Change, the one constant.

Relatively early this morning, I was trudging up the incline of the high bridge over the Severn River contemplating change.  It's not too very hard to contemplate since the very bridge I was on was entirely built between the first time I arrived in Annapolis and how things are today.  Before the high bridge that spans the Severn on Baltimore Boulevard, there was a low draw bridge that had a sinister habit of being raised on Sunday afternoons as legions of midshipmen were frantically racing back to the warm (very warm) or cool (very cool) embrace of Mother B.  The temperature of the embrace tracked very closely with the weather, but that's a story for another day.

At any rate, you'd be racing the clock, for time tide and formation wait for no man, and you'd crest what was affectionately known as, "Oh Shit" Hill.  If you were lucky there'd be some minor back up in traffic as the four lane road necked down to a two lane bridge. More often than not, someone's 45 foot bay cruising sailboat would be making it's way through a great big gap in the bridge, and the line of waiting cars carrying similarly anxious midshipmen would be too awful to contemplate.  Then, you'd be late for formation.

The high bridge over the Severn River removed that uncertainty, and it created an excellent location to snap a few pictures of what was once known as Strawberry Hill before it was purchased by the federal government in 1868 as part of an expansion plan associated with expanding Uncle Sam's School For Wayward Boys (and now Girls...another change that only took place in 1976).  I took a few snaps, and this is what Google Photo turned them into.

Forrest Sherman Field on Hospital Point (previously Strawberry Hill) from the Severn River Bridge

It's worth noting that when Strawberry Hill was purchased in 1868 all of the land to the left of the satellite antenna up to the river edge was all river.  This land was "made" by depositing fill inside the concrete seawall, so this is an example of even more change.  I'm happy to report that this was done well in advance of my arrival in Annapolis.

Hospital Point and the Severn River High Bridge as seen while walking.

One constant in all of our lives is that the environment we live in is always changing.  Each moment, both from our perspective and the perspective of every other living (and probably non-living thing...if such a thing is possible) are unique circumstances.  I'd argue that we are witness to creation itself, and it's a powerful and wonderful thing.

Keeping it Brief on a Friday Night

I managed to sleep in again today.  Not intentionally, but if I can sleep through an alarm and a phone call, I probably needed the rest.  As a result, my walking was curtailed to a just a little over six miles, and I had to park on what I like to call the penthouse suite of the parking garage.

Washington, DC skyline from the top of the parking garage

As you can see from the photo, the day was spectacular.  I've seen a handful of really unique events from the top of this parking garage.  The final flyover of Space Shuttle Discovery on the back of the specially modified Boeing 747 Shuttle Carrier on its way to the Smithsonian Air and Space museum was particularly memorable.

Appreciating Things Sometimes Taken for Granted...Postal Service Edition

Today as I was walking past the Thomas Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress, I noticed something that I had not seen before in spite of passing this iconic structure hundreds of times in the past.  Ornamenting the keystones above the arched windows on the ground floor there are a number of ethological heads (33 in all) .  These busts are modelled on a collection related to different races, from Arab to Zulu, at the Smithsonian Institution.  I know this thanks to the handy online tour of the oldest building on the Library of Congress campus.

Three of the Thirty Three Ethological Heads on the Thomas Jefferson Building

I did not frame up that photograph very well, but I was in a hurry.  Sorry.

Another three heads around the corner from the previous picture

I definitely did a better job framing up that second photo.  I was going to write about these additions to my growing pile of Washington, DC trivia, but thankfully you were all saved from enduring that little epistle by the delivery of the post today.

To really tell this story correctly, I've got to go back in time about three weeks ago.  I was sitting at the computer, minding my own business, when my lovely bride said that the crop of brassieres she'd been utilizing for the last several years were nearing the end of their useful service lives. I apparently did not show the proper level of concern, and very soon she began to ask me how I was going to help her solve this problem.  

Not being one to volunteer to go combing through the lingerie section of every department store within 100 miles helping in the search for just the right set of over the shoulder boulder holders, I suggested that if she told me exactly what she wanted, I would try to find them online.  She told me that she wanted the Jockey seamless, wireless cotton no-frills variety of titslings, and I set of on my search.  Now usually, I'm pretty good at using search engines, but this request began to give me some trouble almost immediately.  I was able to locate what I thought were the right chest support devices on Amazon, but they listed them as out of stock.

Not wanting to order the wrong thing, I made my way to the Jockey website where I made an ominous discovery.  The same model brassieres listed on Amazon (Model #1672) were listed at a deeply discounted price, but the links to order them were not active.  I called the 800 number, and after about a 20 minute conversation surrounding the ins and outs of feminine upper body undergarments, I was able to ascertain thqt this particular bra was no longer part of the fine family of mammary support aids carried by Jockey.

I say this was ominous news because my wife hates shopping from bras just slightly more than I do (except special occasion varieties which can be quite entertaining).  She suggested to me that it would be in my best interest to find some and get them to the house as quickly as possible.

