'If You Build It, He Will Come'? Well...

With today being the 20th anniversary of the theatrical release of Field of Dreams, I thought this might be the time to confront one of my personal demons and make a confession "in print."

No, it's not that I didn't see the movie. Nothing like that. I've seen it several times. And if I'm flipping through channels and notice it's on, I'll watch. So I enjoy it, too. That's not what I'm confessing. The end made me cry like I was hormonal. "You wanna have a catch?" hit all those father-son issues - which I've always been a sucker for - right in the chest.

What I'm admitting today is this: I lived in Iowa for two years, and never once visited the actual "Field of Dreams."

I know, Shoeless Joe, I know. I can't explain it, either.

Iowa City is only a 90-minute drive from Dyersville, where the field is. (If my mother is reading this, it's actually a two-hour drive. Ahem.) And my two years at the University of Iowa included spending a summer there. Yes, I was taking classes the whole time (with a pretty heavy course load - really), but I couldn't have devoted a Friday or Saturday (or the random Tuesday) to making a trip?

However, I will point out that I did attend a lecture by the film's director, Phil Alden Robinson, when he visited campus, back in 2004 (probably to commemorate the movie's 15th anniversary). Does that take me off the hook at all? No, I know it's not enough.

Maybe the issue was that I would've visited Dyersville by myself, and thus wouldn't have been able to play catch with anyone. That may have led to some awkward situations.

"Excuse me, kid - can I borrow your dad for a bit? We'll be back in a half hour. Go play in the corn. I think I saw Lou Gehrig's ghost over there. Or maybe it's the dude who played Costner's dad, signing autographs. Oh, and I'm gonna need your mitt, too.

Okay, 'Dad,' I think we're about the same age, but let's have a catch."

If I had to name two things in this life that I truly love, baseball and movies would both be on the list. Yet I have to look at myself in the mirror each summer and try to deny the truth. When I watch Field of Dreams now, maybe those tears signify something else entirely.



"If you build it, he will come"? Apparently, the concept was lost on me.

These Fingers Were Made For Typin'

It wasn't exactly a resolution of mine to blog more here in 2009, but I did want to post more this year than I did last year.

The 34 posts I put up in January - and I intended to write more - were the most I've done in a month on this blog since July of 2005. (I wrote 19 posts last January.) But that's when there was no Bless You Boys or Sweaty Men Endeavors, and I spent all day on campus, with plenty of time to kill between classes and waiting for buses at Iowa. (And later on, I blogged to keep my head from exploding after my father died.)

In January of '05, I wrote 63 posts! And that was with no video clips available and few photos. What the hell was I writing about? Although I think I "got" writing in short bursts much better back then. (And I didn't gratuitously split up "random thoughts" types of posts, like I may have today. Ahem.)

I bet FRT had more readers back then, too. Ah, well.

Today's Photo - 01/11/09

It's always kind of a tough day for me when Michigan and Iowa play each other in football or basketball.


(I know - not my best photo. I'll try to do better the next time.)

But with 30-plus years in Ann Arbor, versus the two I spent in Iowa City, you can probably guess where my loyalties ultimately lie. I'm mostly just rooting for a good game at Crisler Arena today, with both teams playing hard.

UPDATE: I don't know if you can say both teams played hard, with Iowa looking awful and Michigan looking smooth. The Hawkeyes were short-handed, but I'm not sure it would've mattered.

Stay Strong, Iowa

I haven't been back to Iowa City since leaving three years ago, and if anyone I knew is still living there, we haven't kept in touch, other than adding each other on Facebook. My time in Iowa gets smaller in my rear-view mirror each day, but whether I ever visit again or not, that town and the University of Iowa will always be important to me. I realize this sounds entirely melodramatic, but I feel like that place and the people I met saved my life.

So when I see what Iowa City (and the greater Eastern Iowa region) are going through right now, my heart breaks. I can't even imagine that most of the roads and sidewalks I navigated are under water right now. The photos from the Iowa City Press-Citizen and The Daily Iowan are jolting.


This photo was taken just a couple of blocks from my old apartment (which was evacuated at the end of last week), and I believe the flood waters got even higher over the past couple of days. Fortunately, the Coralville Reservoir finally crested over the weekend, water levels are (slowly) receding, and water can start getting pumped out of campus buildings and residences. Though it could be a while before any of those places are deemed safe.


