Drawing cultural lines

Okay, I wanted to write a long blog post about this subject, but every time that I started to write, I got a little worked up and the words didn’t come out exactly the way that I wanted. So I am going to write them here. I ask that you read this whole post before you pass judgement, send me rude comments or debate me.

Earlier this morning I received an email from Change.org telling me that I might be interested in signing this petition. As I do with all emails from change.org, I clicked on the link to head over to the site to check it out. I am willing to give every petition a look, even if they are unlikely to accomplish what they are trying to accomplish, simply because it alerts me to issues that are occurring in our country and world that might interest me. So I read through the description of the petition and I am immediately torn. The petition was in regards to the annual Lychee and Dog Meat festival held in Yulin, China. The festival itself is new, but is rooted in a belief that dates back hundreds of years in the Chinese society. Chinese people have believed that the consumption of dog

Cooks carving dog at a restaurant during the Yulin Dog Meat Festival

would ward of heat in the upcoming summer months. The festival lasts around ten days and it is estimated that 10,000-15,000 dogs are consumed during the event.

Now, as a staunch dog lover and lover of animals, I was conflicted. The idea of eating a dog is, to me, outlandish. I could never see myself eating a dog during my lifetime, even if I was not a vegetarian. I have been raised and programmed to think of dogs as pets, companions and family members. To me, as to many other people in our society, a dog is not food. I was raised instead to see other animals as a more acceptable source of food – chickens, pigs, cows, turkeys. The idea of a steak dinner or a celebration centered around a cooked turkey don’t strike many of us as odd. Society tells us that these are what we should be eating.

For many, Thanksgiving is centered around family and a cooked bird.

So, this is the part that gets a little tricky. Just because I would not eat a dog, does not mean that others should not eat a dog. I was raised in a culture that taught me that dogs were not to be eaten, that they were to be taken care of and loved. But my culture is different from the culture in China. To those that have grown up in the Chinese culture, dogs can be viewed as meat. This is the point that we need to step back from our outrage and understand cultural differences. We do not have to agree with what is happening in other cultures, but we have to understand there are accepted norms that may be in stark contrast to ours. Not accepting and, more importantly, respecting these differences can expose us as judgemental, self righteous and xenophobic.

While we do not eat dog meat, we do participate in the consumption of beef quite frequently in this country. To Americans, the breeding, slaughter and consumption of cow is done without the blink of an eye. But to a large population of people in the world, the cow is an animal that should never be eaten, an animal that is considered sacred. As of 2012 there was around a billion Hindus in the world, all of whom who believed the cow to be a sacred animal and all of whom are directly opposed to the consumption of the animal. To those who practice Hinduism, our practice of eating beef can be seen in the same way that many in our country would view eating a dog.

“But dogs are highly intelligent and loyal animals. They’re not exactly on the same level as cows.”

Alright. I could argue about the cognitive abilities of cows that have been tested, but I will concede this point since dogs obviously show that they are on a different level intellectually than their bovine brethren. So we don’t eat dogs because they are smart and loyal animals. If that is the case let me pose this question, why do we as American eat pig then?

Pigs have been proven to be on the same level, if not above that of dogs intellectually. They have excellent long term memories, can understand symbolic language, exist in complex communities that allow them to learn from each other and they can even express empathy when another of their kind is feeling pain. I would be willing to say that some human could learn a little from them regarding empathy.

I am not here to advocate that everyone stops eating meat. While I believe that we as a society should curb our over-consumption of meat, it is not my place to tell anyone how to behave or what to eat. What I am asking, is that when a story such as the Yulin Dog Festival comes floating through your stream, you think a little bit about how the things you do and that you eat might be viewed by another society. Thinking about your own actions, respecting the views of another culture and not passing judgement simply because our values differ is the first step to truly understanding one another.

