Rock and Roll Stop the Traffic!

Up to Date

2011-11-16T17:11:00.000-08:00

Shoveling shit out of the back of a yellow pick up truck with a hangover

2011-09-07T18:23:00.001-07:00

The Gulf of Tonkin incident never happened.

Another

2011-08-10T18:00:00.001-07:00

Collective Consciousness, good one, that's hilarious Dude. There is nothing collective, or conscious about any of this...

Cosmic

2011-08-06T15:38:00.001-07:00

There are implications for breaking the law whether it's natural, cosmic, real or human. Of course every action is connected. Too bad the leaders, and the people they lead are completely disconnected from what is happening right in front of their eyeballs...

Don't Stare at the Sun, it'll drive you to a void of Thought...

2011-07-12T14:49:00.000-07:00

Just before sitting down I made this blown image of the sun casting out its photon light energy in all directions. Both lens and exposure are manual in this shot, somehow the effect is appealing to me considering the transfer I was about to go on.

I believe it was Robert E. Lee who was quoted but not cited saying, "Fiction weakens [spoils] the mind." Not sure if I agree or not anymore, he does however have a good point...

Physical Placement
In the middle of the daylight day two full earth rotations back from this, my body and mind came to a still sitting position on the hot shingled roof of the place where I sleep. This spot I sat on was a completely exposed steep slant in the middle of the section that connects the main roof of the house to the big one over the two car carport. The cause of being there was work alone for hours up and down, and back up sweating without realization. Up there is where it gets more hot than on the ground below. Tar. Radiant waves of solid heat do not seem to bother my emotions or form as hours pass, once again without realization. The longer the exposure to our immediate physical environment, the better adapted we become. Even in the blasting hot heat. Although my eyes were protected from the sun's gamma and beta, the atmosphere and all else I could feel wasn't.

What it looked like
There I sat with my legs crossed tightly. My back was straight, my torso erect. The only neck I have came strong holding my head completely high perched above the rest of me facing the solar center of our system. Underneath me at a slant between the hot sloping shingles and my sit bones was the blanket sized piece of gray carpet that I have held onto from the jeep I once owned, or thought I did anyway. Back then, with that truck I could and often did drive anywhere without thought or consequence. Those days have become completely gone forever because my connection to the actual emotional cost has been learned. Gone for the reality of just being creates in me an understanding of what is for sale. Rationalization, justification, ownership, avoidance, separation and so on. With that I am afraid to unlearn having only a small understanding of why. The colors of the blanket and the roof melded visually into one even though the blanket was softer, and less hot to the touch.

Electricity in the Brain Housing Group
Thoughts form in my skull from what my life has given me in experiences of being. Unfortunately there is no logical way to convey to you the exact mechanism that designs the start of a specific human thought. Mystery.

Interlude with Visual Connection
The sun was a dime sized blazing disc in the middle of the sky pointing down directly at the center of my forehead. In the calm hot fiery air my eyes assayed the white roof top in all direction as far as I could see without moving my brain. All appeared white, even the space around me except for the bright red bricks of the chimney squarely morphing from the peak upwards and the out of focus vibrant green trees behind that. Mental depth of field. Hazard. A sundry of items lie scattered about littering the steep pitched deck. Every object in front of me was familiar save the feelings pouring out onto the the carpet, and a small patch of roof in the form of liquid sweat. It was so quiet and still up there. Wonder. As the fluid left me, it made contact with a small piece of exposed shingle just outside the carpet edge. For a second I could almost smell the salt water turn to vapor as soon as it made contact with the hot roof. Essence of one's self is rarely understood, at that moment I was on the way to doing just that.

Specificity in the Inventory of Visual Scanning
Without moving my body or head the optic recognition of senseless objects continues with little thought. The narrow heavy blue steel cat's paw lied motionless just a few feet away out of reach. It was sticking out on its side from underneath a trashed shingle. It was apparent just by staring at its inert response that the tool was soaking up the heat without letting it go. Holding on.

Really, 94 Million Miles of an Absence of Space
Just then my eyes broke from the tool below me looking up towards the solar information disc above, some 94 million miles distant. That orb of hot glowing gasses with a volume 1.3 million times greater than that of earth appeared dime to nickel size hanging motionless up above the white sky. Blue is no longer. Not only was the position of the northern hemisphere tilted on axis directly towards the sol, but the slanted roof I was perched on increased the visual angle. Slant v. Slope. Now I was still again soaking up the radiation without moving, only concentrating on what being felt like. Inside my mind even that movement was slowing, which created space for a trickle of imagination.

Sound Vibration and Space
They say you cannot hear the sound of the sun, so I tried anyway. Yes, there is no physical way that the deafening sound (to us here on earth) of the sun can be heard for the vibrations do not travel through the 94 million miles of vacant space vacuum between here and there. Each and every atom in my human body takes up as much room as that space between here and the sun, that was my last thought before it all went away. My eyes were closing a bit just as the vibration became audible in my cortices. Although the noise was made up, it was real as my mental landscape gave up the room to accept how easy it is to understand. Distortion. Electro-Magnetic sharp waves pulsating as a result of fiery hydrogen and helium gasses to name a few being the most powerful thing within my realm. The light is on me immediately, however the sound is almost two decades behind at that exact second in time. Confusion leads to more letting go and opening.

Breathe and Breath
The basic human function overlooked by our culture. Time is irrelevant, a watch means nothing although watching is everything. It takes many practices to get deep breathing to touch your diaphragm. Many attempts of concentrating on a balance between the same length of inhales, versus the immediate transition to exhales without hesitation. These practices allow you to focus on going deeper with inhales in succession each time moving right into the same length of exhales, back to a deeper inhale, matching exhale and so on. Before long that inhale supersedes the times space allotted by the bounds of modernity and contact is made with the diaphragm, a feeling one never forgets or unlearns when it is experienced. We all know that the diaphragm is the muscle under our lungs and above our stomach. Feeling it which created a visual behind closed eyes is a whole other story. In the scorch up high, no one dropped by as I began to free fall into the absence of thought with complete feeling.

First Movement out of the Trance
Om Shanti. In my mind was a blank screen long enough to feel bliss, the journey took me to a destination not often seen. A specific vision often comes to my mind, as far back as Christmas of 1976 or 77. The better part of my life I would ignore the little picture or film in my mind's eye up until about twelve years ago when I was taught exactly how important it is to understand the visual impressions my mind provides me for free, in the true sense of the word. These little clips are insights to the invisible forces of love and gravity, truth and what is real. For the past few weeks I have been bothered while waking up in the middle of a night by an animated little cerebral video of a giant white three ring binder. When I came out of my space vacant of thought or connection the first thing that I saw even though in light I was surrounded by darkness was that white three ring binder. Somehow, the place was perfect for me to understand what was happening and hold onto what was being cast onto the inside front movie screen of my skull. All of a sudden this plain white binder on an even brighter white backdrop opened up with invisible fingers attached to a just as invisible hand so that I could see the contents of the book. White paper, completely blank. The image was still for a piece, then the invisible fingers began to flip through the pages so that I could see three things. First, there was nothing on either side of the paper. Secondly, there was an infinite amount of pages from the beginning, the flipping would go on for eternity. And finally, those blank pages are the empty guidelines not yet written for the future ahead of me, and us all passed the immediate now.

Conclusion leads to the Next Space
When I came back to earth reality sort of speak, I realized I was not sweating anymore. My body was cooked even before I went into a meditative state and now distance had been traveled on the earth hurtling through at 55,000mph. How far had I gone while sitting there under the hypnosis of the information disc? Wonderment. My Indian Style motionless sit journey took me out for a spin of no fewer than 55,000 miles and what a ride it was considering I never left where the two roofs came together.

Dam (like damn) Pictures of the Week...

2011-07-09T04:24:00.000-07:00

On Thursday afternoon Albemarle Rd., HWY 24/27 was closed in both directions at the big dip just passed the Lawyers Rd. and East Harris intersection because of a cracked weir holding back the swollen man made Forest Lake. Outbound rush hour car commuter traffic on Albemarle heading east was a dam standstill nightmare all the way back to Independence, unless of course you were on dam a bicycle.

Friday morning I rolled out of the house early with my little camera in the bag and headed over to check out how much progress was made from the overnight efforts of the CFD and some contractors to drain the lake and relieve pressure on the dam weir. When I stood on the east bank of the lake, the first thing I noticed besides the huge generator pumps and their lines was the roof of a car. HWY 24/27 had been reopened long before I arrived.

Here is a look at the riprap application on the backside of the stress fatigued dam. A few meters down below the sloping terrain is 24/27. Although Forest Lake is not a huge body of water, it had enough volume behind the dam to cause a major problem across Albemarle and in the neighborhood on the other side of the highway on down stream. *Notice what appears to be a big pile of condoms that were cleared from the pipes. The man on the phone might be calling the mayor's office to find out what to do with them...

The dam draining seemed to be winding down, the big motors went silent. I rode around to the west bank of the lake and talked to a few folks from the press corps, including a familiar staff photographer from the Observer. This photographer who will remain anonymous for the time being or until you use your intuitive deductions skills, asked me if I had rode all the way from the big buildings just to get a shot of the car. I gave him the brief organic explanation about my daily commute which made him smile and almost start to laugh. When I asked him about the scoop on the car, he told me that the bigger story was that the pumps continuously stopped working through the night. "Yeah", he said, "One of the engineers told me that the big pipes draining the lake kept getting clogged up which caused the motors down to shut down often. Apparently there were 25 years worth of condoms in the lake that were jamming the pipes." Oh, I get it, you are making a dam joke. Very funny.

Seriously, what about the dam car, was there a body in it? We talked a bit more about the project unfolding in front of us. My intuitive self felt like there was no human in the sunken car, but that feeling was based on my scanning of what I could see of the passenger compartment and the body language of the CMPD brass standing quietly on the hill. The contents of the trunk was the only question, there was a physical block I could not feel passed to know for sure whether or not there was a body in there.

The news crews started packing up and it was time for me to get going as well. I overheard one of the cameramen mention that 'they' will not pull the car out while the cameras were set up. The waiting game was over and the Observer guy without offering to drive me into town told me to be careful on my ride in. "Thanks, if I'm not you'll read about it in that paper you work for", I told him as I rode away beating him and his motorized van to East Harris and beyond.

This parting image was the most interesting in the set to me. Tree stumps at the bottom of Forest Lake, I would have never thought that the floor of the lake looked like this until I saw it myself. It was clearly obvious that this man made lake was one day natural wooded space.

901 Gone to the Dogs

2011-07-06T03:04:00.000-07:00

23May2011

Geared Road Ride with Dude, PLUS 900th Post

2011-07-05T16:47:00.000-07:00

Dude and I stopped at around about 55 miles for me, something like 63 for him under a shade tree at Cold Springs and Cold Springs. Our twenty minute respite gave us a chance to get caught up on our emails, consume some liquid and advise a caller from far away on the best way to remove pedals from a bike. The caller must have never done that before...

Another one of Jerry's 105km (125km getting on and off from my hizzle) cues out east of here provided not only country visual oohs and aahs, but as well enough exposed to the sun's power climbing to hurt just a bit. Dude rolled up from his house to mine at right before 0800hrs yesterday, the Fourth of July. He had just missed my dumb ass neighbor's thick black male cat remove a road killed meat bloody squirrel from the street in front of my mailbox, and then struggle with its head in his mouth all the way to his own back step.

Never a dull moment here in the wild kingdom known as east Charlotte. We rolled out on time with Dude convincing me that we do not have to swallow our pride surfing the side walk on Albemarle Rd. until it ends out by Wilgrove Mint Hill Rd., we would take to HWY 24/27 as if we owned it. Interestingly enough, just like he said when we turned out of the far end of a connected neighborhood onto it, "Oh yeah, we got this."

Then out passed Sherman Branch we spun by as folks unloaded their mountain machines in the lot about to go into the woods before it got too hot. The Rocky River Church Road took us out to the lower then right onto Morrison Rd. It is truly amazing how quickly leaving the hectic traffic of Charlotte disappears turning into an innocuous authentic smelling farm field scape lined with two miles of tall pines. A dog barks while Dude talks about future rides he is preparing for right now. No one is out of their homes, even in the country the blinds are drawn behind the cars filling the drive. A rooster blasts his calls announcing our approach as we zoom by.

Flowes Store Rd was next then left on it again riding deeper out into the gentle agricultural land rollers. As the ride hit the 2 and a half hour mark I started to notice the most uniquely built old turn of the 19th Century farm houses. Some of them were abandoned, slanting to the right or left with rusted tin roofs clinging to main frame chimneys. The porches on these places told me a short story each time I looked over my shoulder then hearing the hot wind in my ear. Mainly white now faded gray was the color of choice, even back then. Vines and golden fields took up my view only yielding to those which were green or brown. Jwaye, you were missing the 'where the fuck am I transfer'.

More heat but not the eXtreme kind, yet radiant and pulsating on my skin. Morale is always good when riding with Dude. As we talked about things in general and pro level drive trains (on his bike, not mine) I realized that I had been riding with him for over a decade. Age is whiz dumb and learning simultaneously while watching friends pedal right next to you for long periods of time or transfer. That famous morale of the only person I was riding with other than me never wavered when I (then we) realized that I had erroneously transposed a left turn missed for an actual right turn that I never saw until we were about four miles off the cue. How could it be a ride with me if we didn't get lost for awhile?

Fixing that with the hand held transmitter as someone parked their idling Agway lawnmower to run into the store gave us the only busy road we felt. Back on continued with the most incredible roads available to ride out of town. Some of them were narrow without any painted lines or a single auto the whole way. Again, the feeling of real living enveloped us as we rode right through the center of it. Where are we, I thought to myself at about three hours in riding as I was staring at hundreds of cows and bulls dotting the immediate right hand side of the paved quiet Euro road for two thousand meters. Cedar post fence with barbed wire run in between separated us on our bikes rolling from these large animals that like a painting disappeared into the distant tree line. Some were eating the lush green short grass while others were moving about with their babies or standing in the center of a low brown pond. Most of them seemed to at least take notice of us as we pedaled on by staring at them.

Mt. Olive Road and its series of sun blistered climbs as well as Dude's pace put me to task. Once again my heart was apparent and visually on the front of the inside of my skull. Bright lights small town or none at all.

Real sugar. On in on Albemarle again something like four hours and a half riding time closing in on our separate homes Dude and I split before the train bridge, him to the right for Pence then Hickory Grove while I continued tingly on HWY 24/27. It took me a minute to cool down when I arrived at the safety of the place I sleep with dogs.

Note from Author: When I logged in toonight to make this post documenting my latest road ride, I noticed that it was going to be my 900th post. Yes I know, most of it is crap but it does fascinate me that I have gotten on here and put something, anything out that many times. Even more intriguing is that you are part of it and at anytime can go back all the way to the beginning, 900 posts ago. To Celebrate I feel like I should go on a 900 mile ride or something...

13 Years Ago Today & It's About the People...

2011-07-03T06:37:00.000-07:00

No gain, no pain...

Here is a recent shot of Nate on the beach near Bol Croatia. He is apparently impressing the people on the ferry cruising the Adriatic Sea behind him with his mad HASTA PADANGUSTHASANA skills. Photographer Nela Kranjcevic. *Note: Header image credit obviously Nela as well.

Today is July 3, 2011 which happens to be the thirteenth Anniversary of the first day I started as a bike messenger in Charlotte. Time flies when you are having fun making money having fun. Those very first few days on the job are clear in my memory, especially meeting two of the couriers already in place. One of those was the not yet notable to many Rich Dillen, and the other was Nathan Sprinkle. Dicky is still around, however Nathan has long since moved on with his life which has taken him on multiple journeys to far away places in Africa and Europe.

Friends do not have to talk much on the phone or the email to actually remain friends when time and space on this earth separates them. Over the years riding as my livity in Charlotte I have met some truly amazing and powerful humans, Nathan is near the top of that list. In celebration of my 13th year of couriering by bike, I would like to share with you Nate's response to 10 questions that I recently posed to him. His matter of fact answers are coming all the way from Belgrade Serbia where he has found some sort of internal peace that is apparent in his words and the picture above. I find his character and worldly bravery an inspiration that is worth sharing with you.

1. Since I've known you Nate, you've been on many travels. How long has it been on this latest excursion since you left America, and where are you now?

I left the USofA in early July of 2010, so it's been almost a year. I am writing from Belgrade, Serbia, where I have a legally obtained Temporary Resident Visa. Since Nela and I plan to marry we have to figure out what procedures are necessary for maintaining my legitimate existence. For instance, do I try to get a new international driving permit or a license issued by the Serbian authorities?

2. Do you miss your existence here in the U.S.?

I miss certain things about the US. My family, of course. My sister's baby is growing up fast and I can only watch his human progress via skype. Not to mention my 3 nieces. I miss certain foods. I miss the National Park System. There are some really beautiful landscapes in this part of the world but they are not easy to access.
3. Have you found a bike, and more importantly do you ride it much? If so, what is it like to ride in such a far away place?

I do have a bike, remember I posted some photos of it on my FB wall. It is a strange gestalt that is referred to here as a fitness bike. I use it to commute as often as possible. I don't ride for recreation as much as I was in the States. Perhaps because I have a girlfriend (now fiance), and perhaps because Belgrade isn't really a great place to ride a bike, topographically or traffically. I have met a few local riders through a website (www.cikloberza.com) and plan to get riding more in the future. I want to do some touring, but that is predicated on finding a way to earn money.
4. Does your last experience as a messenger here in Charlotte still have an impact on your life right now?