Somehow, I managed to avoid severe weather emergencies, such as these floods and tornadoes during my two years in Iowa. I remember my father telling me I needed to become familiar with shelter or evacuation proceedings during tornado season whenever he heard about things getting nasty in that part of the country. I shrugged it off back then, thinking nothing was going to happen. I had no idea how lucky I really was.


One thing I do know is that Iowans will do everything to help each other get through this. Those are some of the friendliest people I've ever met in my life, and they care deeply about their neighbors and their community. No one will have to suffer through this alone. It's just not how they do things in Hawkeye Country.

If you'd like to help, you can make a contribution to the UI Flood Relief Fund.

Today's Reading - 09/13/07

● Bloggin' Tigers baseball

Okay, this is totally gratuitious (and probably an abuse of the "Today's Reading" institution, which has been established for... one whole week), but I was fortunate enough to have my Detroit Tigers blogging noticed by the people at USA Today Sports Weekly for their regular "Bloggin' Baseball" series. If you swing by a newsstand, the interview is in this week's issue (Sept. 12-18) with Armageddon Appalachian State's Corey Lynch on the cover. I'm on page 43.

● UI's hot tickets

According to this article, the University of Iowa collected $850,000 in parking fines last year. That's approximately the amount the Parking and Transportation department sucked out of me during my two years at Iowa, so they've clearly found other violaters to punish (frequently). No sympathy for the grad student complaining about having to take a bus from Hawkeye Court, though. That's where I lived, and there's really no reason not to use the campus bus service from there.

● Pamela Anderson: "I Paid a Poker Debt with Sexual Favors and Fell in Love"

You know, I always thought I might be missing out on something by not playing poker. I'm not sure it's an indication of one's card-playing skills, however, by putting Ms. Anderson so far in debt that she slept her way out of it. (I'm sure plenty of waiters don't mind if her credit card is ever declined at dinner.) That dude better watch out for Kid Rock or Tommy Lee, though. (Speaking of gratuitous, using "Pamela Anderson" and "sexual favors" should give the site traffic a boost today.)

● A No-Paper Newspaper

We've kind of covered this sort of thing before at FRT (also in response to a Washington Post article), but each day seems to bring us closer to a reality of "paper-less" newspapers. To me, this is one of the top reasons to consider buying an iPhone or iPod Touch. It's one of the first things on my mind when I think about how I'd use it in my daily life.

Thinking of Iowa City

(Note: I intended to post this much earlier, as I'd been following the news all day, but didn't quite finish it before heading out for the evening.)

I was woken this morning by my sister, who had just watched the Today Show and asked if I'd seen the news of a tornado smashing through Iowa City last night. It was too late to catch anything on TV, but almost immediately, I went to the Daily Iowan and Iowa City Press-Citizen web pages to get the news, look at photos of the damage, and map out the path of the storm.

I've been staring at these pictures for most of the afternoon. It looks like a disaster area out there. Buildings with roofs completely torn off, like St. Patrick's Catholic Church. Walls caved in and toppled over. Trees uprooted. Traffic lights knocked down, signs blown out and cars overturned. Homes that have been gutted out, scattered, and torn apart. It just seems unbelievable.

(Photo by Matthew Holst/ Iowa City Press-Citizen)

A Dairy Queen near the Iowa River, where I admittedly spent way too much money during the hot summers I spent in Iowa, is gone. Only a wall is left standing. Amazingly, none of the people on the scene were killed.

Tornadoes are always a hazard this time of year in the outer Midwest as temperatures change and warm and cold fronts collide. I never dealt with any big scares during my time in Iowa City, but whenever I'd hear about storms in other parts of the state, I'd wonder 1) if my boxey cinder-block apartment could stand up to any serious weather, and 2) where the hell I would go for shelter. I don't know if that part of the city was hit as hard as the downtown area, but some of the damaged areas (such as this Honda dealership) are pretty close to my apartment complex. I'm wondering if my old place is still intact.

