Words Into Bytes

The opening sequences of Up in the Air with its airplane window views of the American landscape set to “This Land is Your Land” thrilled me. And then there was George Clooney’s character, Ryan Bingham. He had lifehacked his routine to perfection. No wasted space. No wasted effort. He performed a perfect ballet of efficiency. How I admired him even as I knew that I could never slip the bounds of earth so emotionally rooted am I in my possessions. Yet I admire him as neither his fellow characters or the movie did. For Up in the Air is a cautionary tale about ridding yourself of baggage, whether material goods or relationships. Those, like Ryan Bingham and mirror-image “with a vagina” Alex Goran (Vera Farmiga) , who succeed are thought to be cold fish, indeed, living out an unenviable life.

Strange how I can reside in the other camp, a meticulous caretaker of my possessions and the memories imbued within them and yet feel no disdain for people who live in that airy realm. I started to write “who choose a different path” but I think it’s more a difference in personality than choice. Ryan Bingham hasn’t chosen a different path so much as he belongs to a different tribe. On the Myers-Briggs he is a TJ. His head rules his heart and he likes plans, routines, habit, closure. He does what is comfortable for him and perfects it until it is a work of art. For that, as my fellow INTJ said after the movie, he is portrayed as a “lonely loser.”

Really! The teary emotional appeal for marriage and children from his 23-year-old protégé Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick) made me want to slap her. Honey, do you really believe that married life means your husband will lovingly cradle you to sleep every night? And why is the only path to human fulfillment to procreate? (I’m thinking of you too, Children of Men.)

I want a sequel to this movie. I want Ryan Bingham to take his impulsive trip and throw his away the security of his routines and suffer horribly and comically the consequences of not being true to himself in order to please others. After all when Icarus fell, he died.

You would think Ryan Bingham had learned his lesson. The only impulsive thing he does in the movie ends in disaster. He breaks the rules and steps over the boundary, foundering and fumbling, not even remembering to sign out his rental car correctly. Was he happier as a result? No. He destroyed the thing that brought him most joy. And yet this is the moment of his epiphany. Now he’s repented the sterility of his own life and will try to be like them. Sure we’re are all intrigued by otherness. We should be respect it rather than to convert people, as Jason Reitman does. He seems to believe that everyone should be just like him.

The black stuff on the shoreline is not algae or seaweed. It’s masses of alkali flies. When you walk near them clouds of them rise. Luckily they’re not biting flies and don’t show the least bit interest in humans.

Green rabbitbrush, Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus–I think.

AJM has always wanted to visit Yosemite. We thought we’d go one of the summers when SAM came down but we camped at Lake Tahoe and boated through the Grand Canyon instead and haven’t organized anything since.

With summer almost over we realized we should make an effort to go somewhere this year so we dragged up the old idea of visiting Yosemite and planned our trip. During our research, AJM read about hiking Half Dome, and I agreed to try it. Sure, why not? So what if I don’t run 20 miles a week like he does and he’s uncomfortable with heights. Should we be concerned that the first question on the Half Dome hike FAQ is “How many people have died on Half Dome?” We read the Survival Tips and prepared. My idea of a vacation has rarely included working on on a Stairmaster in the weeks before, but there you go.

We leave my parents’ house in Las Vegas at 4:30, drive through Death Valley at sunrise, turn off at Tioga Pass at 12:40, and arrive at Yosemite Valley at 15:16. We stop to take photos from the lookout next to the tunnel.

Looking east through Yosemite Valley, El Capitan is on the left and Half Dome is in the distant center. The air is warm and dry but scented with pine and the smell of recent forest fires. We drive on to the Wawona Hotel, keeping track of how long it takes. AJM plans to start the 16-mile hike at 6AM as I’ve announced my intention to stop frequently to rest and enjoy the views, not just trudge along.