I often feel very lazy. There isn't much teaching to do, I have only a few classes, and it is not physically taxing work. I do housework, of course, but that doesn't count. I have to remind myself that I can work hard and diligently when the need arises. I think back to my last messenger experience: 50 minute morning commute, 8 hour day of riding, then straight to class until after dark, and end with another long commute or a bus ride if I was lucky. I miss it sometimes.
5. What does it feel like to have a college degree from an American University while living in eastern Europe?

I wish I had studied Biology.

6. How's Nela?

Nela is in conflict right now. She wants to change her job, and has the opportunity to do so. But the new job pays less than her current job. Also she wants to have a baby, and if she takes the new job she feels she will have to put off having a baby. She is happy we are getting married, though, and that we are getting long really well, after a rough patch a month or so ago. *Late Edit: She took the new Job.
7. Do you ever tell anyone in Serbia that you know Team Dicky and The Pie personally?

I haven't met anyone who are aware of the Team Dicky phenomenon, much less The Pie. Sometimes I am surprised at how much people know of American Culture and at other times I am disappointed at things they have missed. I'm not sure how Team Dicky would be interpreted by the Serbian audience. Would they see it as just another example of American moral depravity? Or as the Id that opposes US cycle racing's Ego?
8. What's the biggest difference between the American culture you were raised in, and the culture of the people you are surrounded by right now?

Nela was surprised when I told her that many, if not most, people in the US believe in Heaven and Hell. I was raised by a Christian family in a Christian society and only reached atheism by way of a long period of contemplation and consideration. Here, atheism is just the way things are. Even people who are religious (in Serbia, Orthodox Christianity is most common) are not beholden to all of the strict doctrines that US Christians hold dear.
9. In the recent image (assumed to be shot by Nela) I saw of you holding some sort of yoga pose (excuse my ignorance like you always have), what body of water is behind you?

The body of water is The Adriatic Sea, specifically the part that flows between the islands of Brać and Hvar. The pebble beach on which I balanced is called Zlatni Rat or "Golden Cape" (though 'rat' can also mean 'war') near the town of Bol. The photo is deceiving, the beach is actually pretty crowded, but not nearly as crowded as, say, Myrtle Beach. The water is crystal clear down to at least 30 feet. Also I haven't done a full yoga session in months.
10. Right now, this magical instant before us, do you ever see yourself coming back to the land of the free?

Sure. At least to visit. It depends on economics, really. But I expect to be, as I always am, dismayed and depressed by the continual and unflagging destruction of the best thing about America: the land.

Thanks, I don't think of myself as an inspiring person. I had the pleasure of meeting two friends from the States on the recent trip to Croatia. I hope some day you and I have a chance to meet on the soil of this continent.

Smrt Fašizam (as they used to say),
nathan

Laptop Round Up for the Real Goal Reached, and that is just the beginning...

2011-06-27T16:45:00.000-07:00

Here Ryan (not wearing a tie) and Luiguuy graciously take a minute to pose for me and my ubiquitous eyephone ap. Note: Ryan's eyes are wide open...

On my regular commute in earlier today the rhythm of the constant cranking combined with fact that a patch of my soft rubber tires were making a narrow short but firm contact with the man made enhancement to the earth's surface, I had a thought. This original Bill thought started with a sound in my ears, like a ringing: Life as well as our existence in it is truly more than who we are, or who we perceive ourselves to be. This is not about me, or anyone specifically for that matter.

According to our accounting department, as of June 1, ten laptops with functioning operating systems (the Hackers told me operating operating systems 'sounds' funny) have been delivered to Haiti and are in the loop on the ground helping folks who live in a place where time stands still. That is good.

Even better though is that thanks to the overall support of Hackerspace Charlotte, Smiles, Danny, of course Ryan, and a few others who need no press we were able to pass to Luiguuy five working machines last night. That means that the Laptop Round Up for the Real has been able to meet its goal of 15 donations. Dough Nay Shuns. The crazy part is we will be steadily passing by the original goal for our own kinda victory over the next months and perhaps into early next year. In other words, (we) still have more to fix in the hole, and really wonderful humans have made commitments to our project that will keep it going well into the fall.

Just as the Hackerspace was trying out their new perfectly legal pneumatic Rocket Launcher along side the main train tracks that service both freight trains and speeding by Amtrak passengers, Luiguuy pulled in to make the pick up. Before we gave him the computers, we made sure he got to see at least one launch. No tease, that paper/duct tape missile lofted up over 250 feet above our heads. Shock and awe, the Hackerspace never lets you down.

Jwaye told me that back when she was in college her communication media professor taught her that this image is classic, "Grip and grin." Jwaye, all the money that your parents spent on your college experience was well worth it, you are educated.

Here Luiguuy and I complete the collegiate degree with a very natural, grip and grin. Both of us are actually smiling because what is happening around us is completely real.

Quarry Swim

2011-06-23T20:21:00.000-07:00

Eyephone Ap Image of Mein Schatz with goggles on in the center of the frame last Monday afternoon shot by me.

For those of you who missed it, this is the quarry I passed on my solo 125km ride the previous Sunday from now. I was in northwest Cabarrus County, about as far away as Jerry's cue took me when just below the road at a steep angle was the most perfect looking swimming hole I've seen in years here in North Carolina. There was no way I could stop then, I had to keep pedaling for the house was still hours away.

The next day however I had the chance to surprise my kid with a clean cold water swim transfer. Before we left she kept asking questions about what it was going to be like. She understands completely how polluted the water in our county actually is and wanted to verify that she was not going to be let down after having to spend an hour in the car each way. Google earth satelite imagery a few hundred feet above the deck was all she needed to see before suggesting that we leave right away. So, we did.

It was hard to believe how far away the spot seemed by UN Montero as compared to my bike ride. That place is out there. I found myself reminding her each time she asked about how much longer was it going to take to get there that just the day before I had made it on my bike and home, it cannot be that much farther. Finally, the spot. A short descent down a steep and a scan of our selected place along the water's edge. Safety first. There were no postings and we happened to be the only ones there for just under two hours.

Earth like lunar planet (like plan it) landscape, clean smelling cool water. Sun blast information disc heat on shoulders creating a happy kid disappearing under the surface of molecular water. I really felt for a split second that I was in the sacred place of Utah while knowing damn well I was in the center of the Tar Heel State. The dry wind felt amazing on my wet skin when I walked out of, not on the water. Bright sun photon light energy (E=MC2) blasted us as we frolicked. Warmth and quiet looking with birds flying high above.

My kid continues to amaze me with the way she receives her natural surroundings. She is older now, being pulled between the safety of being a small child, naive to the aggressive nature of the agenda above us and stepping out into her own reality check. Beauty in feeling what her emotional capacity has to offer makes her bright eyed, especially in the water which is one of the three colors that makes up her earth colored eyes.

Now I know why I went on that long ride alone...

Crepuscular Rays

2011-06-22T17:22:00.000-07:00

Are what you have been looking at for the last week or so up top.

Crepuscular Rays (a.k.a. God Rays) have always caught my attention whenever I see them forming. As a small kid running around on a hill in Connecticut I can remember seeing them up by the power lines that would stop me in my tracks. Power line, get it?

The evening sky was looking right just a week and a half ago, so I ran around the front and down the street for a somewhat clear line with the old lens on and one in each in my two front pockets. These rays were not that impressive, however, as an experiment they were worth capturing.

Basically Crepuscular rays occur in our visual cortices when the sun's hectic photon energy streams through gaps in the clouds. The effect is dramatized through my eyes when the under side of the clouds that the light is streaming through becoming more shadowed and dark. These light shows usually happen in the late evening hours which is how they got there name. Here is the definition of crepuscular from the dictionary:

-adjective
1. of, pertaining to, or resembling twilight; dim; indistinct
2. Zoology. appearing or active in the twilight, as certain bats and insects

So, now that the science part of this post is over, I would like to share something I find hilarious with you. Cedar Posts and Barbed Wire Fences (a.k.a Cedar) is the only blog (not bike related) that I am completely addicted to, have been for a few years now since I accidentally discovered that he had Rock and Roll Stop the Traffic linked on his blog roll. Although I do not agree with everything he believes in, I am amazed at how truthful his information is as compared to say, any other local media outlet in the region. If you want to get the real insight as to what is happening in our town, I highly suggest checking in with him regularly. He is brave.

Anyhow, the other day I was reading his post about something sort of dumb that NBC did during the start of their coverage of the U.S. Open Golf Championships. That dumb thing turned even more dumb when NBC as a Corporate 'voice' electronic entity apologized for the first dumb thing on Twitter almost immediately after it had happened. Okay fine, I am updated, but what was hilarious to me was in the comment line three down.

(sorry in advance for the F-bomb being posted on this blog. That happening is a first, and at least it is not mine)

Anon 11:17pm lovingly writes:

its - a possessive, similar to your, NO FUCKING APOSTROPHE
it's - a contraction of "it is", as in 'it's fucking simple', A FUCKING
APOSTROPHE

Need a trick? Fine - when using it's or you're, expand the contraction. If
"you're head is full of shit" becomes "you are head is full of shit" and doesn't make any sense (maybe it will to you because you're a fucking idiot), then you are using the wrong word.
June 20, 2011 11:17 PM

Then Cedar replies with:

Cedar Posts said...

Funny comment even with all the F-Bombs.

Note to the rational, normal people in the world: Thanks for understanding!

To everyone else, its a BLOG! So before you work yourself into a stroke, please consider these ten points:

1) Most of this is "Orginal Content"
2) done on the fly from a BlackBerry
3) By someone wjo can't spell
4) or type
4) and has limited math skills.
5) While most people can "read around" typos,
6) this writer has come to accept that some people are obsessed with even the smallest of tiny details.
7)Sad but over the years I have come to learn that small people have small lives, and live in small homes where the littlest things drive them crazy.
9) I have to laugh and hope they aren't armed and that the bus route doesn't run close to their homes.
10) But its OK with me if you want to rant your life away.
June 21, 2011 4:39 AM

Yesterday I made a happy handed from brain mistake when I wrote: This will be another 15 second proceeding in where the defense will inform the judge and the state whether it has had the time to read the discovery it was presented at the last court date.

Over twenty years ago I learned HOW TO APPLY WHETHER, AND I HAVE NEVER FORGOTTEN. (Until yesterday apparently)

Of course when I read my post this afternoon and caught the fact that I had left out an 'or not', I fixed it after feeling the blog writer's invisible humiliation. You can't see it, but it kicks you in the gut every time and makes you think about dying. Cedar has the right understanding of the problem making mistakes. I need to learn from him and just build a bridge so I can ride my bike right over it. I was however sort of let down that a raving lunatic did not blast me with an anonymous identity on my comment section. Thanks once again Cedar, this time for drawing my attention to what is completely real...

No I haven't Forgotten, how could I ever?

2011-06-21T17:09:00.000-07:00

I am sharing [with no intent to sell anything] this picture of Radok that I found on his memorial faceliftbook page. The original credit looks like it goes to Laura Dwyer whose name was attached to the image. (I changed her original work to Black & White and did an 'e' crop)

It has been over five months since Radok left the face of the earth, and I am often tacitly reminded about the life he lived during my daily existence still living. Small things you know. For example, on my inbound commute I pass the white wall that I was sitting on behind the Exxon 'on' the run, while waiting for him to roll up that day he followed me in to make a picture in the rain. Another example would be that about an hour after passing the wall, I get coffee down at the CM2 in the South End is near. On the cabinet door below the shelf that the coffee thermoses are on is one of those Chris Radok sitting in the chair stickers. When I look at him, he stares right back. Two hours later, I am in the courthouse. For the rest of my career I will not be able to go into that house of judiciary without knowing that is where Radok's murderer is being brought to face the truth of his projection and manifestation.

After I leave the courthouse, on my way to deliver the work I often climb up to Tryon on Trade Street which has me go right by the Ritz. Hey, that's where Radok worked. Time goes by and I ride around on the schedule to the firms and a few hours later I find myself racing (sort of) to a call for an ASAP. It is tight traffic on south Tryon and street side parked autos have me pinched in a tiny little place of a line. Once Radok ran backwards with the wide lens and body in his hand to get a cool cold rainy day shot of Nate and I. More time passes, back to the courthouse and another return trip. In the afternoon, on my way home that very same day I will go right by that same white wall again. How could I not recognize it for the spiritual message that it actually is. Radok, it's not just me man. You're life, the way you lived it and the impact you had on those people fortunate enough to have spent time with you will be felt forever...

Maybe I should get you all caught up on the court proceedings in the case of The State of North Carolina v. Antoine D. Young. Here is the organic down load as of today. After the post pone meant of the Rule 24 Hearing one was had on the very next monthly calendar opening. The state, headed up by Gabrielle Macon publicly presented their intent to seek the death penalty for Young as punishment upon conviction. I was there that day with some gum chewing energy amongst other friends, but I missed Young being led in to be told about his own death. After the hearing and the intentions of the state being read I felt neutrality, revenge is not apparent in what I feel. Process. Rule 24.

Since then there has been one other court date, which is not considered a hearing. Bev in the District Attorney's office has answered my calls and always takes the time to explain to me what is going on. I should also let you know that I check in with the criminal clerk every several weeks to see if there is any new info. The last court date was back in May and it was a 15 second admin session where basically the state presented the defense with all the evidence discovery that it had collected in the case. The defense stated that it had received the discovery, Young was never brought in the room or seen on the screen.

The next court date has been set for July 7th in CR5350 on the 0900hr docket call. This will be another 15 second proceeding in where the defense will inform the judge and the state whether or not it has had the time to read the discovery it was presented at the last court date. Once that has been determined an announcement will be made regarding how the case will proceed. I will check with some folks this week and next to make sure there are no surprises. If there are any changes or new information that is important I will be sure to pass along here and on the FLB Memorial Page.

After the July date it would make sense that there will be a plea hearing sometime in the fall. At that point Young will have to enter a plea of guilty, or not. If he admits the truth and his guilt a long trial will be avoided in trade for his execution. If he chooses the other entry, a long trial will most likely start in around a year, to a year and a half from now. I think I speak for a few when I say that no matter what happens, the state has to guarantee that if Young admits his guilt or is convicted he has to spend the rest of his natural life incarcerated. Justice is in the hands of the people and we will be with this one all the way through...

Good News & Bad News

2011-06-20T16:26:00.000-07:00

So, what do you want to hear first? The good news, or the bad news? Fine you bunch of dedicated optimists, I'll lay the good news on you now then I will move on to the bad news.

The good news starts with a presently local fine art landscape photographer named Jeff Botz who I met in April of 2001. In that first introduction on the second floor of Charlotte's main library I got the organic down load regarding the large format film project that Jeff had been working on since the seventies. Botzie shoots with an 8 x 10 inch negative view camera high up in the mountains of Nepal and Tibet in an effort to capture the appearance and identity of the largest mountains in the world. Years of experience, personal sacrifice and dedication to the collection of work has given him the opportunity to form an awareness understanding and true education of the region.

In addition to getting a crash course on his project that day he also let me know that Everest was not Everest at all.

Here is a scan of his huge poster supporting the show he put on at the Hickory Museum of Art in 2007.

He recently returned from Kathmandu where he had been since April setting up his first show at the Patan Museum and as well building a gallery housing his work that will run for five months in the Thamel section of the capital city. Jeff had good successes on this trip and even more local people heard what he had to say about the true identity of the mountain.

The Himalayan Voice wrote a current article openly discussing Jeff's theory that for the sake of the dignity of not only the mountain, but the people of Nepal the mountain should return to its original name Sagarmatha (Mother Goddess Earth). On the Tibetan side that would be Qomolangma, which I have heard translated to both Holy Mother, and The Stick that Turns the Universe. I am very motivated and compelled to share with you this developing news about how one man staying true to his Dharma can have such an impact on not only the people in the area, but the entire world.

I swiped this photo of Jeff working high up in the field from his Facebook page.

Now for the opposing bad news, which is actually a tragic event that took place on June 15 in Keene New Hampshire less than a week ago. According to multiple sources including first hand witnesses, 58 year old Thomas James Ball walked up to the Cheshire County Courthouse on Wednesday evening, doused himself with gas then lit a match. His suicide by immolation was planned, he left a 10,000 word essay outlining the reasons why he felt it necessary to take his own life. You can read what little information is out there about this amazing event by starting here.

Of course I read what I could find, but I wasn't at all sure of what to believe considering that none of the normal sources I consider somewhat real had touched it. Several 'news' agencies tried to make a comparison between America's response to Ball's self immolation, and the sparking of the very still present Arabic uprising in the not so far away Middle East when 26 year old Mohammed Bouazizi lit himself on fire after having his vegetable cart taken from him based on 'law' by the Tunisian Police.

Now, not forever ago past or an unattainable event in the future. Right now. Several things got my attention about this horrible event taking place in New Hampshire last week. First, like Everest not being Everest, journalism is not journalism. It is only a series of collective decoys from what is really happening at that exact same time. Second and more importantly, in Thomas Ball's final post he observed that the United States was becoming a nation without laws. He suggests that the government uses a second set of books which is a collection of policies, procedures and protocols that courts and executive agencies rely on.

Not knowing what truly brought Mr. Ball to his actions leaves me stunned and sad for any family members that he left behind in trade for what he believed. This is a very real event which has set into motion cosmic projection not yet manifested.

