I won't be trying a new thing today, but I do have a goal: to read a complete book of poetry. If I did this in college, I've blocked it. Poetry has always been opaque to me. I just don't seem to understand poems other than the basic famous ones like Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken." But I'll give it one more try.
Billy Collins came to mind first, as I heard him read a selection of his poems a couple of years ago in Jackson Hole and enjoyed them very much. In fact, I've liked the poems Garrison Keillor has recited on NPR, so maybe hearing poetry is the best way for me to appreciate it. But my mind is made up: I plan to read "Elephant Rocks," a book of poems by Kay Ryan.
I confess Ryan appeals to me largely because her poems are short. But she's also the country's Poet Laureate right now, which makes her seem to-the-moment. Plus, my interest was piqued by Megan O'Rourke's review of Ryan's work in "The Highbrow" section of Salon.com.
O'Rourke wrote, "And yet it's hardly a surprise that the Library of Congress tapped her. Ryan rejects the pained, stylized self-consciousness that characterizes so much contemporary poetry. Where many poets today are engaged in issues and questions that would be meaningful mainly to other practitioners of the art, Ryan's concerns about the nature of reality are relatively translatable to a general audience."
I am definitely in the "general audience" category. Now onto the poetry.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The Happiness Project 2
There aren't many blogs I go back to again and again. One exception is Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project at www.happiness-project.com. She writes beautifully and always has something interesting and inspiring to say. I just read her post on the entering into other people's interests in life, a concept she stumbled upon in a Tolstoy novel.
She wrote, "The phrase that caught my attention in this description is that Nabatov 'entered into all the interest of his mother’s life.' It occurs to me that when you think of people getting along harmoniously – whether in a family, or among friends, or in an office – people make an effort to enter into the interests of each other’s lives." Rubin also wrote that we're often judgmental about other people's interests, which brought to mind my own reaction when a friend told me she and her husband were flying to Phoenix specifically to go to NASCAR races.
While I don't plan to fill my time with activities that interest other people if they don't interest me, I do feel inspired by what she wrote to try to at least learn a little bit about things friends, family and co-workers enjoy.
She wrote, "The phrase that caught my attention in this description is that Nabatov 'entered into all the interest of his mother’s life.' It occurs to me that when you think of people getting along harmoniously – whether in a family, or among friends, or in an office – people make an effort to enter into the interests of each other’s lives." Rubin also wrote that we're often judgmental about other people's interests, which brought to mind my own reaction when a friend told me she and her husband were flying to Phoenix specifically to go to NASCAR races.
While I don't plan to fill my time with activities that interest other people if they don't interest me, I do feel inspired by what she wrote to try to at least learn a little bit about things friends, family and co-workers enjoy.
F---It lists
New York magazine ran a funny item about a comedian who's started something called the FuckIt List, a reverse Bucket List where instead of listing all the things you want to do before you die you name the things you're simply not going to bother with. Great idea, kind of like getting rid of all the too-small clothes in your closet that you'll never fit into again and giving away all the books you bought or were given with good intentions but know in your heart you really don't want to read. Clearing out what isn't wanted makes more room for what is.
So for starters I say Fuck It to:
So for starters I say Fuck It to:
- Dieting. My eating habits are reasonably healthy, and I exercise. I like to eat. Enough said.
- Reading Oprah book selections, or anything that anyone says I should read. I'm very good at selecting books for myself. Nobody else is, not even Oprah.
- Quentin Tarantino movies. Everyone loves Pulp Fiction. I don't.
- Downhill skiing. Hate to include this, but I finally faced the fact that lack of talent + intense fear + high cost of tickets = something I can do without. I did enjoy the little bit of it I've done. And I've cherished a fantasy of getting really good at it, but it's not gonna happen.
- Competitive people. Take your one-upsmanship elsewhere.
That's it for now. I do plan to add more.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
World Championship Snowmobile Hillclimb
I love the smell of cigarette smoke and gasoline in the morning. ... or maybe not. Snowmobile racing combines many things I dislike: Noisy, fast-moving vehicles; standing around in freezing cold weather; big crowds; Rush Limbaugh supporters.
But after 10 years in Jackson, Wyo., I finally attended the single biggest annual event here, the one that brings the most people to town, generates the most money for local businesses and allows the local Snow Devils club to make very generous charitable contributions. Yes, I was one of the estimated 10,000 people at the 34th annual World Championship Snowmobile Hillclimb at Snow King Resort, where men and women vie to be the fastest person to climb the 1,500-foot vertical rise.
