When you're 86...

Wisconsin Memorial  Union Remodeling

So -- what? Like another 20 years? I hope I can wait that long.

The second phase of this remodeling project has now begun. Peet's is closed and will open again in its new location -- somewhere in the remodeled east end -- vacating the current location in what used to be the arcade.

They have moved the ice cream place into one of those little rooms across from the Stiftskeller and they serve coffee there as well. On my first visit I bought one of these coffees (my Peet's coffee card wouldn't work since Peet's is gone.) I sat down in the Rathskeller but as you can see from the pictures below, it's very weird in there now. The room is still open but all the arches are boarded over and it is very claustrophobic.

It is also very empty, at least at 8:00 in the morning. Not a soul sitting and rarely anyone walking through. No background music. No conversations. Nobody studying or reading. No teachers meeting with students. No friends meeting and talking about the day (or night). Just very quiet stillness and, perhaps a couple ghosts.

So I will give the 'new' Union a try. Next bike ride to campus I will stop at the Union South. I hear they have a Peet's coffee shop.

September 2015 - so it starts

Feels a little claustrophobic

Rathskeller is deserted -- feels like a dungeon.

Diggin the trees.

There's a fence around the UW Memorial Union parking lot this morning. It extends into the street (Langdon St.) and almost blocks my access to The Union from the east. My bike and I are forced onto the sidewalk to pass between these construction 'pens' as I make my way to Peet's for coffee. This too will close in August for the second phase of remodeling.  But this isn't about fences -- or Peet's.

The old parking lot had a center island with nice trees. As I am writing this, these are being cut down and chipped.  The plans call for replacing these trees -- and the parking lot -- with a green space (pedestrian mall) and hopefully, more trees.  I like this idea of  more green space, and I believe this will be an improvement to the campus. But, did they have to cut down the trees?

I've noticed more and more that trees get in the way of progress.  When they decide to improve  a road, or erect a building or some other monument to civilization, the first thing to go are the trees. Young or old, it doesn't seem to matter. There seems to be no thought whatever given to this life that will be lost. It is a mere blip on their radar that is easily torpedoed. "We'll just plant a new one." seems to be the attitude. "It's easy and, after all, it's good for the economy."(These days anything that is 'good for the economy' is considered sacred.)

For the past 20 years I have been planting trees in an attempt to establish a woodlot. One thing that I have learned is that Nature is much better at planting trees than I am. She knows which tree species (or individual) will thrive in a certain spot -- and which will not. No matter how much I study, or how much I think I know, my efforts are little more than guesses.  So when a tree grows and thrives in nature there is a reason for this that involves much more than merely whether a seed lands on the ground.

A professor of mine once told me that when you learn all the things that can kill trees, you will give up trying to raise them. There are soil conditions, nutrients, water, and climate that determine if a seed will sprout. Then the seedling must survive competition (eg. grass, weeds and other trees),  animal browse (eg. deer, rabbits, gophers, and mice), winter kill, hunters in their trucks, herbicide drift from neighbor's corn fields (or lawns),  deer rub,  pruning 'accidents'.  Or simply trying to plant the wrong tree in the wrong place (or time).

So with all these things working against success, it's a real accomplishment when a tree manages to grow up to be big and strong -- and, dare I say, happy. But then comes along a new 'boss' with a different idea and suddenly this tree is in the wrong place and has to go. Who knows, they may end up planting a new tree right where the old one stood (it is to become a green space after all). But these days it's easier and more economical (there's that word again) to bring in the heavy equipment; wipe the slate clean; start over from scratch.

After all, it's for the good of progress. It's for the good of the economy. It's just too bad for that tree.

Flies are Amazing

Every Tuesday morning, Jack takes a walk down to the local coffee shop where he joins a bunch of his old high school buddies for an hour or so of smart talk and/or tall tales. On this fine Tuesday morning in June, everyone seems to have something better to do than sit and drink coffee. So today it's just Jack and Glen Denning. Glen is probably the only guy in town who is farther 'out there' than Jack. 

" I never realized how amazing flies are."; Glen leaned back in his chair and took another bite out of his Danish.

"Flies?"

"Yeah, you know those iridescent green flies."

"Okay. What's so special about them?" I asked; "They're flies."

"No, listen to this."

"Oh boy," I thought, "here we go."

"I was out in the woods yesterday, working on my hunting stand, you know, cutting sight lines so I could get a better shot at the deer. Clearing brush and that, you know." He brushed some crumbs off his chest and leaned toward me and said softly; "You know, I stopped in here for one of those great greasy steak and egg breakfasts and then headed out to the woods."

I wasn't sure why he was whispering.

He continued aloud; "Well I was just cutting away and having a great time when I got this rumbling feeling in my stomach. Just a little gas, I thought, and it would pass." He laughed at his own joke. "But it didn't, you know. It started cramping and I kinda knew where this was going so I put down the saw and started heading for the car. I figured that I'd better get to the house and take care of this."

"This isn't going where I think it's going, is it?" I said as I looked at my half eaten Danish."