Big Bend Ranch State Park

We left Austin early Sunday morning in a rush,  feeling as if we were leaving something behind or forgetting to finalize our exit.  But as we hit the road,  buzzing through the bland, flat lands of West Texas those fears subsided and we began to come to grips that we were now in fact homeless and on our great adventure.

Our first stop was a last minute decision. Days before we were to leave I Suggs making a stop at the state portion of Big Bend,  since we couldn’t explore the National Park with the dogs.

As we entered Big Bend territory,  it became clear this was the right decision. I’ve been a few places in my life that I’ve considered beautiful – Letchworth, Niagara Falls, the Caribbean- but none that have immediately taken my breath away the way that Big Bend did.

We pulled into my our campsite around 4:30 on Sunday,  set up camp and discovered that the mountains just south of where we were were in fact in Mexico. The small river that ran through the campground was the Rio Grandeyand a signed warned us that crossing over the border would make us subject to a $5,000 fine.

There are only two trails at Big Bend Ranch State Park that are open to dogs – Closed Canyon and Hoodoo. As the heat began to die down we decided to explore a bit and took off down the road to the Closed Canyon trail.  It’s a short trail,  about a mile an a half round-trip, but we’ll worth  the time. The trail takes you into a narrow Canyon passageway with cliffs on either side rivaling that of a ten story building.

The next morning we packed up camp and headed off to Hoodoo. Hoodoo was shooter, but boasted a few interesting rock structures.  Hoodoo is an African term that is used to describe rock formations that resemble animal forms.  These structures are created by wind and water erosion. Wind and water wear away the softer rock,  leaving harder and denser rock to stand in ways that seem improbable.

While both of these trails made me feel glad to be out exploring the wild of West Texas,  it was the drive along Route 170 that provided spectacular views. The highway wound along the Mexican border, giving us a great look at the rock cliffs, mountains and river that make the region something truly special.

Check out a video of the drive on my YouTube page here.

The Big Bend region also offers something else that I have been searching for since my days in elementary school. Total darkness at night. I was obsessed with the portable planetarium that the school would set up in the gymnasium once a year. The artificial versions of the constellations made me want to see their real life counterparts, but living in an area with constant ambient light never let me see them in their full glory.  In the West Texas night however, this was possible.

And the stars didn’t disappoint. They appeared slowly as the sun made its progressions over the horizon,  and as it became darker and darker more stars that it had ever dreamed of being able to see showed themselves.  It was almost something too surreal, like something a Hollywood visual effects crew would concoct. I can’t explain how small and insignificant they made me feel while at the same time inspiring me. Sadly, I wasn’t able to capture the true beauty of the stars in pictures. But the experience is burned into my brain forever.

We spent less than twenty-four hours in Big Bend but they were some of the happiest of my life. If you ever get a chance to down to Texas to check out Big Bend,  I highly recommend it.

You can’t go home again…

You can’t go home again. It’s a popular saying that means that once you leave the confines of your small town home for a big city life, you can never regain that feeling and way of life upon your return. To some degree, I agree. Once your mind has been opened to the possibilities that lie outside your hometown’s boundaries, life is different.

Where I choose to disagree however, is in the definition of home. To some, home is a place that they have known since they were born, a place where they experienced many of life’s

My hometown of Baldwinsville, New York

pleasures for the first time, a place that they donned a cap and gown and pranced from childhood and into the real world. These are all legitimate criteria when attempting to define what home is but there is something else that helps make our place or origin so special to some of us. Family.

 

I have no family in Austin. In my twenty months here I have only been able to make it north to visit family, and friends, on two occasions –  a planned return six months after my departure and a hurried trip due to the death of my girlfriend’s grandmother. While those trips were fun, they didn’t afford me much time with anyone in particular. Try squeezing hanging out with everyone you grew up with into a five day stretch. It doesn’t work.

So when my sister Theresa told me that she was planning a trip to Texas, I was ecstatic. Over the years I may not have been the easiest brother to deal with, nor the most mature, but she stuck by me through those times and I have a deep gratitude for her for doing so. Theresa is the one link I still have to my nuclear family that I still have a good relationship with and I wish to maintain that.

