10 June, 2009

What's it Like?

It's pretty good, in general. I'll start with that.

For example, tonight I was sitting at my sister's kitchen table with my four-year-old nephew Henry while he colored a rocket ship. We were sharing my i-pod, listening to Grandmaster Flash's epic "White Lines," and Henry was jiving. EB, my sister, was writing a thank-you card to Henry's pre-school teacher and asked him what else he wanted her to include on the card. "This song," he said coolly, not taking his eyes off the rocket, his head bobbing to the hypnotic bass. I thought I'd die I felt so envious of this child's wit. It's a humbling feeling to covet a four-year-old's cleverness.

It was either while I was in the Costco parking lot a few weeks ago with my mom, or while I was driving to Bellingham last weekend, when I realized being in America is a lot like playing Super Mario 3 on the NES in world 4. Everything's gigantic! It really is the land of plenty! The cars, the roads, the mountains! Being back has been a bit of a thrill in this regard. I could basically go anywhere I want right now, order something, then ask, "Do you have a bigger one?" And they probably would. And for some reason it'd probably be cheaper somehow. Because that's just how things get done here. What a country!

I'm in Yakima, Washington for a couple of months, and I've been re-exploring it via bicycle these last several evenings. The roads are incredibly wide in this town, and I feel like I'm on an interstate whenever I'm heading somewhere, making the experience terrifying. Plus, every other vehicle on the road is an oversized pick-up truck. It'd be interesting to do a survey of Yakima in order to find out just how many people are actually hauling things around. If the trucks are any sort of indicator, the citizens of Yakima are wild about moving stuff. I can't even imagine what sort of stuff it might be, but they've got to move it out of here! I feel kind of embarrassed to be on my little blue bike out there, like I'm totally out of place and alien. So I can't even imagine what the guy in the muscle t-shirt with the 5-inch lift is thinking. This is more or less a perfect example of how I imagine the summer is going to progress. Lots of this doesn't really make sense kind of moments.

Other than that I split a bottle of white wine with my mom in the evenings, and eat my breakfasts in Paris each morning with the sweetest girl I know.

Oh, and I'm going to start learning German next week. It's cool.

03 June, 2009

On the Wall inside the Men's Room at the Up and Up:

The Universe is becoming aware of itself.


As a rule I normally don't believe in poetry, but it's hard not to when such a strikingly simple sentence is scrawled onto a dirty, tattered wall.