As luck would have it, I was able to locate an eBay site that advertised having fifteen of these little fillies (in the correct size) in stock and on sale at a 20% discount from listed retail.  I, knowing what's good for me, placed an order for all fifteen (what I hope to be a lifetime supply) because these were apparently the only source for this discontinued line.

Now I know what you're thinking.  Yes, I bought bras on eBay, and yes, I was pretty nervous about how that would work out.  They were advertised as new, but, well, I don't quite know how to explain the trepidation I had for laying out $242 for fifteen bras sight unseen.  That was three weeks ago.

I had all but given up on ever getting my purchase, when they finally arrived today.  The packaging did not make me feel a great deal better about my purchase.  The box had a return address in India, and on the back there was, I kid you not, an Indian customs form.  I opened the box, and this is what I saw.

Home Made Box containing fifteen new Jockey Bras

I am happy to report that the bras were inside this lovely home made box (Indian newspapers I presume), and they were new, the right size, and exactly what my bride had wanted.

This brings me to the real topic of this post...no pun intended.  I am truly grateful for the postal service. Seriously.  Who would have imagined 100 or 50 or even 20 years ago that I would be able to engage in an economic transaction for bras from literally the other side of the planet and have just what I ordered delivered to my doorstep three weeks later.  It was even sent registered mail.  This is the manifestation of an incredibly robust system that was put in place hundreds of years ago and has evolved to the point that the reliability of the delivery system can mostly be taken as a given.  It's a truly stunning accomplishment that has saved me a great deal of pain and time associated with what would have proved to be a fruitless search for just the right discontinued type of underwear.

While I strongly suspect that how these bras came to be for sale on eBay very likely has something to do with them "falling off a truck" very near their point of manufacture (yep, the were made in India) that is probably a story for another day.  For now, I'm incredibly lucky for the global postal system that pulled this all together for me.   

Throttling Back a Little

I am quite tired today.  Just about every five days or so, I push just a little too hard, and I end up with a day that is just a bit more challenging than the others to power through.  That's when I know it's about time to ease my foot off the throttle and give myself a bit of a breather.  That is what happened today.

After getting off work, I did a short jaunt around Nationals Park here in DC to round out my daily practice.

Nationals Park

This stadium and the surrounding area is a living testimony for the progress that a well financed vision can achieve.  Both the vision and the financial backing are critical to this sort of success.  This park was really one of the final capstones on the multi-year, multi-industry effort to recapitalize the Southeast Washington, DC area.

A vision without funding is a hallucination, of course, but this area is a long way from that sad state of affairs.  With the right vision and financing, Washington, DC has taken an area of the city that gave every impression of being comprised of strip clubs, liquor stores, pawn shops, and gas stations back in the early 1990's and turned that same neighborhood into one of the more desirable up and coming areas for young professionals.

The folks at the game looked pretty relaxed and that they were having a good time.  Since today is a day of rest for me, I'll wrap this up for now.

Being Prepared to be Amazed

Today, I was certain that I would not have anything interesting to write about, so I took what I thought at the time were some relatively mundane photos of some buildings and the sail of a submarine in a field that I thought I might squeeze into a few column inches or so.  Yes, you read that right, a submarine (or at least the conning tower) of a submarine in a field.  Here's the panorama that Google Auto Awesome stitched together for me out of that series of photographs.

Sail from SS 285, USS Balao

It strikes me that earlier this morning, I had been prepared to call this type of experience mundane.  I did get to see, and could have touched it if I wanted, the conning tower of the USS Balao, the lead ship in the Balao class diesel electric submarines that conducted 10 war patrols in the Pacific and sank a number of Japanese ships.  The ship was recommissioned in the early 1950's and saw further service until she was decommissioned and sunk as a target in 1963.  She even played a prominent role as the "pink submarine" in the 1959 movie "Operation Petticoat" starring Cary Grant and Tony Curtis.  She also deployed to the western Atlantic during the Cuban Missile crisis.

As if coming across this visible and very storied bit of naval lore was not enough for today, I was able to see Nancy Pelosi, Minority leader of the United States Senate give a speech on the steps of the Senate side of the Capitol Building this afternoon with a number of her fellow Senators and Congressmen in a show of support for the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action concerning the nuclear capabilities and limitations on those capabilities of Iran.  Just eight minutes ago, the AP reported that Senate Democrats had secured enough votes to block a filibuster tomorrow when Congress takes up debate surrounding a resolution of disapproval.  It is likely that the resolution of disapproval will pass in the House of Representatives but may not pass in the Senate.  If the resolution for disapproval passes in the Senate, President Obama will veto the resolution, and as things stand there are not enough votes in the Senate to override the veto meaning that the agreement will stand.

Here is what the announcement by Senator Pelosi looked like from the vantage point on my walk this evening.

Senator Pelosi and colleagues speaking on the steps of the Capitol during my walk this afternoon.

It's worth noting that I did not specifically time my walk to correspond with any of this political speechifying, and that my seeing this announcement was strictly coincidental to my daily practice.  It's also worth noting that only a street's width of air separated me from this relatively large group of Senators.  There was really no crowd to speak of, and I could come and go as I wished.  There were a few folks dressed like these guys floating around the area.