(Photo by Hannah van Zutphen-Khan/ Iowa City Press-Citizen)

To me, one of the things that makes these images so jolting is that the tornado caused most of its damage in downtown Iowa City, densely populated with people, residences, and businesses.
I realize other urban areas have been hit before, but it seems like most tornado destruction occurs in flat rural landscapes. That's probably an incredibly naive observation. I guess I'm just having trouble believing that buildings I used to walk and drive by every day aren't standing anymore and that people had to sleep in the student union because their homes were destroyed.

My heart definitely goes out to Iowa City and its people right now. That place will always mean something to me, and I hope everyone there is okay.

▪▪ According to The Daily Iowan, the storm was a F2 tornado, with winds reaching up to 150 mph.

▪▪ Here are three photo galleries from the Iowa City Press-Citizen.

Monday mess-around

Anyone remember Larry King's old "News & Views" column that ran in USA Today on Mondays? The one where he'd just throw a bunch of random non-sequiturs together and call it a column? Oh, just asking...

▪ It snowed yesterday in Michigan. Some areas received up to 14 inches of the white stuff! The Detroit Tigers game was postponed because of snow on April 24. That $#!+ is crazy. My Michigan peeps don't need me to tell them that, of course. But I thought it was worth noting.

▪ I watched Closer last night, and wished I'd written every single line that came out of Clive Owen's mouth. I'm still not sure whether or not it was a good movie; the ending was kind of a head-scratcher. But I bet Owen had fun playing his character.

▪ I usually hate reruns, but I'd love a spring-summer repeat of the Detroit Pistons winning the NBA championship. The Pistons looked awesome on Saturday, smacking down the Philadelphia 76ers, 106-85, in game 1 of their playoff series. Could Detroit have an even better team than they did last year? Hmm... could be.

▪ Last night's episode of Deadwood was disappointing for only one reason. Last week, Mis Hooz and I did shots of whiskey every time someone said "cocksucker." (And if you've ever watched the show, you know that could get a person stinkin' drunk by the end of an episode.) Unfortunately, I only counted one "cocksucker" last night. (Did I miss any?) Oh well. I did have to get up early today.

▪ Am I starting to get attached to Iowa City before I leave? I thought this town was full of $5.00 pitcher/$1.00 shot frat bars. But I went to a couple of cool places over the weekend, both of which had some good live jazz and a nice beer selection. I wish I'd have found those joints earlier in my Iowa tenure.

▪ Another movie I watched this weekend: P.S., starring Laura Linney and Topher Grace. This didn't get nearly the amount of attention it should have; I don't know how many cities it even played in. It's about a woman in her late-30s who meets a younger man, and becomes convinced he could be the reincarnation of a boyfriend who died in an auto accident 20 years ago. Linney is great in everything she does, but I might be biased since I'm totally in love with her. (A couple of my friends just nodded their heads and rolled their eyes.)

▪ I noticed the Los Angeles Dodgers and Chicago Cubs went back to "classic" uniforms, with no player names on the backs of the jerseys. They only have numbers on their backs, like the New York Yankees, Boston Red Sox, and San Francisco Giants. (However, the Red Sox and Giants have player names on their road uniforms.) It's a little thing, but I think it looks great. The less stuff on the jersey, the better. A clean, simple look. I wish the Tigers would do the same thing, at least with their home uniforms.

Wired for writing

As I've written before, author readings are one of the best things about Iowa City. Last night, George Pelecanos appeared at Prairie Lights Bookstore to promote his latest novel, Drama City. Pelecanos might be the best crime writer going right now. My frame of reference is smaller than it should be (I've only read two of his novels), but what I admire most about Pelecanos's work is its seeming authenticity. His dialogue, characters, settings all feel real on the page; nothing seems contrived or created. And judging from what Pelecanos said last night during his question-and-answer session, that is no accident.

I only caught the last half of the reading because of a night class, but it was worth the sprint across campus (okay, I don't sprint - but I was walking very fast). Not only do I enjoy Pelecanos as a novelist, but he also writes for one of my favorite TV shows, HBO's The Wire. And much to my surprise, many people in the audience admired Pelecanos for the same reason. I couldn't believe how many questions he was asked about his TV work. Whenever an author appears at a bookstore or on campus, there seems to be an unwritten rule that the discussion shouldn't touch on TV or film work. Maybe that's the influence of the Writers Workshop; we're here to write and talk about literature. Talking about scripts and adaptations - not to mention using cinematic techniques in our prose - is virtually frowned upon.