I had planned to whisk her around to everything that embodied the vibe of the city – the Congress Street bats, the plethora of taco places, the food trucks, some live music and drink, and – that thing that us northerners in Texas enjoy the most – the sun. I had the

The Congress Bridge Bats

week planned out in my head as a mad dash from place to place, impressing her with my knowledge of the local eateries and history. I’d show her my favorite taco place, the moontowers, the UT campus, and the best swimming holes. But sometimes things don’t always work out like you plan them. Sometimes that is the best thing that could happen.

 

 

She arrived in Austin to be greeted with very un-Austinlike weather. It was in the low sixties and misty. You know, that rain that isn’t quite rain but is just annoying enough to get your clothes damp and make you rethink any outdoor plans you had. Her and my girlfriend spent the first couple days of her visit touring some of the local shops and thrift stores. Since I was working, and as a man have little interest in being in a store more than 7 minutes, I don’t have a fun, entertaining account of these adventures. Although I am sure it was riveting looking at cat statues and other oddities at Uncommon Objects.

My first day off from work during her visit provided us with more rain, this kind the real stuff that makes drivers down here panic and drivers in New York laugh and scoff simultaneously. After that however, it was smooth sailing and the fun began. Amber and I shuttled my sister off to some of our favorite places, Art on 5th, Torchy’s, food trailer parks, The White Horse, swimming, etc. We even spent a good deal of time laying in the sun by the pool drinking beer and shooting the shit.

Amber, Theresa and myself.

As Amber was getting ready for work Sunday morning I asked my sister what she wanted to do.

“Junk Gypsy!”

“Uh, what is that?” Apparently Junk Gypsy is a business owned by two sisters that is featured on a television show on God only knows what station. Probably the History channel the way their programming is going nowadays.

So we dropped Amber off at work and headed out to Round Top, Texas. The areas was booming with a big antique show, people walking up and down the streets with chairs, signs, hot dogs and the typical big cowboy hats.

I don’t have much to say about the Junk Gypsy place, it’s not my kind of thing, but I can say that it made me happy to see my sister really enjoying the place. I took a picture of her in front, or next to nearly everything in a 1000 foot radius of the place. I didn’t mind. It was great to see her enjoying everything and I was glad that I could take her to see it all.

But the highlight, for me at least, came on the Monday before she left. We debated going down to Barton Pool for a dip since it was in the mid eighties, but instead decided to rent some kayaks and paddle around. Paddling up and down the Colorado River with the sun bathing us in warmth, we laughed, splashed, and nature watched. We encountered dozens of turtles, glowing with childlike wonderment as we drifted as close as we could to them without startling them into dropping into the water and swimming away.

My sister Theresa and the turtles

Selfie after my phone went for a swim.

Amber and the turtles

So relaxing.

Amber and Theresa

While her visit did not fit the mold that I had in my head, it was perfect. We got time to talk, laugh and relax, three things that I didn’t pencil into the itinerary. It made me feel like a little brother again, made me feel connected to my roots. But the most important thing of all that came out of the week was that it made me feel like I was home again. Maybe it is true that you can never go home again, but home never disappears. There are still bits and pieces that remain ever important, ever vibrant in your life whether you know it or not. And the best thing about our modern, technological society is that you don’t always have to go home to feel at home. Sometimes a little piece of home can come straight to you.

https://www.instagram.com/p/raD8kboF8B/?taken-by=theoldcrowtheory

Preparation is the key to success

The other night I was sitting on my couch, watching a rerun of a Parks and Rec episode that I had seen a dozen times when I thought to myself that I wanted a soda. Since Amber and I struggle to keep food in the house, much less actual beverages, I knew that obtaining a soda would entail me walking through the apartment complex, around a 30 foot long fence and into the little bodega on the corner.

