The Power of Radio and Night Transit

I have become increasingly fond of radio drama and the entire format of using the radio (or spoken dialogue) as a medium for telling stories. I really like storytelling and the many different ways surrounding the methods behind it. Radio is only one that I have recently discovered, which I have come to love.

I should have suspected this on my constant addiction to NPR on the radio during my summer job half way through college. I had about a 30 minute commute one-way into the warehouse, so I had a bit of time to myself. After exhausting the Top 40 of: Pop, R&B, Classic Rock, Modern Rock, Rap, and Country, I decided to scan to the NPR channels. I really the station in Western North Carolina (aptly named WNCW) because of its bluegrass shows, but also because of their weekend story programs.

I instantly became hooked.

Garrison Keillor became my favorite of all. I instantly became hooked on A Prairie Home Companion and the witty comedy and wonderful stories told on the program. I believe it also resonated with me a lot because I consider myself from the Midwest...ish. (More Heartland, but more about that later.) It made me feel good, and still does to this day, that there is a program that can poke fun at, criticize, and applaud Midwestern culture. You don't find many more references to the Midwest outside of Garrison Keillor's show.

Moving through time, I came to my road trip out here (Vancouver), where I simply listened to the radio as my only means of entertainment. Yes, I had an iPod with music on it, and I did have my Google Play Music account... But I made it a challenge to myself to listen to the radio with no other recorded sound or music available. I would consider it a success, even if it did mean having to listen between a preacher giving the word of God, or really terrible mariachi love songs. (No judgement on either of those forms of radio, but after 4 hours in a car and those are the only choices you have... It gets kind of old.)

I heard all kinds of news stories and programs. I pretty much was hooked on news my entire trip, for five days straight. And I loved it.

Here was no constantly moving talking heads, no distracting literature, and no cliched riffs or chords. It always was being updated, always on the move, always with wonderful and meaningful stories. I should say I am a little biased here, because I did listen to only NPR the entire way out.

But this brings me to a program I have been obsessing over for the past week: Welcome to Night Vale. Now this is not a "radio show", but a podcast. And this is why I throw in the "spoken word" category. There is so much you can do with your voice, and this program shows it.

Its about a creepy little town in the middle of the desert named Night Vale. That is pretty much all I can tell you coherently. (Without the black helicopters coming to scan my brain.) But the usage of the voice of the announcer (Cecil) is amazing, along with the progression of the format (it is always the "Community Radio" news segment), and the tones and background noises and sounds. The effects capture your ears in no way a television or book can. You have auditory clues and clips, leading you on into certain events, which literature does not. But you are also left without the distraction of moving pixels, and visual clutter in your brain, which television and movies do.)

What is left is a stripped down program you must pay attention to more than television, but not nearly as much as a book. It makes for a strange middle ground. When a creek happens behind the announcer, or a strange noise is heard faintly in the background, it really leaves your imagination up to fill in the blank spots.

And now, the weather.

So tonight I went to see/hear War of the Worlds performed live by the Willamette Radio Group. I really, really liked it.

The foley for the entire show was awesome, and the narrators and reactions of how it all played out were great. But it was also nice to sit back and just stare to a wall in the room and imagine yourself in the situation of the people in the program. At the beginning of the show they said they strive to make you feel apart of the action and story, to make it feel like you can hear it as if it were going on around you. It takes a special kind of touch to get that harmony of sound effects and descriptions to line up correctly. And they did it without fault.

I bumped around town for a bit, and shopped for a new phone charger and some batteries. I found the batteries, and eventually found the phone charger, but it was way too expensive. And somehow I ended up with five free flashlights with the battery purchase.

Whoops.

But there is always that nostalgia/reflexive attitude the night bus, or in this case bus and rail, can give you when traveling. After a long day, I was headed back home on the bus, and felt really proud of myself. The reflections in the windows bounced back my situation to me, and let me know that... Everything is alright in the world. All of it is quite dandy. 

Square Dances in the Port

On Sunday I attended a square dance in Portland, and it reminded me of the social goodness which exist.

It was a place you would not expect to find an old-time band. I don't want to be cliche, but it was a concrete jungle leading through spiraling exit ramps and right-hand roads to a bike shop/bar/dance floor/community center.

Upon arriving, I watched the dancers for the first move (which we had narrowly missed). Its alright though, I didn't want to jump right in into the first dance of the night. I watched them do a line dance, kind of a simplified version of the Virginia Reel. After that, I jumped in with my partner, and started spinning and wheeling and turning.

I learned so many new moves during the dance. Actually... all of them were new or variations, which was wonderful. The whole dance brought new light up within me (And saying that, trying to not sound religious.)

Its weird.

Dancing seems to let me be the happiest that I feel. Well... I should say square dancing. I have tried other dances, and I really like them. But I think social dances are the best. I really like the fact that people can simply meet together, hold hands and swing together as a group. Its a place to chat, meet, and catch up, and just enjoy yourself.

One move I really liked was called the half alamand. One person was the "anchor", and the other was spun around the square. It included holding their hands, and the "anchor" swings them from right to left and then letting go as the next person catches them and keeps swinging them. It ends with you getting your partner back and then swinging.

I also really like the fact that this group does the two hand swing, instead of the ballroom swing. I don't want to sound creepy or strange, but I'm really glad there is a community within an urban area so full of people, that are willing to touch and interact with each other without feeling creepy or strange. It is such a good sign that strangers are willing to take people in and swing them away.

And now I have been having a bliss moment for a while. It happened at the coffee shop, when I was just staring out the window, thinking of the people on the bus, and how they are all wonderful. It reminded me of people that I have met throughout my life, and how I am still keeping up with them and posting things like this blogs to share my thoughts.

