Collectivism Vs. Freedom (a story)

Long, greasy and matted hair, he walks through the door. His leather jacket hangs open exposing a tired t-shirt of a death metal band that no one else remembers. Hands of concrete and sandpaper speak of a life un-pampered, un-cared for. Black jeans with holes and tears caused by age, by conflict, by pain– they are reminiscent of the jeans that have been so popular in the past several years. The ones that are falsely torn, worn and aged by machines rather than life. Velcro shoes leaning to the side with every step, it is apparent he hasn’t visited a shoe shop in some time. The concrete hand reaches out slowly, with a tremor, “They call me ‘Dallas,’ but my Christian name is Larry,” he says with a thick and recognizable accent that carries a bit of a slur.

“Dallas” (a fictitious name) is in his fifties but could pass for much older. He carries himself with a slow determination that speaks of a man who once had great confidence. Through the next hours he recounts his existence on this earth. Broken family, loneliness, thousands of needles. For many years now he has been selling heroin to support his habit. He shoots three times a day, just to stay well. He has a depth in his eyes that screams regret. Both for himself and those he has hurt. He talks about the feeling of desperation he gets when he has run out. He recounts a life that has revolved, for over twenty years, around one thing: heroin. He says, with an eerie calmness, “I’ve had to hurt a lot of people to get well.” He’s not exactly the portrait of a repentant soul, but as the hours click by a depth of honesty, of love, of humanity begins to come out of him. It seems many years have passed since anyone saw this part of him. Quickly the conversation changes as his face contorts slightly. He quickly inhales and holds that breath. Leaning forward in his thick, slurred, street stained voice and says, “Help me, I’m going to die.”

Through the next several months he is in and out of hospitals, emergency detox centers, residential rehabilitation and methadone clinics. He comes by frequently for updates and check-ins and he slowly becomes, again, the person he so nearly lost. The person who cares, who loves, who has grace for his enemies. He becomes, again, a man who is free to act in compassion and love. His recovery brought about his retirement as a dealer. His impact on the community went from extraordinarily negative to inconsequential at worst and positive at best. Though the ripples of his retirement are not easily measured, their exponential potential is a source of great hope.

“Dallas’s” recovery was his own. He fought for his recovery. But the the collective community, the common good is what made his recovery sustainable, possible, permanent.  The programs he accessed and the funds he received to help him get clean and sober were supplied by tax dollars. The salary of his counselors were paid for by tax dollars. The buildings he received treatment in were paid for by tax dollars. The roads he used to get to those treatment centers were built with tax dollars.

The collectivist idea that we are responsible for the poor, the addicted, the oppressed, the homeless and the sick is what made this man’s recovery possible. It’s what brought him freedom and in that freedom he was given a second chance to do right, to stop dealing, to stop hurting his community. With the grace that was extended to him, he turned and extended and multiplied that grace in his own community. With nearly a year clean and sober “Dallas’s” life represents true freedom. Politicians and pundits espouse the belief that “freedom” is capitalism, trickle down economics and low or no taxation of the wealthy. That’s not freedom, it’s blindness to justice, to equality and to community. It’s simply greed, masquerading as freedom.

Collectivism=Freedom.

Disclaimer: Names, dates and geography may have been changed to protect privacy and confidentiality.

West…The End

We are home. Officially. Though I suppose I use the word somewhat loosely. I feel like I should update you on how the trip concluded. So I will.

We went to Joey and Derek’s house. For those who don’t know “Joey” is my sister Rebecca, I think she looks like Joey from Dawson’s Creek…well I did when she was 17. Quit judging me. Anyhow, I posted about Joey’s earlier but I haven’t had a chance to put up my own pictures from day. The last pictures were Joey’s…which is why I was in some of them, obviously.

Ok, here are Joey and Derek. They’re very clever I suppose.

Or at least they’re cute.

Here’s some pictures of the kids at the beach and at the house.

