consultation.

So here we are, Day 7 of 28, following prompt #7: Disorganized. And so, dear social media friends, I present to you, my raw photo:

See me on Instagram

And a couple others I took out there

And then I realized I could just take a panoramic shot

So yes, disorganized.

It looks so calm and serene out there. Flat, like a single sheet placed over the ground. That's where the trick is.

In contrast to yesterday's post of a pattern, this is a beautiful example of mass chaos...on a level that most would not see as such.

Take New Year's Eve in Times Square, or a victory parade for the Stanley Cup, Super Bowl, or BCS Bowl Game victory, or even The Hunger Games. You can look at photos and see hundreds of thousands of screaming fans packed in there with each other, basking in fandom glory to behold their victors. That is definitely an example of disorganized. Maybe not completely, but there is a major aspect of chaos in there.

Now take out your magnifying glass from the front left pocket of your safari vest and check out the snow pictures.

Hundreds of thousands, millions, dare I say billions of little snowflakes packed in there like screaming fans at the Olympics freezing their furry hats off.

But when you're on the second floor of an apartment building, it looks peaceful.

In the Instagram post of the first picture you can see reflections of the windows on the snow. In one of the additional photos you can see tiny, teaspoon-sized piles of snow on top of the sheet.

The OCD part of my brain curses the single tree in two of those photos for breaking up the unity of the snow blanket, but then I appreciated it's presence to serve as a point of reference instead of just presenting an all-white photo.

I've found the snow to be a creative partner in my acknowledgement of it. With a couple of YouTube videos and earlier blogs Snowmance and Diving into snow, the snow has prodded my creative herd a bit this winter.

But for today, the thought of disorganization masked by an appearance of serenity, elicits a confession of sorts. For myself mostly, but I'm sure for many of us. As the snow behind my apartment sits in a fairly uniform plane, it appears to calm, serene, and peaceful. Thinking that the violent winds have shifted the randomly constructed piles of snow from earlier snowfall, the state of the snow now is just a result of forces it has no choice but to react to.

As a child, from elementary school to high school, there was a major transformation in junior high. I actually used to be really quiet. Dreadfully shy actually. If it was a matter of answering a factual question, doing math, or regurgitation of knowledge from an earlier lesson, I was there. But socially, there was little to no footing.

Through a club's team spirit that allowed me to look through a magnifying glass at my own snow blanket, I saw the snow flakes. I found the violent winds, and I laid down in subordination.

So, by the time I got to high school, unlike the snow, I fought back. But those outside forces were still there. Those days of jumping around, joking and laughing, dancing, and smiling, were my response to the winds and freezing conditions. My close friends knew what was really going on under the ice, but to those that watched from the balcony upstairs, the appearance of peaceful snow hid some brutal frozen conditions beneath.

A couple of folks asked me along the way, and some afterwards, why I was the way I was, cheerful, and always enjoying my time at school. And when I shared what was beneath the ice, they became surprised saying they had no clue that I was going through certain struggles because I was always having fun, and was so good in class. Well, being book smart and having a sense of humor isn't always a recipe for happiness--but it's a good start.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that many of us appear to others as having the elegant, peaceful snow blanket, but like those smooth rocks on the beach or by a river, it's only by the long-term battering of the waves and other objects.

So when you're "shocked" at someone's passing like Philip Seymour Hoffman, Cory Monteith, Heath Ledger, Kurt Cobain...(you get the picture), realize that although many hold these celebrities up on monumental pedestals, being good at something, whether it's book smarts, music, acting, or having a lot of something else, like money, fame, or popularity, doesn't mean you're completely happy.

Not that each suicidal, accidental, tragic death is equal, but what makes me a little bit sad is for each individual that takes his or her own life, is that it could have been prevented by some one (or some few) that listen. And you don't always have to wait for them to ask either. Asking for help is a big pride issue for many people, and so even the simplest act of saying hello can make someone feel important.

So listen to each other. Ask for help. Reach out if you really care, regardless of how long it has been since you last spoke.

Death is a unfortunate truth. Suicide is tragic, preventable situation. But loneliness...

Loneliness is probably the singular, saddest thing anyone can experience.

And so, if you're reading this, whether I know you or not.

You're never alone.

