Letting the destination come to you

This weekend Shelley and I had the chance to breakaway from the heat of Phoenix and spend some time in Bisbee, an old ghost town in the high foothills of southeast Arizona. It was once a thriving mining community, reportedly the largest city between San Francisco and St Louis at the turn of the century. Once the mines played out it was abandoned. But like many of the abandoned mining communities, it was later claimed by the counter culture. These hairy hippies, with the help of some enterprising historians, have turned Bisbee, and a few other ghost towns in the state, into quaint artistic, cultural, and historical places to visit.
We pulled in around 7:30pm. A intense thunderstorm and car wreck delayed our arrival by an hour. We chose to stay in a bed and breakfast, one time mansion of some big wig at Phelps Dodge. It was pretty dark so we spent our evening in the well lit part of the old down town. After an nouveau italian dinner, something you'd expect in Park City or Sedona, we retired to our quiet place. Without TV we had to rely on, ghast, conversation and old back issues of "Arizona Highways" to pass the time.
Our morning was somewhat rushed. After a great Eggs Benedict breakfast Shelley's back started to act up. Our six hour itinerary turned into 45 minutes of browsing through shops on main street. We were soon on the road again, a scant 12 hours after arriving. While the visit was worthwhile, we didn't even stratch the surface of this place. Moving onto the opening statement that inspired this entry.

I'm guilty of "checklist traveling". I visit destinations merely for the joy of saying I've been there, another sticker to put on the bumper. I'm afraid that many other people our guilty of this practice. We pull over at the side of the road and take the 15 minute tour and all of the sudden we are experts of whatever place we are visiting and we get in the car and move to the next place. We all need to take a deep breath and let the trip come to us. There are myriad things to do in Bisbee, simple things that require alittle effort. Like most places, you can't truly visit Bisbee from the back seat of a car. You need to take a hike to view some of the rare bird species. You need to spend a couple of hours at a local cafe to observe the ecclectic and eccentric locals.
This trip we weren't able to do that. We saw enough of Bisbee to know that this is a place that we want to truly explore. Next time, when Shelley isn't 7 1/2 months pregnant, we will spend a few days and patiently let Bisbee come to us. That way we will have truly felt its charm.

The Quiet Peace of Assurance

This weekend I was able to procure employment that will truly take care of the needs of the family and allow Shelley the freedom to decide what she wants to do, careerwise, without the financial pressure of our needs. It truly is a good feeling.

I have roughly two weeks before I begin. That gives me two weeks to wrap up my project work, take care of house related errands, and truly enjoy the quiet of the neighborhood. While I have been working from home for the last 3 months, I don't think I had truly been able to enjoy or take advantage of my free time. Most of the time my idle or free thoughts were filled with anxiety and the job search. I could never truly enjoy simple pleasures because I was always wondering if there was something else I should be doing in my job search. I suppose my faith wasn't as strong as it could have been.

In contrast, the next few weeks will provide alot more freedom and opportunity. With my longer term prospects secure I can truly focus on other activities. I will spend some time this afternoon to learn how my camera works without being worried about how my resume looks. I expect to get alot done in this time and I only wish I had alittle more time.

The Randomizer (Series II, Volume I)

- Last night we attended the Maroon 5 concert at the Cricket Pavillion. Evidently we are too old to like them. If I didn't know any better I would have thought we had mistakenly gone to a Back Street Boys show. There were scantilly clad 15 year old girls for as far as the eye could behold. It was as if every "O.C." watching girl in the valley was called for a meeting. I have to admit that all of the screaming and perfume tainted my image of the band. They are, however, pretty talented and they put on a good show.

- A thought related to the concert. I've observed that better musicians put on a far superior show. A very straightforward but true observation. There is no studio magic to hide behind, just your skills as musician. (An assumption that can easily be refuted given todays technological possibilities) Good bands are able to really expand and recreate their songs and give them new life while performed live. Other mediocre performers, Third Eye Blind comes to mind, are limited in the way that they can present their material. As a result, the live performance is lacking. By the way, I was pleasantly suprised by one of the opening acts. They are called the Thrills and are from Dublin. I will give them a look.

Every troop has got one

One of my more enjoyable church callings is as a "scout volunteer". The calling was issued to help our fledgling troop and allow some of the younger married men in the ward to get out with the scouts. It's a great calling. We don't have to deal with most of the hellish work that occurs between trips, we just show up and provide support on selected camping trips. So far I have cherry picked upcoming trips to Southern Arizona and the Mogollan Rim.

Last week we (the leaders) went up to a local lake (Bartlett Lake) for an over night leadership training camp. The area captured the rare desert beauty that is native to Arizona. A small but clear lake encapsulated by rugged saguro covered hills. Anyways, the trip was enjoyable. We had great meals. We had skits. (The same ones that we all grew up with) We had meetings about the importance of our calling. And we hung out and talked.

It is in these informal conversations around the campfire that certain and more true personalities among friends are uncovered. This is a chance to really get to know your friends who you typically only see on Sundays. I left the trip with a several stronger friendships. I also left the trip having been mildly annoyed by a couple of people. Strangely enough their personality seems to be commonplace with all of the troops I have been associated with. Allow me to describe them.

They are the grisled middle aged men who most likely have served in the military. They have a strong sense of patriotism and all of the virtues espoused by the scouting program. They see scouts as the only true vehicle for which boys can become men. All of these characteristics are very laudable and are not the subject of my criticism. But these men have one consistent characteristic that annoy me. They never stop telling stories. We must have spent 3-4 hours of our 13 hour camp out listening to our military guys tell us about the time when they were "stranded in the Cascades during a training exercise and all they had was a pocket knife" or the time they "took the young kids on a snipe hunt" or "the joke they played on the new colonel at the shooting range" or "the time that one obstinate lughead Johnson boy finally became a man durng the big flood on the Grand Canyon trip". The stories will never end. They all come with a built in lesson.

Since I was the new guy it seemed like most of the stories were directed at me. I did my best to feign interest while formulating an exit strategy. I went to bed early just so I didn't have to hear one more story about the awesome power of the Black Hawk helicopter. If anything this trip taught me who I should avoid on future campouts.

All in all it was great to get out of the city. This has been something I've wanted to do for quite some time. I will just be a tad more careful about who I set my tent next to on future trips.