Pretty cute kids, eh? Yeah, you should talk to them. They are stinking HILARIOUS. Vita says these really complex jokes and usually they are somewhat abstract and violent. I know it’s not right, but I really want to encourage her. She has a dark gift, I think.

We went from Wisconsin to Indy and stayed the night at Kristin and Mike’s and saw their 47 children again. Then, for whatever reason, Kristin and the 47 kids followed us to Westerville.

Jaala and Jordan:

There’s something terribly wrong with my mom:

Josh always has a positive, can-do attitude:

Kieran is still kicking:

Notice the band aid and scars. I freaking love this kid:

I believe Carmen is posing as a shark:

My Aunt Laura, Ellen and Mom are facinated by Andre’s toes.

My sister and I are sometimes just too much to handle. We had to turn up the A/C. Word?

It’s so good to see nearly everyone in my family right before I am going to move farther away. I’m really glad we got back today so that we could do this.

So that is the whole trip. I feel like the end of this part of the journey was a little anti-climactic. Part of the reason for the anti-climax might be that I keep falling asleep while typing this…who knows. It’s been good having you all along on the trip.

Next I’m packing up my life in smaller possessions, getting rid of the larger ones, and heading for New Orleans. I will continue to update, but probably much less frequently. I hope that we were able to provide some humor or at least put a faint grin on your faces. It’s been real.

On to The Big Cheese

On Saturday night we stayed in Moorhead, as previously posted, and had the worst Mexican food ever. We got up at the crack of 8:30 and took off for Wisconsin to see Joey and the kids. It was a long drive. I drove most of the day which I don’t mind because I’m a power-hungry-egomaniac. The drive was uneventful, but with the promise of a hot meal at Joey’s house, we pressed on at a remarkable clip.

Anyhow, we got to Joey and Derek’s humble hollywood style Wisconsin oasis around 6:09pm and dinner was delicious. We watched “Why Did I Get Married?” Don’t watch this movie. It’s awful. Ok, not awful, there’s just alot of bad acting and crying. We also went to Starbucks. It was really nice to be in civilization again…as much as Fond Du Lac counts as “civilization.” Anyhow, I got very little sleep, but it was good sleep and we woke up today to go to lake Michigan.

Vita, Manny and I constructed a pond of sorts on the beach:

It was alot of fun. I think my pasty white skin might have gotten some color too. Even if it’s red.

We came home, had lunch, ate rootbeard floats and are now sitting in front of the TV writing this here blog.

That is all.

The other Badlands

I took the day off yesterday and left you at the mercy of the old man. Sorry about that. Here’s a brief update on the day yesterday,

We took off not-so-early at 8:30am or so. I got very little sleep due to an uncomfortable bed and the itch of a migraine in the back of my head. When we finally got moving my head was pounding. Naturally I was pretty unpleasant–because it was morning–but with the added head pain, I was pretty unlovable. We got some coffee and hit the road. We were headed for Roosevelt National Park, otherwise known as the North Dakota Badlands. I drove the whole way. Headphones on most of the time, absolutely jamming out to The Amazing Road Trip CD 1. It’s on sale at the local stop-n-shop. No, it isn’t, don’t go wasting your gas looking for it. You can’t have it.

Anyhow, we were cruising through Montana on highway 2 and it occurred to me that Travel Magazine might have been wrong. US 2 through Northern Montana is sort of like the sunset. It’s not something that can or should be described. I feel this way about most of the Canadian Rockies as well. Even the greatest of poets would struggle to define that part of the world. You see that even now I’m jumping around the issue because I am not, afterall, a poet. Look, you’ve seen some of the pictures, so all you really need to know is that they don’t do it justice.

Ok, so we took US 2 over to13 and down to the Teddy Roosevelt National Park (104miles without a gas station). Here’s a picture of the Badlands.

Nevermind, this is on the way into the park, with a massive headache, does this guy look like he just killed a man or what? Maybe I did. Maybe that’s where the bodies are Kim, who knows.