But Pelecanos was more than willing to talk about writing for The Wire, saying he probably wouldn't have written Drama City without the experience. His TV work has also allowed him access - such as riding with the Washington D.C. police - that he never would've received before. And he apparently isn't beholden to writing programs such as the Writers Workshop. One of the funnier moments of the evening was his sheepish admission that he'd never taken a writing class. "This is probably the one city in the country where I shouldn't say that," he chuckled. When asked what he thought of writing programs, Pelecanos artfully dodged the question and said he liked WordPerfect and Microsoft Word.

And I think that's consistent with Pelecanos's work - just create the characters, tell the story, delve into what's really going on, and above all, make it as real as possible. The process of writing and learning how to tell a story is important, of course, but eventually it comes down to sitting your ass down in front of that computer or notepad and pounding out what you want to say. I think that's something most aspiring writers need to hear regularly.

March madness that matters (to me)

Congratulations to the University of Iowa men's basketball team (occasionally known as "My Hawkeyes), who received one of the 64 bids to the NCAA Tournament yesterday. I and my fellow Hawkeye fans had wore our fingernails down to the nub (Okay, full disclosure: I've been worrying about a lot of other $#!t), wondering whether or not their 21-11 season record would look attractive enough to the tournament selection committee, but two wins in the Big Ten tournament against Purdue and Michigan State over the weekend apparently did the trick. (I wish I could play you the "Goddammit, Iowa beat MSU!" voice-mail message my pal Eric left for me while I was en route to Charleston - hilarious!)

So part of my St. Patrick's Day will now be spent in front of TV, watching Iowa play the University of Cincinnati in Indianapolis, IN. As I type this, I don't know what time the game will be played. (Again, full disclosure: I might've been going to a bar to watch college basketball under a St. Patty's Day buzz - I'm getting too old for drunken stupors - anyway. I just wouldn't have cared as much about what was going on.)

The most relieved guy in the room? Probably Iowa's head basketball coach Steve Alford, who surely saved his job by getting his team into the tournament.

Also, two other Iowa universities - Iowa State University and the University of Northern Iowa - were also invited to the NCAA tournament. Hey, they play good hoops in cornfield country.

Finally, it would be a horrible snub if I neglected to mention two other blogs where you can get a lot more information about college basketball than I can give. First, there's Yoni Cohen's site, which is amazingly comprehensive. I don't know how he has time to cover everything he does. (Yoni was also the first guy to put me on his blogroll - hell, he was the dude who told me what a blogroll was - which is something I'll always be grateful for.) Also, for a more Iowa-centric view, check out Hawkeye Hoops.

Paradise for writing nerds

One of my favorite things about living in Iowa City is the number of authors who visit to promote their books and read their work. In my two years here, I've been able to meet some of my favorite writers, including Jonathan Lethem, Dave Eggers, Jeffrey Eugenides, James Ellroy, and Denis Johnson. I know if I lived in a big city, I could probably see all of these writers, and probably many more. But in a rather small, midwestern college town, this seems particularly special.

The Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa brings in a lot of writers, many of whom studied in the program. (It's the reason I moved here too. I'd love to come back someday and revel in my glory.) Whenever a graduate comes back to read from a novel he or she was very likely working on while studying here, it's an exciting moment. Well, at least for us writers.

Last night at Prairie Lights bookstore, Curtis Sittenfeld read from her debut novel, Prep. (Rather than try to describe the novel - of which I've only read 10 pages - here's a description from her website. Okay, it's about a girl who leaves Indiana to attend prep school in Massachusetts.) Sittenfeld's a writer I've admired for some time, due to her essays in Salon, the Washington Post, and the New York Times. (I wrote an entry about a hilarious essay she wrote for the Times Book Review almost two months ago. Go on, search those archives; I won't mind.) Prep is currently #11 on the Times Best-Seller List, and it's been in stores for just over a month. Not bad.

