George Will on the Land of Plenty (via Marginal Revolution).

Congrats to Rico!

Mmm... Calamari...

A funny Scrabble thing (warning: some naughty words).

Her name is Butts. She steals toilet paper.

I spent most of last week laying low because of a lower back ache. In the big picture, this was the perfect time for such an encumbrance (if one must have one) for two reasons: 1) the weather was less than perfect and 2) my schedule cleared up so that I didn’t have a lot of obligations.

One evening I was able to knock off a number of things off my personal TODO list, which had been growing as fast as I’d been neglecting it (like weeds in my lawn). Both my dirty room and un-ironed clothes, if they were capable of thanks, would be grateful for an evening of quality time spent with them.

Ironing is not something I get excited about. To me, it’s work. The word “chore” takes on all the negative connotations one may conjure.

To facilitate time spent with the taxes of existence (other “taxes” include cleaning the bathroom, changing the car’s oil, picking up after roommates, etc.), I looked to find something a little more stimulating. TV was out of the question, since earlier that evening I suspended TV service for the summer. (I hadn’t watched  TV since the season finales of 24, Lost, The Office, and House, and there isn’t much point in paying for something I'm not using.) But I needed something, and the tunes on the CD just weren't doing it for me.

Yay, for This American Life. I've missed a number of episodes recently, so this was a great time to catch up. I scrolled through the archives, judging each by its title, and innocently picked the one that sounded the most interesting: #328: What I Learned from Television.

Ah, the irony.

Plato:

A wise man talks because he has something to say, a fool talks because he has to say something.

Proverbs 15:2 (NIV):

The tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouth of the fool gushes folly.

A trusted friend:

Dude... shut up.

Two weekends ago, the hiking troupe of Ben, Erland, and I went out to seek out what there is to see. Unfortunately, on the way to Canyon Lake, we hit a literal road block:

Apparently the road to Canyon Lake is unreachable by car because of the winds, rain, and flooding from last winter. I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot more impassible roads for the higher elevation trails once all the snow melts (some trail damage reports can be found at Washington Trails).

We instead looked over to the next page in our copy of Hiking Whatcom County (Ken Wilcox) and found Racehorse Creek Falls. It's a half-hike off of N. Fork Rd (off of Mosquito Lake Rd) in which you must climb over trees and up slippery rocks to get the best viewpoint. My best hand-held picture:

A picture taken by someone who knew what he was doing can be found here.

Random roadside pic:

This last long weekend was a blast. Two bike rides, one surf n’ turf meal (lobster and steak), one late evening concert in Tacoma (Lost Dogs, Michael Knott, Five O'clock People), one Memorial Day cookout complete with sauted mushrooms, whole onions, and plenty of asparagus.

Mmm... food, music, cycling. My kinda weekend.

The long bike ride on Saturday was my favorite thing, though. I outlasted two barking dogs, saw a few new roads, and set a new personal best for distance in a day: 43 miles.

It looks like doing the Tour de Whatcom isn’t so far-fetched, after all. Could the Mount Baker Hill Climb be far behind? (Answer: Yes.)

Friday night was my first gig. Not my gig, mind you, although I did literally play a part in it. It was Justin and Naomi’s musical baby, and I was just there to keep rhythm via djembe and play guitar on a few songs (sweet!). Not to mention that they needed someone sexy enough to keep the crowds from leaving.

The occasion was a coffee house/cafe thingie put together by a couple of the interns from a local church. They turned a cavernous multi-use room in to a homey, mood-lit coffee shop with paintings and portraits and even coffee. They did a great job.

Playing there was a lot of fun. We three had performed at two open mics in the past two weeks, so it wasn’t my first time in front of a crowd. We didn’t play together at all during the sound check. And despite a few of my patented sour F2-chords, the sound check was an anomaly. Once it was for real, we clicked and played well. The feedback was positive, too, which was a good sign.

We spent a lot of time preparing and rehearsing, and it was cool to see the work pay off as well as it did (I even sacrificed an Ultimate game to practice one night). It makes me want to think more about getting better at this guitar thing.

It was lots of fun; I would do it again.

I finally finished another article for Silhouette, so that leaves me shame-free for spending some time sharing the “what I’ve done recently” stuff. Let’s start with two weekends ago: Camping.

I went camping with a brood of Fosters (pun for those in the know) over near the Chewuch River north of Winthrop, WA. (Arial picture). The place we camped was just a spot along the road with no improvements except for a flat ground and a fire pit. As a result, no pay-to-stay, either. Highway 20 was open with 8-ft tall snow walls along the road. Very cool.

This was my second trip with my fancy new camera, and I had a blast. And not just because of the camera--you can look at the pictures to see who made it so enjoyable (day 1, day 2, day 3 (thanks to Foster to making them available)).

Coffee off the camp stove is a most satisfying drink:

Our very own Moses:

We stopped by the Falls Creek falls on the way out of the Chewuch area:

Check me out being all troubadour-like in the fire light:

Please give me advice.

Be as general or as specific as you'd like. Comments are open.

I liked the road-tripping and the camping so much last weekend that I’m doing it again. Being outside away from the noise and the scurry and all that “civilization” is one of the best things.

Off of Highway 20:

At the Columbia River gorge's Wild Horse Monument:

Columbia River Gorge #2:

If you’re around Winthrop this weekend, toss your bedroll in my tent and meet me by the river.