Tom Tomorrow on the law of unintended consequences.

There’s one story I want to tell from this trip, which we hope to file under ‘it takes all kinds.’

One of the people I’ve known for a while online, but who came to this
party for the very first time, brought his girlfriend with him. Which
is fine and dandy, in principle and in execution. But there was
something about her…

Now, this group is a bunch of seriously nerdy computer people. As in:
sysadmins, comp-sci academics, network managers, site managers, web
site developers… We have the local network admin for ebay. We have
programmers who have published books on programming, and not the ‘Teach
Yourself PHP In A Week’ type, but the ‘Object-Oriented Analysis And The
Price Of Tea In China’ variety.

So our friend’s girlfriend rose a few eyebrows when she claimed to have
published 30 books on programming. Later, this bluff was raised to 45,
so she published 15 books while she was at the party. She also claimed
to have worked on writing software to map the ocean floor near San
Diego, which led to a really funny exchange:

Actual nerd: “Really? You probably know my ex.”

Fake nerd: “Careful.”

Actual: “Yeah, John Whatsisname. He would go out and collect data on the Name Of Boat Here. Did you ever meet him?”

Fake: “Careful.”

It went on like this for about ten minutes.

Why do people tell lies like that? I mean, if you’re going to fib, why
30 books? Wouldn’t one suffice? And if you’re creative enough to come
up with 30 rather than 1, why can’t you think of a better response
than ‘careful’?

Even modulo the trip I’m on, I haven’t had much to say. I haven’t written much actual *writing.*

I’m in a crop-rotation period. The photography gets the seriousness for
now. I don’t have much to show for it, especially not here on xanga,
but I might later.

Part of being me is a lack of reciprocity. I find it hard to go and
comment on other people’s ‘blogs, to even really read much. Especially,
like I say, at the moment, when my mind is on many other things. I’m
not going to apologize for being a bad ‘blog-mate (that’s a term I just
coined. Yay.), but to say that I generally suck at the social aspects
of things.

Being at this big-ol’ party has put this aspect of me into sharp
relief. It helps that many of the folks here are similarly-wired, and
so I get to watch them be awkward, and be awkward in return. That’s the
reason the risk is worth it.

I also find it hard to resist the idea of a long, long road trip. But
that’s another matter entirely. One day I think I’m going to write a
book: ‘How To Travel Alone If You Don’t Like Being Around People.’ In
it, I’ll instruct people to eat at drive-thrus and stay at National
Forest campsites (and how to choose the most isolated one). Choose a
camper shell over an RV, because RV people assume you’re their friend.
Cultivate an appearance that effectively blends the notion that you’re
a nice guy, but you might be carrying a loaded revolver. That sort of
thing.

Here I am in Colorado. I’m missing the annual trip to Le Peep, on the
morning after the big blowout. I got zero sleep last night, and was
awakened to a snarky comment (“If it’s really important, you’ll find a
way to go back to sleep,”),
even though there are plenty of places to hold a conversation which
*aren’t* next to the couch where I was sleeping. Anger and frustration
swell, and are put it check by some form of civility, but still
smolder, ready to erupt at the wrong time. Now it’s a question of
avoiding the crowded restaurant, even though I’d really like to go. Ah
well.

The trip over here was uneventful, though I did take a side-trip down a
back road or two into Colorado from southern Wyoming. CO state highway
125, if you look on a map. Through some lovely scrub desert on up to
the northern edge of the rockies, making valley passes into higher and
higher landscapes. Eventually I got to North Park, a huge mountain
valley, with a wildlife reserve splat in the middle of it. Also a town,
Walden, population 870, which had been dubbed the moose viewing capital
of Colorado. They had the most pathetic visitor’s center, obviously
built in a flurry of effort, now unmaintained and unvisited by anyone
other than myself.

I did actually see some moose(s), and took pictures, but they were more
than 30 miles from the moose viewing capital. I’m not at my computer,
so I can’t upload the pix.

More later.