The reading was also part of the "Live from Prairie Lights" series on radio station WSUI, which means Sittenfeld had the pleasure of being interviewed by the bizarre Julie Englander, who asked insightful questions such as what was it like having a name that many perceive as a man's name. Englander also asked Sittenfeld to compare the prep school experience to public school. But since Sittenfeld attended prep school, not public school, she really couldn't answer the question. One would think Englander might've realized that before asking. But I digress...

Sittenfeld apparently made a lot of friends during her time in Iowa City because I was standing in line behind every single one of them while waiting to get my book signed. Considering everyone else was getting a hug and a 5-10 minute reunion, I was a little disappointed when I only received an autograph. But I got to tell her that she should make her agent shop around a collection of her nonfiction work. She seemed to think I'd be the only one who'd read it, but I doubt it. (Sittenfeld was either too modest to tell me that most of those articles and essays are on her website or she'd forgotten about it.)

How often do you get to chat with someone whose work you really admire? On nights like this, I don't regret moving to Iowa City at all.

Well, it is almost December...

Got some light snowfall here in Iowa overnight. According to the local weather dudes, we could get as much as an inch if the temperatures stay cold enough. But it will probably turn to rain later this after noon.

Pardon the blurry photo. I'm not very good with my digital spy camera. Plus the photo was taken from behind a window screen, so that might've messed with the image a bit. But I think all the white in the picture might give you an idea of the snowfall.

Bah, humbug!
On a perhaps somewhat related note, one of the few local radio stations I can tolerate has switched to all-Christmas music, all the time. This temporary format change probably took place after Thanksgiving. I forgot the same thing happened last year. I tried to erase it from my memory.

This stinks. For the next month, the only radio I'll be listening to is NPR and sports talk. But it could be worse. My sister told me radio stations in Charleston, SC started playing 24-hour Christmas music right after Halloween. And they don't even get snow down there. I'd jump into the Ashley River off a tall bridge, man.

Years of working retail probably destroyed my tolerance for Christmas music. I can take it for one week, leading up to Christmas. And even then, there are only a handful of songs I want to hear. 'Jingle Bell Rock,' 'Do They Know It's Christmas,' and Bruce Springsteen's live version of 'Santa Claus is Coming to Town.'

Nearing the end

© 2004 by NEA, Inc.

This is how I've felt through most of the Fall term. Now that it's nearing the close (and I'm on the verge of my final semester at Iowa), I wonder if I've been doing enough. But good chats with advisors and instructors over the past week have lessened my angst. That light at the end of the tunnel might not be an oncoming train.

That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.

Some schools play football games for trophies like Paul Bunyan’s axe, little brown jugs, spittoons, or buckets. Iowa and Minnesota play for a pig.


That is “Floyd of Rosedale.” It represents a bet made back in 1935 between the governors of Iowa and Minnesota. (See what you have time to do when you don’t have to worry about issues like gay marriage?) That is a trophy, my friends. And grown men are happy to win it.

Iowa held onto Floyd yesterday, by the way, beating Minnesota, 29-27.
College football – ain’t nothin’ like it. Here’s a ridiculously comprehensive site that lists the many rivalries in the sport and the trophies that are at stake.

Football - Sorrow & Joy

From a Roar To a Whimper

Last Sunday, my beloved Detroit Lions lost to the Washington Redskins, 17-10, and I failed to be a man and answer for that to my friend in Maryland, who's a big 'Skins fan. All season long, I'd been talking trash, taking joy in the fact that my Lions were playing well while her Redskins were struggling. A win for Detroit seemed assured, which I made clear. Unfortunately, the Lions played one of their worst games of this season, and after a surprising start have now fallen back to their typical inept play. One would think I'd learn after all these years.


So since I didn't send an e-mail to take my medicine, Stephanie, I'll do it here on my blog. My Lions stink. The Redskins are their daddy. I will now go back under my rock and sulk.

Nothing Like the First Time

And I haven't written about my first University of Iowa football game last week vs. Purdue. The weather was great: sunny and 70 degrees. Mother Nature wanted me to have a good time. The game didn't disappoint either. Purdue made it close at the end, but Iowa generally dominated the game and won 23-21. The only thing I missed out on was eating one of the famous "Big Ass Turkey Legs." (The sign on the food stand actually says that.) They looked good, but I didn't want to carry around a giant drumstick of meat. Maybe some other time, when I can share one...