As I waited to buy my wristband for admittance and have my purse checked for liquor and weapons, I wondered if I was the only in the entire crowd there who voted for Barack Obama. I was jolted out of my smug liberal musings by the sight of two guys watching a flock of little brown birds under a pine tree. "I told her it was time to put some seed out," one said to the other. "Do you know what those are?" I asked. "Mountain sparrows, I think," he said. Hmmm, a bird watcher who likes snowmobiling. So much for stereotypes.
And once I got through the gates, I began to see the fun of it all. It's one thing to encounter a sled-head on a cross-country ski trail, where the snowmobile fills the fresh air with noxious fumes and whining noises that linger on and on. It's another thing to watch men and women speed up a hill so steep that some competitors flip and their snowmobiles tumble down the slope. The noise and smell add to the excitement. And being with thousands of people whose eyes are glued to the slopes makes it hard not to get caught up in the excitement. Viva la Hillclimb!
Addendum: I figured out that the birds those guys and I saw were white-winged crossbills.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Disturbing numbers
Sometimes it's painful to read the newspapers. I've had more time than usual in the last two days to peruse ours. Here are three disturbing numbers:
- A baseball team called the West Michigan Whitecaps is adding a 4,800-calorie burger to the menu at Fifth Third Ballpark. The 4-pound behemoth features five beef patties, five slices of cheese, nearly a cup of chili, salsa and corn chips, all piled on an 8-inch sesame bun. Cost: $20.
- In an AP story, "Bad wiring imperils soldiers," it was reported that due to faulty wiring, at least three U.S. soldiers have been electrocuted while showering at American-run facilities in Iraq.
- 19,400 seals were killed in the first stage of Canada's annual seal hunt in the area off Quebec's Iles de la Madeleine in the Gulf of St. Lawrence.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Cardio-max class
Strong, energetic, courageous women abound in the Jackson Hole area. We've got an Olympic triathlete here as well as the first woman to ski off the summit of Mount Everest. Another local just won a race (and set a world record) in a competition that involved skiing up and down a mountain for 24 hours. For others, a 24-hour bike ride or 100-mile foot race is the perfect good time.
My idea of fun is going to the movies, reading in bed, drinking wine. Sure, I ride my bike all through the summer, cross-country ski in the winter and hit the gym a couple of times a week. But there's a nagging voice in my head: Must be better, stronger, more energetic, more courageous.
So today I aimed for a three-fer by taking a "Cardio-max" class at my gym. It was a brave move for me to (1) try something labeled "max," a term I dread as much as "extreme" and (2) work out in a group. Exercising alone allows me to avoid comparisons with people who are more fit and coordinated and also gives me an out to quit whenever I want. Which of course is the problem.
The "max" in the class title might have meant "maximum amount of exercise equipment." Over the course of 50 minutes, Heather, our instructor, put us through our paces on a mat, a stationary bike and a rubber bubble thingie. We also used handheld weights, exercise bars and giant stretchy bands with handles. Variety is not only the spice of life, I found, but also a flabby woman's best friend in a cardio class. We did so many different moves that I never had that "Oh, god, I can't take any more" feeling.
So, a cardio-max class is today's new thing. It may not be skiing off the top of Mount Everest, but it was a small, brave step for me, and a new thing.
"Courage is not the lack of fear. It is acting in spite of it."
- Mark Twain
My idea of fun is going to the movies, reading in bed, drinking wine. Sure, I ride my bike all through the summer, cross-country ski in the winter and hit the gym a couple of times a week. But there's a nagging voice in my head: Must be better, stronger, more energetic, more courageous.
So today I aimed for a three-fer by taking a "Cardio-max" class at my gym. It was a brave move for me to (1) try something labeled "max," a term I dread as much as "extreme" and (2) work out in a group. Exercising alone allows me to avoid comparisons with people who are more fit and coordinated and also gives me an out to quit whenever I want. Which of course is the problem.
The "max" in the class title might have meant "maximum amount of exercise equipment." Over the course of 50 minutes, Heather, our instructor, put us through our paces on a mat, a stationary bike and a rubber bubble thingie. We also used handheld weights, exercise bars and giant stretchy bands with handles. Variety is not only the spice of life, I found, but also a flabby woman's best friend in a cardio class. We did so many different moves that I never had that "Oh, god, I can't take any more" feeling.