Our iPhone alarms go off at 4:45. We grab a cup of coffee to go in the hotel lobby and leave by 5:20. The narrow roads and hairpin curves keep us under 35 mph. We arrive at the trailhead parking lot at 6:10. There is very little traffic; we see a ringtail and a coyote crossing the road. I take two ibuprofen and we each drink a can of Red Bull for extra caffeine. In addition to wearing Camelbaks, we carry bottles of water and Gatorade, two Powerbars each and trail mix. We put the remains of our breakfast sandwiches in the bear-proof lockers and start off at 6:20. It’s still dark. The trail is paved with Tarmac. At 6:44, we reach the sign listing all our destinations (4035 feet). From this point, Half Dome is 8.2 miles (11.3 km) and a 4801 foot ascent away.

The first stairs up the side of Vernal Fall. I prefer stairs to just a steep incline. This is the “Mist Trail”. I’ve seen photos of it in the spring when the falls are all gorged and the entire valley covered in mist and rainbows. In late September, it was quite dry.

One of the advantages of having the camera is that I can sneak rest stops in disguised as photo ops. Very vernal! The camera is still complaining that it’s too dark to take a photo without a tripod, though. So we climb onward and upward.

7:41. Looking down from the top of Vernal Fall (5200 feet) over the path we’ve come so far, only 1.5 miles (2.4 km) in an hour and a half. But we’ve finished the first of three step stair ascents and we cover the ground to Nevada Fall more quickly.

At 8:28 we stop at the bottom of Nevada Fall to eat PowerBars for breakfast. We’re surprised when AJM’s iPhone ring. We haven’t had cellphone coverage at the hotel. It perverts the “wilderness experience” and he turns it off.

We haven’t seen a lot of other hikers on the trail until this point but climbing up the rock-hewn stairs next to Nevada Fall, clumps of people suddenly congregate. People who started the hike later are zooming past us. We reach the top (5980 feet) by 8:52. The second set of stairs down and we’ve gone 3.4 miles, almost halfway. Unfortunately the bathroom at the top is still closed.

We are now up in Little Yosemite Valley. The walk is comparatively flat for a mile or so. When we turn off before the campground, we’ve ascended only 120 feet. Another 6/10ths of a mile brings us up another 40 feet. However, the next mile and a half is unpleasant. The path on the map gets very wiggly (meaning lots of switchbacks and a steep ascent) as we reenter the trees. Despite keeping hydrated, caffeinated, and sugared, I’m beginning to see spots before my eyes. I really don’t want to get a migraine right now. So I lie down and put my feet up on a rock. I eat some trail mix and feel better. The trail becomes less steep. We reach the turnoff point. We’re now at 7020 feet with only two miles to go.

11:10. Only a mile to go now and we come out of the trees. I rush to the edge with the camera to take in the view. This is the point where AJM discovers that he is not entirely comfortable with heights.

We can see Half Dome but we aren’t sure of the path from here. I don’t know where we’re going exactly and it’s just as well. I can’t see the people climbing up the side. But the camera can.

If my eyes could zoom in like my camera’s, this is what I would have seen. The little dots to the left of the yellow line are people.

11:35. After another rest on the flat wooded saddleback below Sub-dome, I pose by the sign warning “DANGEROUS. Serious Injury and Death. During and after lightning and rain storms. Evaluate the weather before proceeding past this point.” The sky is deep blue and cloudless so we proceed.

However, this is where I almost give up. I’m already tired and short of breath. These stairs are much steeper than the other two. I’m afraid of slipping and falling backwards. I don’t feel that my footing is secure and my pack throws my balance off. Although my shoes have a good grip on the granite, there is lots of granite sand which makes me slip and slide. I clamber up these steep steps on my hands and feet. I’m not the only one.

Then the steps run out. I rest until my head is clear before I tackle this bit. I don’t realize it is the last 20 feet or so before we reach the top of Sub-dome. I don’t even see the people climbing the cables on Half Dome. My focus is on my hands and feet and keeping them on solid ground.

And then suddenly we’re at the top of Sub-dome.

12:16. We’ve made it to the cables. It’s taken almost exactly 6 hours. AJM takes one look at them and says, “I’m not going up there.” Given that I was never keen on the idea, I don’t spend any time trying to talk him into it. We sit here for for about an hour, watching people ascending and descending and talking to several people who are trying to talk themselves and us into doing it. They do. We don’t. We accept our limitations and live to tell the tale.

After we’ve eaten and rested and my head feels clear again, I walk across the saddleback to the cables to test myself. I climb up to the third rung. If I ever intend to climb them someday, I will have to have stronger gloves, stronger wrists, and stronger shoulders.