I grabbed this image of the Cheshire County Courthouse taped off from WMUR New Hampshire.

Feel it or Not, it is very real to me...

2011-06-19T08:26:00.000-07:00

As you my lovely audience have recognized with your infinite wisdom and capacity to see the obvious, the posts here at the Traffic Stop have dried up as of late. My will to write about what I see as true going on around me collided with the searing reality that I may not have the guts to do it. A short list of recent actual events which have driven me to blog block comes to mind: Radok's murder, the devastating larger than Haiti sized earthquake destruction in Japan, a new billion dollar presidential approved contract on war killing more innocents in Libya while we as a people keep up the rationalizations in the form of separating the physical reality from how we feel, the big win 'taking out' OBL, no jobs, yet there is plenty of work to do all around us, the connection between continent sized storms dropping huge fatal tornadoes out of the sky in the center of this fine nation and the amount of chaos we project globally with American made weapons in trade for it all.

I know, I know, if you don't read the paper, look at the news, or talk to some smart folks from Europe these items could easily be dismissed in the form of rationalization that the trade is worth it and its end result does not affect you. My realization is different than most, has been since Christmas day when I was seven years old. What I see happening right now is a direct connection between American made military weapons, the daily death of innocent lives of all ages and a nation desperate to keep that form of progress going infinitely into the forward future. None of this causes me to live in fear or some sort of perceived state of unhappiness. Like someone smart once told me when we were discussing how many people take corporate produced pharmaceuticals three times a day to achieve whatever grace they are seeking, "The cure for unhappiness, is happiness." My time here cannot be spent chasing an ultimate goal of something as whimsical and unattached from what is really going on around me as happiness.

Self Portrait roughly 25 minutes before cracking, or better yet being cracked by Jwaye near the end of our 107 mile (173.4km) ride.

Besides the normal bike bound work and commute week, the past several weekends have been rather interesting on the ride front. 50 miles south of Charlotte, 75 miles (Spamerton), 107 miles of Smoot's best century, 77.5 miles east of here out of the house solo.

Notable points of interest: These were all fixed gear rides. The first three rides listed above were done with one other rider, Jwaye. She is a crusher who has only been riding for a few months and while we were riding the 107, at mile 102 inbound on the other side of the airport she decided to destroy my will to live by opening it up on Wallace Neel. As she pulled away I thought to myself, no way, she cannot have this in her. Reaching into my man purse of courage I tried to stay on however there was only a little bit of lint in the bottom of the satchel. My heart was well over 100bpm at 6hrs and 40 something minutes in. Could I be about to have a massive heart attack? Does Jwaye know CPR well enough to keep me alive until MEDIC can find me? The tall Swede, some 15 years younger than I danced across the tarmac at 46x18 disappearing off the front of my view. She had to be going 25mph, either that or I was down to a 4mph crawl. Demoralized, with cement filled legs like I never remember experiencing, my life spark was squelched in the hot heat, but I had to keep going to finish the ride so I did. My heart continued to leap inside my chest cavity creating a 3D hologram image of itself (the muscle that pumps life through my body) on the movie screen in the front of my mind. It looked like it was alone speed lurching almost spasmodically inside the protection of my rib cage. But then my mind and brain housing group befriended it making me feel more alive than I had been. During that twenty minutes of the ride, time stopped completely. I cannot ever remember being that cracked on my bike...

Self Portrait one week after the 107 mile cracking. At the time I made this picture (75k into the 125) I was feeling great and recovered from the spanking I took earlier in the week. Yes, standard and metric talk can get slightly confusing to understand scale when used together, either way it is BIG and only math.

*NOTE: To those of you paying attention, I have (4) serviceable UXC jerseys left in my lycra drawer, and no, it is not the only jersey I own. New clothes are for Canadians...

Last weekend's 125km solo effort wound up being a great recovery transfer. The first 20km was with Stuckey before he took ill and had to turn around in the oppressive asphalt, my fault upper nineties heat. Then, just over 105k alone with my body, mind and single speed machine. Jerry's route that he had passed to me via email was beautiful. There were rolling hill climbs that seemed innocuous compared to the ones I had faced in the previous weeks out west of town towards the foothills. Crossing the formal Amish settlement that is Lentz Harness Shop Road was the highlight of the ride. At the start tall pines lined the road on one side, and huge round hay bales dotted the open expanse of fields on the other. Gentle climbs up a bit through the pastoral arena led to a turn near an old farmhouse. Then, all of a sudden the road surface went to dirt. Yes, dirt. Nothing lifts the spirits on a long road ride alone like hitting an unexpected section of dirt, nothing. Goody, I thought to myself as I looked out ahead seeing the gray ribbon of hard packed dirt roll over the green landscape in front of me disappearing at the visible horizon several thousand meters away.

Those long minutes in the saddle draw my attention to how important living in the now actually is...

Picture of the Week

2011-06-16T15:38:00.000-07:00

This creature died in my presence today. The eyes are amazing and look as if they have human characteristics and sad elderly quality under the green glassy orb. Manual Nikor 55mm macro lens in full sun.

Credit Check

2011-05-07T16:30:00.000-07:00

This image has been my header for the past week until being replaced by the self portrait that I made last year in July, the last time I had a haircut (or any of them for that matter). Several people have contacted me saying that the image is a genuine likeness of yours truly and the shot's clarity in composition truly reflects how they see me when in person. Credit should go when it is due and in this case the one who made the snap was Shannon Lechner, a photography student and apprentice. She was using my camera under her manual control (with my add vice) and the old 55mm portrait lens. I edited the original a bit with crop, black & white effect and a slight contrast adjustment. For whatever reason, I really like this shot of myself and I do not say that often.

This one I used the other day to introduce my immediate reaction to the news that sent millions of Americans in the opposite direction of what I was feeling. Through the trees the sun burst the day before in my out back yard. It is a completely lucky shot held still and changed only with black & white, contrast and a touch of highlight. The burst in the sun is how the lens sent it to the reader, 16 million points of light radiating from the center. A star apparent.

Closure only comes by letting go.

2011-05-05T17:08:00.000-07:00

Of course some folks are starting to say that it is already old 'news', however the implications of the announcement that Osama bin (not ibn) Laden has been swept off the face of the earth will reverberate forever. As in this second of time the changes are in motion, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. The other basic principal of science proven time again states that two people can look at the same object from opposing sides and see two completely different things. Every single day I walk and ride across the surface of this spinning planet those two basic theories reveal themselves honestly and without a veil.

You are about to read a document that I consider absolutely brilliant for its simplicity and accurate description of the cultural response to the death of the co-founder of al-Qaeda. There is a possibility that this post will become AI'd and disappear from your cortex. The only truth is that my intention is to transfer to you the peaceful response of understanding and feeling what is really going on around us. Even though you may consider 'it' over your head and out of your con troll, your connection to this insanity in the now is organically connected to its manifestation.

Online page with links can be read here.
From Peter Joseph & Zeitgeist:

On May 1, 2011 Pres. Barack Obama appeared on national television with the
spontaneous announcement that Osama bin Laden, the purported organizer of
the tragic events of September 11th 2001, was killed by military forces in
Pakistan.

Within moments, a media blitz ran across virtually all television networks
in what could only be described as a grotesque celebratory display,
reflective of a level of emotional immaturity that borders on cultural
psychosis. Depictions of people running through the streets of New York and
Washington chanting jingoistic American slogans, waving their flags like
the members of some cult, praising the death of another human being,
reveals yet another layer of this sickness we call modern society.

It is not the scope of this response to address the political usage of such
an event or to illuminate the staged orchestration of how public perception
was to be controlled by the mainstream media and the United States
Government. Rather the point of this article is to express the gross
irrationality apparent and how our culture becomes so easily fixed and
emotionally charged with respect to surface symbology, rather than true
root problems, solutions or rational considerations of circumstance.

The first and most obvious point is that the death of Osama bin Laden means
nothing when it comes to the problem of international terrorism. His death
simply serves as a catharsis for a culture that has a neurotic fixation on
revenge and retribution. The very fact that the Government which, from a
psychological standpoint, has always served as a paternal figure for it
citizens, reinforces the idea that murdering people is a solution to
anything should be enough for most of us to take pause and consider the
quality of the values coming out of the zeitgeist itself.

However, beyond the emotional distortions and tragic, vindictive pattern of
rewarding the continuation of human division and violence comes a more
practical consideration regarding what the problem really is and the
importance of that problem with respect to priority.

The death of any human being is of an immeasurable consequence in society.
It is never just the death of the individual. It is the death of
relationships, companionship, support and the integrity of familial and
communal environments. The unnecessary deaths of 3000 people on September
11, 2001 is no more or no less important than the deaths of those during
the World Wars, via cancer and disease, accidents or anything else.

As a society, it is safe to say that we seek a world that strategically
limits all such unnecessary consequences through social approaches that
allow for the greatest safety our ingenuity can create. It is in this
context that the neurotic obsession with the events of September 11th, 2001
become gravely insulting and detrimental to progress. An environment has
now been created where outrageous amounts of money, resources and energy is
spent seeking and destroying very small subcultures of human beings that
pose ideological differences and act on those differences through violence.

Yet, in the United States alone each year, roughly 30,000 people die from
automobile accidents, the majority of which could be stopped by very simple
structural changes. That’s ten 9/11′s each year… yet no one seems to pine
over this epidemic. Likewise, over 1 million Americans die from heart
disease and cancer annually – causes of which are now easily linked to
environmental influences in the majority. Yet, regardless of the over 330
9/11′s occurring each year in this context, the governmental budget
allocations for research on these illnesses is only a small fraction of the
money spent on “anti-terrorism” operations.

Such a list could go on and on with regard to the perversion of priority
when it comes to what it means to truly save and protect human life and I
hope many out there can recognize the severe imbalance we have at hand with
respect to our values.

So, coming back to the point of revenge and retribution, I will conclude
this response with a quote from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., likely the most
brilliant intuitive mind when it came to conflict and the power of
non-violence. On September 15, 1963 a Birmingham Alabama church was bombed,
killing four little girls attending Sunday school.

In a public address, Dr. King stated:

“What murdered these four girls? Look around. You will see that many
people that you never thought about participated in this evil act. So
tonight all of us must leave here with a new determination to struggle. God

We can’t save the soul of this nation throwing bricks. We can’t save the
soul of this nation getting our ammunitions and going out shooting physical
weapons. We must know that we have something much more powerful. Just take
up the ammunition of love.”

- Dr. Martin Luther King, 1963 -
~Peter Joseph

NYT CORRECTION

2011-05-04T19:18:00.000-07:00

Were swaying, not just swaying, I'm just saying.

I'm Wide Awake in a Fake Empire

2011-05-02T03:55:00.000-07:00

The real question is, what else is happening right now? Do not swing and miss at the curve ball they are throwing you, the illusion of a win is simply that, brace yourself and feel what is going on around us with an open heart.

Remember when the river flowed up the mountain?

2011-05-01T14:04:00.000-07:00

Zoo the other afternoon through the old 105mm.

This morning I woke up to a text message and a voice mail, both inquiring if I had heard about the auto hit and run fatality of a human on a bike at 0551hrs near the South End. According to a local news source, the death by vehicle happened predawn on Poindexter Drive near the intersection of Lawndale Road. The victim was Carl Hedrick, a 29 year old who was apparently visiting some friends in Charlotte. After running over the victim, the car driver hit the gas in a conscious effort to run from the truth that he or she created, while two people could do nothing but watch their friend die of traumatic injuries. The car, which has been described as an older light colored Toyota Corolla or Tercel with front damage was last seen headed towards South Boulevard. If you have any information because you are connected to the incident or just searched the cloud over Hong Kong looking for insight, please do what is natural and contact CMPD Detective Kevin Allred of the Major Crash Unit at 704.432.2169.

Seems like I have feelings that are not yet thoughts about this latest cycling related death by auto in Charlotte. In the now, the time that I spend riding my bike for the Monday through Friday daily continues to fill my senses with the authenticity of the experience. While remaining car contact free for the past seven years or so, I never stop thinking about the catastrophic potential energy transfer that could happen if I wind up in front of one from any angle accelerating towards my human form. Just yesterday I was rolling a Saturday Stay Alive into the big buildings to guide 13 riders on a 'Beginners' bike tour of the downtown Charlotte area. It is a route that I am very familiar with, and the closer to town I get, the more options I have to ride a variety of quiet neighborhood streets that all take me to the same destination.

The gentle climb up McClintock Road in the cool morning air under a cloudless saturated blue sky reminded me of some place I had been a long time ago. Random vibrant green topped old hardwoods stood tall up the long sloping landscape, their big round canopies weren't there a month ago and now they were swaying lightly in the early breeze. Rolling by the big church, I thought about going left towards Commonwealth but quickly changed my mind. For whatever reason, this morning I stayed straight with my back to the sun on McClintock for the Plaza on the flat up over the hill.

At ten meters and closing for the stop sign at the Plaza I started slowing down knowing that this can be a precarious intersection to cross. Straight through the intersection I take a gravel parking lot alley to Thomas Street for more options. Most mornings I have to come to a complete stop because of Plaza commuter car cross traffic, but on a Saturday it felt and was quiet. Except for one, one potential killer in a small brown colored sports car coming down the Plaza from way of Central accelerating for a quick turn onto McClintock towards my space, on my side of the stop sign. Yes, at that point in time it was mine.

Slowing the gear still not at the sign but life alarmed, and looking into the approaching windscreen I saw the dark driver's large white eyeballs as he realized he was cutting a corner. His eyes looked surprised, not aware or paying attention at all. A prevalent condition of the auto culture of this fine city. My intuition in complete survival mode not wanting a head on crash at this speed, screamed at him something that I do not remember. He was cutting it so close to his left that there was no where and time space for me to go. Either his intuition kicks in by simultaneously widening his turn right (he had plenty of room, which is where he should have been in the first place) and letting off the gas, or he is going to hit me head on and cause a serious problem.

I leaned right, and he came about wider at speed, we missed by a meter before I even made it to the right edge of the white stop line. There I held up for a second turning to see if he had stopped and was wanting to discuss the matter at hand. Oh yeah, his eyes, his car, his presence in the now are all dead giveaways that he did not give one shit about what had just really happened. My heart rate was up a bit until I made it to Pecan, then the quiet street settled me down with the understanding of how comfortable I felt right then. Tomorrow morning I will go through that spot again, as I will many times forward future.

Condolences to the family and friends of Carl Hedrick, I am very saddened to hear about his death this morning. For anyone who reads this post and is actively following the two wheeled path, please be careful and watch the place that you put your machine and human form, this town is as dangerous as any other American metro and that is not a joke. Like someone smart once tried to instill in me, make every ride count...

Falsetto to Tenor

2011-04-15T17:34:00.000-07:00

Amazing, unlike anything, especially if you were there in New Haven in 1987 only a few feet deep. I want to go here, and recon I will soon while the borders still remain open.

All Hail The Hackerspace Charlotte, Plus Image/Dumb Move of the Week

2011-03-31T17:14:00.000-07:00

So, something sort of unexpected is happening right now, thank my internal being that I gave up expectations when I was seven years old. This unforeseen chance is the end result of a thought made transfer with communication and honesty from one individual to another. Many of you know that an article was written by Karen Sullivan of the Charlotte Observer (which Cedar lovingly refers to as: the wet thing at the end of the driveway) on the Hackerspace's donation of time effort in providing 6 of the ten laptops thus far delivered to Haiti via the Laptop Round Up for the Real.

Well, what was so unexpected was the amount of folks from the greater Charlotte area who contacted us wanting to make a donation, or as most of the cases donations from this one article printed Sunday. Here is the math as of right now according to the high speed encrypted message board that the Treasurer of the Hackerspace set up for the project: Twenty humans have made contact with 38 machines total for the project. As you already know, we have delivered 10 operating Laptops to Haiti as of a few weeks ago. Previous to the article being in the paper, there are 4 machines in the hole awaiting delivery to the not so far away place. 4 of the 38 have already been brought by the Hackerspace hideout by Bill (not me, another Bill), Peter and his daughter Katie. Thank you HSCLT and those of you who became motivated to get a hold of us this week.

Now comes the challenge that I never planned for, yet somehow I feel prepared to handle. There are 34 machines in the county that need to be picked up and warehoused. Once in a safe place which is looking like between my studio here at the ranch and the Hackerpsace's hideout, they will be inventoried and scheduled over the next few months for repair. This is really exciting and leading me to believe that I should form a small delegation willing to travel with me to Haiti soon. The idea would be that we would each be carrying with us computers to be put on the ground there.

In the meantime, the Hackerspace Charlotte is offering an open door Friday night during the North Davidson (No Duh) gallery crawl. The shop will be open to the public and all y'all are encouraged to stop by and say hello, even if you do not have laptop to give. Word is that there will be an adult beverage available and you can check out not only their newest CNC machine, but as well that crazy thing that makes lightening. No tease, you will feel alive once you set foot, or feet into their space, the Hackerspace.

The location: 430 East 36th Street, Charlotte. After you cross Davidson on 36th, just before the first set of tracks, go left around the side of the building and look for the wooden stairs seen above in the image I made this afternoon while looking for my long lost (since Tuesday night) glove. In case you were wondering I wound up finding it as I re-rode my route home the other night. Amazingly enough I found my glove at the 4800 block of Shamrock balled up, and soaking wet. I hate when I loose gear, but love when I find it a few days later after thinking about how the search would play out. For the past few days I have felt like Michael Jackson, now that I have both of my gloves, that feeling should dissipate.