Look at this studly man.

Or how about these two.

And check out these feet. What’s up with the feet anyhow. This guy has issues.

After we finished up there we realized that there is nothing east of Roosevelt that we wanted to see. I then came up with the ingenious idea that we should try to put down 6-7 hour of driving so we could make it to Joey’s house on Sunday night. See Joey works on Tuesday, so we were going to delay our arrival until Tues night, but she has no work on Monday and we have no where to go really, so we decided to pick em up and lay em down. Right. We stayed the night in Moorhead, Minnesota in a nasty, but 45 dollar per night, hotel. It was damp, smelled funny and now I have an itch, but still beautiful. We ate Panchero’s Mexican something-or-other for dinner. When we walked up to the door I observed only white people working. Now one thing you have to understand about any type of Mexican food, or frankly any non-American food, is that it’s all about the seasoning. For what ever reason an anomaly exists that dictates “no white man can properly season Mexican food.” For this reason I refuse to eat at Chipotle if there are only white people working. Now I know, this is a sensitive issue that relies primarily on stereotypes, but if you are honest with yourself you will see that I might just be right. Anyhow, we went in and bought food against our better judgment and it was fine, but it was not right. It was fake Chipotle with a distinctly Caucasian flare. I was bummed. It was expensive. Chipotle would weep at how bad of a knock-off this place really was.

Anyhow, we had fantastic cell service, which was great finally and I slept really well after the wheezing guy beside me stopped rumbling the room. Too harsh. Sorry Dad.

Anyhow, we got up this morning and are now back on the road, 294 miles form Joey’s house and moving at 65mph. We’ll arrive in 5.5 hours. I will attempt another update tonight with pictures of the kids! I’m so excited to see them. Anyhow, adios.

A post from “the old man”

Our northwestern photostudy vacation is drawing to a close and I finally get my own post. I have spent this entire vacation in a support position performing logistical and organizational tasks along with financial support. However, my most important role was as photographer to the mighty photoblogster, Rob (also known as ‘boy’).

Camera set-up is a major part of our day.

Although Rob is really the center of attention, the scenery occasionally gets in the way.

Another large part of our time is spent in checking some of the 500 images that Rob takes on a daily basis. I think the theory is that if you take enough pictures, a few are bound to look good.

Personally, I think he is making up all of that stuff about F-stops and HDR. Who ever heard of fill flash or graduated neutral density filters anyway? I told him he should just stick with a point-and-shoot camera… KIDS…

Honestly, this has been fun and a learning experience too. Time hiking in the mountains, up to a lake, or to see a waterfall is well spent. Hours on the highways and back roads of America are an investment in the lives of one another. We have seen many wonderful sights in the US and some breathtaking scenery in the Canadian Rockies. Everywhere we look, we see the hand of God and His invisible qualities. As Paul wrote, “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities-his eternal power and divine nature-have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse” (Romans 1:20).

Thanks for indulging me.

The ‘old’ man.

Another short day on an iceberg

We survived the night last night, but barely. There was a 40mph wind most of the night and the rain was pouring almost all night. We stayed dry in our beds, but the tent was pretty wet when we got up. There was as small lake below us. It was about 40 degrees when we got up this morning and the wind was still blowing pretty steady. It was the roughest night in a tent so far. We got moving slowly and we did not get out of the campground until about 9:30am. It was a two coffee morning which means my stomach hurt a bit today. The coffee was good, but we spent $9.50 for 4 cups of non-coffee house coffee and that seems a bit ridiculous. Anyhow, we went out to East Glacier this morning to hike and find a waterfall. We chose St. Mary’s Waterfall which is on the St. Mary River. Anyhow, these are shots of the valley before we went up the mountain:

Artsy huh?

Anyhow, we took off up the mountain and made a couple stops…because I couldn’t help myself. Glacier is thebombDOTcom. Here’s one of the stops.