If you slip off the cables, this is the fall.

13:00. We begin the descent from Sub-dome. I’m glad AJM bought good walking poles. He carried them both on the way up but I appropriated one for the way down. We are almost three time higher than we were at Crinkle Crags when I thought I was at the top of the world.

From Little Yosemite Valley neither Half Dome or Sub-dome looks that steep.

15:50. Merced River. Little Yosemite Valley. Above Nevada Fall near the campground looking towards Liberty Cap. The entire hike I’ve been dreaming about soaking my feet in these icy waters. It feels just as wonderful as I imagined. We’ve been hiking down almost three hours and we’re not quite half way down. We are not going any faster on the descent. It’s not as breathless so we don’t have to rest as often but it is very jarring on ankles, knees, and hips so we are walking gingerly. I’m glad for my good boots and AJM’s Moleskin blister kit and the walking poles.

Liberty Cap. Elevation: 7076 feet. Next to Nevada Fall. I took its picture in the morning, too, but the light is much better now in the afternoon. We go out to the railing next to Nevada Fall and watch it plummet over the cliff. We are descending the longer way down to avoid the stairs at Nevada and Vernal Falls.

Half Dome, Mt Broderick, Liberty Cap. The light is so wonderful I keep stopping for photos. Since we left the top of Nevada Fall we haven’t seen anyone. We are descending slowly and wonder if we will make it before dark. We see evidence of horses and wonder who’d be crazy enough to ride horses up this steep path. I barely trust my own two feet. About halfway down we meet another couple, father and daughter. He is worried about getting down before sunset; she has hurt her knee. We have a head lamp and two flashlights and invite them to walk with us. AJM lends her his walking pole. With company and conversation, the time passes quickly.

And then we are Vernal Falls Bridge. Only .8 of a mile to the start of the trail and another .5 mile to our car. We arrive at the car at 19:15, 13 hours after we started. It’s dark.

When we leave Yosemite a couple of days later we make a detour to Glacier Point. From there we can see almost our entire Half Dome hike before us: the two falls, the curve around Liberty Cap, the flat bit in Little Yosemite Valley and the curve of Sub-dome where we stopped. Through a telescope we see people and cairns at the top of Half Dome. I don’t regret that we made the hike and didn’t make it to the top. I’d do it again. The journey was more important than the destination.

07:13. We arrive at the pay station (and very smelly restroom) into Death Valley National Park. Zabriskie Point is about ten miles away.

Zabriskie Point

07:28. We’ve seen a single car which went past us while we were stopped at the pay station. Suddenly on our left there is a parking lot filled with cars. I see the sign, Zabriskie Point, and remembering the name of the movie suggest we stop to see what’s caught everyone else’s attention.

Devil’s Cornfield

08:08. We drive through Furnace Creek, descending below sea level. Now we are climbing again, looking at salt flats when suddenly we see what appears to be rows and rows of corn shocks. It’s the Devil’s Cornfield. Actually it’s clumps of arrowweed, Pluchea sericea. In some places, erosion had swept all the dirt away exposing the roots so that each clump appeared to be growing on its own little island.

08:35. We’ve ascended to 4000 feet above sea level. Signs warn us not to turn on our car’s air-conditioning causing it to overheat. Even this early in the morning in late September, it’s hot enough to feel uncomfortable. We see a lone bicyclist. I think he’s very foolish to be out alone in this environment.

The road gets narrower, steeper, and curvier. The views are stupendous but there isn’t convenient place to stop and take a photo until we reach Padre Crowley Point.

09:19. It’s taken us two hours to drive through Death Valley.

Mount Whitney

09:47. Heading towards Lone Pine with Mount Whitney rising behind it. We stop for here for breakfast. The town has a very Twin Peaks feel and that colors my expectations. I’m expecting rich coffee and a dreamy slice of homemade cherry pie. I’m very, very disappointed.

My Christmas decorations tend toward the eclectic. I’ve always collected old-fashioned toys and when I lived in Japan, I hunted down folk toys wherever I went. These three cows/oxen are actually clay bells, literally cow bells but not what we think of when we use the term.

