Air conditioning, air travel, a change for the different

I had to turn on my air conditioning as I didn't want my house to be in the high 80's. I have it set at 80 to fight off the fact that I don't have sufficient insulation in my attic to prevent the heat absorbed from the sun all day. I'll need to work on that, and I have some steps I'm taking.

But, I want to point out that the sound of the mechanism at times sounds just like a plane as its banking around, trying to get to its destination. I hear that sound and I think back to all the trips I've had the fortune and blessings to take to England. I hear them and I think of that feeling of excitement I get just as I'm about to land on the ground about to begin a new adventure.

These days, it seems there's a new adventure every single day, as I challenge myself to get around this community without driving. I know that every single one of those plane trips likely pumps out more C02 than a year of my car-trips. I'm aware of that.

Today at a public meeting, someone skeptical about climate change said that people who are advocating for change should take the first steps to behavioral change. I agree, and I proudly accept the challenge, and part of that means acknowledging I know I'm not perfect. I know some of my choices, such as to turn on my air conditioning, are related to my own comfort and desires.

I'm just one individual. I am loathe to tell anyone what to do, a legacy of years in journalism. But I am committed to leading my example, warts and all. None of us are perfect, but we're here. I hope that in each of your lives, there are small reminders of the joy of adventure. As I hear that sound again, I'm imagining myself above London, ready to hit the ground again to see my family.

And then I realize: I have a whole community here of which I am blessed to be a part. I'm grateful for the journey I am on.

The Phantom Menace at 20

Today is the 20th anniversary of the Phantom Menace debuting in theaters. I had been so excited when George Lucas announced he would be making more movies, but less excited they would be in the past. I was living in Arlington back then, or staying there temporarily. I don't know. It's a little hazy now, that part of my life, before I had a career, before another war in Iraq, before fathering my three children. I remember walking to the theater with the woman who would become my first wife and two friends who were in a band with me. I don't remember the exact theater we went to now. AMC Courthouse, perhaps? I was in the middle of leaving Arlington and the D.C. area, which didn't really seem to be my place. When the lights went down and the production title came up, 20th Century Fox fanfare, I felt complete in a way. I had waited so long to see another Star Wars, and there I was! When the Lucasfilm logo came on, and then the trademark crawl, I cried a little because I was so happy that I had made it, that I was still alive! I was so caught up in the movie, I didn't notice its flaws. And the flaws were so, so many. And now I have it on today, in the minutes before I go to see my youngest child's baseball game. I have an old VHS copy that's playing on a flat-screen television set-up in my kitchen. It doesn't need my full attention, but I'm still glad it's there, and I can see the good in this movie. There's a message throughout the entire series, I think, that helps form much of worldview. This isn't the screed in which I lay that all out there. But the main part is - see the good in things, if you can. Be wary of narratives that reduce complexity too much. Be calm through conflict. And try to remember a little of childish wonder, even if childhood itself wasn't always rosy. I conclude this missive with a link to Star Wars Minute, a podcast that has helped me enjoy this movie so much more than I did before. If only because the hosts and their guests love the idea of Star Wars even though the execution isn't always there. And that's okay. There's a lot of laughter, a lot of ribbing, and now I can't watch the Phantom Menace without laughing, in good-nature.

(this post may be edited later to add more information)

May 18, 2019 at the Court Square Tavern

I closed up Court Square Tavern an hour earlier from the scheduled time of 11:00 p.m. No one was coming in. Charlottesville has moved on from a time when younger people would drop in early on their way to the rest of their night. My last customer left at 8:00 pm, but I had a good time with the people who did come in for a relatively busy dinner hour. I made six meals in all, plus one appetizer for Lloyd and Susan who I didn't get a chance to talk to because I was busy cooking steak sandwiches for the four people who came in. I didn't know them at all, but when you come in to the tavern and want food, I'm going to do my best to make it for you. The four people have a mother who is in hospice here in Charlottesville, and they have been hoping to make it to the tavern in the weekends they've been coming here. They are now added to the many, many people who have come in who I've been able to serve a meal. My goal with every stranger who comes in is to make them leave feeling good and happy. I don't do it for the money as much as I do it for the sense that I've made people a bit happier about things. If only for a moment. I may work next Saturday, but the reality is that this town has grown up a lot in the past 15 years since I started working there, back in August 2004, at a time when my life was hopelessly lost. I found myself there, and working there gave me confidence to restart my career, a career that still continues to this day though I am in a different place now. I'm glad that Mason came in tonight. She always gives me a hard time about everything and is really tough on me. We always have almost the exact same conversation every time. She tells me to get over myself, and to calm down. I tell her I cannot because there's so much left to do. There's so much I need to do. I don't know what happens next. Tonight, I know I had a good evening, even though the place I work now isn't quite the same place I worked in the past. Sometimes I sense that there aren't too many more new memories to be made there, but I hope I'm wrong. Now it's past 11:00 pm and the mockingbird begins to sing outside. Perhaps I should listen.