For those of you who missed this little tidbit on my Faceliftbook Page, enjoy, and ask to be my 'friend', that way you will get the sneak peeks. If I knew who you were, I would surely ask to be yours!

Sunday night I injured myself while cooking St. Lissa's and my 19th pre-anniversary diner, that's right diner celebration. The fork had been in the hot grill for many minutes when I picked it up to stick the French Dijon yum bit in need of a test. Then the fork touched my tongue making a loud searing sound branding it deep. Happy Anniversary.

Tongue Con Report: Four days later, my tongue is almost completely healed. The only problem is tasting stuff is hampered, I feel like I have the palate of a 5th grader...

Blogcation, all I ever wanted. Blogcation, had to get away. Blogcation, meant to be spent alone...

2011-03-27T10:12:00.000-07:00

Apologies from the headquarters of Rock and Roll Stop the Traffic regarding my unannounced two and a half week blogcation. Fortunately for both you and I, the time was well spent sleeping in and concentrating on a few other side projects that I find myself compelled to be part of. There is so much more that I have to say and share visually with you, my lovely audience. In time I will crawl out of this block and be posting more regularly once again.

Until then, check out this brilliant piece of work that the Charlotte Observer's Karen Sullivan posted in today's online version as well as the printed Sunday paper edition. In the past few hours I have been privy of the response via my ubiquitous contact at Hackerspace Charlotte. Charlotte North Carolina is helping, the emails are coming in with plenty of folks willing to donate laptop machines. Details, and numbers will be out soon. My former background in and passion for logistics will be quite useful in the near future.

Thank you to all of those who have made a contribution thus far. As well thanks to the Charlotteans who have emailed today with new donations. And of course, none of this would be happening without the braintrust that is Hackerpsace.

Click here to read the online edition or simply scroll down:

Hackers reach out to help Haitian school

Hackerspace Charlotte is restoring laptops to send to a grade school.

By Karen Sullivan
ksullivan@charlotteobserver.com

Posted: Sunday, Mar. 27, 2011

Slideshow

« Prev of 2 Next »

The refurbished laptops are sent to a public grade school in Barbancourt, Haiti. COURTESY BILL FEHR
Charlotte Hackerspace member Ryan Stachurski, center, works with other members of the group at its lab in a former textile mill. COURTESY RYAN STACHURSKI

More Information

Laptops wanted
Hackerspace Charlotte is looking for outdated or broken laptops that can be repaired and sent to school children who have little or no access to technology. Leave a message at www.hackerspacecharlotte.org to make a donation.

Hackers often get a bad rap.
They're often known for breaching computer systems or leaking sensitive information.
Members of Hackerspace Charlotte, an open lab space, want to show the positive side of being creative, independent and tech-savvy. They built five laptops from scrap heaps, cleaned them up and donated them earlier this month to a public grade school in Barbancourt, Haiti.

Now the group is taking donations of working and fixable laptops for a second gift to the school, where most children have never used a computer."It has the potential to do a world of good," Hackerspace Charlotte Treasurer Ryan Stachurski said. "If you have children growing up without technology, that is an essential part of life in this day and age, they're going to have a very significant disadvantage."

The project, called Laptop Round Up for the Real, started when Charlotte blogger Bill Fehr visited the rural community of Barbancourt and toured its grade school. More than 200 children attend the rural school, located about two hours north of Port-au-Prince.

Fehr asked the school's principal what he could bring on his next visit that might help the children. The answer: 15 laptops.Fehr would like to send even more laptops. He wrote about his goal on his blog, whereonearthisbill.blogspot.com.

Members of Hackerspace Charlotte responded.The group celebrated its grand opening in December last year in a former mill property in the North Davidson Street arts district.Its 30 members pay a fee to share the lab. The space allows them to move their personal projects off their dining room tables and into a community of like-minded people.They also can work together on charitable projects such as this one.

Members have backgrounds in engineering, information security, corporate management, woodworking, experimental art and other areas. About eight members helped with the laptop project. They found laptops and hard drives at Southern Resources, a scrap metal processing and recycling operation that's also in the arts district.

The volunteers rebuilt hardware, fixed power supplies by hand, erased the hard drives and installed the Ubuntu operating system.A member of the Haitian American Association of the Carolinas delivered the equipment to the school.

"We've repurposed this trash and put it into use," Stachurski said.
"It wasn't very difficult, it was being persistent. The technical part of putting things together is what we excel at."

Subscribe to The Charlotte Observer.

Read more: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2011/03/27/2169270/hackers-reach-out-to-help-haitian.html#ixzz1Hon3gxuv

Postponement (Post Pone Meant) in the Case against Radok's accused killer...

2011-03-09T16:51:00.000-08:00

My eyephone camera should never reduce the way I see my world.

Jittery. This morning started with not only my job, but real work as well. Paul had given me a tip that the Rule 24 Hearing set for tomorrow in the State of North Carolina v. Antoine Dion Young had been postponed until sometime in April. As a friend of Radok and a citizen of this beloved county, I became curious as to the reason behind the postponement. Of course I am not trying to be lie able or anything, but there is a real connection to understanding the process with the judiciary when it comes to the case of your friend's accused killer.

I did not learn much today other than the Rule 24 hearing that was supposed to happen tomorrow regarding the prosecution's intention to use, or not use the death penalty as punishment for the crime of first degree murder upon a conviction has been postponed until April. Apparently a Rule 24 hearing in State Superior Court, in Mecklenburg only takes place once every month. The date for the April session has not been made public to the best of my knowledge and understanding at this time. As soon as I find out anything else I will be sure to let you know.

Tomorrow I will be giving a 30 minute slide show presentation of my images from Haiti to the MPA's quarterly luncheon meeting. I will be sharing around about 150 images that I made. As well I am prepared to openly discuss the way that experiencing a post earthquake torn Haiti made me feel. My presence will project the need for awareness, and the call to round up some more laptops for the result that is already on the ground and bringing experiences to the few.

It's official, Hackerspace Charlotte, who requests to be shortened to the HSC, like the Humane Society of Charlotte has issued a press release which you can read here. Raquel did a brilliant job of assessing the situation. I like her original letterhead version:

Positivity

2011-03-08T16:20:00.000-08:00

swimming towards an unseen coast in a swelling sea of absolute insanity.

The other day I noticed a Faceliftbook post put up by my friend girl who has been close by my work daily for a better part of the last decade. She is of normal human variety in a sense, southern and straight up. Actually many years ago she asked me to document her wedding up in Lincoln County with my camera, so I wore shorts and brought Mary (German Shepherd) as an assistant and date. Clear Carolina skies and plenty of green earth spread out towards the long tall tree line with its full saturated green tops blowing gently in the wind.

T saw the following little nugget on one of her friend's wall, and because she agreed with the info transfer, she posted it up on hers:

"Charlie Sheen, 47, is all over the news because he's a CELEBRITY DRUG ADDICT! While Andrew Wilfahrt, 31, Brian Tabada, 21, Rudolph Hizon, 22, and Chauncy Mays, 25, are soldiers who gave their lives this week with no media mention. Please Honor them by posting this as your status for a little while, or at least Pray for their families. May they rest in peace. SALUTE!"

Exactly, was my immediate cerebral response. Then feeling kicked in and I had to figure out why I had never heard of these names, or recognized their faces in three dimensions on the movie screen at the front of my mind. You know, like I can do with a celebrity (film or blog, it's both the same), a corporate logo, or a hemlock tree for that matter. The Internet provided answers to a few of my initial questions, however it is limited in visceral capacity to give me what I am really looking for. I feel that it is important to share the identities of the four men named above who died in multiple incidents, in several provinces of Afghanistan between Sunday and Monday of last week. Upon looking in I found out that there should have been five names listed on the post, here they are in alphabetical order:

Rudolph Hizon: This 21 year old was with 2nd Battalion, 30th Infantry Regiment, 4th Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division out of Ft. Polk, La. According to the State Department, Hizon was killed while operating in Logar Province Afghanistan on February 28, 2011.

Chauncy R. Mays: 25 year old Mays was with the 63rd Explosive Ordinance Disposal Battalion, 20th Support Command out of Aberdeen Proving Ground, Md. According to records, Mays was killed on the ground in Wardak Province Afghanistan on February 28, 2011.

Christopher Stark: Stark, 22 years was in the same unit as Mays, the 63rd Explosive Ordinance Disposal Battalion, 20th Support Command out of Aberdeen Proving Ground, Md. He too lost his life on the same day (February 28, 2011) as Mays while fighting on behalf of America in Wardak Province Afghanistan.

Brian Tabada: This 21 year old soldier was with the First Battalion, 327th Infantry Regiment, First Brigade Combat Team of the 101st Airborne Division based out of Fort Campbell Kentucky. According to Defense Department records for the public, Tabada was killed while carrying out combat duties in Kunar Province Afghanistan on February 28, 2011.

Andrew Wilfahrt: Wilfahrt was a 31 year old MP with 552 Military Police Company, "The Peace Keepers". According to Lt. Colonel Matt Garner, public affairs Officer for the 8th Theater Sustainment Command, Wilfahrt was killed while on patrol in Kandahar Province Afghanistan on February 27, 2011.

As I went a bit further into the binary cloud I did see a path start to emerge out of the liquid crystal display, it got worse and was somehow even more frightening. According to multiple sources including the AP: On Tuesday March 1, 2011, at 11:30am local time, troops in a U.S.-led coalition Helicopter opened fire with machine guns and rockets on nine children collecting firewood in the Pech Valley, Kunar Province Afghanistan. The nine boys ranged in age from 7 to 13 years old. Regretfully my search to locate the identities of these small victims dying in their now was fruitless.

Appoligies have been sent through the diplomatic channels, but it sound like they have fallen on deaf ears from what I can tell. Hundreds took to the streets in Kabul the very next day to exclaim their hatred of those, which is us who are responsible for the deaths of the innocent young. The rhetoric from Hamid Karzai to President Obama through Commander of Operations, General David Petraeus took a hard line straight through the end of last week. Karzai was quoted with stating to Petraeus that, "Apologies are not enough." I am not sure what that actually means, however I do know this; this one incident, this one example of what detachment from rules of engagement actually manifests, creates more enemies in the now than you could ever imagine existed just ten years ago.

To me the deaths of the soldiers and the children being hit in the middle of the day seem intrinsically attached. As with ego based pride (we are conditioned that pride is good), the minute that the look inward reveals to any human willing to accept how easy it actually is, what is truly going on will stop, and in its place will be the reality of being. Until then, it is all a complete nightmare so scary that it is almost a parody of itself as it plays out before me.

Major Developments in the Laptop Round Up for the Real

2011-03-05T15:12:00.000-08:00

Grinning profusely seems to be the common denominator as Luiguuy picks up five lap tops recently brought to life by some gracious folks at Hackerspace Charlotte. One of those who gave plenty of time and brain power to this latest drop was Ryan, seen below using his powerful intellect to generate resplendent levitating balls of light. Projection, this kid has it mastered.

My contact approached a few weeks ago after considering the Laptop Round Up for the Real. With confidence and the calm of a CIA agent on the ground in Iran during the American initiated coup of Mossadegh, Ryan informed me that he had an idea that would help the Round Up's goal of raising laptops for the primary school mobile computer lab in its infancy.

These laptop machines are something that we take for granted, I thought to myself as he described that he was part of a local organization dubbed, Hackerspace Charlotte. Part of his network includes another entity identified as, Southern Resources, a local organization that has been looking for a chance to help out an international community in need. Ryan explained that this could be a perfect match once the channels were authenticated on all ends. If he could get the support of the vendor, HSC would devote the time, resources, man/brain power and commitment to get the machines up and running with clean operating systems.

So, just a week and a half ago armed with some of my images and words, a letter from Luiguuy and his ever present power of projection Ryan went to meet with Mark at the Southern Resources. The meeting went well, and within an hour there was agreement that HSC was allowed to come and grab a first run of six laptops out of the ubiquitous 'bin'. As fate would have it, in full synchro style Luiguuy was getting ready to depart for Port au Prince with a small delegation on Friday, March 4. The timing for this good news could not have been more perfect.

By Thursday morning, after many hours of running back and forth from the Hackerspace ops center to the warehouse, Ryan and his cohorts were able to fix four of the initially picked up six, plus the Sony VIO that Brian (random kind bachelor citizen) donated by fully letting go with faith. The three of us met at 0900hrs in an open air cafe near Dresden, I mean Charlotte. Ryan brought the goods and Luiguuy brought the smile as well as the transfer that the computers getting to the community is really a big stride forward in progress for the people who everyday live the experience of Haiti. He explained that if the people are to understand technology, to even have a chance, they must be able to experience it. The big picture playing on the movie screen in my mind was crystal clear at that moment taking me back down the dirt track to Barbancourt. I have seen that living the situation in Haiti daily is different than any perspective from here based on solution or judgement. The moment of reality is always now when it truly counts.

Yesterday, the day after our successful outdoor cafe meeting, Luiguuy arrived in PAP with the laptops dispatched amongst his travel companions. He then connected with his colleague, Pastor Lyonel at the Haiti Mission in the capital. These five laptops, plus the first run of four bring the grand total to nine that are now in the loop on the ground in Haiti. This week I have three more arriving by mail from my 'Ph.D.' Student friend up north and east of here. Those three and the two left from the Southern Resources original pick up means that five more should be ready for delivery within the next two weeks.

Huge THANKS to Ryan, the Folks at Hackerspace Charlotte and Mark from Southern Resources. Your efforts are recognized and will have an impact on the future of a small community in Haiti.

Please send me a laptop and I will hook you up.

Message from St. Lissa and Doulas of the Charlotte Area-DOCA

2011-03-01T04:57:00.001-08:00

Over the last few weeks there has been a lot of talk up in Raleigh about the laws related to the practice of midwifery in the State. It is presently not legal for a licensed midwife to assist a mother in a home birth, however it is perfectly legal for that mother to go it alone, without the care that a midwife can provide. The state law that is in place now is due to lobbyists working our senate and congress on behalf of the insurance companies and other 'big' business in the medical industry.

St. Lissa asked that I post a few of her words and as well a press release regarding the march at the State Capital in Raleigh scheduled for tomorrow.

As many of you know I am attempting to leave the Corp World/Stock Market behind to continue on a new journey as a Doula. What is a Doula you may ask? Doula is Greek for "caregiver" usually to woman. My main function as a Doula is to give emotional and physical assistance to a woman in labor. Laboring women who use Doulas tend to have shorter labors, a lower rate of Cesarean surgeries, a lower rate epidural or drug use, less medical interventions and less postpartum distress. dona.org

There is a newly formed Doula group in the area, Doulas of the Charlotte Area (DOCA) www.doulasofthecharlottearea.com, I would appreciate your help in spreading the word. We also have a blog that Bill has posted on his side bar blog.doulasofthecharlottearea.com. . As a group we are trying to make a difference in our area. Cesarean rates are skyrocketing, new mothers have higher rates of postpartum depression then ever before and interventions are being used unnecessarily. A Doula can make a difference, I have seen it personally and have saved a new mom from a cesarean that was never needed.

Birth Freedom March – Wednesday March 2nd at State Capitol in Raleigh

RALEIGH, NC (February 28, 2011) – Midwife and home birth supporters from around the state plan to gather at the Capitol on Wednesday March 2nd at 10:00 am, and march to Jones Street ending at the State Legislative Buildings in support of licensing Certified Professional Midwives, and expanding access to care for North Carolina families that choose midwifery care and the home setting for birth.

“Right now a fully trained and credentialed Certified Professional Midwife who can legally practice in Virginia, Tennessee, South Carolina and Florida is at risk for being arrested for providing the same quality care in North Carolina. This is not right, and makes North Carolina home birthing families less safe,” said Russ Fawcett, Legislative Chair for North Carolina Friends of Midwives. “Hopefully, the North Carolina General Assembly will recognize that the safety of NC home birthing families is at stake, and they will pass legislation to license CPMs with purpose.”

A Centers for Disease Control National Health Statistics report released in March showed a five percent increase in demand for out-of-hospital midwife births in 2005 across the United States. In North Carolina, homebirths increased by 32 percent from the 2003-2004 period to the 2005-2006 period analyzed. This new data increases the urgency for passing the current pending legislation in North Carolina to license and regulate Certified Professional Midwives (CPMs).

“Now more than ever it is crucial that North Carolina’s home birthing families have access to trained midwives,” said Russ Fawcett, Legislative Chair for North Carolina Friends of Midwives. “Midwife attended planned home births have dramatically increased in North Carolina in the past few years. Each year, more North Carolina families choose out-of-hospital birth for many reasons. These families deserve safe and affordable maternity care, and the midwives who provide it deserve legal recognition.”

Currently, there are no laws in North Carolina to regulate CPMs, who deliver babies in private homes and freestanding birth centers. Studies show that low-risk women who plan home births under the care of CPMs have outcomes equal to low-risk women who deliver in the hospital, but with far fewer costly and preventable interventions. A study commissioned by the Washington legislature found that during the last five years alone, the state’s licensed midwives saved taxpayers and private insurers more than $10 million.

