Travel Log #1

May 25, 2009

Yesterday, I went up to north Georgia with my father to drop off a friend at camp--as in the sleep-away camp I attended my entire life. For those of you who don't know, I was a hardcore camper between the ages of ten (beginning on my tenth birthday--the camp's first day of second session ever!) and seventeen, my last year. I haven't been up there in four years. We stayed for a few hours before returning home. (Oh, yes, I am over that crazy bug. No more fever, just asthma which will hopefully subside as soon as possible.)

Anyhow, on the way back down to Atlanta we hit the best storm I've seen in three years. I'd say there was maybe about 15% visibility out the windows, lightning everywhere, exploding right above us, and thunder, like the giants really bowling up above us in the sky.

If you've never experienced it, there's nothing like a real Southern thunderstorm. I've been waiting for a while to get back to them and for the climate to get back to normal--if possible. For the past fifteen years or more we've been in one of the most severe droughts since, probably, the Dust Bowl in the South East. Of course, instead of doing something intelligent or practical about it, we get the governor saying prayers on the steps of the state capital building instead of actual water restrictions when we need them. But maybe the gods do listen, what do I know? It has, indeed, begun to rain. Not just rain, but it rains like crazy, on time, everyday, in the afternoon. The gears of the clock are back on schedule. If only it continues to rain over Lake Lanier, the reservoir, we won't have to worry about the human population running out of water for the sake of the endangered freshwater mussel species down in Florida.

Yes, we (the state of Georgia) have been in a legal battle for over twenty years regarding our water supply being sucked away by Tennessee, parts of Alabama and Florida, and all complicated by the poor mussels' fate. It's still behind the scenes for the most part, but the battle exists. The moral of the story? Something most people don't dare to think about: North America going dry. Forget about oil, we're running out of water.

Anyway, the rain seems to be falling steadily and in the right places lately, so maybe all we'll have to worry about are the tornadoes soon enough. So--back those storms.

In high school, the world seemed dead around me, so when no one was looking, I'd take off and run out in the middle of those storms, take shelter inside the roots of trees down in the ravine below my house, and stick myself right in the middle of the charged atmosphere just to feel what living was like. The whole time I was fully aware of the danger in this, but that was the point. I could drown, I could get struck by lightning, but I could also survive and cheat death...and so, appreciate the minute beauties of life that make it worth living for.

Eventually, the storms would stop, the clouds would lift and it would be sun on a billion raindrops shining through the leaves. Sometimes, this happens in the middle of the storm. The cells crack open and reveal the sun and clear blue sky. It's still chaos on the ground. Nature doesn't give a damn about us, in other words, and we all think we're so important. I say, take a peek at a storm like that, or an ocean, or a desert, or the vastness of space and tell me otherwise.

Moving on--

Went to a music store today: Ken Stanton over by the Big Chicken. Bought the much-needed strings for Martin and got them light. Mediums are too stressful, especially with that lovely crack down the center of his face. According to many instrumental professionals, at least. I also investigated a lighter, less expensive case for traveling with him. I'll get it. $64. The old case is just about dead anyway. It's been all over the world with me and Martin, and duct tape just isn't holding it together anymore. The new case will travel, too, but I'll be less worried now that I'm not dealing with disintegrating wood and a dying hand from carrying heavy instruments in heavier cases all over the place.

This is all there is for now. I have four weeks to get funding, a visa, housing, and a phone for Israel. Let the stress begin again. At least I won't be bored. I 'm going to go read--Neil Gaiman. Now that school is over (for a month) I have time to read for once because I'm not too busy reading.

Hope all is well. Now, we're back on the schedule. Sorry again for the double email today. They'll be more spaced out from now on.