Thursday, August 25, 2011

Geo & God


I miss my friend and colleague George Blooston. I've been thinking about our Thursday afternoon jaunts to the 8th street farmers market in DC.  He always purchased a freshly made empanada, or 3---occasionally adding fresh peaches, heirloom tomatoes, or a pint of mushrooms to take home to share with his family. He always ate an empanada on the spot and was quick to offer a treat to a friend.  George's passion, emphatic intellectual wit, his easy comforting demeanor, his joy of life will be greatly missed.
George wrote the following last week; God and journalists are often at opposite poles, one all knowing, one all seeking, searching for wider perspective.” George fought harder than any of us know against an aggressive cancer with a team of experts in the field at his side. Short of his hopes it, the cancer returned with a vengeance. His recent battle was more difficult than I can ever imagine though through my ears and eyes his spirit never waned.
His resolve to stay here with his family was vetoed this past Tuesday August 23, 2011. I imagine him arm wrestling God with his right hand while speaking loudly-- clearly, telling God that the almighty made a mistake. Perhaps the wider perspective is understood. There is one thing I know for sure.  The earth shook rather aggressively the day George left us. We all ran outside into a beautiful day.
I am fortunate for having known George.  I pray that Jeanne, Leo, and Isabelle will be comforted by George’s spirit. His legacy lives on in all who were lucky enough to know him.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

IT IS WHAT IT IS



A near accident startled me this weekend. I narrowly avoided being hit by a speeding car at a fairly new four-lane intersection at the entrance to my street. Several years ago the approach to my house was a simple fork in the road.  All of the roads were quiet, wooded sleepy lanes nestled with summer cabins and cottages.

 In the past bearing right was all you needed to do. When giving driving directions I simply said, "Bear right at the fork in the road and continue up the hill. Simple."

Today there is a four-way intersection. The road to the left continues to be identified as Sunset Beach Road and what used to be a sleepy lane straight ahead is still called Bowers Lane. It’s much wider than it used to be and leads directly to a new highway. My road, the path to the right, is now called Beaumont Drive.  My new, old street. Some locals pronounce the fairly new name Boo-mont. I identify it as Bow-mont. Momentarily there is no way out of Beaumont. The road was just washed away by a flash flood.

I can’t find the street sign to this neglected state road. I think West Virginia misplaced the street during the re-naming of rural roads for 911 emergencies, a change in mapping that makes it easier for emergency response teams to find people in need.

Perhaps the state misplaced the street sign when the highway department built flood control drainage and changed the intersection at Beaumont and Sunset to accommodate the runoff all the new asphalt and concrete for recently completed highway 43.

I am certain no one could find me today because there is no street sign identifying the road on which I reside.  I suppose if someone had GPS tracking device they may find my street. When I Google my address on Google Earth a neighbors house at least 100 yards away is located with the Google zoom feature. I am actually fine with this Google faux pas. I think in most cases I would rather not be found by someone entering my address into a computer. I feel comfort knowing my home coordinates are not correct in the cybersphere. I guess I might be screwed if the bank or government started using Google mapping to prove property ownership. Of course, neighbors know exactly where I live as well as the taxman. The coordinate error led to the wrong location being pictured in my recent appraisal included in my mortgage documents. I didn't mention it. Should I have mentioned it? 

Can you truly be invisible? Can you live off the grid? You may be able to avoid being found if only for a while.  Eventually someone may appear out of nowhere. And there smack dead center into your nowhere another junction of dysfunction to reckon. 

It is what it is, so to speak.