Consistent with the medical literature on the safety of home birth under the care of Certified Professional Midwives, the CDC report also found significantly reduced rates of pre-term and low-birth weight in out-of-hospital populations. Certified Professional Midwives, who specialize in promoting optimal maternal health and who deliver the majority of U.S. babies born in private homes and freestanding birth centers, provide intensive, individualized pre-natal care that focuses on prevention and risk assessment. The authors of the report identify appropriate risk assessment as a likely factor in the reduced rates of pre-term and low-birth weight in out-of-hospital settings.

North Carolina Friends of Midwives is a grassroots organization of midwife advocates dedicated to promoting, supporting, and protecting midwifery in North Carolina. North Carolina is a priority for The Big Push for Midwives Campaign, representing tens of thousands of grassroots advocates in the United States who support expanding access to Certified Professional Midwives and out-of-hospital maternity care. The mission of The Big Push for Midwives is to educate state and national policymakers about the reduced costs and improved outcomes associated with out-of-hospital maternity care and to advocate for expanding access to the services of Certified Professional Midwives, who are specially trained to provide it. Media inquiries about North Carolina Friends of Midwives should be directed to Russ Fawcett at (910) 471-5187, spigget@aol.com. Media inquiries about the Big Push should be directed to Katherine Prown (414) 550-8025, katie@thebigpushformidwives.org.
--

All Bets are Off

2011-02-25T05:01:00.000-08:00

This photo was made in November by Oli Scarff/Getty Images.

Quite telling indeed, a slice of time just a few months ago with a relaxed cool smile as if life were actually good, and not a series of real awareness transfers. Now, right now, independent reports coming out of Libya are saying that the death toll of Libyan citizens at the hand of Qaddafi (seen above with the same hand held by our commander in chief) and his military is well into the thousands, with thousands more injured.

All bets are off. King Abdullah stands to the right and behind President Barack Obama. Photographer unidentified.

King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia recently returned to the Arabian Peninsula after being abroad receiving the world's best medical treatment for that which ails him. That means he was out of the country early last week when he ordered the 50 mile pull back of the Saudi Arabian border with Yemen and the evacuation of around about 100,000 Saudis. Those paying attention in Germany are aware that Yemen's American backed government and military are finished, it is down to a matter of only a few weeks. Once that happens, Saudi Arabia is logically next. At that time all bets on oil prices are off and within hours crude could easily hit $200-300 In God We Trust Units a barrel, or 6-7 at the pump if it could be found at all.

The King knows this, as does the rest of the world. In an effort to change the now, the King recently announced that he was throwing $35,000,000,000 at the problem. That's right $35,000,000,000 (with a 'b'), has been given to the Saudi people by their King in the form of benefits supporting the four pillars of life. Something like 20,000,000 Saudi citizens are qualified to start applying for what is in it for them. The list of benefits is long, as you can imagine with the account holding $35,000,000,000. Just one example of the new plan that started yesterday: If you are a Saudi citizen anywhere in the world, you can walk into any University and receive your education paid for by the monies the King has put up. Monies that has come from the sale of oil.

Saudis in general should be okay with this plan as they move through life trying to figure out what they can get. The question is, what about all of the extremely poor immigrants living in Saudi Arabia doing the jobs that the Saudis do not want to do, like trash removal, landscaping and so on? That class of human will not be part of the $35,000,000,000 Arabian Bail Out. Will they simply sit back and watch everyone else prosper or will we eventually start hearing about protests in Saudi Arabia? For sure we will not be able to miss that one when it happens because we are obviously intrinsically attached to the outcome, we have been for a long time.

Transfer

2011-02-23T17:28:00.000-08:00

Meet Gabriel, like the archangel in the first book ever written as a true collection of the experience of being, just being and being okay with how that being state makes you feel.

Of course I would find this Sudanese fellow (thanks to Jwaye, a word I learned in Haiti), the way the open door takes me when I just ride towards it, not planned, for I do not con troll it, I am merely making my way through it. Keeping up is not difficult, choosing not to is. I want you to meet a shaman as well, that way feelings will be embraced, not shunned.

When Gabriel was six years old in 1986, he was recruited by the army in the south. Three years later, whence he was nine (three years younger than Mein Schatz), he was shot in the left hand by the enemy. When I asked him who the enemy was that shot him, he responded, "The north, of course." Gabriel's AK-47, or better yet 7.62mm wound through the hand gave him transfer to London where he was healed. Then he found his way back to The Dark Continent to continue the fight that had killed his father before he wound up in the USA via Havana, Cuba. There is so much more, however the 5th dimension diminishes all of us, no matter how cool or winner we think we are. This one may take time, but I will bring you the story of a lost child of the Sudan in the near future. First, Gabriel and I are going to share some Injera and Awaze on the morrow, then I will get back to you, my lovely audience.

MUSTACHE RACE

2011-02-22T17:26:00.000-08:00

This shot was made sometime during spring of 2000 at the gates leading into Brevard Court, one of the oldest sections still remaining in Charlotte North Carolina. The photographer is presumably retired CMPD Officer Jimmy Horne's daughter, however that has not been confirmed.

And the Winner is, Jimmy Horne with the white lip. For whatever reason Charlie is reportedly happy with his loss as evident with the shit eating grin on his mug. Grinning like a mule eating briars, picture that metaphor for a moment. As a side note, up until recently I thought the saying was, like a mule eating broth. Thank goodness Swazy corrected me for the umpteenth time on that one. For the last I dunno, like twenty years or so, every time I used that phrase, I just kept visualizing a large mule sipping on a white ceramic bowl of broth. Go figure.

Southend Walk About

2011-02-21T16:47:00.000-08:00

Image of the Week

2011-02-20T16:40:00.000-08:00

From left to right: CMPD Officers Mike 'Cooch' Cucinella and Charles Walker.

The Header Image you have been looking at for the past little bit has been this shot I made on Officer Walker's last day on the beat. To me it is an interesting close up and very real perspective of two public officers of the law, a generation apart. Black and white adds to the contrast of a fraction of a second in time at a specific place, in this case the exact heart center of Charlotte North Carolina. These guys are the real deal and have built their lives around a profession that I am glad others are getting paid to do.

Bike Friendly Multiple Choice Pop Quiz Thursday

2011-02-17T04:12:00.000-08:00

Yesterday midday I spotted this bicycle being ridden multiple times up and down the 100 block of North Tryon. Hundreds of successful young professionals were out and about enjoying a glimpse of the fair atmospheric condition. Back and forth, forth and back. Seeing, and being seen seeing.

Question 1: After riding up and down one block of the Charlotte Uptoon scene during lunch hour yesterday, why did Little Hat leave his bicycle locked perfectly parallel to Tryon in front of the Ivey's Building?

A.) He knew that I have a Hipstamatic Camera App for my eyephone.
B.) The color scheme on the bike matched the Qdoba almost perfectly.
C.) This rider just scored a part-time job slicing tomatoes at Qdoba and he plans to use his front wheel as the tool for his newly acquired trade.
D.) Little Hat (Cooch's nephew) has been tasked with an undercover operation designed to show how cool it is to lock to an actual bike rack instead of the benches or other random city property.
E.) All of the above.

Yesterday as well, I found this little two wheeled bute locked to one of the racks provided in front of the Mecklenburg County Courthouse.

Question 2: What reason(s) did this dedicated local cyclist give when I asked him about the functionality of the standard leaf rake attached to his bike?

A.) I had a rake, some electrical cord, and a small amount of duct tape, the rest is creation.
B.) For Halloween I was a male witch, brooms are for women.
C.) You've seen how much those SKS fenders retail for, this rake did not cost me anything and it works, sort of.
D.) Someone tried to tell me that cardboard is two words.
E.) All of the above.

For playing today I present to you, an IMAGE BONUS even though it is low eyephone quality: Cryo-Fish me a river. Recently Ms. Arcen was camping out in the country at her little friend's house. While she was gone, one of her orange fish made the inner light transfer and wound up at the bottom of the tank completely dead. I felt bad because a few years ago that little fella was actually birthed in the tank it now rested in. So, in an effort to be sure that Mein Schatz could make closure with the death of her small scaly cold blooded friend, I took the body from the tank and placed it in a small glass of tank water. Then I placed the glass in the freezer and by the next morning wallah, I could show her the body and she could keep it as long as she wanted. This spring we plan to set the fish cube out on the stone wall to give the cats something to figure out.

This Week's 'In case you missed it'

2011-02-16T04:58:00.000-08:00

A Marine carry team moves a transfer case containing the remains of Cpl. Lucas T. Pyeatt, late on Feb. 7, 2011 at Dover Air Force Base, Del. (AP Photo/Steve Ruark)

According the the Defense Department, two days prior, on February 5, 2011 Cpl. Lucas Pyeatt was killed in Helmand Province Afghanistan while conducting combat operations. Pyeatt was with the 2nd Radio Battalion, II Marine Expeditionary Force of the 2nd Mar Div based out of Camp Lejeune North Carolina.

Sean Finnegan once stated, "The real question is, what else is happening right now?"

Synchronicity is all around me, it is constant and infinitely powerful. On Monday February 7, a friend of mine was flying back to Charlotte from Phoenix Arizona. While the oblivious masses boarded the plane at the gate, this friend looked out of the window and saw a cardboard protected coffin being loaded. As the box made its way up the conveyor into the hold, a Marine in dress blues stood silently on the tarmac and slowly saluted his comrades ascension. The Marine in dress blues then quietly boarded the plane himself. There was no announcement made to the passengers of this flight from Phoenix to Charlotte. Most of them were too caught up in whatever separation decoys that they create to notice their own awareness, let alone what is really going on around them. However, I am confident that several folks, including my little buddy were smart enough to make the connection that the body of a U.S. Marine killed in our latest war was flying with them. I am truly glad that I was not on that flight in trade of what it actually was. With my life experiences thus far and the way I see and feel what is really going on around me, there is a chance, a true possibility as I imagine being there, that I would have pulled the crazy card and walked off the plane before it even took off.

When my friend returned from his trip, the story about flying with two Marines was the first thing he mentioned. It took me some time, but by that afternoon I had identified the only Marine body that was returned to the east coast on February 7. Once in Charlotte, Pyeatt's body would have been turned over to the 145th Air Lift Wing of the North Carolina Air National Guard for the final flight to Dover Delaware.

To the family and friends of Cpl. Lucas Pyeatt, as well as the rest of the world, I am completely sorry that war in the name of it all has taken Lucas away. I am sending energy your way and have thought about his sacrifice every day since I learned of it.

CMPD Retires a 30 year veteran and an Honest Cop

2011-02-13T07:25:00.000-08:00

On Friday, after all of the public ceremony celebrating the end of his 30 year career with the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department, Charlie Walker gave me some standing time to make this portrait of him.

Earlier in the day, a few minutes before noon, friends and curious public surrounded this officer of the law which brought out that amazing smile that Cedar referenced.

Half a minute before high noon, Charlie steps out like Gary Cooper on The Square to stop traffic for the last time on duty.

At precisely high noon, in the exact center of Charlotte North Carolina, Cooch, his giant replacement officially takes The Square beat from Charlie with a handshake, grunt and a Salute that I missed with the shutter because I was too busy wiping the tears off of my face.

With another smile and a light foot Charlie steps off of his beat for the last time of his career.

It was July 3, 1998 when I rolled into town with my first job on my back after spending the previous eight years on the right corporate track. On Tryon, at Stonewall stood two officers watching me fumble at the red light. I watched them for a minute. They were squared away in clean uniforms, their badges and belts glistened in the sun. It occurred to me that they were scanning me as if they did not know who I was because they had never seen me before. At that point I thought to myself, It might be a good idea to go over and introduce yourself. So I did, and within a minute I met Charlie Walker and Jimmy Horne.

Eye contact, and real communication led to the discovery of a friendship within the confines of a city where we both operate the sources of our living. You'd think that a relationship between a police officer and a bicycle messenger might be a little stressed by the differences in work responsibility. Not in this case, not one bit. From that very first day I talked to him, Charlie seemed to hold what I was doing with the same respect I felt for the job that he was doing.

Of course I realize that donning a bullet proof vest and strapping on the loaded .40cal daily to go to work requires a ton more testicular fortitude than I could ever imagine mustering myself. However, there is something potentially life threatening about being on bicycle in the asphalt nation as well, I felt like Charlie got it. Over the years as I watched this officer of the law walk his beat, interact with people and enforce the letter of the law when need be I gained an honest respect for the man and the position that he held.

Congratulations Charlie, for completing 30 years of honorable service in such a dangerous line of work!

*Blog Author's note to all fauxsengers drawing attention to my career choice in the greater Charlotte area:

Charlie Walker's replacement is Cooch, he is over eight feet tall and can shoot balls of fire out of his arse. If you are riding around uptown and see him, you may want to think about introducing yourself. Really talking with a cop could start a relationship that lasts for years. I know this for sure, I have already experienced the phenomenon first hand.

STOP

2011-02-11T17:55:00.000-08:00

Of course I mean, PRIDE in the name of love.

Intrinsic Obsolescence-Reality Check

2011-02-11T04:13:00.000-08:00

Well, it's Friday and my job is so thoroughly enjoyable that I wish Monday was tomorrow. In three sessions yesterday I was fortunate enough to see the new Zeitgeist film, Moving Forward. To me, the first Zeitgeist film was completely brilliant and reaffirmed some of my feelings related to the big picture, the one I can see when I take a step back and simply look at it for what it is. Feeling what is going on around me is no conspiracy, nor is having a thought based on that observation.

This second film is quite telling as well. Different than the first, Moving Forward picks up in the now to see just how far progress has actually brought us towards the future. Not us as individuals but as a collective culture existing on earth, a closed finite resource. I do not want to give away too much about this film or sway you about it. Instead, I highly recommend that each and everyone of you take the time to watch the document and make your own connections to what is really going on around us. Oh, and of course if you missed the first one, it is available as well and as far as I am concerned is a must see. No particular order of viewing is recommended...

–noun German .

the spirit of the time; general trend of thought or feeling characteristic of a particular period of time.

Check out this smart handsome fellow with white paws. Here is the email note exactly as I received it yesterday afternoon. Sorry for the crappy image, I did not take it, I am only sharing it. If you or anyone you know can help with a permanent safe home for this guy please contact me at whereonearthisbill@gmail.com and I will connect you to the source. A soldier is going away and needs our help. Please spread the word, this is a really smart dog.

FREE BOXER:

10 month old boy boxer. Neutered. House trained. Comes with crate and all toys. Free.

Owner in military, leaving for desert.

Fate and Transfer

2011-02-10T18:32:00.000-08:00

Mubarak is about to die in Egypt, just like he claimed with ownership and control. You are most certainly right little buddy, thinking is useless. I say feeling is where it's at...

Laptop Round Up for the Real Report, PLUS, well, I am not sure but it is related to more Urban Wild Kingdom

2011-02-09T17:17:00.000-08:00

This morning, the regularly smiling Luiguuy met me in the same turnabout that he did just a week and a half ago.

The drop off and pick up today totaled one old Compaq that needed a bit of a boost as well as 100 In God We Trust Units. Shannon A. Warded this project her machine and her friend not to mention all around AWESOME(like the strap) guy King Jimmy threw in the Benjamin note. Both of the drops to Luiguuy theoretically equal, three functioning laptops, one desktop hard drive and 100 US Dollars to go towards the operating expense of such a transfer. There is a man leaving this Friday from Miami that will carry the hardware to Pastor Lyonel in PAP. From there, the Pastor will take the machines out to Barbancourt.

Recently I have been in contact with a local organization notably called, Hackerspace. One of their ambassadors, a fine bike riding fellow has agreed to help with the ongoing project and may have access to a pallet load of laptops for donation. You may be hearing and seeing a lot more of this group from the Queen City. When the aliens finally attack and the internet goes down, my contact has assured me that he will create a network that will have allow me access to the Traffic Stop. Luiguuy himself, and perhaps myself as well will be heading to Haiti at the end of March. It would be nice to have luggage full of some more laptops that will help provide a primary school with a computer education lab that presently is just forming. So, send me a laptop and I will hook you up with some lint from Dicky's dryer, free of charge.

As for the Wild Kingdom Part, I lost the image I made of the evidence which means you were NEVER supposed to see it. But trust me, it was bad. Normally I would go into a way too descriptive detail about what I saw, not this evening.

Ms. Arcen was baby sitting a few small Spanish speaking children in the bright sunlight of our back yard the day before yesterday. All of a sudden she called for me and asked for my help in getting the young'uns away from the round metal table that they were about to have a snack on. The completely oblivious wee ones wanted to know what was going on, while I watched my kid remain calm and tell them, "Trust me, you don't wanna know."

They had not seen what Mein Schatz had seen. When I arrived, just as my brave child had relocated the picnic of nuts, water and grapes to the barn, I saw something very disturbing. It was a sun cooked pile of our cat Yancey's vomit upchuck. She is fat in the winter, skinny in the summer and yes, she is named after Yancey Ridge, the first place I went riding in the mountains a long time ago. In the top left of the medium solar radiation cooked mucous accumulation was a mouse's head, almost perfectly intact. The head was bodiless, only entrails and a small amount of brown stuff connected the front bit to the hind quarters, which were almost perfectly intact like the head and face whiskers. Honestly, I almost puked. However there was no emotional sadness transfer because the creature had been dead for hours inside the cat's gut. Long dead for sure. Sorry I lost the image that I had created for your viewing pleasure.

The cat has been reprimanded, but for certain she shall kill again on the morrow.

