The SIV Clinic

Well, well, well. Honestly did not realize just how little energy I would have left after getting fried in 108 degree heat, while drinking at least a gallon and a bit of water, chasing that down with with a half a gallon of gatorade all the while paying attention to my own and other people's flights as Enlau's voice would be constantly in my ear - because it is just too much trouble to get the duct tape out of my ear that is holding the headset in - whilst it detouches in a particularly spectacularly scary flight. Not much. Hence, no daily blog entries. Hope to catch up however.

After a thirteen hours of driving that netted my buddy David and resulted in exchange of the convertible - we were finally touching down at the town of Coulterville. Coulterville is some two and a half hours away from San Francisco on the way to Yosemety. Anyhow, after just four hours of sleep we were up and ready to go. We met our little crew by the famous Boat House store - Enlau, Ann, Camrine O'Connors and Anna Kay, Jurgan and Jack. Nova joined us a day later.

First day promised to be relatively uneventful, with everyone just getting into the swing of things until my big crazy flight. Let's just say the leather gloves don't stand a chance against cevlar lines... and the strange scars around my wrist will be fun to explain for a while.

Route 46 between 101 and 1.

I have travelled this cross over route some years back, that time not
alone. It is puzzling and comforting to see the same spots that
cought my eye before - and have not changed a day since. Same ground
squirrels grace the peisage as they did before. Funny, saw a
hitchhiker flagging a ride and passed him by due to a generally
scragly appearance... then felt bad and turned back only to realize
the guy has just as scragly of a dog in tow... so I decided to leave
him behing again. Is that "double jeopardy" on some existencial
plain? The turn back brought me to the same overlook as I have
visited with someone else. Twice. all those years back. I don't
know, may be my good deed for the day was helping these two guys
change a tire and I am done? Must be. Actually, kinda interracted
with a surprising many people for a lonely drive! Even raced a couple
with the jet skies in tow in a most friendly way - California is odd,
may be I should move here for a while?

California, here I come!

in my own way I am "one step closer to hitting buttom" (obviously a "Fight Club" quote) and, at least in my mind, becoming a paragliding bum. I am heading to California, straight from work. Will drive around for a day, seeing friends and family and then three days of maneuvers training with Enlau and Ann O'Connors. Will try to post daily updates of this trip.

so, I rented a kick ass, drop dead gorgeous red Sebring convertible and after also procuring a decent dashboard mounted GPS system headed down the highway to Alan's and Roya's house. I never suspected just how much fun driving a convertible could be!!! Definetly up there among the most liberating experiences... and this is coming from a guy who is in Cali to practice aerobatic maneuvers! Incredible fun. Got to spend a bit of time with Alan and Roya and planning to connect with some more folks before heading down the coast tomorrow.

Moonrise, the full moon of June.

Just witnessed the most spectacular moonrise I have ever seen. The red slither on the right of the Whitestone Bridge grew dangerously pregnant at an incredible rate until it burst into the sly smile of the red moon bearing down on the outline of the city with all it's lights, and planes and cars... It grew and grew until the precarious moment of hanging right in the middle of the span of the bridge, just long enough for the brain to register the happenstance of the moment... and unceremoniously moved on. It is traveling along the sky getting brighter and rounder with each passing moment.

...I just settled down to have a meal of stir fried string beans and chicken sausage when I stared out to see this spectacle of a gracious circle of the full moon. The whole thing took no longer than for me to woof down the plate-full of my dinner. All I had time to realize that my expensive SLR camera is happily resting in the downstairs garage and running to get it would simply deprive me of the sight and frustrate me even more. I took a picture with my camera phone instead.



...I am moving from my apartment in the Bronx. The apartment I have raved about to everyone for the incredible view of the city. The view that got me to sign the lease before being quite certain of the number of rooms or the price of the rent. The view that starts from the George Washington Bridge, skims along the entire city below and gets lost somewhere upstate. The view that I so rarely had a chance to enjoy with someone else.

I know it is time to move but I will miss this apartment, this view and these two years - two years right after residency, two years of growing up

Muddied experiences

This is an odd observation. Keeps trickling into my consciousness every now and then. It seems that the longer one lives and the richer the pallet of experience becomes - more difficult it is to get the pure, original experience. Let me explain - if I have never seen a waterfall - the first waterfall is the first "original" experience - nothing to fall back onto. The second, third, fourth - human nature is to say - aha, "this is just like..." Same goes for human experiences - the relationships, losses, arguments - one trickles into another. Yes, this is teaching us lessons, the whole "psychic determinism" concept rests on this in a bit roundabout way... but there is more to what I am trying to say. Life, inevitably becomes dull rehashing of things past. The new experience to matter needs to be so unique and powerful that chances of having the child's wonder drops off and the days get shorter... A little sad.

Fight the power of lots of cash...

"If there was ever a moment for a ruckus to be raised..."

...now is the moment.

Hmm, seems like a good time for an awareness campaign.

Nice. Just re-read the previous post...

Just re-read the previous post and amazingly enough I still stand by my statement. I think is going to be my new declaration.

Secondly, this is a great video blog - incredibly relatable stories by any immigrant, especially from the Soviet Block - http://mylifewithbadenglish.blogspot.com/ a blog by Andrei Litvinov, "My Life With Bad English".