The more I thought about it, the more I tried to convince myself that I really didn’t want one. In reality the urge was still there, but the 90 second walk was seemingly too much of an obstacle to overcome in order to get one. (Plus the floors are ALWAYS wet in there, and it smells slightly of cat urine and old ham.) Now, I am not saying I am a lazy person, but I have my moments.

In a little over a month there will be no walks to the store to get soda. There will be no couch, there will be no bodega. And there will sure as hell be no laziness.

No more lazy days, Coledog.

Our tour of the National Forests will leave no room for laziness. We plan to camp on primitive sites a majority of the time. These will call for us to hike miles into the forest, and on many days we will be looking to do 8-10 miles before we set up. I am excited about this, but I also know that it will not be easy at first for either of us, let alone the dogs. So we decided to start building up our endurance.

There are some places here in Austin to “hike” and we have started taking the dogs, with all of our gear strapped to our backs in our packs. We likely look like fools trudging through a city park geared up like we are about to spend a week hauling up the side of a mountain, but preparation is needed.

Our first trip took us to what is called the Barton Creek Greenbelt. The Greenbelt is about 8 miles long from end to end, runs right through the city and is a popular destination for runners, swimmers, and hikers. Many people bring their dogs as well (often off leash, which another issue altogether).

 

Our packs, not yet fully loaded.

Barton Creek Greenbelt

Chewie

Cole can’t stay out of the water. Chewie can’t be dry enough.

 

The first hike was short, only a couple miles, but it was a good test run with our new packs and the dogs. It gave us a good idea of how the packs felt with weight, how we could maneuver with the dogs and at what point we began to sweat. Sweating is dangerous when you are hiking in areas where the temperature drops significantly at night, as you don’t want to be in wet clothes when this happens. The trip was pretty uneventful, which can actually be viewed as a good thing.

The goal is to slowly build ourselves and the dogs up so that when it comes time to push the rubber to the dirt, we won’t be struggling after a few miles. I would say that we can realistically expect to cover over 200 miles on foot in the woods over the course of the trip. Maybe even more.

Endurance is the last true need in our preparation for this trip. We have amassed a decent stash of non perishable food as well as many of the camping and hiking essentials. We still have some needs to fill out, which we are slowly plugging away at and should be finished with before we leave in a month. So physical goods will not be an issue.

We just need some trail time. Before we have nothing but trail time.

 

 

The Threat of Rain

Things are usually pretty dry here in Austin. Rain events, at least ones that last for more than a few minutes, often lead to flash flooding and complete chaos. I always thought that those who fell victim to flash floods were complete morons, but during the last flash flood I saw how serious that shit really can be.

I was working just north of the city in a suburb called Pflugerville at a job site that had no buildings aside from the temporary office trailer. Word had it that there was a tornado in the area so instead of forcing us to hole up in what essentially is a twister magnet, my boss called off work for the rest of the day and sent us all home.

Now considering that I live twenty five miles south of where I was working, I knew I had an interesting drive ahead of me. I opted to take the toll road home, as the main interstate is an accident waiting to happen on a good day, I couldn’t imagine negotiating it when rain was coming down in buckets.

That turned out to be an excellent idea, at least until I had to exit onto another road. Travel on the tollway was easy, the road was wet, but nowhere near flooded. But exiting ontoroute 71 to head west to my apartment was another story. I got a couple hundred yards down and found myself tricked into a deep pool of water. I felt my heart race, and immediately thought of those “Turn round, don’t drown” advertising campaigns. Heady advice, just wish it had clicked in my brain sooner.

Yes, I know it’s from Oklahoma.

In my defense, there was clear, shallow water pooled over much of the roadways, with the deeper water tinted brown from the stripped earth it carried with it. This water, the water that I thought I was most assuredly going to have to sit in until help arrived, was clear.

Halfway through the puddle, I felt my car slogged down, heard the engine sputter, and thought that this was how I’d lose this car. But to my surprise, the car lurched out of the puddle and reached the other side.