Speaking of Yancey, the killer of creatures smaller than she is...bitch ass cat.

Innovator of the Month

2011-02-08T04:37:00.000-08:00

As you can imagine, this job offers an extraordinary and mobile look at the culture of a modern city in America. The other day, whilst sitting on one of the large comfy chairs made of a former cow's hide in the lobby of THE Bank of America's Corporate Center not eating or drinking, I spied this approaching citizen pulling a plastic bag over their head. By design, this one plastic Harris Teeter shopping bag winds up in the landfill, then it is carried by a strong westerly breeze and upper air currents all the way to the coastal waters near the shore. There, a confused turtle thinking that the translucent entity floating in front it is a delicious jellyfish tries to swallow the bag. Alone, with no one there to witness, the once happy turtle chokes and dies. In the meantime, shopping is convenient and easily thrown away by the million daily. And, as an added bonus, in a pinch without the thought of consequence, the throw away becomes active protection for those worried about the condition of their hair.

Upon closer inspection it turns out that the Traffic Stop's Innovator of the Month is a guy. His hair must be better than mine.

otherwise

2011-02-06T18:10:00.000-08:00

–adverb

under other circumstances: Otherwise they may get broken.

34F and Rain blowing constant

2011-02-05T08:02:00.000-08:00

This image came out of my digital tray from late 2009.

From my perspective as a bicycle messenger, Friday was theoretically as winter season painful as it gets while on the job. Consecutive late summer days of car exhaust hate Code Red over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit can hurt as well, but nothing compares to yesterday's all day combination of just above freezing temperatures, and cascading wind blown rain. While riding around covering the schedule and an occasional call, the wet is fairly easy to keep off of my torso. Within minutes though, the rain runs down my exposed legs below my knee contacting three layers of socks. After another few minutes, my feet are wet from the inside of my socks all the way outward to the saturated shoes perpetually rotating basic wind chill forward in the 34F rain. Not long after my feet become that cold and wet, they hurt sending messages to my brain housing group to shift thought on to anything else.

Like my hands for instance. No matter how hard I try to keep them warm, dry and happy, they too become victim to the cold water. It takes a little while for the rain to get passed my gore over mitts and thick windproof fleece mittens, but when it does it will remain against my hands for the rest of the day. My face cheeks are rosy red wet popping out from under the hood of my jacket, and I am conscious of my hands as I spin my way down the hill to the courthouse again. But, at least they do not feel as bad as my feet. Once again my feet are telling my brain to please consider anything else at that point.

Coming to my mind this time was Egypt, and a few of the things I learned about the present situation there and how I am connected to it. We have all heard the news, and if you haven't by choice please know that it is still really going down and each of us on the planet, especially here in this fine nation are directly attached to the now in the not so far off Middle East. According to an article I read in Wednesday's Wall Street Journal titled: Cairo, U.S. Blindsided By Revolt, written by Charles Levinson, Margaret Coker and Jay Solomon, on Friday January 28, Mr. Mubarak contacted his his Interior Minister, Habib al-Adly and ordered him to authorize the use of live ammunition to put the rebellion down.

Prior to reading that little nugget, I had understood through other western media, not media sources that the Egyptian military on the very same day had clearly stated that it would not fire on its own people. What I did not get at the time was that the military announcement was a direct response to Mubarak's order to shoot real bullets at real people in real time. Journalism, in all sense of the word is over when I look at it and see it for what it is.

Another interesting thing that I learned about Egypt this week came in the form of a thirty minute transfer I had while sitting in my friend Abdu's cab. His purple mini van was parked first in the stand on Tryon when I climbed into the back bench seat. "Welcome my friend", Abdu said with a smile extending his large dark hand, "I knew you would be looking for me." His soft Arabic voice is older than mine by two decades, the same amount of time that has passed since he first came to this country. Abdu is from the city of Suez Egypt where many members of his family still live.

I asked him for the truth, and he started by saying that he has been in contact with his family every day since the shift started. Abdu explained that the people of Egypt will not back down, even in the face of their own death until Mubarak and his entire government regime are gone. "It is not only Mr. Mubarak that must go, the Egyptian people demand that the entire government from top to bottom must be replaced", Abdu stated. In that wonderful authentic accent Abdu went on with an analogy by picking up the paper coffee cup out of the console in front of him. He pointed to the lower part of the cup and said, "If there is a hole in the bottom of this cup it cannot contain the liquid, it must be replaced, otherwise it is useless."

Hearing him talk about the real situation in Egypt was an education in itself. The people of Egypt are smart and well aware that the United Stated gives the Mubarak government over a billion printed dollars annually. Their question is, where is it? What has happened to all of that money over the years as the majority of the Egyptian people cannot find work or afford the basics like food and education. Mubarak has been running the show since Anwar El Sadat was assassinated by fundamentalists in October of 1981. I was twelve years old that day and I can clearly remember the film footage of that event and how it made me feel.

Over the past weeks, the governments of Lebanon and Tunisia have fallen from their status as strict allies to the American-Israeli led west. King Abdullah of Jordan has denounced his present government and replaced the Jordanian Prime Minister in preparation for what his coming his way. Now the Egyptian Mubarak pro-American government is finished. Israel has remained quiet thus far, as has the Muslim Brotherhood, the largest and oldest political group in many of the Arabic states. These opposing forces seem to be waiting without rhetoric before making their move, as the entire middle east and world prepares for a post Mubarak government in Egypt.

The reasons that I am connected to this problem as a tax paying citizen of the United States are many. From the military industrial complex providing the Mubarak government with armed F-16 fighter jets flying over the heads of their own people to the annual billion dollars in American aid monies that have not helped anyone. The list goes on. But, one of the most basic connections I feel to the middle east region is gas. Liquid petrol and all the freedom it provides with war, death and hate. As these countries leave their alliances with the west I can only imagine that the price per unit will rise because of the potential instability of new governments. Could it cause an effect on all parts of the American economy, such as food, transportation, and so on to the point of civil unrest here? Would our government allow that to happen, and what is their ultimate plan to deal with the loss of allies in the region and control over it?

A shift is upon us yet again, this one is big and that is just the beginning. Cold rain on a Friday is nothing when I actually take the time to consider how it makes me feel.

Image of the Week

2011-02-03T04:30:00.000-08:00

Yes, this simple image is all that I have for you this morning. No lengthy words or run on sentences today, just this shot I made of the square in downtown Charlotte North Carolina.

NC Superior Court Rule 24

2011-02-01T16:22:00.000-08:00

ANNOTATED RULES OF NORTH CAROLINA

a member of the LexisNexis Group.

*** THIS DOCUMENT REFLECTS CHANGES RECEIVED THROUGH NOVEMBER 1, 2010. ***

*** ANNOTATIONS CURRENT THROUGH JULY 30, 2010. ***

GENERAL RULES OF PRACTICE FOR THE SUPERIOR AND DISTRICT COURTS

N.C. Super. Ct. Rule 24 (2010)

Review Court Orders that may amend this rule.

Rule 24. Pretrial conference in capital cases

   There shall be a pretrial conference in every case in which the defendant stands charged with a crime punishable by death. No later than ten days after the superior court obtains jurisdiction in such a case, the district attorney shall apply to the presiding superior court judge or other superior court judge holding court in the district, who shall enter an order requiring the prosecution and defense counsel to appear before the court within forty-five days thereafter for the pretrial conference. Upon request of either party at the pretrial conference the judge may for good cause shown continue the pretrial conference for a reasonable time.

   At the pretrial conference, the court and the parties shall consider:

      (1) simplification and formulation of the issues, including, but not limited to, the nature of the charges against the defendant, and the existence of evidence of aggravating circumstances;
      (2) timely appointment of assistant counsel for an indigent defendant when the State is seeking the death penalty; and
      (3) such other matters as may aid in the disposition of the action.
   The judge shall enter an order that recites that the pretrial conference took place, and any other actions taken at the pretrial conference.

   This rule does not affect the rights of the defense or the prosecution to request, or the court's authority to grant, any relief authorized by law, including but not limited to appointment of assistant counsel, in advance of the pretrial conference.

HISTORY: Adopted April 7, 1994, effective June 1, 1994.

CASE NOTES

RIGHT TO BE PRESENT NOT IMPLICATED. --The pretrial conference required in capital cases by this Rule takes place before the jury panel is selected and sworn and is not a stage of the trial; thus, defendant's right to be present at every stage of his trial was not implicated by Rule 24 pretrial conference. State v. Chapman, 342 N.C. 330, 464 S.E.2d 661 (1995), cert. denied, 518 U.S. 1023, 116 S. Ct. 2560, 135 L. Ed. 2d 1077 (1996).

AGGRAVATING CIRCUMSTANCES. --While this rule requires the trial court and the parties to consider the existence of evidence of aggravating circumstances, nothing in the rule intimates that the prosecution must enumerate with finality all aggravating circumstances it will pursue at trial, nor can a trial court require the prosecution to declare which aggravating circumstances it will rely upon at the punishment phase. State v. Chapman, 342 N.C. 330, 464 S.E.2d 661 (1995), cert. denied, 518 U.S. 1023, 116 S. Ct. 2560, 135 L. Ed. 2d 1077 (1996).

THE PRETRIAL CONFERENCE IS AN ADMINISTRATIVE DEVICE intended to clarify the charges against the defendant and assist the prosecutor in determining whether any aggravating circumstances exist which justify seeking the death penalty. Capital defendants do not stand to lose or gain any rights at the conference. State v. Chapman, 342 N.C. 330, 464 S.E.2d 661 (1995), cert. denied, 518 U.S. 1023, 116 S. Ct. 2560, 135 L. Ed. 2d 1077 (1996).

FAILURE OF DISTRICT ATTORNEY TO APPLY FOR CONFERENCE. --As a sanction for the district attorney's failure to timely file a petition for a pretrial conference, the trial court exceeded its authority by prohibiting the state from seeking the death penalty where defendant was charged with first-degree murder. State v. Rorie, 348 N.C. 266, 500 S.E.2d 77 (1998).
   Prosecutor violated N.C. Gen. R. Prac. Super. & Dist. Ct. 24, 2001 Ann. R. N.C. 74. by failing to hold a special pre-trial conference where defendant had been charged with first degree murder. State v. Matthews, 358 N.C. 102, 591 S.E.2d 535 (2004).

   Because defendant failed to show sufficient prejudice resulting from the untimeliness of his conference under Gen. R. Pract. Super. & Dist. Cts. 24, 2009 Ann. R. N.C. 21, to warrant declaring his cases noncapital, the trial court's rulings permitting the cases to proceed capitally were proper. State v. Defoe, 364 N.C. 29, 691 S.E.2d 1 (2010).

   The 2001 amendments to the capital sentencing statutes, amending G.S. 15A-2000(a) and enacting G.S. 15A-2004, revoked the statutory mandate that provided the rationale for the North Carolina v. Rorie, 348 N.C. 266, decision which result in trail court's having the inherent authority to enforce Gen. R. Pract. Super. & Dist. Cts. 24, 2009 Ann. R. N.C. 21, by declaring a case noncapital in appropriate circumstances when a defendant has made a sufficient showing of prejudice resulting from the State's delay in holding the Rule 24 conference. State v. Defoe, 364 N.C. 29, 691 S.E.2d 1 (2010).

TRIAL COURT EXCEEDED ITS AUTHORITY. --Trial court exceeded its authority under N.C. Gen. R. Prac. Super. & Dist. Ct. 24 by declaring a case noncapital based upon the court's view of the insufficiency of the evidence of defendant's guilt regarding the underlying charge of first-degree murder. State v. Seward, 362 N.C. 210, 657 S.E.2d 356 (2008).

CITED in State v. Morgan, 359 N.C. 131, 604 S.E.2d 886 (2004).

For the previous five days, I have spent what seems like hours on the Internet searching for a legal description of the Rule 24 Hearing as it applies to the prosecution of the accused in a first degree murder case in North Carolina Superior Court. Last night I finally gave up and determined that the rule was not available to be seen anywhere on the ubiquitous cloud over Hong Kong designed to guide us only where we need to be guided. A few of my contacts within the legal and judicial systems were able to give me their interpretations of the what happens during a Rule 24 Hearing, but like you, I wanted more. I wanted a real document describing what a Rule 24 Hearing actually means.

This morning I spent time in a law library and with the help of a caring and most beautiful librarian sporting an ankle length black wool skirt, I was able to produce the document above from one of those many books lining the walls and filling the shelves in the confines of the little chamber. As you can see clearly at the top of the page, the copyright belongs to Mathew Bender & Company, Inc.

I have read through the rule as presented and the case notes provided. Quietly I suggest that you do as well. The most interesting discovery I made about the Rule 24 Hearing came in the first sentence. There shall be a pretrial conference in every case in which the defendant stands charged with a crime punishable by death. Punishable by death, death, which in the true meaning of the word has already manifested into a reality that each of you are aware of, and feeling.

Laptop Round Up for The Real Update & a stupid thing happened while I was on a mountain bike trail ride

2011-01-30T16:49:00.000-08:00

Luiguuy, originally from Haiti met me uptoon on Friday to collect the first three computers donated to the Laptop Round up for the Real.

Two of the computers on board in the backseat of Luiguuy's first generation minivan from the late seventies came from Indianapolis and were sent in by Bill Williams and his wife. The third one in the big brown box was gifted by Rob C., and carried on the back of my little buddy who is about to use a photo of my wayward cap as some sort of blog ante upping. So, on Friday three of the twelve committed laptops thus far started the journey towards Barbancourt north of Port Au Prince. Over the next month to six weeks I will be meeting Luiguuy again to drop off the rest of the donations in groups of three. I am short of my goal, but what I am learning is that without barriers, it always works out. This project for on the ground real nuts and bolts help is moving forward, send me a laptop and I will hook you up...

Real Ride Story to Unbelievable to be True, but it is.

Early today I lifted my perpetual ban on paying to ride at the U.S. Brown Water Center. Just one time I would give five in God we trust units to spend three hours on my mountain bike alone in the woods that I rode first a long, long time ago. She took my cash, the paper nickle then under those heavy power lines I drove. I could feel the electromagnetic pulse of a mcmillion kilowatts diving down towards ground through the roof of my UN Montero and my skull.

Holy shit, this place truly cracks me out. I jumped on the bike within a few minutes of arriving realizing that this was going to be a fun three hour transfer. On the way to the 'trail head' half way under the wire crossing a small amount of voltage, or is it amperage jumped from my gloved fore finger on my right hand to the brake lever I was about to touch. Yikes, that burned like a six volt on the tongue or a bit worse. Yeah worse. Pay to park and be zapped, that should be their toon jingle.

Then onto the ride, it would have to get better right? The weather was perfect, no one was there because they were all racing their little hearts out or cooling it up over at Renaissance. Down and under across, my first lap started with Metallic in my ears streaming constant on the mountain top removal battery up load. Fast, like a machine gun from the old days. Not as fast as I felt, around the lap fighting it the whole way to the new green trail which offered nothing technical at all, however I found the extension a pastoral gift I had not seen before.

One of the many few things good about riding alone is that after an hour and a half without stopping you can go around again without even putting a foot down. Time passes slowly after the first thirteen miles and the sun moves at least a thousand times more in an outward push from its beginning. Back around this time I finally saw and passed some people on bikes traveling the trail. I was fighting with too much effort, sweating too much, and having to stand up on the climbs way earlier than I was used to.

Then it happened. About half way around on my second lap with a slightly loopy head, I stood up on a short inside left steep and my small right ear phone pumping Micheal Jackson's, Annie are you okay that I misheard over and over as Annie are you walking into my brain housing group fell out and onto my shoulder. I could hear my surroundings for the first time since I left after plugging myself in the form of an active decision to separate myself from the sensory world around me. And what I heard was the most annoying thing you could imagine.

It sounded like resistance, in the form of a brake pad against the front disc. I decided to wait till I got to the top of the climb for the second time in a day to make the inspection. It was sad. I spun the fat tire wheel forward and watched in shock as it ground to a halt in about three inches of rotation. You have to be kidding me, I first thought to myself, no wonder why this ride has been more difficult than an afternoon at Catawba is supposed to be.

When I looked down the problem became visually apparent, my front wheel was not all the way in the fork. That's right, I had tightened the wheel in and it was not straight at all. It looked like the lawyer tab on the right side had gotten in my way when I was bent over the bike putting the wheel in. And I, oblivious with the sound of music in my head brought my own disconnection to the world around me.

Ultimate Bike Shop for the fix. New tiny Spacers, and zero'ing the pistons makes for a happy front brake.

One of the down sides to riding alone is that there was no one there to laugh at me and my lack of awareness other than myself. The hundred year old or more smooth bark American Beech Trees at the river front are absolutely amazing.

Rule 24 Hearing Date Set

2011-01-28T15:28:00.000-08:00

On Wednesday afternoon, the Mecklenburg County District Attorney's office sent a request for a Rule 24 Hearing in the case of The State of North Carolina vs. Antoine Dion Young(11CRS201626) to the Chambers on the ninth floor of the courthouse. The request was granted with the signature of the first available judge, then it was returned to the DA's office. Within twenty fours hours the DA notified the criminal clerk and public record that the Rule 24 Hearing date has been set for March 10, 2011 at 9:30am in courtroom 5350 of the Mecklenburg County Courthouse.