Did I take this photo? Yes, I ran onto the field, snapped this and ran off, quick as a flash. Coach Kirk Ferentz wants to sign me up as a running back for next season. No, all the photos I took with my spy-sized digital camera didn't turn out very well. I'm a terrible photographer, especially with a camera so small that it's affected by my slightest movement. All you could tell from my photos was that I was outside and that someone with a giant head was sitting in front of me. Too bad, because I would've loved a record of the experience. (I really wanted a picture of "Big Ass Turkey Legs," too.)

My sister will hate hearing this, but the Iowa fans are a lot louder and much more enthusiastic than the Michigan fans. Some say the design of Michigan stadium, with a bowl that stretches back farther, lets more noise escape. Maybe that's true, but I do think Michigan fans are quieter. They sit back and expect their team to win. Iowa fans feel like they can influence the game with their cheering. It makes a big difference.

I've become an old man when it comes to attending football games. (Baseball games are different to me. Someday I'll write about why that is.) "Oy, it's too crowded and uncomfortable. I hate being wedged in between people - what if I have to go to the bathroom? And I can see the game much better at home on TV." But a college football game has a lot of atmosphere that can only be appreciated in person. The variety of fans (the old-timers, the students, the townies), the marching band playing fight songs (I still have to work on learning Iowa's) and rallies, school colors, and raucous enthusiasm - ain't nothin' like it.

One more thing about Iowa football: I know this will sound goofy, but two years ago, I visited Minneapolis, thinking I'd move there. It was difficult to find a place to stay because the hotel rooms were all taken by Iowa fans, in town to see the Hawkeyes play Minnesota. But once I did find a room (and desperately paid a ridiculous amount for a room bigger than my current apartment), I met some Iowa fans in the lobby and was impressed by how nice they were. And I was impressed that so many of these people had made the five-hour trip to cheer on their school. I missed being in an environment like that.


(After Iowa won the game, by the way, those fans ran onto the field - at the other team's stadium - to celebrate winning a share of the Big Ten conference title. Those crazy kids tore down one of the goalposts! I would imagine Minnesota is still sore about that.)

I'm not going to say that I decided to go to Iowa that day, because that's just not true. But for a guy that was looking for a sign to tell him which direction to go, I sometimes wonder if the seed was planted that day. On the drive back to Michigan, I'd decided that I wasn't going to move to Minneapolis. Shortly after that, I remembered that Iowa had a great writing program. The rest could be history...

What's the hold-up?

Not that it matters, since I'm watching George W. Bush on TV right now talk about his next four years in office. (And he's being so funny about the fact that he's 'reaching out' to the White House press corps. How about some more press conferences in the next four years, Mr. President? 'I'm going to start enforcing the one-question rule.' Ha ha ha. You know, I think I could have a beer with this guy.)

But isn't it embarrassing that Iowa still hasn't made its vote totals official? The place that got the 2004 election ball rolling now won't let it go. It's the only state that's still gray on the electoral map. What's the hold-up? According to the Des Moines Register, the totals probably won't be available until Monday, after some 15,000 provisional ballots and as many as 50,000 absentee ballots are added to the final tally. Bush's victory in Iowa, however (the first for a Republican in 20 years), seems assured.

Iowa's interesting in that you could probably draw a line right down the middle of the state, through Des Moines, and put Republicans on the west side and Democrats on the east. I'm not sure another state has such an obvious schism in its political sensibilities.

The 2008 Iowa caucuses (if they remain first in the nation) should be damn interesting...

Spending the night with Chris Matthews...

I'm wondering if I made the right decision to sit in front of the TV tonight and watch election coverage. Even with the very early results from four states, I can feel my stomach swirling and dipping from the news. Maybe this is a good night to catch a movie, ignore the TV, and find out what happens in the morning. But I know I won't be able to resist.