The whole episode could have gone far worse. When I got home the news was showing vehicles trapped in rushing water, emergency respondents throwing ropes the their drivers to pull them to safety. All of that was happening just a couple tenths of a mile up the road from when I had my incident. Lesson learned.

That’s highway 183, not far from where I almost got stuck.

I mention this because for the past few days it has done nothing but rain here. The ground is keeping up with it, absorbing the rain as it comes down so there is no flooding. I’ve lost two days of work to the weather, two days that I have enjoyed having off but nonetheless will affect my bottom line when it comes time to head out on the road.

It may sound crazy, but I miss the rain. I miss the change in the weather. I hope that when we are out in the forest, we encounter some precipitation (NO SNOW) so I can feel like I am not living in some climate control bio-dome. The rain can bring you down, it has a somber feel to it, but it can also wash you clean. it can wash away the sweat, the heat, the fear, the pain. It matters how you look at it.

I remember as a child being ecstatic when it rained. I wanted to go outside. I wanted to jump in the puddles. I wanted to feel the sky rinse me clean the way it rinsed the rest of the world. So when I say that I am hoping for rain, I guess I don’t see it as threatening after all, I welcome it.

Austin, I’ll miss (some of) you.

It actually hit me recently that the place that I have lived for the last year and a half will be in the rear-view mirror shortly. There are many things that I hate about Austin – the traffic, the hipsters, the price of rent, the gentrification – but there are also many things I will miss.

My sister is coming down for a visit at the end of the month, one last hurrah before we take off. It will give me a chance to not only see her again for more than the three or so hours I’ve seen her combined in the last eighteen months, but it will give me a chance to celebrate all that I love about this city.

Tacos – They’re everywhere. And they’re delicious. Tacodeli and Torchy’s are the two most popular destinations for people in the city, and they are willing to go to war to defend that their choice of taco is the best. We are a Tochy’s house, that little devil baby is too damn cute to resist. Plus the Independent is da bomb.

However, they are not the best in the city.  Places like Papalote, El Torito and Maria’s Taco Xpress hold their own with fresh ingredients and traditional preparation. I am by no means an expert on what makes one taco great compared to others, I just know what tastes good. The average tacos that I have had down here in Texas beat anything that I have had in Syracuse or anywhere else in my life.

The Sun – Austin is always sunny. Even on days where the residents are bundled up in coats and gloves, it seems like the sun is still shining. Growing up in a place whose weather seems to be sponsored by the color grey left me believing that that’s how it was supposed to be in the winter. Cold, ominous, brutal. Austin isn’t like that. I’ve been swimming in early March, walked around in shorts and flip flops in late December and sat on my spacious 10 x 6 patio reading pretty much all year round.

Sure, July and August are unbearable, and would cause even the most defiant soul to retreat into the safe haven of an air conditioned apartment or store.Those days can be tempered with swimming and there is something about that heat that makes you feel alive.

Swimming – Austin is a pretty dry place overall, with rain being a rare and major event. So when you trudge out into the hot air of summer, you know that the only thing that is going to truly cool you down is plopping into a natural body of water. Barton Creek runs through Austin and the city operates a swimming area not far from downtown that is a popular place. But Amber and I rarely go there.

Instead, we head to another part of Barton Creek, or just south to San Marcos, that

John J. Stokes Park in San Marcos, Texas

Barton Springs Pool in Zilker Park in Austin.

Chewie and Cole sharing some fun

requires a short hike to access. We can bring the dogs off leash, and swim, play and drink as we please. My first major positive memory of the city is swimming with our dogs in San Marcos.  The idea of finding a local watering hole and jumping in, dogs running free to chase sticks or balls into the water, never really was a reality in Syracuse. Here, the options are plentiful.