My contacts in the legal world tell me that it is very important for Radok's friends to attend each hearing related to the case. The system works when it recognizes the truth, I have seen it many times first hand. And, the truth is that Chris was an amazing human who did not deserve to be killed in the vicious manner that he was. Please pass the word.

It has also been suggested to me that perhaps it would be a good idea to contact the department of Court Watch that follows first degree murder cases. Early next week I will look into that unique entity and pass whatever information I find along to you.

This is just the beginning folks. I have learned that there are no fewer than seventy murder cases in Charlotte awaiting trial. Violent crime, in this case murder is happening at such a rate that the system cannot keep up with the problem. Even though the criminal court moved into a newer and larger facility with more staff not long ago, there are still not enough prosecutors and judges to handle the amount of violent criminal cases being brought to them. The smart men and women prosecuting this crime need our help by being patient and in attendance at all of the future proceedings.

True Bill Discovery

2011-01-26T16:41:00.000-08:00

Last night I was doing research on the mechanics of a grand jury when I discovered a few interesting things. The grand jury has been around since the good old days and was designed to keep the public involved with and aware of the court proceedings when the most serious crimes were committed.   These days perhaps because of the constant volume of violent crime, especially in large metropolitan areas, the grand jury has become regular simple formality, a rubber stamp of sorts in the judicial process.

The second thing that I learned is that when the grand jury determines that there is enough evidence to indict the accused and send the case to State Superior Court, a written document called a true bill is created then made public.

The following definition of true bill is from Merriam-Webster.

true bill: a bill of indictment endorsed by a grand jury as warranting prosecution of the accused.
*The true bill was first used in 1766, before America officially existed.

Another definition of true bill that I found at the Free Dictionary by Farlex(what ever the heck that is).

true bill: n. the written decision of a grand jury (signed by the grand jury foreperson) that it has heard sufficient evidence from the prosecution to believe that an accused person probably committed a crime and should be indicted.

Early Wednesday on my first stop to the Mecklenburg County Courthouse, I found out through the criminal clerk that the true bills from Monday's grand jury in the State vs. Antoine Dion Young were available to the public. Within a few minutes I was handed copies of the three true bills that you see posted here below.

Each one describes the indictment on three separate charges. By clicking the image it will become larger for easy reading.

Please note that these are scans of the true bill copies and they appear exactly as they were when they were handed to me. I made several other findings today, but hang in there because I am still researching and that means I will need until tomorrow to get confirmation of my analysis before I go to post.

Grand Jury

2011-01-25T04:01:00.000-08:00

The scene in the lobby of the Mecklenburg County Courthouse yesterday morning as Gabrielle Macon explains to the friends of Radok that the murder case against Antoine D. Young has been sent to a Grand Jury.

Sketch interpretation courtesy of Sarah Pollock.

Sarah and I walked into criminal Courtroom 1150 yesterday morning just before nine for what was supposed to be Antoine D. Young's second appearance, a defense motion for a Bond Hearing. The deputy in the front faced the packed room, he was very familiar to me because I often work in the same building that he does. In a soft south southern drawl that sounded like someone in the movies, he slowly stated the rules that were to be followed in the courtroom. Towards the end of the practical list of what not to do in his courtroom, the deputy talked about his expectations in case of an emergency while the court was in session. If the alarm was sounded to evacuate the building we were to calmly follow his instructions and then him with the guarantee that he would lead us to safety.

Minutes pass, it was warm on the verge of hot in the chamber, and there was an aroma in the air of winter coats and human bodies. Not repulsive body odor, simply a human smell not hidden or covered up with cologne or product. I watched the yellow light hit the walls and human forms of those sitting sitting tightly close together in the wooden pew-like benches facing the front of the courtroom and the judge's bench. There were plenty of Radok's friends sitting to our left, they took up more than one of the rows. Even though I could not see them, I could hear the jingling of shackles on the men and women just on the other side of the wall and door that led to the penalty box on my right. They were in complete custody waiting to be led in front of the judge for the crimes they were accused of committing. Those in red in the front row were there as volunteers representing, Court Watch. Maybe they were there for Radok, I thought to myself with the complete realization that my hyper active imagination sometimes gets carried away.

At exactly 0915hrs my friend the deputy asked the courtroom to please rise for Judge Regan A. Miller, we all stood without thought as the criminal business of the day was called to order. Within a minute we were seated again and the activity across the attorney's line began to pick up. I tried to pay attention to as many details as possible in an effort to pick up on who's who, and what would happen next. Above all sat the judge, his taught face giving away his education and life experience. Without warning a tall angelic woman in a black and white checkered suit stepped forward and quietly asked for those who were there in support of the victim, Chris Radok to please meet her in the back of the courtroom. Over a dozen of us stood up and followed her out through the heavy wooden double doors into the main lobby foyer of the Mecklenburg County Courthouse.

As instructed, we formed a close semi circle around her and the man with credentials around his neck. She introduced herself as Gabrielle Macon, the Assistant to the District Attorney who would be prosecuting the Young case. Ms. Macon then introduced the man with her as Bill Stetzer, the head of homicide investigations for the DA's office. She went on to explain that the bond hearing would not be taking place because that morning the case was headed to a Grand Jury. Once the Grand Jury sees the evidence she was confident that the case would be sent up to Superior Court for trial. Ms. Macon then let the group know that the next hearing, a Rule 24 Hearing may happen as early as February 10. Quietly she confirmed that the Rule 24 Hearing is the start of the process for the prosecution to seek the death penalty as punishment for the capital crime of murder. In this case it is the murder of Chris Radok.

It was interesting to see the prosecution reach out to the friends of Radok present yesterday morning. As someone in the group pointed out to Ms. Macon and Mr. Stetzer, "The only family Chris has in the States is right here." Obviously there is plenty of focus on the proceedings of this case, legal justice is the only thing that any of us can expect because ultimately no result will bring Radok back. Without any feelings of vengeance towards the accused, I will continue to follow and share with you the events that take place with this case all the way to the end. None of this came my way by choice or my own control and I realize that clearly. It is important for me to face this tragedy and do whatever I can to bring awareness to those around me. There are many problems in society today, our now is blighted with desperation and lack of focus collectively on individual human power and beauty. The look in may reveal to the masses that they have infinite power to use this one chance on earth in this form for something other than self destruction and throw away waste. During a small side discussion about our society's present condition yesterday I brought up the thought that Radok was a victim of the Social War that has been escalating in our nation for years. One of his brilliant friends quietly smiled and then almost laughed a giggle under the sadness of death. She spoke conveying that if Chris would have been here and heard us talking about him being a casualty of the Social War, he would have rolled his eyes and immediately walked away. How true.

Grand Jury

2011-01-24T07:00:00.000-08:00

Bond Hearing Cancelled
Asst. DA just informed us that this murder case is headed to a Grand Jury this morning. Details to follow.

Woodlands & Pomegranate Wine, Plus Image of the Week and a few other Items.

2011-01-23T08:42:00.000-08:00

A painting, a picture, a poem or a feeling. Yes, of course her face is apparent in three different positions in this two and a half second exposure that I made while on a walk through the woodlands of Uwharrie last Sunday. For this shot I used the old 55mm manual lens. The camera was mounted on the Nathan Sprinkle Fabricated monopod which was planted firmly in the thin top layer of the earth's surface. If I remember correctly, towards the end of the exposure still looking through the glass, I pulled back on the camera slightly without moving the ground end of the monopod. The pull back was not intentional or thought about, it was more like a feeling, a natural reaction to her moving towards me up the trail.

2.5 second at F22/ISO 100

Uwharrie Death Trails last Sunday. Ms. Arcen, Jeff, Grace(not only a name for a girl, as well it is a thought that could change the world) and I walked out Daniel and back in under two hours and forty five minutes. There was plenty of climb for such a short hike, over 1,250ft gained. And, the surface condition in spots was an awful mud clay butter. Despite such, it was a great few hours in the woodlands.

On the backside of Daniel as we were descending, a large wooly man approached on a small horse, an American Paint. He was wearing denim overalls under a thick brown corduroy long coat, his thick beard looked like no less than two years of growth. Meeting and passing the man hollered at us wanting to know if we knew where we were because he wasn't sure where he was. "Of course, let me show you on my map", I said walking down over the loose gray rocks towards the man and his wide eyed Paint. The man had his own map almost identical to mine, and when I used it to show him where we were standing, he reached into his coat and removed a hand held GPS unit similar to one I had seen before. He explained that he was trying to get to The Uwharrie River. I showed him on his map that meant all he and his Paint had to do was continue on up, over and down Daniel across the parking lot at the trail head. When they crossed the fire road at the entrance to the dirt gravel lot it was a short descent down to the river. Strange transfer to be position orientating a human(and his horse) in the woodlands who had both a map and a satellite linkup.

Here are my three hiking partners descending Daniel on the way out.

The Bogen tripod in use. This recent Header Image is a thirteen second exposure inside the side lobby of the Hearst Tower, a place Uptoon that rarely gets photographed. "I just want to make a picture of the eagle, is that okay", I asked the friendly familiar G4 Security agent that has seen me proxy my way into the building since the day it opened. "Just the eagle, go for it", he responded. The camera was already on the Bogen, so I picked a spot and opened up the tripod raising the head to eye level. Most people walking by were conscious of the camera and would try to avoid crossing the shot line. No go ahead, I just want the scene to remain constant, without interruption, I am not even here, I thought to myself and would gesture silently with the wave of a hand as if I was actually getting my feelings across. From this spot I made three images. In this one, you can see the apparition of a human walking by undeterred by my camera and tripod.

13 Seconds at F6.3/ISO 100

Tomorrow morning I will be in Courtroom 1150B of the Mecklenburg County Courthouse to witness the Bond Hearing for Radok's accused killer Antoine D. Young. The murder happened two weeks ago and I am starting to let go. Sometimes things happen that are too big to carry and too big to let go simultaneously. Over time and the continual deep look inward, it is possible to release and surrender to the fact that control over any of this is an illusion at best. Looking into the criminal background of just one 29 year old male in this town has led me to the discovery of what I already knew simply by paying attention and feeling. Understanding that there are thousands of these violent criminals lurking around town is a simple task. Seeing them occasionally, making eye contact and acknowledging the severity of their crime just by what they tacitly exude is real energy. No separation from that here.

The Dal Bhat Sanji is not on the menu, but if you ask, they will fix it because it is the chef's original creation~

BIKES

2011-01-18T15:07:00.000-08:00

Honestly, I cannot stop thinking about what happened to Radok. Here are two images that he made of the Charlotte Bike Scene over the years. This first one that Chris shot running backwards on Tryon in December of 2002 is my most favorite Courier Image ever made. From right to left: Rich Dillen, Nathan Sprinkle, Josh 'My Rookie' Neeley and me. Interestingly enough, today three of the four of us are still following the Two Wheeled Path here in Charlotte as our livity source. The Odd Ball Out is Nate(with red arms), who is presently in Belgrade Serbia goofing off with a pretty girl named Nela. Oh that's right, I think they call it Blej(sounds like Play) in Serbia, not goofing off.

To the best of my knowledge Radok made this picture of me on an inbound East Side Stay Alive Commute in the fall of 2005. This time Chris met me in the light rain on his brand new bike and we rode together for a few hours. The interesting thing about this composition is that he swore he did not photo shop enhance the Vastus Medialis in my left Quadriceps femoris muscle. And, I swear that I have never been on a 'medical program'.

Earth Colored Eyes has put out a second post.

Death Transfer & The Infinite Power of Synchronicity

2011-01-17T08:02:00.000-08:00

I made this image of the rabbit's frozen solid body on Monday afternoon roughly twenty hours after its life force died in my arms.

On the eve of Radok's murder last Sunday, a few hours after dark, I followed my kid and the dogs outside to see if the snow had started yet. The freezing cold air in the form of a light wind hit my face and hands under a completely black sky as we made our way deep into the out back. There was no snow yet, however it was coming. My eyes struggled to make out the four dogs as they sniffed around under the trees in the pitch darkness. Zoo's white coat stood out a few meters to my right front, she was looking deeper into the blackness as if she could see something that I could not. The dog was perfectly motionless with her ears perked leaning forward and her nose in the air. Ms. Arcen was behind me headed to her tree swing with one of the other dogs. The mood was light. It was obvious that the approaching snow storm would cancel work and school for the next day which would allow us to go play in it.

The Husky was still for the moment. I stared at her faint figure for another minute or two, and just as I was about to ask her, "What is it girl", she bolted with a forward lunge instantly pulling herself into an instinctual sprint. A second later she was gone, disappearing into the void of darkness in front of me. Another few seconds pass and then a short but shrill scream hit my cortex. Dammit, I thought to myself as I hurried towards where the dog had ran. I pulled out the little flash light on the phone in my pocket and cast the light out ahead. A tiny bit of that photon energy caught Zoo's clear eyes lowered to the ground, level with the rest of her body.

When I saw what was at the end of the dog's out stretched front legs I may have yelled, "No!" Over the top of the dog with one leg I pulled her back blocking the victim with the other. "Zoo get", I shouted, and she did as I turned my attention to the adult rabbit lying on its side at my feet in the cold air. Its huge black eye ball rolled around once and then looked up into the dim blue light emanating from my phone. Immediately I did not see any blood, however something was horribly wrong, the hare's body was twitching frantically. The rabbit's back was broken at a 90 degree angle between its front shoulders and hind quarters, its head was almost touching its tail.

Just then, Ms. Arcen shows up realizing that something bad had just happened. Understanding is the key to feeling and what she felt she did not like. She screamed something at the Husky and took off chasing her back to the house. My kid lost her bearing for those initial seconds disappearing into the sanctuary of her home leaving me alone with the broken animal at my feet. Less than a minute had passed since I arrived to where I was now standing.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and reached down to pick up the dying creature. It was heavy, warm and liquid limp paralyzed from the hit of a killer. Cradling it in both my arms, I pulled the warm incredibly soft furry animal into my center Chakras. All living things are powered by an electrical pulse of light at our quanta, the core center of our being. When I held the rabbit against my body I could feel its electric pulse against mine. It almost felt like I was pulling the rabbit inside my human form, our center lights mingled. Surrounded by cold darkness I recognized the rabbit's electrical center as weak and fading, it must of felt mine completely strong and very much alive not dying. Minutes pass as I hold onto the rabbit tightly not letting go or running away, but looking in and feeling the natural course of death. The rabbit's light pulse finally fades out disappearing completely as mine rings loudly and echoes off of the tall line of shadowy hardwoods in front of me.

I was frozen in time for maybe another fifteen to twenty minutes after the life passed from the rabbit's body. It was a strange feeling, no more cold or fear of agony. Just silence and a connected feeling to the energy around me. Could I walk away at this point? Yes, the power came and with a thought I turned around and made my way back towards the house alone with the dead rabbit still pulled snug against me. When I got to the barn I placed the body carefully on the roof over the rows of stacked firewood.

As soon as I walked into the house and the light of the kitchen I realize with sight that there is a pool of dark red, almost blue blood in the palm of my right hand. The blood covered my entire palm below my fingers and above my wrist. It was already starting to coagulate on the outside edges of the circle. A voice spoke breaking the silence, "Wash your hands." So then I did under the warm water that took the deep red blood down the drain. I watched the liquid blood disappear in the warm water and wondered where on the body it had come from.

On Monday afternoon, the day that Radok was murdered I went to the barn while snow was still falling out of the sky and dug the rabbit's frozen solid body out from under five or six inches of powder. Without saying anything I made a digital image of the body, then I carried it to the out back fire pit where I set the body down in the snow. I got a fire going with the use of some fallen Hemlock boughs and other limbs. Next, I stagger stacked several big chunks of split Pine forming a pyre in the stone framed circle. When the flames got high enough, I laid the rabbit's body across the top logs.

Natural cremation, the rabbit's form makes transfer from physical body to rising smoke. I watched closely as the heat first melted the eyes that had looked up into the beam of my flashlight the night before. Then after the eyes disappeared as liquid evaporation the fur started to burn shrinking the body right in front of me. There was no repulsive smell or thought, this spiritual event was running its course and there was no denying that I was part of it. As the powerful flame heat continued so did the reduction of the animal's body. Within thirty minutes of being in the fire, the vessel that carried the soul of the animal was no longer visible. All that was left rose into the sky in the form of white smoke drifting upwards towards the now lightly falling snow and cloudy sky above.

On Tuesday Morning I went out to the fire pit and discovered that a few of the bones had survived the heat.

Bond Hearing January 24

2011-01-13T04:52:00.000-08:00

Antoine D. Young, the accused killer of Chris Radok. We(as friends of Radok) must remain completely focused over the next few weeks and months. It is very important that each of us are aware of the Judicial Process that will take this case to trial. I have seen Justice Served when the court is presented with the entire truth related to a crime. Please join me at the Mecklenburg County Courthouse on January 24, 2011(I will post specific time and room number soon) to witness the Bond Hearing of our friend's alleged killer. Check out Antoine's most recent record by clicking here. Learn as much as you can about this individual's identity, he is most likely responsible for Radok's untimely death.

