Heartless
Bastards baby! They are rocking my world right now.
Dane
had an ‘afternoon with the White Stripes’ in the gym yesterday. He and I were
debating the merits of Black Math, a
few days prior, a song, which, I might argue, is about as hard as a rock and
roll song can get. I listened to it several times out running with the dogs in
the forest this week. Gets the juices flowing.
I am
sat at the kitchen table in the small cabin that Kevin’s parents rented for the
weekend adjacent to Elk Mountain. I just made him turn the fire off (it’s gas,
so you can do that), because it’s an oven in here. There is a sauna downstairs,
but nobody wants go in it naked with me. Kevin is my sister Kaitie’s boyfriend.
Her
and I (Kate) were out early this morning on the mountain (if you can call it
that. It is only the second time I have skied since our Tahoe trip in college,
so I won’t complain. The skiing was remarkably decent). I left the house at
5:58 this morning, two full minutes before I anticipated, and made fabulous
time on the highway, despite several patches of zero-visibility fog. I did not
have to stop en route. I was early, so took a few runs before Kevin dropped
Kate off (only after waiting in line for ten minutes at the rental shop,
mentally swearing at myself because I left my poles at home. Rentals were five
dollars), and then met her by the American flag outside the lodge. We skied for
five solid hours without stopping, enjoying a beautifully sunny morning and a
surprisingly snow-covered hill (there wasn’t a trace of it on the road until
about five minutes before I got here, which did not bode well). Upper
Tunkhannock was all bumped up (!). Until the sun disappeared and it got icy. Little
kids practicing their snowplow technique in the moguls kept cutting me off on
my last two runs. Then we quit.
I
came home from Sweden about two weeks ago now, on a Sunday, to be with my dad
at home to help take care of my mom. Ask me sometime and I’ll tell you about
her, but I’m not interested in writing about it. It was sad leaving Mia, but
sometimes it is okay to be sad for a while. It’s not about us this time around.
Dad
encouraged me to come skiing with Kate and Kevin this weekend. I felt slightly
guilty, because somebody has to be home all the time, and with me away, that
somebody is now dad, who had gotten back into a more or less normal routine
with the family business since I came home, precisely the reason for me doing
so (mostly). If there is one thing my mom’s health is teaching us, it is to get
out and live as much of life as you possibly can. So I came skiing, partly
because of that, but partly because it’s also important to keep family as the
number one priority, and Kate fits the bill there. Dad was happy to stand in
for two days so I could spend some time with my little sister.
---
I
heard a song in the car by Ani DiFranco on XPN called Whose side are you on? Unsurprisingly it was vehemently political,
actually calling for some ‘socialism’ in America, which I assume was meant to
ruffle some feathers. The chorus asks you to pick a side. Hence the title.
When
the dust settles, people need to live with each other. I feel like this
sentiment is getting lost in the shuffle, whether in politics now with a
looming election, or globally.
During
a few of my SFI (‘Swedish for Immigrants’ – or ‘Idiots’, depending on who you
asked) courses in January, I was interacting with many folks from Iraq, Iran,
Afghanistan and northern Africa. It’s not difficult to imagine the
conversations, which were in Swedish – part of the lesson – and decidedly
simplistic, which was the point. I chatted with Makhmoud (from Iraq) and we
asked each other the typical introductory questions – where are you from? what
do you do for a living? how come you’re in Sweden, etc etc. I touched on this
before, but Makhmoud is a refugee, who fled Iraq thanks to the war between
America and his own country. We never got into whether or not he fled for fear
of his life, for political reasons against the USA, for political reasons
against Iraq or whatever. Obviously he fled because of war, but I’m not sure
whose side he was on. But I felt oddly uncomfortable in that situation
explaining that I had met my Swedish wife on a backpacking trip in New Zealand,
and that I was here of my own accord and living more or less in pixieland while
my countrymen are killing his ‘brothers’ (and them my countrymen).
That
situation was difficult for me to reconcile, and I could not shake my unease.
And Makhmoud was one of the most genuine, friendly people I have come across as
a stranger, did not seem at all uneasy speaking with an American (a sentiment I
have gotten all over the world in fact. Most people I talk to who have a
negative opinion of America direct that opinion towards our foreign policy and
not our individuals. Kind of the same way American’s who have a negative
opinion about America feel. Like there is some greater force at work at home
that creates the ‘America’ people disagree with, while the American people
abroad generally are well-liked. American’s abroad claiming to be Canadian is
just stupid). At the time, it felt inappropriate to even be talking with him
(Makhmoud) due to the conflict between our countries. We have to live together
when the dust settles. Was I beyond that? Did he think the same thing? Was
there resentment? Must we choose a
side Ani DiFranco? Or can we freaking work it out on the same side. When a
competition creates higher stakes than that of a game or a sport, the
consequences of ‘winning’ can be scary. Nobody
ever actually wins in real life.
---
For
the weekend I am going to enjoy the skiing and the camaraderie. Kevin just
broke out his binder of information he’s collected on the Appalachian Trail. In
less than a month he’ll set of from Georgia, walking north, and won’t stop
until he gets to Maine. He’s tackling the whole thing in one go, packing forty
pounds on his back and making a run for it. His last day of work was on
Wednesday, and the boss let him leave early.
I am
almost unfathomably envious of him right now – for three years the only thing
Mia and I focused on was getting our boat across the Atlantic (and the
wedding), and after such a huge summer last year, we’ve sort of reached an
anticlimax, a calm period where we don’t quite know what to do with ourselves. There
is nothing to plan anymore – it’s suddenly easy to understand why some people
never leave the dock.
---
I
had intended on ending this post just there, but I had to add a description of
the community game room in this little development of cabins we’re in at Elk,
the only place where there is wireless internet (and where Kevin and I had to
come just so I can post this online).
There
is a small gray building, ‘adjacent to that little white one over there,’ the
concierge at the small check-in desk told us. Downstairs is a pool and a hottub
where little kids are making noise. Upstairs – where we are – is the actual
game room, a place that I think can only possible exist in upstate
Pennsylvania. A pool table is the dominant feature of the room, with a small
gym (a stationary bike, treadmill and weight machine) at the top of the stairs
(no kidding, in the midst of everything, which would be odd if you actually
wanted to work out. I imagine it does not get much use). Two skylights provide
the ambience, and a pair of ceiling fans hang from the slanted roof. An old
jukebox is at the far end of a line of 1990’s era arcade games, including a
submarine game called ‘Sea Wolf’ and a shooting game called ‘Extreme Hunting 2:
Tournament Edition’ (this game has audio, and every 30 seconds or so a dude
comes over a speaker and announces the title of the game). Next to that is a
classic Pac-Man machine, a ‘Cruisin’ USA’ (remember that?), a Star Trek pinball
machine and finally a change machine for quarters.
On
the opposite wall is one of those games that gives away prizes, not dissimilar
to the ones with the hook that lets you think you can grab something. Then
there is another hunting game (‘Deer Hunting USA’), another shooting game,
aptly titled ‘Target: Terror’ (the ‘o’ in Terror has a crosshairs on it). And
of course a soda machine (RC Cola!) and a snack machine filled with Fritos corn
chips. Actually I just noticed there is
one of those hook grabber games, right next to the jukebox. Missed that one.
Kevin
and I are sat in white wicker chairs around a round outdoor table you might
find adjacent to a pool in summertime. An American flag hangs on the wall
behind me over a dusty piano. Last but not least, there is a ‘Love Fever’
machine, where ostensibly two people touch their fingers to a sensor and the
machine tells you how hot your love fever is.