Then I needed a nice place to recline so I sat in this rock crevasse that was perfect for reclining:

Here’s another of the stop, it had some pretty awesome cliffs, which I considered diving off of ever so briefly. I had to de-escalate myself using CIT tactics, reframing and sheer luck.

We got to the trail and took the obligatory group photo:

Look, no mud!:

But the waterfall was very cool. Check it out:

After this we ran up the hill back to the truck. It was a pretty good workout and we were feeling less wimpy than we had the previous several days. I drove the first shift out into the open fields of Montana. I love the trains.

We are staying in a hotel tonight. The first time in 11 days. I was pushing for the tent tonight, but the old man really wussed out. Something about not wanting to blow away. There are 40mph winds. So now we’re sitting in our hotel and getting ready to sleep. I’m looking forward to sleeping in a bed. I don’t have much else to say. Maybe I will have something clever for you in the morning. Goodnight.

Back from the 51st State

July 10

We woke up early today. There was so much rain last night and it pounded on the tent. It was about 40 degrees when we got up and with windchill probably in the mid thirties. We intended to hike around Lake Louise this morning and then head south, but being the complete pansies we are, we instead decided to run up and see the lake real quick because it was raining and then start driving south to warmer weather and cell phone service. I was guaranteed by a certain individual, with whom I am traveling but who shall remain nameless, that there would be cell service in St. Mary Montana. Already defeated, we went to the coffee place, paid five dollars for lousy coffee and ran (literally) through the rain to Lake Louise. It was very overcast

Oh and I forgot, the campground we stayed in had an electric fence around it. Yeah, that’s right, we are so hardcore that we couldn’t risk even the slightest possibility that a bear would kill us so we surrounded ourselves with 20,000 volts of mammoth protection. What now bears? What now?

Anyhow, we headed down the highway towards “the Homeland.” Look at this place, seriously, it’s the freaking arctic up here:

But seriously, once we left the mountains, it was perfect. Canada really is a pretty nice country…even the French parts.

Who is that stud?:

Finally back in the country I find out that a certain someone lied about cell phone service at St. Mary, Montana. We aren’t speaking currently due to this fib and it makes dinner preparation a bit more difficult. Anyhow, here is our site for the night. You can’t see the wind, obviously, but it is a-blowing. That’s how we do up here on the range.

As we started cooking dinner, the storm clouds rolled in and we are now having a pretty ridiculous storm. I’m sitting in the truck right now, it’s late and I’m working on the blog. The rain is pouring, its pitch black outside, I have to pee and the internet is slower than billy. I’m off to bed, this will get posted tomorrow.

The 51st state, A journey through Canadia

July 9

Today we woke up at 7:15am and pretty much immediately got in the truck and drove to town to get coffee. We have no electric here so we can’t make it ourselves. We found a coffee place and bought 16oz coffees for 2.50 each and they weren’t very good. Where is Starbucks around here anyhow? There’s a market here, I’m surprised they don’t see that. After coffee we determined that we must return to Moraine Lake and take more pictures….ok, I decided that. WE decided to hike to Consolation Lakes. It was about an 6 mile round trip hike with additions. Here is s shot of Moraine Lake in the early morning. No need for HDR, the lighting was incredible:

Wait…just kidding…check out this guy, is he ready to hike or what?

Here’s the shot of Lake Moraine:

And another:

After Lake Moraine we took off up to Consolation Lakes. This hike was long. I was recording another end-of-life video on the way up because I kept harassing my dad and I thought there was a decent chance we would try to murder me on the hike.

Finally we arrived at Consolation Lake:

And we took another group photo. What you don’t know is that we are both laughing because I just fell in the water while running to get in place for the group shot. It was freezing.

And we saw a Badger:

…what? You don’t see anything? Well I never claimed to be a wildlife photographer, but I assure you, he is there and he is pissed.