"No, listen." He said. "This is cool."

"So." He continued; " I got in the car and started it up but the cramps were getting worse -- and fast. So I got out of the car. I figured I was gonna have to take care of this right away. You know, old style."  He laughed again. "So I had to find a tree to lean back against. I was wearing my big boots and saw chaps so it's not safe to just squat -- you gotta lean back against something in order to get a clear shot at the ground."

"You said this was about flies?" I asked -- hoping to change the subject.

"Yeah, I'm getting to that." He said; "Well, by now I was cramping really bad that I knew that I couldn't hold it much longer.  I leaned back against the first tree I could find and started  tearing at my chaps buckle and belt. I was holding as hard as I could but it wasn't enough to stop the inevitable."

I pushed away the Danish.

"I dropped the pants and chaps down to my boot tops and slid down the tree trunk into full squat but the deed was half done. I was able to clear my pants and my boots so I was feeling a little better -- until I looked at my underwear. You've had kids. You know what a full diaper looks like." He laughed.

"Yeah, I've seen a few of them."

"Well trust me, this was worse. Lucky I was wearing tighty whities. It was all 'contained' you know. But now there I was; stuck, you might say, with my back against the tree and full pants. How do I extricate myself without doing more 'damage'".

"You said this was about flies, right?"

"Patience. I'm getting to that. Well lucky for me, I had my hunting knife -- I always carry that when I'm in the woods. You know; habit. So I took out the knife and cut the underwear off through the leg openings and waistband. Folded it up like a diaper and tossed it clear (for now)." Then I grabbed some leaves from one of the bushes I'd just cut and wiped as well as I could. It's a far cry from Charmin, you know - leaves. But what are you gonna do, you know."

"We're really spoiled, I guess." I smiled.

"So I worked my way back up to standing and pulled my pants up again. But you know what's amazing? There were already a dozen or so of those flies just eating happily away on that shit. It was only like a minute. Where did they come from?"

"Out of thin air - you might say." I laughed.

"Yeah, I guess." He said; smiling. "But seriously; isn't that amazing."

"What's amazing is that you told me that story this while I was eating."

"But those flies can't just be everywhere. Can they? They must have an incredible sense of smell to pick that up so fast." 

"Maybe they are everywhere and we just don't see them until someone shits in the woods."

"Whatever, I still think it's amazing. Can you imagine how useful they could be if we could train them to be -- like bloodhounds. They could track down fugitives by smell. Or find lost kids."

"And once we train these flies how do we track them? Tiny little GPS transmitters attached to their tiny little legs?"

"Yeah, funny. You know, I'm just saying."

He sat back and sipped his coffee. After a while he said; "We'd have to train swarms of them and then we could follow the swarm with a drone or something."

"How do you train a fly?"

"I don't know. It must be coded in their genes, you know, to sense the smell of food. All we need to do is find out what gene codes for the smell of shit and change it to code for the smell of lost boy."

"Simple." I laughed. "Then we only need to inject that new DNA into millions of maggots and we're all set."

Glen nodded and said; "You'd probably need to modify the mother fly before she produced her eggs to get this to work. How long does it take for fly eggs to hatch and maggots to turn into flies?"

"I don't know. By then the lost boy would probably be dead and you'd have to change the gene to code for dead lost boy."

"Still, " Glen smiled as he finished off the last bite of his Danish, "you've gotta admit, flies are pretty amazing."

Bottle Fly, aka Blow Fly, aka Cadaver Fly

Dream in layers

When insomnia hits at 3:00 AM I put in my earbuds and listen to books on tape. I replay old stories that I already know very well so there is no suspense left. It's like when I was a child and my mother used to read to me at bedtime. The voice of the storyteller pushes from my mind all the thoughts and worries that have kept me from sleep. 

These books span many tapes (CD's) and I play copies of them on my ipod using the music app. This app will just quit (and 'turn off') when it get's to the end of each tape so I start listening in the middle of the 'tape' so that it won't keep playing and wake me up again after I doze off. I have figured out the timing, over the years, and it's usually foolproof.

The other night, after starting the story and settling my head back in the pillow I was trying to talk to someone and I couldn't hear them because of the storyteller was talking too loud. I turned the volume down so that I could hear. But as we continued our conversation the story teller was still too loud. So I pressed the pause button on the earbuds to get the story teller to shut up. The story teller kept talking and I still couldn't hear the conversation. So I pulled the earphone plug out of the ipod (this always stops whatever app is playing.) But the storyteller kept talking.

By now I was getting pretty annoyed. I wanted to hear the conversation and all I was hearing was this story that I'd heard a million times. I was annoyed enough, in fact, to wake up and really pull the plug out of the real ipod. The storyteller finally was silent  -- but the conversation had ended, along with my dream.

The 'reinvestment' of the UW Memorial Union

I have seen the 'renovation' plans. I have voted on which chairs I like for each new area. And now as  I walk through the halls of the University of Wisconsin Memorial Union I try to soak it all in so that I will remember it when it's gone.

