The Bridge Keepers

I've got an acquaintance that I keep in touch with periodically from afar.  When I first met him, he was teaching firefighting, and the second time we met he was drinking a Corona spiked with grenadine, which given the pink color I found quite out of character.  At any rate, that aspect of his personality is not the only surprise that was in store for me.  He also has proven himself to be quite a philosopher, and a few months ago he pointed me in the direction of this little gem.

We are the Bridgemen, connecting one era to another.

This quote, which I think is an excellent description of people of my vintage and even a little younger, popped into my head this evening as I was making one of my more standard training loops on the long path to the Pilgrimage.  As I approached the one mile point, I came across this.  I'm not sure why this triggered thoughts back to Mr. Grenadine Corona's quote because I walk past this routinely, but tonight it struck me because this image that I see just about every day manifests what I hope to be the truth of the quote above.

12 m Satellite Ground Station

This 12 m Satellite Ground Station has been used since the late 1980's to train midshipmen at the United States Naval Academy in a number of Astronautical Engineering topics and conducted communications with numerous GEO and LEO satellites, the Space Shuttle, and the International Space Station (ISS).  Since travelling to the moon, the manned space program world wide has been kept largely confined to LEO, and I'm hopeful that change is coming to stretch our legs again.  I will likely not be able to participate in the next steps of manned space exploration, but I understand the draw and the call to go where we haven't yet gone. 

Severn River Bridge

We are the bridgemen, and we are entrusted to maintain the path toward the next steps for the generations that will follow.  It's possible that my recent sense of consolidation and waiting is part of this broader generational story, but probably not.  It is good to be reminded that there is a great deal of work left to accomplish if we are to realize our potential as a species.

Bringing Balance to Your Being...Oh, Look a Squirrel

Today was another consolidation day.  A consolidation day is one of those days or weeks or months or even years when things feel like they are just not moving anywhere very quickly.  There is motion all around, but it's short motion, and it is not directed in any sort of noticeably coherent manner.  Quite frankly, I was a little bit worried about what I should say in the daily column, so on the early morning walk I started looking for something funny or spiritual or entertaining to snap a daily photo and then spend the rest of the day slowly piecing together the text that would add the profundity to the pixels.

Every bit of that last sentence (with the possible exception of the profundity bit) is generally how the process has been working over the last several weeks.  Minutes into my walk, I noticed that the breeze was unusually calm, and the water of the Anacostia River were about as smooth as I have ever seen them.  There was a crew from one of the several rowing clubs just upriver from the Riverfront Park area that was out practicing.  You could hear the slice of their shell through the water, and it reminded me of early Sunday morning waterskiing at the east end of Broad Bay off of Lynnhaven Inlet in Virginia Beach.  It was a holy hour before the chop had been put on the water by other boaters and breeze, and the clean swishing sizzle of the boat across the top of the water made everything seem right with the world.  Balance could be found with a 60 hp outboard and the right time of day.  That was the same type of calm that I sensed this morning on the Anacostia.  The mirror images of everything near the river demonstrated the flatness of the river, and this is what it looked like.

ex-USS Barry reflected in the Anacostia River

At the time I knew I was forcing it, but I hoped to be able to come up with something profound to say about the balance and serenity.  Something deep and spiritual and meaningful.  Because I was forcing it, unsurprisingly, that's not what happened at all.

Fortunately I was saved from the unpleasant and probably unfruitful task later on in the afternoon during my second walk for the day.  You guessed it I...Oh look, a squirrel.

Albino Squirrel (Front View)

Not only did I spot a squirrel, I spotted an albino squirrel.  This guy was an attention grabber, and by the way he reacted to the camera I suspect he'd been given quite a bit of camera time by the folks out and about on the Washington, DC Mall.

Albino Squirrel (profile view)

Apparently, sightings of albino grey squirrels are relatively common in Washington, DC, but this is the first one that I've ever seen.  This is the guy you can thank for ensuring that today's entry was not some ponderous overly sappy segment of life balance and the oneness of the universe.  There will be plenty of those I'm sure, bur for now I'll just celebrate this unusual squirrel sighting.

I Won't Do That...or a Commitment to the Unlikely

I was looking down at my feet this morning after sitting down from my walk, and I noticed that I had done something that I suspect was a social faux pas that I promised all powers in the universe that I would never commit myself.  What was this heinous offense, you may ask.  As I glanced down at the source of my bipedal locomotion, I realized that I had become the slightly doughy 40'ish man that wore black 3/4 calf socks with athletic shoes and shorts.  This development was shocking enough that if begged to be captured for all posterity.  Here is what I saw.

White athletic kicks, 3/4 calf black socks, and by the hair of my legs you can easily see I am wearing this horrid combination with shorts.  It's either that, or I don't have any pants on which is a situation to terrifying to imagine, but since I mentioned it, you'll find it mostly impossible to keep the thought from crossing your mind...I hope.

About the only redeeming feature of this sad state of affairs is the fact that the socks are pushed down a bit and not hiked up in the fashion that has become associated with this terrible habit by males of my particular vintage.

This situation is something I promised myself that, "I won't do that."  Clearly that was a commitment to the unlikely.  Thinking about the sox, shoes and shorts resulted in thoughts of other things that I had decided as a youth not to do.  There were very good reasons this morning for becoming the cliche that I'd vowed to avoid, and the practicality of the decision outweighed any embarrassment I might have felt on this issue 25 or 30 years ago.  I'd like to think that I'd "grown up" a little since I first made the unlikely pledge.

Sadly, embarrassment and anxiety caused me to not do a number of other things in my youth that I probably have grown out of as well.  If I had things to do all over again, I would probably do things just a bit differently.  Here's a short list for those youths that might come across these musings for your consideration.

1.  I would have asked more girls to dance.  It would not matter to me if they said no because they were popular and I was not.  I'll never know the opportunities that I may have let slip through my fingers for fear (yes, fear) of being told, "No."

2.  I would have been friendlier with my peers who participated in the Future Farmers of America.  There are number of reasons for both my unwarranted rudeness as well as a number of reasons why it was an utterly undefendable stance.  This topic is probably worth a whole post on its own, so remind me about down the road and I'll share my insights.

3.  I would have been more daring in my choice of clothing, and I'm not just talking about wearing black socks with shorts and sneakers.  Nothing says confident like a bright pink tie and a royal blue shirt, and I allowed myself to discover this eye catching combination a bit earlier in my outfitting "career."

4.  Did I mention that I would have asked more girls to dance, and by more I mean all of them.  I would have asked them all to hold my hand and walk in the rain as well.  I had nothing to lose and so much to gain.

It's not too late for me yet (as evidenced by my nod to practicality exhibited in the picture above), but the runway is likely considerably shorter than it was 30 years ago.  Don't do what I did.  Live boldly, and don't take yourself too seriously.  That said, tomorrow I think I'll make a little extra effort to remember to bring the long pants.