No matter what happens, there is one thing I would like to see change. Today on campus, I saw a girl wearing an "I ♥ Bush" t-shirt and the blood just boiled to my head. In the past, I probably would've felt at least an ounce of admiration toward this person for believing in her opinion strongly enough to wear it on her chest. On a college campus, she probably knew she was going to have some verbal tomatoes thrown her way. But today, I instantly judged her and wanted to scream at her. And I hate that I feel that way.

Even if Bush wins this thing, I hope I'm mature enough to move past it (eventually - give me a week, okay?) and let go of the negative feelings I hold right now toward anyone who believes in a candidate different from the one I support. I'm tired of feeling the way I felt today, as I've felt for much of the past four years.

As a comic strip by James Kochalka said today, "I guess we can relax. Bush won't be president much longer now. Four more years, TOPS."

Having said all that, I'll miss all the political action here in Iowa. It's been so fun to experience the caucuses and national election here, with all of the candidates breezing through, holding rallies, and meeting people. Presidential politics has never seemed more personal and more vital to me than it has over the past year-and-a-half.

You have to wear a costume!

Can you complain about what you get in your trick-or-treat bag if you DON'T EVEN WEAR A COSTUME??

This is the punk-ass brat I was faced with last night, trying to be a nice guy because I felt bad about kids going door-to-door and no one giving 'em candy. I initially tried to avoid the trick-or-treaters by hiding in the bathroom whenever I heard knocking. But I had a paper to work on, so I wasn't going to stay in there for two hours. (If only I had mexican for lunch - HA!) So back to the computer I went. Never mind that I had the lights dimmed and stayed away from the windows. Apparently, I needed a "I have no candy, please stop knocking and go away" sign on my door.

Of course, I would've knocked on such a door when I was a kid too. And it was remembering lil' Ian that made me open the door and greet the kids. Unfortunately, I didn't have much. Here's a pack of gum, little ballerina. How about a handful of Jolly Ranchers for you, Mr. Samurai? And for you, Officer Riot Cop (did a parent think of that one?), here's some toffee candy a friend gave me as a gift. Happy Halloween! They were happy, I felt good - and I was done for the night.

Except another batch of kids followed before I could close the door, go back to working on my paper, and yell "NO CANDY" whenever someone knocked. And these were the kids that had no costumes. They were just running around in plainclothes, with plastic Walmart bags open, looking for free candy. Is that the kind of effort that should be rewarded?

But after emptying my bags of Jolly Ranchers and toffee candies, all I'm left with is... granola bars. Hey, excuse me for wanting to up the health content for our children! I'd take a Nature Valley Oats & Honey bar most days over a Snickers! (Of course, I'm old and eat Grape Nuts for breakfast...) Hey, I know it's lame! So I toss granola bars in the last two kids' bags, which elicits an "Aw, man!" from one. The other one began to walk away, then stepped back and asked if he could get trade his granola bar for Jolly Ranchers instead.

How did I handle this?

"Kid, you don't even have a costume on. You don't get to trade. Happy Halloween!" And I shut the door. Hours later, I even finished that paper.

No eggs splattered against my window this morning...

Breaking the Seal

I've been thinking about doing one of these blog things for a while, and this seemed to be as good a time as any. If the Boston Red Sox can win the World Series, then we may be at the end of the world as we know it. So before things change irrevocably - the sun rising in the west and setting in the east, toilet water swirling counterclockwise, buttered toast landing dry side up, etc. - then I'm going to post my inane thoughts for all (some, few) to see. Maybe I'll be writing into the vacuum of cyberspace. But at least I'll have tried.

And don't think I'm joking about this end of the world stuff. It's October 29 and it was 80 degrees today in Iowa. As I write this, there's a tornado warning for the eastern part of the state.

I'm sure there will be plenty to say until Election Day on Tuesday. The voting process looks like a potential disaster, but hopefully, it all goes smoothly. Otherwise, more end-of-the-world jokes from me. My fingers are tightly crossed for the Massachusetts guy. They're on a roll.

Trek Jest

As I sat at the bar of Murphy’s Pub & Grill in Riverside, IA, and stared at the drops on condensation sliding down the exterior of my glass of beer, I felt strangely empty and unfulfilled. I couldn’t help but wonder why. What were my expectations for this town’s annual Trek Fest? What had I hoped to see, to experience?