So, a cardio-max class is today's new thing. It may not be skiing off the top of Mount Everest, but it was a small, brave step for me, and a new thing.
"Courage is not the lack of fear. It is acting in spite of it."
- Mark Twain
Thought for the day
A spring storm brought six inches of snow and a fierce wind to Jackson Hole. I feel sorry for the songbirds that just migrated back here for the summer. A lot of the robins stayed the winter. There were 10 in the crabapple tree in my front yard this morning. Some were eating the fruit leftover from summer, but most just sat on the branches all puffed up and trying to keep warm. Apparently the little downy woodpecker pecking at the tree to find insects felt too outnumbered, because he took off shortly after arriving. No sign at all of all the finches, sparrows and juncoes that have been hanging around.
Appropos of nothing, my quote of the day:
"Sometimes the best way to figure out who you are is to get to that place where you don't have to be anything else."
- Unknown
Appropos of nothing, my quote of the day:
"Sometimes the best way to figure out who you are is to get to that place where you don't have to be anything else."
- Unknown
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Read a book by Ariana Franklin
Some people like Match.com, some prefer eHarmony.
My matchmaker of choice is Amazon.com. Time after time, Amazon finds me that special someone, that person who shares my oddball collection of interests, that person called an author.
Most recently, based on the tastes indicated by my previous purchases, Amazon introduced me to Ariana Franklin and her book "Mistress of the Art of Death." I checked it out to see if it offered what I like. The Middle Ages? Check. Murder mystery? Check. Female sleuth? Check. One of a series featuring the same character? Check. I hit the one-click purchase option and soon the book appeared in my Kindle. If only all set-ups could go so smoothly.
"Mistress of the Art of Death" takes place in 12th century England. Its protagonist is Adelia, who is a doctor - highly unusual in her time. She's particularly interested in examining dead bodies, even cutting them up, to find out why people died, kind of like a Medieval Kay Scarpetta. The story is set in Cambridge, England. Four young children have been brutally murdered, and the town's Jew's have been blamed and persecuted for it. Adelia employs her medical skills to solve the case and even finds love in the process.
The book was fun and interesting, just like any good blind date. Since this is a three-book series, I have at least two more outings with Ariana Franklin. After that, I'll be back on Amazon looking for the next new thing.
My matchmaker of choice is Amazon.com. Time after time, Amazon finds me that special someone, that person who shares my oddball collection of interests, that person called an author.
Most recently, based on the tastes indicated by my previous purchases, Amazon introduced me to Ariana Franklin and her book "Mistress of the Art of Death." I checked it out to see if it offered what I like. The Middle Ages? Check. Murder mystery? Check. Female sleuth? Check. One of a series featuring the same character? Check. I hit the one-click purchase option and soon the book appeared in my Kindle. If only all set-ups could go so smoothly.
"Mistress of the Art of Death" takes place in 12th century England. Its protagonist is Adelia, who is a doctor - highly unusual in her time. She's particularly interested in examining dead bodies, even cutting them up, to find out why people died, kind of like a Medieval Kay Scarpetta. The story is set in Cambridge, England. Four young children have been brutally murdered, and the town's Jew's have been blamed and persecuted for it. Adelia employs her medical skills to solve the case and even finds love in the process.
The book was fun and interesting, just like any good blind date. Since this is a three-book series, I have at least two more outings with Ariana Franklin. After that, I'll be back on Amazon looking for the next new thing.
Twittered
Count me among the growing ranks of Tweeple. ... at least today.
A couple of hours ago, I joined Twitter and posted a message, something rather boring about the weather and economy here in Jackson Hole.
Who will read it? I have no idea. What will they get from it? I can't imagine. Why did I do it? Can't really say.
Perhaps it's an "I'm in with the in crowd" kind of thing. Twitter is written about so much these days that I was beginning to think maybe I was missing something, although I haven't cared enough to actually bone up on the topic. Then, a "how to Twitter" column by Julia Angwin of the Wall Street Journal inspired me to dip a toe in the water. Now that I've Twittered, I'm still missing something: the point.