I am also wrapping up with my night, listening to Welcome Night Vale, scaring myself with the creeps of the podcast. I highly recommend it.

Completing the Myth, Seeing the Last Great Mountain

There are three mountains which prevail as the tallest, most prominent and popular in the Columbia River Gorge. They are as follows:

Mt. Hood-

Mt. Saint Helens-

Mt. Adams-

All of these mountains seem to have a personality of their own, each with their snow capped tops and glaciers.

I titled this completing the myth because there is a legend that these three mountains were the result of a lover's quarrel, one which ended in permanence.

It is said by Klickitat tribal legend that the father and his two sons came to find a home to settle. They came across the Columbia River Gorge, and thought it was the most beautiful land they had ever seen. Yet the two sons could not agree on who got what stretches of land, therefore the father shot two arrows, one landing north of the Gorge, one landing south. These respective places were where the brothers would settle. The father built a natural bridge made out of stone and earth so that his sons and their relatives could join, meet, and celebrate together from time to time.

One day a beautiful woman appeared in the Gorge, and the two brothers both took very envious eyes towards her. They both began to try to court her, and woo her into their respective sides of the Gorge. The woman liked both of the sons equally, and could not decide on which one to go with.

While courting the woman, the brothers got into a heated argument. It became so intense, that they actually started wrestling with each other to see who could win the woman over. During this match, the earth shook violently as the brothers cascaded through the Gorge. Both became fatigued and came to rest on their sides of the rivers. In the heated battle, the brothers had caused the natural bridge to collapse into the river, damming it and destroying the land link that had held their families together for so long.

The woman was so ashamed of these two fighting, she turned the men into mountains, tall and prideful, but separated and permanent. One brother was transformed into the modern day Mt. Hood, standing straight and prideful as to try to still win over the woman with his pride.

The other became modern day Mt. Adams, still very tall, but with his head bowed in respect and love towards the woman he so dearly loved.

And the woman? As for her, she too turned into a mountain, also known as Mt. Saint Helens in modern day. She would always be within eyesight of the two other mountains, but doomed to be just as permanent as they were, always fastened to the earth, never to move.

As for the bridge? The legend has lived on in the modern day bridge at the place where the natural bridge was said to have been formed. The modern bridge has been aptly named "The Bridge of the Gods" and to this day links both sides of the river for collaboration and celebration.

I felt this myth today as I visited Mt. Adams and Klickitat County. Yes, I was out for work and visiting organizations in Goldendale and White Salmon. But for some reason I seem to have an affinity for Mt. Adams, on the edge of two worlds, two biomes, ever vigilant on the dichotomy of the area, yet tucked away and not consuming the limelight. There is something so majestic about that mountain, towering over the high plains, creating a grand scale of just how small we are in comparison to the natural world...

(Mt. Adams from 50 miles away.)

The Weekend In The Woods

I am currently sitting on the floor of the Wellness downstairs nook, right across from the washing machines. Its been a while.

The eastern mountains, Appalachians in particular, are a magical place. The woods envelop the mountains, covering the highest peaks, the lowest valleys. There is warmth and humidity in the air. Crickets chirp, and another southern mountain night comes to a close.

Waking up in this magical place is one of the best feelings one can have. Your eyes open, and you realize you are in a new day, with a new place. But the friends are familiar, the land you remember vividly. The mountains surprise you every day, the new vistas drawing you ever closer to the imagination.

The memories come flashing back, and you really cannot prevent them. Welcoming them is the best thing to do. I can't believe it has been five years. Five full and wonderful years of my life, spent in this place. I will never get tired of it. Creating false hopes in that there is a perfect place balanced with your needs. So far my college has been the best suitor of those needs. The campus enveloped me at first, but was a grand and mystical adventure, always new turns around the corner.

I felt that today. I felt that this weekend. A fairyland of recollections and . Always with the emotions which come with those reunions. The emotions that come with leaving a place once you have settled back into your niche. The reintroduction to the alien and the uneasy situation of the position you accepted. I felt that today.

We are so privileged to be along on this journey and have these resources. To have the ability to zoom, jet, drive, walk to our familiar, and our place of refuge. Our cornerstone. Times of new exploration are tough, especially when you are happy and exhilarated to be where you are, when you grow into your new place and get it to fit you just right.

Its a feeling of... Peace and happiness. One that you wish you didn't have to leave behind, and are immensely sad that you had to do so...

Travel Tips & Tricks from 30,000 Feet Above the Continent

So I flew out of Portland International Airport this morning, and am well on my way jetting over to North Carolina. Can I say that flying still boggles my mind?

The fact that I am 30,000 feet up in a pressurized tube soaring over the North American continent is amazing. The fact that I am writing a blog post from that perspective is also awesome.

I saw some of the highest peaks of the cascades today while flying out. The mountains are unbelievably huge. They literally soar above the clouds. I am still bewildered by the amazing scale of things out in the west. It is funny because I have been here a month, but living in the Wilamette Valley, you never really get to see these mountains except for choice opportunities. (On the I-205 bridge you get a great view of Mt. Hood in Oregon.) And it still blows me away each time I see them.

Now I am headed into Dallas-Ft. Worth to transfer to a plane to Charlotte. Mad props to my friends who are picking me up and dropping me off. It means so much.

Airports are always a great place to explore, especially from behind the security gates. Had I had more time, I would have explored PDX more, but it seemed like your medium sized airports in terms of businesses and passengers. The diversity of people was lacking, but as I said, it is a smaller airport, and not a hub such as Seattle or LAX.

I really do not understand how people can be annoyed by airports. There is so much to see and do, so many people and cultures mixing in one place. Always a constant moving of people, ideas, and goods. It really is quite a spectacle.

As for now, I'm going to attempt to watch some of The IT Crowd on Netflix. This wireless is a bit spotty.