Diving into snow

Looking out the window of my kitchen this morning, I was drawn in by the erratic paths individual snowflakes fly. Yes, we’ve heard it all before…

“People are like snowflakes, unique and beautiful in their own way.”

But what I saw led me to these subsequent thoughts:

Snowflakes are like people in many ways, but obviously not completely.

We travel individual paths, but not completely out of our own control. (At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.)

A gentle breeze may blow us around, dusting the earth with wintry highlights, but as we accumulate, we can bring destruction upon things that are not ours.

When seen from inside, behind the safety of a window, we are safe from the masses and are protected from the bitter cold they are flown in with.

When molded and forced to collaborate by children, artists, and free spirits, snowmen are created, erecting something joyful for others to appreciate.

Snowflakes only exist in certain conditions, in select parts of the world, during specific times of year. Some people feel they can only survive in certain conditions, whether it’s year-long tropics or seasonal, metropolitan or secluded.

We’re part of a cycle that, as many understand, to be finite and quantifiable, but can be viewed as snowflakes do, recycling over centuries, traveling great distances between continents and oceans, sharing the same planet that prehistoric creatures did and future generations will to come.

Sometimes, if you jump early, you can be smothered by those that follow blindly, or even by chance, but in someone or something else’s search for life or food, you can be unearthed, discovered, and redirected.

White is a color of purity for many people, and as the white snow falls to the ground, cars drive by, and dirt is mixed in, leaving it dingy and different, but not necessarily wrong or repulsive. As people, we enter the world without judgments, needing security and food, but as we travel our own roads and are kicked around by other travelers and become dirty ourselves, we can appear repulsive to others, but we are still ourselves.

And when the sun shines again we have lived through our time. Hopefully we have brought joy to others, but there will undoubtedly be those numbers that cause pain, suffering, and hardship for many they don’t know.

Bruce Lee said, "Be water, my friend" and snow is still water with a little persuasion from the elements, so I think we’re still capable of doing some good.

Snowmance

“How can you not get romantic about baseball?”

–Brad Pitt as Billy Beane in Moneyball.

That’s the voice I heard in my head as I drove home from work today. In a light snow, well after the sun has set, I thought, “How can you not be romantic about winter?”

Don’t get me wrong, I miss my California family, and I’m excited as all hell to see them for Christmas, but the more I think about it, the more I’m not really looking forward to the warmer weather.

Call me crazy, and many of you already do when it comes to this, but the lack of four seasons where I’ve lived on the west coast isn’t my preferred weather cycle.

Yes, I love 70 degree weather and the days like April 25^th where all you need is a light jacket (don’t judge, it was on tv yesterday and my wife was watching it), but this past year, seeing the seasons actually change here in one of Jason’s “flyover states,” I miss having four seasons even more than I thought I would when I left Virginia to come back to California years ago.

Tonight, as I drove home, and also when I admired the fresh powder on the grass walking up to the door, I realized why I love snow in the winter so much—it has been a part of a few winters along the path of growing up.

In the winter after boot camp, I was still in Illinois for a couple months before transferring to South Carolina. For this California kid’s first winter in the Navy, the snow from the Great Lakes piled higher than waist level around base.

On a North Atlantic deployment with The Mighty Rickover, this time twelve years ago I was in Norway. Yeah, it was cold. Definitely the coldest place I’ve ever been in my life, but damn was it gorgeous. Taking the tram up the mountain and seeing the fjords as snow drifted down from the heavens is something I’ll never forget. Walking through the plazas past decorated buildings, snow filling the cracks of cobblestone walkways. Truly breathtaking. Standing outside the club eating pizza from a place nearby because we felt like a food break between shots and dancing.

A couple of weeks in Maryland, working at Aberdeen Proving Ground and getting a taste of Baltimore.

My last winter in Virginia Beach, playing in the park during the day and driving around in my truck at night to see the Christmas lights.

And now this winter, living with my wife, driving home from my one, full-time job to spend time with my wife in our toasty, little apartment with our mild-mannered Christmas tree and a couple of dorm-lifestyle chairs.

Eventually the winters will be spent in California again, and when they are, I’m sure we’ll enjoy our time with our family and friends who are much closer geographically than they are now. But at some point, I’ll think back to the snow. The places where jackets are actually needed for warmth and snowball fights and snow angels aren’t just pipe dreams.

Because, how can you not be romantic about a white Christmas?