[at-l] Y?

[shane at theplacewithnoname.com (Shane)]

> Anyone need a garnish tool?

Why would you waste time garnishing?  ;)

> (Shane you are too kind and I'm flattered beyond
> words to be put in the company of Whitman)....

You're probably Whitman re-incarnated...  I really do still have your post
on the subject from so many months ago...

> I'm like my insides start to vibrate and I want to
> jump up and down and run to get people off the street
> and make them read it and try to get them to
> understand how perfect it is and right...

But you can't, and it's a terrible, sad thing that you cannot.  I have tried
on various occasions, with little result.  Sometimes, though, it just
happens.  I don't know if it's actually a gift anyone can give you.  I think
you have to discover it on your own...

I think my love of the outdoors started very early. One of my earliest
memories was on a Saturday when I was watching TV. My father came in and
hollered, "It's too nice a day to be inside watching TV! Turn the damned
thing off and go play outside!"

As a teenager, some other boys and I had this great place in Alabama. As
teenagers, some friends and I would frequent what we knew as Fox Mountain; a
smallish, rocky, densely wooded mountain with a bald, grassy peak that had
very nice views of a large lake and the surrounding countryside. This was
just outside Montgomery, on the Jordan River. Twenty years ago,  here was a
small time gravel pit operating there, and we knew the foreman, who in turn
knew the property owner, and we secured permission to hike and camp in what
eventually became our own private wilderness area. The gravel pit took up a
very small area in this magnificent landscape, and we had several hundred
acres all to ourselves. We would hike, wander, swim in the lake, dive off a
forty-foot high cliff, bathe in a waterfall, build campfires, eat camp food,
stay up all night, and generally act like savages without any adults to tell
us what to do. We never got into any trouble, because there wasn't any
trouble to find. We'd stay for weeks until the food ran out. Howling at the
moon, building HUGE bonfires, playing cat and mouse with the resident bear,
swinging from the trees, climbing on the rocks, and generally living a
fantasy life. We never went to bed before midnight, never got up before
sunrise, and almost never wore clothes. We became somewhat legendary in
those parts, and rumors  that wild men live among the trees are still told
in
the local store. These rumors were evidently wildly  exaggerated and spread
by the gravel pit workers, who knew who we were, but had to tell a bigger
lie than the next guy to keep the story interesting. We were actually
'hired' to scare the new guys, whenever one was brought on...

Somewhere in this time I became totally human. We all did, for one reason or
another. I can specifically remember laying on top of Fox mountain one night
with Tommy and Glenn. We'd lay head to head and watch the stars slide across
the sky. Some clouds came in and it started raining on us and none of us
cared in the slightest. When the other boys came looking to see what
we had gotten up to, they found us rolling around in the grass having a
'ground massage'. You'll see dogs and other animals do this from time to
time. They do it for a reason... For some reason, standing there in the
midnight sky as the clouds cleared and the stars came back on, we all had a
kind of epiphany that we would talk about for years to come. We were human
beings, and we were all awake. We swore a blood oath to one another that
very night to always rescue the others should this ever be forgotten. We
thought that the mood might pass and we would be consumed by the hungry jaws
of civilization. Over the years, rescues have been few. We did kidnap Chuck
two days before his wedding, drug him out into the woods, stripped him down,
dunked him in the river, and beat him with a stick until he remembered who
he was. It was a close call with Chuck... Thought we had lost him to the
grownups... Fortunately, a large bonfire, a roll in the leaves, several
cookies, and half a lasagna later, he was much better. Got him to the church
on time too, although his wife-to-be was ready to call the police and report
him missing... Still have to watch him sometimes, but I
think he'll be OK. He has learned not to speak the words, "I don't have time
for all that childish nonsense!"   That's sure to have him carried off in
the middle of the night, wrapped in a blanket, dumped in the trunk...  His
wife is evidently amused by this and opens the door for us... I think she
likes him better after he's had an 'adjustment'... "Be sure to bring that
blanket back, boys! Try to have him back by 6:00 on Sunday!"

Anyway...

> Sing you beautiful holy man! Sing!