Live Music – Admittedly, I have not been to as many shows since I have been in Austin as I thought I would have. But I have been to some. Austin is the self proclaimed “Live Music Capital of the World” and while that title might be seen as a little arrogant, it still may be somewhat true.

https://www.instagram.com/p/4vDowYIF15/?taken-by=theoldcrowtheory

 

Historic venues like The Scoot Inn, The White Horse, Broken Spoke, Emo’s, Continental Club present an eclectic selection of shows that is sure to please even the pickiest Austinite. As someone that enjoys a wide range of music, I know that each and every week there will be a show that will bear some interest for me.

Access to Anything – This may not be exclusive to Austin, it may be due to the fact that it is a large city, but it is most definitely a positive. I can’t remember one time that there was something that I needed or wanted and could not find a place that was open to buy it from. Libraries are plentiful and conveniently located, and their catalog is enormous. A good portion of the texts that I needed for my college classes were borrowed from the Austin Public Library.

There is always a store, restaurant or bar open as well. If you need a new plunger and a roll of Mentos at 3 a.m., a short drive will place you at a store that will be selling both of those. If you’re hungry and it’s late, there is bound to be some food trailer just around the corner that is still slingin’ eats. And let’s just say, there is no shortage of places that will be more than happy to pour a draft of craft for you.

I could go on and on with all the benefits of this city. The regular city wide events, the iconic bookstore and let’s not forget the street art. Austin has a lot to offer, and to those that are thinking about moving here, I would recommend it. Just understand that the city has some negatives as well.

When we finally leave Austin, it will be like we are going back in time 100 years. We will be sacrificing all of the modern conveniences of a big city for the simplicity and untouched calm of the woods. Austin hasn’t swept me off my feet, but it has made me a little fond of it. I will miss many things in this city aside from the ones that I mentioned and even though I am ready to move on, I feel like a little part of me is glad that this place has been my home for a little while.

Holy Schnikies!

7,741. That is how many miles this next adventure is going to cover. New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, Utah, Wyoming, South Dakota, Colorado and Kansas are all new for me. Plus the 5 that we will be driving through make 18, allowing us to cover 36% of the States in a single trip.

The trip that Amber and I have planned is ambitious. When you decide to do something that you have longed to do for a long time, you can’t half ass it. And we are most definitely not doing that. The trip is going to lead us out of Austin heading west towards our first destination in the Gila wilderness of New Mexico. From there, we know will be heading further west, then north, the south a little, the east. You get the picture.

We have mapped out a series of National Forests to visit, a few parks, two major cities, a family member and a childhood friend. Aside from that, we can roam where ever we choose to, stuffing our backpacks full and marching out into the untouched, primitive wilderness  as we so desire. The idea of living on our own itinerary is what makes this trip so exciting. We will be free of time clock, utility bills and awkwardly helpful neighbors for as long as we so choose.

I have lived under the rules of societal acceptability for quite a while now, and the hustle and mindless repetition that infects us all every day has just gotten to be too much for me to handle. Some days I feel as if I do nothing more than sleep, eat and work. Monday morning I look at my phone and see it’s seven a.m. and when I look back down it’s Sunday afternoon and another week of my life is gone, accomplishing nothing more than paying the bills that I must to insure that all the other adults in my area can see that I too am a fully functioning, responsible adult human being.

Additionally, as a technologically inclined culture of people, we are constantly looking at our phones or computers or tablets or televisions. This screen dependence happens to a lot of us, myself included. We need be able to break away from this grasp that these screens have on us, and learn that the important things that we remember at the end of our lives will not be home on any screen, they will be laying within us in our memories and emotions.

What I am saying is this – we need to do the things that truly make us feel alive, that test our boundaries and bring true peace to our overloaded minds. I have never had anything that I viewed on a screen that has done any of those things for me. For me, it’s being out in the world, living with authenticity and truly experiencing the world around me.

So that is what this trip is about. For both of us. A chance to rest ourselves, wipe away a little of the modern world and have no regrets when life is over.