In a word: geeks. I wanted Star Trek geeks, ravenously over-enthusiastic fanatics for this show, its characters, and the universe they combined to create. I expected to be surrounded by people in ill-fitting or perfectly tailored replica Starfleet uniforms. I wanted pointy, rubber Mr. Spock ears, worn by others and for sale at a souvenir stand. I yearned to be greeted with the v-shaped Vulcan gesture, the same gesture that took me weeks to perfect as a child. I hoped for someone to talk to me in the Klingon language, while I marveled at how this person would take the time to form seemingly full, coherent sentences out of an entirely fictional dialect.

The premise behind Trek Fest’s existence certainly held promise. According to the creators of this festival, Riverside, IA was apparently the future birthplace of James T. Kirk, probably the most popular character on the show. “299 years and counting,” read a commemorative t-shirt. Even Star Trek novices know him as the Captain of the Starship Enterprise. I never recalled Riverside being mentioned as the place where Kirk was born, but I am hardly a Star Trek aficionado. I was more than willing to accept the word of those much more versed in such matters.

But would I find such people here? Trek Fest seemed to be more of a county fair than a gathering of overzealous science fiction fanatics. Riverside was a town of small houses, big yards, roadside lawn chairs, and tractors. Rather than host an intrusion of geeks, these people seemed to make the occasion their own. They had a reason for a festival, and that’s all they needed to set up food tents, hold dances, and run tractor pulls. The smell of grilled food was in the air (thankfully masking the odor of manure and animal feed). Nature smiled on the event, giving Riverside a near-cloudless sky and 70 degree temperatures. This day didn’t belong to the geeks; it belonged to the friendly people of this quiet Iowa town who were happy to get a barbecue beef dinner with macaroni-and-cheese, baked beans, chips, and strawberry shortcake with whipped cream for only $6.50.

Yet I still held out hope as I watched the adult participants in the festival’s costume contest. Standing at the end of a barn, each of the contestants was asked to explain their costume and why they liked the character they chose to emulate. One man, dressed as a hooded villain I was unfamiliar with, captured the crowd’s enthusiasm with his threats of world domination. He was eventually named the winner. But it was another contender, dressed as the fictional inspiration for the festival, who most intrigued me. When asked why he chose to dress as Captain Kirk, this man expressed great admiration for the leadership qualities of his fictional role model. Faced with difficult life decisions, this man asked himself what his beloved Captain would do in a similar situation. Were it not for this man’s seeming earnestness, I would’ve dismissed his answers as sarcastic, and possibly smug. Instead, I jotted down a note for possible souvenir items at next year’s Trek Fest: t-shirts and wristbands emblazoned with the acronym “W.W.C.K.D?” What would Captain Kirk do? Perhaps we would all benefit by asking ourselves such a question.

This was the man I was looking for. I hoped to ask the Kirk doppelganger about his beliefs, but after the contest, he became lost in the crowd, surely swallowed up by admirers, beamed up to the Starship Adulation. Or maybe he was pushed into a car and dashed off to the next Star Trek-oriented gathering. Most likely, he changed clothes quickly once he looked out into the crowd and realized how few kindred spirits were watching him. I felt sad for the man, yet wondered if he took solace in his uncompromising (though based in fiction) principles. If he wasn’t sad, how could I be?

I sat under a tent at a wooden picnic table, munching on a pork burger, while watching young children play with balloon animals (that often pierced the serenity of the day by popping loudly) and teenagers duel with phallic-looking balloon swords. I looked again to the barnyard stage; where young girls in brightly colored leotards did backflips set to pop music, in hopes of winning the festival’s talent contest. People were enjoying a nice day in the sun while mingling with their neighbors. I felt petty for wanting more out of this occasion. I didn’t belong here, so I went to the bar instead.

At Murphy's Pub & Grill, I sipped my beer and looked at my watch, keeping track of how much time I had before meeting my classmates. Did I have the right to be so disappointed? I turned from the bar and noticed a man sitting in a booth alone, wearing a Star Trek uniform. He was the runner-up in the costume contest, now enjoying the spoils of his labor. We made eye contact and I raised my beer to him in salute. He lifted his mug of ale back at me and smiled. It was a good day for him.


© 2004 Ian Casselberry