Oh, you haven't heard the half of me yet!  LOL!  If you haven't seen it yet,
you might be interested in Lessons of Infinity, which I wrote.  It's
available by downloading All My Dangers II and skipping to page 71.  You can
get to it here:

http://www.theplacewithnoname.com/voiceoftheuniverse/

"It is the night, and the lessons of infinity trouble my waking dream as
voices in the dreamtime sing to me
of futures unremembered. I listen closely for awhile,
but eventually the voices fade into the background of
the universe and I am left listing to the sound of the
planets and the sound of the stars. Gradually, I become aware of new
voices - the voices of the mountain spirits; the Tengu. The Ice Giants are
in their number, and no power have I to resist their call. I rise, and go
out into the night..."

> And the lumbering bears too and the magic deer and
> the circling, gliding hawks and the twisting,
> gleaming snakes and the chattering rain and the
> shuddering, laughing, clapping, regal trees and all
> the rest of it and the impossible good fortune,
> totally improbable, completely miraculous rush of
> beingness.  Connect.  Let it blaze in you like
> wildfire.  Let it all pour from you, through you,
> like a waterfall!

Who's the singer now, eh?  "Rush of beingness"...  Now that I'm going to
have to steal...

I prefer to let 'it' flow from and through me like an avalanche rather than
a waterfall.  'Once the avalanche has begun, the pebbles have no choice.'

I didn't write it, but lately I've been stuck on:

"Before my body dies,
I pray
That the river I was born to
Will again wash over me."

Talk about goosebumps...

> And this too from Ed Abbey sent to me the other day
> by Grey Owl:
>
> >"A venturesome minority will always be eager to set
> >off on their own, and no obstacles should be placed
> >in their path; let them take risks, for godsake, let
> >them get lost, sunburnt, stranded, drowned, eaten by
> >bears, buried alive under avalanches - that is the
> >right and privilege of any free American."

Yes!  Yes!  Now why wasn't this posted to the list!?

Ed Abbey, Kalil Gibran, Robert Service, and Walt Whitman, among others,
should all be required reading in grad school.  The idea that my child will
have to read Pygmalian is almost enough to make me home school...

> Every step of the way.  I'm in tears from the simple
> joy of it!  Bless you a million times a million you
> wonderful man for being such a mind and such a
> soul!  Such illumination, such wisdom, is so rare.

Thank you very kindly.

> Gear.  Personally I hate gear talk!  I always have.
> Before I went on the Trail, when I was on ATML, I was
> always poking fun at it.  I know it's important but
> there's so much more that's so much more important.

I can actually tolerate the gear talk, because on some level it is
important - and it belies, after all, the end goal of getting out of the
jaws of civilization.

What I can't understand is people who would read something like, "the wind
speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the
blades of grass" and "Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare
feet and the winds long to play with your hair.", and not be moved to act.
Rather, the majority hide from the bare earth, and the wind, and the trees,
and the mountains, all the while eating the cold ashes of their own fear and
misery.  Fearing to die, but fearing to live life.  How profoundly sad!  To
use Kalil some more, "Only when you drink from the river of silence shall
you indeed sing!  And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall
begin to climb!  And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you
truly dance!"

But, alas, someone is going to tell me that I'm off topic and need to be
filtered.  Why some would desire to eat cold ashes is beyond my simple
understanding...  But it's not a place you can rescue someone from.

> Is this not absolutely perfect?  YES!  Baby the only
> reason I'M on this list right now is because I can't
> be away from this apartment.  I'm busy trying
> to simplify my life.  The minute this apt. is sold
> and I'm moved, I'm outta here.

Well, stay in touch better than you did last time.  Send me a postcard or
something...  When you leave us with, "I wonder if Curtis is bleeding in a
ditch somewhere?", it ruins my whole day.

> Shane you are such an open, generous soul.  Thank you
> Leslie Harder for posting a message that inspired
> Shane to such rhapsody.

Yeah, thanks Leslie.  Sorry you had to go eat the cold ashes of your own
bitterness.

> Goosebumped Balls

Oh, I'm not going to touch that...I mean...I'm not going to go there...
Ah... Skip it...

> PS. And Felix is a Trail Buddha isn't he?  How
> perfect!

He just needs to put on a little weight...

Shane