Tom Toles gets it.

I’ve been looking at a lot of web sites about the Pacific Crest Trail. I’ve decided that it’s my goal to hike it next summer.

The trail stretches from the Mexican border to the Canadian border (and 30 miles beyond, to a BC provincial park). It travels through some of the toughest terrain on the continent, most notably the arid desert near Mexico, the Muir wilderness in California, and the north Cascades up into Canada. On average, it takes 20 weeks to do the whole thing, at an average of something like 20 miles of hiking a day.

I thought about splitting it up. One state per summer, perhaps. But if one has hiked the entire length of California (and not just the length of California, but through the high Sierras), one might be of a mind to keep going beyond the view of Mt. Shasta. There are people who do it in segments, but that sort of thing seems wholly arbitrary. And really, it’s a test. What are you testing if you go in segments?

I can’t help but think big. I used to want to hike the Appalachian Trail, until I learned about the PCT, which is longer, hairier, and more remote. Plus the AT doesn’t really have any alpine sections.

So: Next summer, it’ll be all about packing 30% of my body weight across the western states, eating too much dried fruit, and ending up looking like Conan the Barbarian. And maybe taking some good pictures, too. Unless something stupendously better comes along, of course. If you think you might need my professional services during next summer, now’s the time to schedule.

So I’ve done a little bit of updating at Mile23.com.

Not much there, but comments work. New users get a ‘blog, but keep in mind I’m not entirely clear about what this site will become, so that could evaporate.

Sorry, old comments are temporarily unavailable.

Please visit http://www.xanga.com/updates site for status updates.

Last night I went and saw ‘Batman Begins.’ I didn’t know much about it, other than it’s the origin story of Batman, and that Christian Bale plays Bruce Wayne.

Then all these really big name actors started showing up in supporting roles. Liam Neeson, Michael Caine, Rutger Hauer, Morgan Freeman, and Gary freakin’ Oldman, who has to be one of the best actors of our generation.

Rutger Hauer, by the way, seems to be doing his best to land the role of Donald Rumsfeld in the movie version of the tragedy that is the Bush administration.

But be that as it may. This movie is really good. If you’ve followed Batman at least a little, you know the story basics. Boy falls down a hole, is traumatized by bats, watches his parents get killed, runs off to Tibet to learn the ways of criminals in order to get revenge, etc. And thankfully the story is merely a vehicle for a lot of questions about corruption, both institutional and personal. The screenwriters are taking the central myth as a skeleton, and hanging a lot of good material off it. The direction makes the whole thing somehow believable, with not much emphasis on a guy in a bat suit, and much, much more time given to the emotional realities of the characters.

Basically, it’s the first decent comic book movie. It’s about the characters, one of whom just happens to be a billionaire with a secret identity. I left the movie hoping there would be sequels. But there probably won’t be, even though they kind of already exist.

On Thursday, I went to a naturopathic chiropractor.

She was fascinated by my medical history, so we spent two hours talking about it. There was a huge crowd of people in the waiting room, too. It was kind of funny.

Finally, she put me on a massage table and, with only minimal warning or preface, started sticking me with needles. I’ve never had acupuncture before, and I’m here to tell you that it works. Whatever it is, it works. I could feel the muscles in my back relax into non-existence. I also felt a bunch of psychic stuff (for lack of a better word), but sometimes talking about that kind of thing is a liability. But still: Those muscles slacked right up.

Nevertheless, my troublesome abdominal muscles were still working against her when she did the adjustments. She said, “You’ve got some really tight muscles there, my friend…” I wanted to say, “Yeah, I told you,” but I was still getting over the adjustments. I might have said something like, “Uhng,” instead.

I’ve felt a lot better lately, too. I noticed almost instantaneous improvement, which has declined gradually and steadily.

I’m set to go back on Tuesday. Hopefully this time she’ll stick needles in the magic places that will make my abdominal muscles go limp as well. Then on Wednesday, I’ll begin the process of sitting in a car driving for three days.