I like to think I have Goldilocks self-esteem. Not too high. Not too low. Just right. It's hard for me to believe many people need or want to read my fleeting thoughts. The few who might would probably just as soon talk to me in person.
Besides, that "in with the in crowd" thing has a flip side. One goal on Twitter is to get yourself a whole bunch of followers. So if you don't, are you some kind of loser? I have a Facebook account, too, but haven't done a thing with it. No. 1, I don't see the point of that either, and No. 2., I heard one acquaintance making fun of another for having only two friends on Facebook. Yikes.
So, really, this "new thing" consisted solely of proving I could and would try Twitter. If nothing else, I had something to blog about today.
An amusing aside to end this post: In the comments section on Julia Angwin's WSJ story, I read this: "I suspect that all twitterers are liberals. I suspect they have too little to occupy their attentions, and undefined goals to achieve."
Someone's onto me.
A couple of hours ago, I joined Twitter and posted a message, something rather boring about the weather and economy here in Jackson Hole.
Who will read it? I have no idea. What will they get from it? I can't imagine. Why did I do it? Can't really say.
Perhaps it's an "I'm in with the in crowd" kind of thing. Twitter is written about so much these days that I was beginning to think maybe I was missing something, although I haven't cared enough to actually bone up on the topic. Then, a "how to Twitter" column by Julia Angwin of the Wall Street Journal inspired me to dip a toe in the water. Now that I've Twittered, I'm still missing something: the point.
I like to think I have Goldilocks self-esteem. Not too high. Not too low. Just right. It's hard for me to believe many people need or want to read my fleeting thoughts. The few who might would probably just as soon talk to me in person.
Besides, that "in with the in crowd" thing has a flip side. One goal on Twitter is to get yourself a whole bunch of followers. So if you don't, are you some kind of loser? I have a Facebook account, too, but haven't done a thing with it. No. 1, I don't see the point of that either, and No. 2., I heard one acquaintance making fun of another for having only two friends on Facebook. Yikes.
So, really, this "new thing" consisted solely of proving I could and would try Twitter. If nothing else, I had something to blog about today.
An amusing aside to end this post: In the comments section on Julia Angwin's WSJ story, I read this: "I suspect that all twitterers are liberals. I suspect they have too little to occupy their attentions, and undefined goals to achieve."
Someone's onto me.
Art Alive @ 12:05
"You're never too old to make great art."
An inspiring quote, no? It comes from Todd Wilkinson, a Bozeman, Mont.-based newspaper/magazine/book writer (now working on an authorized bio of Ted Turner), who spoke today at an "Art Alive @ 12:05" event at the National Museum of Wildlife Art in Jackson, Wyo. About 50 people, including me, turned out to hear Todd talk about Frank Benson, an American artist (1862-1951) credited, according to Tood, with making sporting prints a distinctive art form. We all gathered in the museum gallery where one of Benson's works, "Chickadees," hangs. Benson completed the watercolor-on-paper work in 1945, when he was 83. Hence Todd's remark about age and art. I love it.
For years I've seen announcements for Art Alive @ 12:05 programs in the Diversions calendar of the Jackson Hole News&Guide. Today I finally got organized and motivated to go. So it's my latest new thing.
An inspiring quote, no? It comes from Todd Wilkinson, a Bozeman, Mont.-based newspaper/magazine/book writer (now working on an authorized bio of Ted Turner), who spoke today at an "Art Alive @ 12:05" event at the National Museum of Wildlife Art in Jackson, Wyo. About 50 people, including me, turned out to hear Todd talk about Frank Benson, an American artist (1862-1951) credited, according to Tood, with making sporting prints a distinctive art form. We all gathered in the museum gallery where one of Benson's works, "Chickadees," hangs. Benson completed the watercolor-on-paper work in 1945, when he was 83. Hence Todd's remark about age and art. I love it.
For years I've seen announcements for Art Alive @ 12:05 programs in the Diversions calendar of the Jackson Hole News&Guide. Today I finally got organized and motivated to go. So it's my latest new thing.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Got an AARP card
I didn't have to sign up, but the thought of all those senior-citizen discounts was so tantalizing I couldn't resist. I'm now a member of AARP, an organization whose initials stand for "American Association of Retired Persons.' Odd to be part of it, since I am not retired and, if my 401K and IRA statements are to be believed, will be working well into my 90s. At least AARP has a nice magazine that I can read on lunch breaks.
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