This year, for the first time, I put them in the nativity creche that my father carved for me. How appropriate, then, to discover that 2009 is the year of the ox.

Movie meme from Incandragon. My problem is that I can never choose just one–just listing some of these movies makes me want to go back and watch them again.

1. Name a movie that you have seen more than 10 times:
The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Zardoz, My Brilliant Career, Back to the Future, After Life, Tonari no Totoro , Star Wars. Aliens. The Abyss. The Piano. If I like a movie, I watch it over and over and try to get my friends to share my joy of it. (And because of AJM: The Godfather and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.)

2. Name a movie that you’ve seen multiple times in a theater:
The Rocky Horror Picture Show (25). Zardoz (13). My Brilliant Career (11). Gone with the Wind (?). Wings of Desire. Walkabout. Bladerunner. 2001: A Space Odyssey. Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Most recently, Master and Commander.

3. Name an actor who would make you more inclined to see a movie:
George C. Scott. Clive Owen. Edward Norton. Gregory Peck. Jeremy Irons. Richard Armitage. John Cusack. Katherine Hepburn. Audrey Hepburn. Charlotte Rampling. Helen Mirren. (But I’m attracted to movies by directors I like more than by actors I like.)

4. Name an actor who would make you less likely to see a movie:
Brad Pitt. Sylvester Stallone. Nicolas Cage. Christian Slater. Will Ferrell (although I loved ‘Stranger than Fiction’). Russell Crowe (although I loved “Master and Commander”).

5. Name a movie that you can quote from:
My Brilliant Career. The Piano. Cabaret. Anne of Green Gables. The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

6. Name a movie musical that you know all the lyrics to all the songs:
None…I’m not good with remembering song lyrics or people’s faces.

7. Name a movie that you have been known to sing along with:
The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Cabaret. Singin’ in the Rain. The Sound of Music. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.

8. Name a movie that you would recommend everyone see:
After Life. My Neighbor Totoro. National Velvet. The Twilight Samurai. The Great Escape. Tampopo. The Secret of Roan Innish. Stranger than Fiction. The Incredibles. Singin’ in the Rain. Roman Holiday. The Miracle Worker. M. Hulot’s Holiday. Rivers and Tides.

9. Name a movie that you own:
The Twilight Samurai.

10. Name an actor that launched his/her career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops:
?

11. Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in?:
Yes. All five Planet of the Apes movie in a row.

12. Ever made out in a movie theater?
No.

13. Name a movie that you keep meaning to see but just haven’t gotten around to it:
?

14. Ever walked out of a movie?:
No. That would violate my contract with the director. But I don’t usually go to a movie without a specific desire to see it. However, there have been movies we rented that we turned off after about ten minutes: “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”, “Anchorman”.

15. Name a movie that made you cry in the theatre:
Probably easier to name movies that I didn’t cry at.

16. Popcorn?:
No. Not eating at the theater means more money to see more movies.

17. How often do you go to the movies?:
When it was me and the boy, we used to go every other week. Now I’m lucky if I go four or five times a year. AJM is not a movie buff.

18. What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?:
Let the right one in

19. What is your favorite/preferred genre of movie?:
Psychological. Character-driven and dialog-rich (whether drama, comedy, sci-fi, suspense). Don’t like gratuitous CGI, gratuitous action, gratuitous gore…well anything that’s just there from the marketing department.

20. What was the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?
I don’t remember exactly…possibly “The King and I” or “The Greatest Story Ever Told” both when I was 5 or 6. I must have also seen Walt Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty” and “Lady and the Tramp” quite young but I don’t remember the movie…just the companion toys. Being a large family, my parents rarely took us out as a gang. However, I remember very distinctly my father taking me to two movies where it just the two of us–very, very special occasions: “How to Murder Your Wife” when I was 8 and “Patton” for my 13th birthday. (He apologized for the salty language.) Three other movies that made a big impression on me as a child were “The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad” (which they showed in school when I was 7) and “The Miracle Worker” and “The Time Machine” which I saw about the same age on TV.