Capitol Policemen, one armed with an M-4 hanging around during Nacy Pelosi's presser.

The whole experience made the process feel very accessible, and if anyone is interested in seeing the federal government in action, there are precious few barriers to being a passive (or active) participant in that process from what I've observed.

What started out as an incorrectly assumed mundane day turned out to be a pretty amazing event for my when it was all wrapped up.  It serves as a lesson to me to maintain my sense of wonder and an openness to being amazed at what life will unfold around me if I am both patient enough and open enough to let it.

The Ups and Downs of Routine

When I was a bit younger...quite a bit younger, I used to dream of all the things I would do when I finally got old enough to call my own shots.  Just a few short years of high school, or finishing college, or establishing myself in a job or marriage or with the children were all that separated me from the freedom that I had been seeking for all the time leading up to those particular milestones and the ones that came before them.

Back in the early days, I suspect what I really wanted was the same sort of freedom that I already had at my fingertips, but with just a little more means to truly accomplish those things that I wished.  This kicked off a whole series of events that would eventually lead to me mustering the means that I'd sought to truly take advantage of the freedom that I already had.

The way the system here works is that (generally) the more means you muster, the more responsibility that you have to execute to hold onto those means.  More responsibility means a little less time on your hands, and suddenly I found that I had fallen into a bit of a routine that responsible people like me call "time management."  I began to resemble this...

Now in all fairness, this sentiment has a number of detractors, and Mr. Kain has a point about speaking this way from a position of privilege. That said, there is quite a bit of truth in this statement and it's worth remembering when the routine of responsibilities and the struggle to earn a living get a bit out of balance.  In the midst of all the struggle, there is still the opportunity to change your perspective, and for me, that's an important aspect of retaining the perspective of freedom that can so easily be lost in the execution of the routine.

Earlier this morning, I was treading along one of my more familiar routes wondering what I was going to write about tonight, when I decided on a whim to jump up on top of a wall that runs along Annapolis Harbor to see if that change of a couple of feet from my usual route might offer some inspiration.  It's something that I've seen my kids do time and time again, and I've probably even done it myself although I don't remember the specifics.

The first thing that struck me was that the act of stepping up removed me from the minor crush of pedestrian traffic that was out and about in the cool Labor Day morning.  I had space to my front and my back, that had been there the whole time (and many other times before) that I'd just failed to see clearly enough to take advantage of at the time.

Also, while the view was largely the same as the view from the sidewalk, the act of stepping up a double handful of inches changed my routine just enough to gain a new appreciation of the view.  This is what I saw.

Annapolis Harbor from the top of the sea wall.

The simple act of breaking my routine added a new perspective on a familiar view.  It put a bit of spring back in my step, broke me out of some mental complaining that I'd been engaged in, and set the tone for a day a little more full of doing things to maximize the freedoms I'd dreamed of achieving at this point in my life as a younger man.

Routine is a very useful tool in getting the things done that need to be done, but I think it's important to inject little ups and downs into the routine to serve as a reminder of the joy that the routine enables.  When the responsibility and routine become an ends to themselves life becomes a bit more of a honing experience than was intended by the architect of the wonder that exists all around us.

Summer Winds Down

Today was another relatively typical day.  Pretty even keeled in that nothing really spectacular happened, but there were no real challenges either.  It's as if, as summer winds down, the universe (or at least my little slice of it) seems to be taking a bit of a breather.  There are no obvious signs of the summer coming to a close.  The weather was still pretty hot, the pool was packed, and the boats were still out.

The Boats in Annapolis Harbor

The crabbers and the fishermen are still out working the shallows and docks.  Today I walked past a midshipmen on the campus of USNA who had landed three pretty good rockfish that were slightly longer than my forearm from fingertips to elbow.  Back in Texas, we used to call them stripers or striped bass. Like salmon, they seem to be equally at home in both salt and fresh water, and like salmon return from the ocean in the spring to breed in the rivers.

Perhaps there is just a little more crispness in the air.  Football season has started, and there seems to be a slight uptick in farmers markets and arts festivals.  In fact, I came across this happy little surprise on West Street during my morning constitutional.

West Street Arts Festival

It's the set-up for the West Street Arts Festival which happens on the first Sunday of the month going forward for awhile.  This little "stumbled upon" gem was not quite as exciting as the Mardis Gras Parade in Daphne, AL that I accidentally walked right into the middle of last February.  There were no floats with scantily clad revellers throwing moon pies, Little Debbie snack cakes, and beads.  I did however break up what I thought was going to be a run of the mill walk and allow me to practice my bipedal locomotion right down the middle of the street.  Walking the street is always a welcome change and brings with it an entirely new perspective on a well known route.

At any rate, it feels like there is a change in the air.  A new season is approaching.  Frankly, I think I'm ready for it.  Come February and the cold north wind it brings, I'm sure I'll be pining a bit for just a hint of the warm humid air I've come to tolerate (barely) this summer, but for now I welcome the approaching fall.