I do remember it; as I sit in Peet's Coffee Shop and write, I remember when this space was a video arcade. I remember that it was always hot in here - and loud. It's still warm but instead of the ringing of the pinball and songs of Pacman and phasers of Centipedes there is quiet classical music playing in the background.  My kids loved that arcade but they're grown and gone now. And now I prefer Peet's. So some change is good, I guess. 

According to the plans, the Rathskeller will remain un-touched. I'm thankful for this because, to me The 'Rat" is the heart of this place - if not the soul.  I remember that it welcomed me like a comfortable old friend when I arrived as a seventeen-year-old freshman in the 60's - fresh off the farm and scared to death. I ended up spending long hours here. I met many people; some of whom would become my friends, accomplices, mentors, and compatriots. We studied here. We drank and partied here, too.
We warmed up on cold winter nights here. We gathered and talked and laughed and thought about all the world's problems and all life's wonders. And we conspired to master them all. So yes, I remember; because it became part of the substrate upon which I developed my self.  It was -- and still is -- a unique place where students, staff, alumni and friends can gather and build (rebuild) their selves in some unique way.

But I do understand how time and age can affect old friends - even buildings. I have heard this remodeling effort called a 'rejuvenation'. I can see that. I wish it were as easy to 'rejuvenate' me - or my friends.  As long as rejuvenate doesn't mean reprogram.

And I do understand progress. In the 60's there was no need for a coffee shop or an ice cream store. These have been added to the Union by tucking them into a corner here and there (like that old arcade). The new plans call for each to have it's own proper space within the context of the overall environment. Easier access, better seating, and more efficient service.  

To my mind, there is only one Union on the UW campus. They tried building another one on the south side of campus in the 70's. This was a flop (I wasn't the only one who hated it). Now they've built a new Union South and I have to admit that it's pretty nice. But when I tell someone to meet me at The Union,  I still mean The Memorial Union.

This fall they will close the Union to begin construction. I will miss The Union while it's doors are closed and I will feel the loss. I hope this loss will only be temporary. I look forward, with hope, for it's return.

Hotel California

I miss having my guitar along on this trip. It's been almost 2 weeks and my fingers are growing soft and dumb. I bought a new case so I could take it along on this trip but at the last minute I decided that both laptop and guitar were too much to keep track of on trains, buses, cars, hotels and all. So I chose the laptop. Next time I will leave the laptop at home.

One night in Las Vegas, a Hawiian/Ragae band was playing on one of the Freemont St. stages. I'm not a big fan of Regae  but these guys did mostly their own stuff and it was a nice mix. One song they did very well was "Hotel California" by the Eagles. It struck me that I should learn that. But since I didn't have my guitar, I'd have to wait. Meanwhile I tightened up the lyrics.

The thing about learning lyrics to an old classic that we've heard a million times (and sung along with nearly as many) is that the words are there but not the articles that hold them together;  the 'bricks' but not the 'mortar'. So I'm working on remembering whether it's a 'the' or an 'an' and all that. It does make a difference; each little word was chosen for a reason: "There she stood in the doorway...." could as easily be sung "As she stood..." but it wouldn't mean the same thing or fit as well with the rest of the thought.  So each brick has to be placed an each mortar has to hold it together and form the overall shape.

I look forward to getting my fingers on the strings. This will be a challenge. I don't think it will sound great with only one guitar but it might sound good - if I can manage. If not, at least I'll learn something by trying and then maybe use some of this to make something of my own.

Seems appropriate that this song was on my mind when we arrived in Laughlin. Our plans had us staying one night and traveling for 3 days to visit relatives - and 'impose' upon their hospitality. We learned that they were ill so we extended our hotel for one night. The next day they were still ill so we extended our hotel another night. ".... you can checkout any time you like, but you can never leave." [solo on the 'air' guitar for now - you know it, it's in your head now isn't it].

On revising the first draft - of 'so far'

The deep freeze has broken here in Wisconsin. The snow will all go this week and I'll be able to ride again. I am still walking to coffee because the bike lanes are still icy from the daily thaw and freeze at night.

I have all 33 chapters/parts of Jack Pynesapp and Red moved into Scriviner manuscript editor. I have done some reorganizing and a lot of repairing - things like grammar, voice, flow, etc. I am still troubled with how slowly the story starts. I think there's too much talking and not enough action. This is understandable since this project started as an exercise in writing dialog. But now that I have a better idea of where  the story is going, I can do some things early that start it moving that way.  This may be as easy as giving Jack some more back story. Like, who is this guy? We now know that Billy has been busy since the 'first' train ride; did Jack just blow that whole thing off? It is kind of implied that there is more to it but it may be way too subtle. Another Dream? Perhaps. Maybe Marge can help.

I am on schedule so far. I am caught up with getting what I have into manuscript form (and learning how that is done - and what it is, even) before we take our cross country train trip (leaving this week) where I hope to get more ideas about what this "ghost" train looks like and perhaps follow our characters on one, of more, of their trips  - once they figure out how to get a ride.

I am also thinking about a title. The one I have been using is too weak, I think. 

For now, I'd better start packing.