21. What film are you waiting to see next year.
No anticipation.

I’ve learned to be patient. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve learned to trust myself. My Need-for-closure Self (the J-type) has learned to let my intuitive self (the N-type) do her job. Intuitive Self knows that with enough pieces, the puzzle will come together; she’ll be able to connect the dots, to see the patterns. Need-for-closure Self has to suspend her need to know the parameters and constraints before starting out. She has to fly blind for a little bit, until Intuitive Self gets the lay of the land. This makes Need-for-closure Self nervous. She wants to give up before she begins. She wants to remain in well-charted territories. She likes to be on firm footing.

So I’ve been slogging. Just putting one foot in front of the other, not understanding what I was seeing, not knowing where I was going. Just keep going, keep going. Something will click and then it will make sense. And suddenly it does. I see the world with new eyes. It feels just like this.

A Note About The Miracle Worker: I saw this movie when I was very young, perhaps 7 or 8 years old and it had an incredible impact on my psyche, especially because my older brother was mentally retarded. I knew wanted to be a teacher, someone who could unlock the mysteries of the world to others. It is a very dark film, especially in the scenes showing Anne Sullivan’s childhood. Do children today watch “serious” films or are they restricted to a children’s ghetto of slapstick humor and animation?

Dateline: July 31, 2002

As July 31st rolls over to August 1st, my life tends to change direction completely. In 1989, just as I was feeling a sense of comfort and achievement in my relatively new career writing software documentation, I packed everything I owned into a 5×10 foot storage shed, sold my car, and started a new life in Japan, bringing only two large suitcases and my 10-year-old son.

In 1991, I reversed the process. But on my return to the US I had no job prospects, and found that it was more difficult than I had imagined to reestablish my identitify with potential employers, car insurance companies, and banks.

In 1993, I gave up independent contracting and returned to life as a full-time employee to enjoy the comraderie of teamwork and the benefits of medical insurance.

In 1998, JQS moved into the condo that today he is vacating.

In 2001, the patterns and habits of eight years dissolved and I had to create new ones.

Today, exactly a year later, I feel as if the cards in my life’s deck are being reshuffled and redealt. A new life begins for me tomorrow. And although it is what I’ve always wanted, I’ve learned to be wary of getting exactly what I wish for. Fulfilled desires often bring unexpected consequences. As I cross the line, will I arrive at the point of no return?

Dateline: July 31, 2008

Six years have passed and I thought the wheel of my fortune had rusted to a stop from disuse. Slowly, creakily, it begins to turn again. This time I embrace change unreservedly.

Rereading the original entry, I remember another year that fits this pattern: 1975. My father retired from the USAF and we moved back to Las Vegas from Killeen. I discovered that I was stuck between lives and could move neither forward nor back. So I took the diagonal. Are all detours simply tangents? In taking the detour, doesn’t it becomes part of the pathway through our life?

The objects of the present remind me of objects in the past. As such, they take on a depth unseen by other people. Every object has two natures. An object is simultaneously itself and a symbol of something else, an association made by the person perceiving the object.

If I expand the concept to include events as well as objects in this discussion, then it explains why I often experience the world on multiple levels. I experience the past and present simultaneously. The past intrudes verbally as an echo or visually as ghost image. These shadows of the past provide dimension, give a greater depth to experience than when I perceive it on the singular plane of the present.

Does my layered worldview create multiplicity and fragmentation? No. What it does is provide a connection with the past so that I am more whole. The scope of my experience is not just the present moment but a larger moment, where the past, present, and future are interwoven.

If you are sensual, then you might experience this echo on many different levels. The moisture in the air, the smell of the cedar smoke, the dampness of the fog against your cheek, the texture of a lover’s hair, all recall certain memories and allow them to mingle with the present.

In modern life, sadly, we are out of touch with our natural cycles. We keep clock time and live in artificial environments. I think this is why we feel cut off from things, although we don’t know exactly what we are cut off from. We search for a tradition that will restore our sense of connectedness. We cultivate habits to create our comfort zone. We look inside ourselves and develop our own lexicon of symbols.

Perception is a strange word because it means both observation and the translation of observation into useful conclusion. In the first sense I am perceptive. I notice things, everything.

A mesmerizing clock from Yugo Nakamura, of Business Architects, a leading web design firm in Japan: Industrious 2001.