Anyhow, after we went on this hike we were very tired, mostly because we’re pathetic, but legitimately is was about a 6 mile hike and we spent a lot of time climbing over rocks. The point is, being tired we decided to drive down to Banff and try to get wireless. We took highway 1A which is the most beautiful road on earth according to Travel Magazine. It’s a pretty incredible road. I, however, took no pictures because I was driving. Sorry, I feel like I’ve failed you. You can denounce your loyalty to this blog now if you’d like.

We went to Banff, stole wireless from three different folks and got some lunch. We then returned home and we got a fire permit for the night which was $8.80, I know, big spenders and we started a fire:

Then it started to rain, but someone would not be defeated:

Despite our uncanny resiliency, the rain continued and eventually crushed our spirits. There was a time of silence, gnashing of teeth and then the inevitable crying. I swear, it’s pretty pathetic. Anyhow, we spent the night in a pretty significant rainstorm, huddled in the tent, hoping we would not die. Now, I didn’t ever really think I was going to die because I have a 0 degree sleeping bag. Have I mentioned that before? Thought so, next time-pay attention. Anyhow, I partially mummified myself in the 0 degree sleeping bag and was fine. We did get pretty wet though.

Ok well, that’s all for now.

From British Columbia to THE Lake…Yes, it’s like THE Ohio State University

We left very early today (July 8th) and drove north towards the border. We stayed the night in Kalispell again last night and, as noted previously, got almost no sleep. Look, the campground was nice, about 8 million children, and there was a short drive into Whitefish, but for over 30 bucks a night to camp in a friggen tent, the WiFi should really be much better. Anyhow, we left and headed north. I was in a bad mood so there wasn’t much conversation…some grunting and occasionally tears…right. You know, when I say stuff like that I’m kidding…just in case there was any question. I’m much to manly and have much too little free time to be crying all the time. Wow. Moving on. So, I was driving, not listening to music, just driving. We finally got up to Eureka and there was still no cell phone service. I was counting on cell service. This angered me a bit, but whatever. Anyhow we crossed into Canada and up here all these Canucks have to have all their signs in two languages:

And it is very distracting. What happens is that you start to read the English and because the signs are usually very short (because they have to be in two languages) they don’t make much sense so, naturally, you attempt to read on and find yourself very aggravated because everything is in French. It’s about this time that you realize that you took your eyes off the road 30 seconds ago, there’s a stopped semi in front of you and you crash into a fiery ball of metal and broken dreams. It’s for all of these reasons that I’ve determined the multi-lingual signs are a road hazard and should be abolished. The tyranny and the bull crap has gone on too long. No one likes Quebec anyhow and French is only a cool language because chicks dig it, yes? Right, I thought so. Time to take down the signs, put up plain-English signs that actually explain something useful like: Turn right at Rt124 to get to Lake Louise – or – Watch for Moose Crossing the Road. All good signs. Carrying on…

One more thing about signs-Stay gold Pony Boy:

On the way up the western side of the Rockies we were in British Columbia about 15 miles from the Pacific Time Zone. Anyhow, we follow the Columbia River a little bit and then we hit the Columbia Lake which is the source for the Columbia River. A big part of me wanted to just get in the River and flow south. Anyhow, here’s a shot:

Oh and here’s me by the Columbia Lake, photo Courtesy of the Quantaray T500i, thanks buddy:

We got to the campground shortly after the hitch hikers and we waited in a line of about 15 cars for an hour. They could apparently only move one car every 5 minutes or so. Anyhow, by the time we got up to the front of the line we were a little frustrated, called the kids at the ticket counter a Canuk and were immediately escorted to the finest site in the campground…Apparently Canuk is not a derogatory term… We’d hoped that it was. Anyhow, we set up camp and took off to see Lake Louise. Here’s a shot of the River that comes off Lake Louise:

We finally arrived at the ULTIMATE destination, Lake Louise. I need you to understand that this was huge for me. I have been thinking about seeing this place for nearly 11 months. I looked it up constantly at work and imagined I was there while being pooped on by small children. This place has been slightly built up in my mind…that’s the real point. Here is a first shot of the lake:

I’m going to reserve comment. Ok, I’m not. It’s beautiful, yes, but I was a little underwhelmed and here is why: There are about 3,158 tourists standing next to me while I took this picture. There is nearly 100% cloud cover. The lake is not tourquoise blue but rather swimming pool green. And the list goes on. Now, I was not really disappointed at all…it is still a breathtaking place, just would have been even better if half the people there hadn’t gotten up this morning. Moving on. After leaving Lake Louise we went up to Moraine Lake:

I know, right? This is what I came to see. It was raining, as we learned it often does up here, but the clouds cleared a bit and I decided to shoot in the rain anyhow. This place is thebombDOTcom. Lake Moraine wins the award. It’s 11 km from Lake Louise. No, I don’t know the conversion, and it’s twice as beautiful and secluded. Here is an HDRized version from tonight:

After this we went back to the camp site and I uploaded these photos and worked on this here blog which leads me to now. I think that it’s time I get myself ready and go to bed. I hear the old man snoring behind me. Looks like a long night. Oh, but wait, I have a brand spanking new Mummy sleeping bag that is 0 degree rated. I’m going to be so cozy. Ok, now I’m excited and I can’t sleep.

Until next time.

To the summit and back…Glacier

July 7, No internet, so posted a couple days late.

Two nights spent in Kalispell/Whitefish. We went into Glacier and drove the Going to the Sun Road up to the summit. There was a lot of traffic on the way up because they reduced to one lane in a section and everyone had to take turns. I posted a whole bunch of pictures from the day in a gallery before, which I’ve never done and actually really enjoyed, but they were all without description. You really must know exactly what we did all day to truly appreciate the pictures…not that we did anything fantastic, extraordinary or life changing, but you just need the full story. So here it is.

We woke up.

We rushed to the park to wait in this line:

Until we realized that a nice man was allowing people with park passes to go through on the right and we were able to skip the whole line. Pretty pleased with this accomplishment we entered the park.

This is the first thing I saw:

Needless to say, I figured I would probably like Glacier.

On that note, I have been to Glacier before. But things are much different when you view them from a photographic perspective. This place was meant to be photographed…so I took 523 pictures. That number includes HDR shots though, which are actually 3 in 1. Anyhow, after the lake we set out to climb the mountain (in the truck).

This is what it looked like out my window:

And a shot of the construction

There was a very impressive water fall called old mother goose or something. It was nearly impossible to take a picture of it because the construction people took up all the turn-offs and my dad was driving all goofy footed.

This is another of the valley taken out the window of the car, basically laying backwards on the dash. That reminds me. We haven’t discussed yet today how thankful you should be for me getting these photos for you. I really try to go above and beyond each day. I have literally pulled a neck muscle leaning over to take a picture and for what? For YOU. Anyhow, here’s the valley picture.

Ok, so we made it to the summit eventually and we decided to climb this:

So, we didn’t make it. We got about part of the way up and realized that although we are stunningly handsome and enjoy having the physiques of 20 year old body builders we just simply could not climb to the top without muddying our shoes. Not an acceptable compromise. We took a group photo though:

We both look a bit ridiculous but it’s the only group shot for today. Anyhow, here’s a shot of the shoes that would remain mudless:

OK enough of that boring line of thinking. I narrated an “end of life” message for the likely possibility that we would die in shorts on the side of an iceberg.

And then I posed stunningly.

You’re welcome. And again, look at the anguish in his eyes.

That’s for you mom, I was trying to smile.

Anyhow, moving on. Here is one of the old man looking pretty stinking sharp:

Ok, now we have moved on. We came down off the summit. Saw some goats:

And went back into Whitefish where I called Ali with good reception and talked about her first day of grad school. It was sort of like the first day of kindergarten…with less crying….some…but less.

It’s very late now about 2:30am maybe 3. Whoops. Not a good move. Have to drive to Canada tomorrow. Right.