Arrested Person Image
Name : YOUNG, ANTOINE D Arrest#:
Alias: PID#: 228424
DOB: 05/29/1981 Race/Sex: B/M
Height: 5'11" Weight: 170
Arrested: 01/10/2011
At:21:40 By:CMPD
Address: CHARLOTTE NC 28205

Charges for Arrest #: 1480535
Court Case Arrest Type Charge Description Bond $ Amount Type Arrest Process
1007355601 MISDEMEANOR 8599 FAILURE TO PRO 500 SECURED ORDER FOR ARREST
1120162601 FELONY MURDER NO BOND WARRANT
1120162701 FELONY ROBBERY WITH DANGEROUS WEAPON--INDIVIDUAL (FELONY) 35000 SECURED WARRANT
1120162801 FELONY LARCENY OF MOTOR VEHICLE (FELONY) 20000 SECURED WARRANT

Radok Portrait

2011-01-12T13:09:00.000-08:00

I found this portrait courtesy of Jacqueline Heer this afternoon on The Chris Radok Memorial Facebook Page. Not sure if this is a Jacqueline made shot or if it is a self portrait, either way the look on his face is classic and exactly how I remember him. Thanks for the transfer Madame Heer.

Neutrality Kills

2011-01-12T04:52:00.000-08:00

I found myself inside the barely staffed Mecklenburg Courthouse yesterday taking care of a small amount of work when I received a text message that Chris Radok had been murdered. Since that moment, through the now, the magical instant before me I still feel the shock of hearing such a tragedy. Sorting out the details will take awhile, however I am patient in these types of matters and already have my nose to the ground in an effort to not only understand, but to make sure that Radok's killer is brought to justice and his murder is not simply labeled the 'first' of 2011 in Charlotte and then swept cleanly under the rug. The victory society aided by local media not media often uses sporting labels to mark an incident or action in an effort to separate themselves from actually accepting how the outcome created makes them feel. The feeling I have right now is a sick realization that I will never see Radok alive again.

This is what I know as of this morning. On Monday, the day before yesterday 29 year old Antoine Young, a convicted felon with multiple prior criminal convictions broke into Radok's house. Chris came home while this habitual criminal was still there and a confrontation ensued. According to my source close to the police, Radok died from blood loss caused by multiple stab wounds and defensive injuries. In that situation I imagine Radok to have not given up easily. He was a tall man with plenty of life experience to know that the seconds before him were an immediate time to defend himself with everything he had. When the Medics arrived they could not save him, he was pronounced dead on the floor inside of his home. Young was arrested at his father's house on Enfield Road by a CMPD VCAT team later that night. Antoine Young has been charged with Radok's murder.

I first met Radok in Late 2002 shortly after he contacted me regarding a photo assignment that he was given to work with me and several of the other messengers in town. Sam Boykin was writing a cover story for the Creative Loafing about what we do and how it makes us feel called, The Two Wheeled Path. Radok's job was to make the images that would support the article. If memory serves me right, it was snowing lightly the day he came uptown and introduced himself. Chris was a tall man, skinny with huge eyes and an articulate skull, there was something about him that was authentic and genuine. I immediately felt like I could be myself in his presence. He was real. The shoot took several hours as we moved around town trying to get 'the' shot. Radok was very physical on the job, I remember him running along side of me a few times with that wide fish eye lens. At one point he was actually running backwards in between the parked cars and the lane I was in rolling towards him. His huge reach was extended holding the camera above his head pointed down at me as he made the picture. When that work was done he thanked us for being easy to get along with and he told me that we would get together soon and look at the images. He had me over his place off of 8th Street a few days later to give me a sneak peek at the pictures before they went to print. That was the kind of man he was.

Over the years Radok and I worked on at least one other photo assignment together and we became friends who often shared a coffee and conversation about the world, bikes and photography. Radok, you will be truly missed.

ACHTUNG PEOPLE
From Cedar Posts:

You can help: Police are searching for Chris Radok’s 2001 Grey Jeep Cherokee with NC license plate WPH-5769. Should you see the missing Jeep please call 911 or 704-432-TIPS. Anyone with additional information regarding this crime can also call Crime Stoppers at 704-334-1600.

Powder Froze to Granular

2011-01-11T05:09:00.000-08:00

More images taken by Justin Engel yesterday at the 'BIG' Hill Park off of Parkwood. Here you see the Bluders and I enjoying the small nuances of a winter day in the south.

On your mark, get set, MUSH~

All morning the snow was fluffy dry powder.

White wash.

I went out on the mountain bike last night after 2000hrs. The snow con had changed to granular packed after some ice pellets fell from the heavens earlier around the twilight hour. Work is back on today, I cannot decide whether to take the normal direct drive work bike or my fat tire mountain rig. Stiction over disc brakes seems to be my answer.

Justin Case, You Missed It

2011-01-10T16:18:00.000-08:00

From Left to Right: Mein Schatz, Zoo, Rommel and myself shot by none other than Justin Engel whose Dad and I have suffered a few times together. This kid has an eye, for sure. Merry Christmas everyone...

Uptoon Pictorial-The Juggler

2011-01-07T04:49:00.000-08:00

Heffrey belled me up a few weeks ago to let me know that he found a gem for me amongst the trash being sold at a junk store out east of The Jar. I could tell by the ecstatic and borderline crazy tone in his voice that he was pumped to have found such a piece of pro level equipment. It was a slightly used(the rings around the little rubber boots on the legs are in perfect condition as if they have never touched the floor) Italian Made Bogen Professional Tripod. The best part of the deal was that the lady only wanted one In God We Trust Unit in trade, 1.08 after tax. So, he hooked me up and dropped the Bogen off the other day. What an incredible replacement to the piece of crap yard sale tripod that I have been using for years. This Bogen is solid. It feels like it is connected to the molten center of the earth when the legs are out and the camera is mounted to the head. The action is fluid, smooth in all directions without any play. A big thanks to Heffrey for looking out for me on this one. I will be more likely to shoot from a fixed position now that I have a professional grade tripod.

After my work was over yesterday, I loaded up the new tripod, camera and a few lenses into my bad and set out on an Uptoon exploration to find something interesting to make pictures of. Almost every day it seems like you can find a variety of characters on or near The Square. On this day The Juggler and his colorful glittery liquid balls caught my eye.

In between juggles I asked The Juggler if I could take his picture.

He said that was no problem, especially if I gave him a dollar or two.

The Juggler was from Fayettenam NC where he said he was taught to juggle by the best.

He was able to throw the balls underhand backwards so that they would come over the top of his head to the front.

Always looking at the object with focus.

This artist was a calm concentrating soul.

Through the glass lens I occasionally thought I saw him talking quietly to the balls as they levitated in front of his face.

The present header image.

Maria Says, "P is for Park People!"

2011-01-06T04:41:00.000-08:00

Meet Humane Society of Charlotte property Fraser(snoozing) and Balsam. Within the context of this image, these two baby Boxers appear more cute than is physically possible. However, there has been no trick photography or photo shop work done on the picture, the pups are actually that cute. This brother and sister pair stayed with us for a two week foster over the holidays and are now back at the HSC, ready for adoption.

On the drive home after dropping the babies off, I got held up at a stop light on HWY 24/27. While sitting there still I noticed an out of the ordinary movement to my left, the object was coming towards me. I looked in that direction and saw a small car rolling out of the gas station parking lot and into the right lane of westbound traffic. The driver of a small green on coming car hit the brakes, and then swerved right around the back of the unmanned auto just barely missing it. That must of gave him a woody feeling all over. The ghost driven vehicle kept coming slowly, but definitely for the middle lanes causing at least two other drivers to brake hard and go around. When the free rolling car's front wheels hit the cement center island, the car bounced a bit, then starting rolling backwards towards the gas station it had came from.

By this point I was able to free my eye phone camera from the inside pocket of my messenger bag which was behind my seat. I took these two pictures as the car was rolling back towards the sidewalk. The car owner, whom I suspect had run in to pay for the gas when the car initially rolled away was now chasing down his property. Off camera, he jumped in and safely maneuvered his rig back into the station's lot. As scholar Grant Baldwin noted about this incident, "Everyone was unscathed, it sounds like. Ah, the fine line between hilarity and tragedy." How true. From the perspective of a cycling pedestrian who travels that shitty corridor almost daily, I have been once again reminded of the inherent dangers of powering through our victory society. Be careful out there folks, auto viper people seem to be in a big hurry these days, and it is costing them more than ever before.

Mein Schatz Goes BLOG

2011-01-03T16:06:00.000-08:00

"Dad, I want you to to take a picture of me with my hand on this huge rock. I am not going to smile, this is a serious situation", Ms. Arcen said to me the last time we were at Crowders Mountain.

I once read that a Blog is born every half of a second. If that is the case, I wonder how often they die.

MAJOR TRAFFIC STOP ANNOUNCEMENT: Ms. Arcen enters the world of Blogging with the launch of Seeing the World through Earth Colored Eyes. For the record this was her idea, not mine and I am supporting her effort by helping her understand the critical nature of story conveyance through the blog medium. She plans to update once a week or so as she sees fit and I will help her with that manifestation. The kid has always had something to say and here is her chance to share those thoughts turned to typed words. I invite you to check in on this 6th grader's perceptions of the world around her, maybe she will give you a touch of youthful transfer as she does me pretty much every day. You can find her on the right side of my blog as Earth Colored Eyes with the rest of the characters under the list: My Little Friends and Other Strong Humans. I do wish her luck in keeping up the effort required to transfer a story and develop an interested audience. If you take the time to follow her page she will smile and her eyes will cross with joy.

Now, as for the Traffic Stop. Christmas is finally over, but have no worries, it will be back soon enough. This time of the year hurts me more than I am ready to admit. Everywhere I turned since around the week before Halloween were reminders of what a wonderful time of year this is. Really?, I would think to myself as I kept seeing these huge glistening and glittery festival balls all over town. Just yuck, plastic Chinese made and shipped reindeer antlers on the shiny auto vipers whizzing by pissed and in a mad blind hurry to get where ever they are going in the name of the season. I can feel that Holiday entropy as if I were responsible for it all by myself. Sometimes those antlers blow off the windows and wind up in the gutter for me to ride by and see. Do you know how many times I had spotted such seasonal throw away in the weeks leading up to the big day? Many, I tell you. The sad part is that the first few times I spotted these deer antlers in the street I would look around for the rest of the deer carcass until I made the connection that it is just trash, everything is fine, nothing is really dead other than the planet.

Yes, the Christmas work up worked on me. So, I bought the kid a bike, a real special Gary Fisher bike that I will share with you soon. She has ridden it twice and soon I will give you her first trail report. As often happens I digress without negative context, like being side tracked when someone says. "Free Beer." Now, back to the point. I have been slack for the past few weeks, sporadic at best. For that I apologize and plan to get back on the regular dose of crazy talk supporting the adventures in life that I see and feel both on and off the bike. Today was on the bike, commute and job style.

The Laptop Round Up for the Real is going well with two weeks to go. I had an amazing meeting with an IT human from one the firms I work for who gave me some positive news that will be confirmed soon. Updated contribution numbers will be posted by the end of the week that will surprise even my biggest skeptics and naysayers. Please continue to keep this grass roots project in mind because it would be really nice to exceed the goals of the drive and be able to deliver more than the 15 machines originally requested. Remember that according to the Crisis Caravan, the only way to get something done, is by dropping all barriers and doing it.

Maybe one last Christmas Image for your post Christmas enjoyment. A blown white balance shot I made in Dooleyville on the evening after Christmas Day reminds me of what the Holiday will look like after the Nuke goes off. Caesium Sky...

Long December Snow

2011-01-01T07:37:00.000-08:00

Out in the way back, three of the four big dogs frolic under the snowy boughs of the grand winter Hemlock.

White and black Day after Christmas image, a winter dogwood drawing attention to itself.

Night time, on the edge of Loch Dooley.

Blown shot, but Rommel's emotional transfer still comes through with snow on his nose.

2010-The Year in Review with an Image a Month

2010-12-31T07:25:00.000-08:00

*Late Edit:Mike Garzon took the August picture of my sliced open foot with my eye phone. Sorry for any misrepresentation.

January-The year starts off with the Ian Foyster Memorial Ride and the Great Holey Knee. Important safety tip: When descending over land on a cross-bike, focus on the terrain 3 to 10 meters out in front of your line, not on the mad skills of the fixed geared rider ahead of you.

February-Iran in Charlotte is where I met Nasrin and her amazing group spreading awareness about the human rights abuses being committed by the Islamic Republic of Iran.

March-Yu Sebata from Chima Japan rolls through the Jar after leaving Los Angeles a month earlier. Yu knew some English and did his best to translate the Japanese word for Bicycle, Self Pedaling Car.

April-On Tax Day, The Tea Bag Party rallies on the front lawn of the old Mecklenburg County Courthouse. Check here for the full Tea Bag pictorial. This image is the most telling one I made during my Tea Bag Transfer. It is quite interesting, the small nuances lead one to consider our now and the progress everyone keeps talking about.

May-How could we forget May? It was the month that I went into the wrist irons shortly after arriving on the scene of my Rookie's 'accident'. Less than a few hours before that while shooting the NRA Convention I was reunited with SSGT Karnes, an ole Marine buddy from Golf Company 2/4, The Magnificent Bastards. We had not seen each other since June of 1991. For the Courtroom Verdict read here, it is a great story. This is the only shot of the bunch(other than the one of my cut foot) that I did not take myself. Photo Cred: James Wilamor, CLTBlog.

June-Let the cloud emotion transfer commence.

July-Seriously, I get side tracked easily, especially when I look up.

August-Pain is temporary, chicks dig scars and the glory remains forever. Honestly, I am well aware that every physical pain is directly connected to an emotional imbalance. This wound to my foot is a perfect example of that energy truth. photo taken by: Mike Garzon, aka Little Mikey and the Gracious Garzon.

September-My favorite image of the year. Mein Schatz's eye in natural light with the old 55mm manual lens and its beautiful macro focus.

October-Hate He, come on Dude, you have had to of thought of that one prior to now. Haiti in October and the learning it generated. Thanks to all of you that a felt an internal need to share add vice and 'con' scern, I will never forget how those words and tacit innuendos helped me better understand the world around me.

November-St. Lissa assists on her 7th birth(there have been three more since) and earns full fledged Doula Certification. Yay, for her and the internal will she is showing to break away from the monetary attachment to the Corporate Plan of Aggression. What she is doing is really brave, and I am happy that she has found a calling that will continue to evolve into her mobile livity source.

December-I had the honor to spend a few hours one night at the home of Jwaye and her 3 year old Chocolate Lab, Magoo. The photo session went well and the transfer was documented.

Christmas Follow Up-WE DID NOT HAVE A WHITE CHRISTMAS!

2010-12-28T16:00:00.000-08:00

On the day after Christmas, in the evening, I walked out of the house with Zoo dummy corded to my waist with a seven foot leather strap choke lead. We were gone in the five inch plus and drift for just under three hours. It really seemed winter for that time. The air was cold, around freezing and the sky was trying hard to be clear of clouds. Towards the west I could see breaks in the dark overcast and the sky behind was turning not only dark blue, but as well shades of pink, red and almost turquoise. Through the holes in the clouds only, the sky appeared on fire. Hardly any notice of the auto viper, everyone must have been hunkered down. Of the amazing things that I met and passed, the one that was most noticeable was the lack of folks outside. In the picture below you will see what Christmas might look like under a Caesium(CS) explosion sky. More candy canes, they are everywhere. An anonymous angel left one dangling from my Answer Alumilite handle bars while I was in one of the buildings on Thursday right before Christmas Break. Candy canes, where does such a strange shaped and minty tasting treat come from anyways?

During my travels today I over heard several conversations about the magic of our 'white' Christmas. At one point someone directly asked me, "What did you think of our 'white' Christmas?" After instantaneously considering giving the standard expected answer, I went with my instinct and shot back, "Technically, I do not think that the North American Meteorological School of Science(if there is actually one) would consider supporting the claim that Charlotte had a 'white' Christmas. Basically I explained to my questioner that I understood that the qualifying factors to be able to claim 'white' Christmas status were as follows: The landscape has to be covered with one inch or more of snow in the entire county in which you dwell by midnight Christmas Day. From my twelve o'clock at night perspective on Jesus' birthday out here east of town, the landscape in spots still had just a dusting, maybe a quarter inch. I went on for a few minutes defending my stance that we did not have a 'white' Christmas at all, by explaining that from the looks of the radar that night south east Charlotte may have had even less snow than the rest of the county at that time. When I finished pretty much proving by the books that our Christmas was far from 'white', I realized that I had lost the man who had asked the original question to begin with minutes and sentences ago. He finally spoke, never getting up from his chair, "So, we didn't have a 'white' Christmas, did we?" All I could do was nod in affirmation as I left the room with two more jobs than I had before walking in.

Work/School Day Off

2010-12-27T15:53:00.000-08:00

Bright White Pastoral Transfer, all along the way while walking 5.6 miles in the snow burdened woods. Ms. Arcen and Botzie(if you haven't seen his new place on the web, be sure to click here it includes new, never viewed before video from the Himalayas far, far away) walk up the slight rise completely blown out hot in a digital test exposure with the old 55mm.

Shortly after tasting the cake marked: EAT ME, Ms. Arcen leads Himalayan Photographer Jeff Botz through the winter woods.

From behind I watched and moved as Rommel, the boar hunting Dane gets scent of a pig, and takes off to the front for a closer smell.

Poor TWIT looks on with jealous dismay as the big dog enjoys his well earned freedom. Zoo is mischievous and cannot be trusted off lead, I doubt she ever will be.

Success, the big dog makes an on the fly pass around our guide, the Giantess.

Rommel and Mein Schatz forge on through a dark wind blown tree top snowing section of the forest under an azure sky.

When I said, "Freeze", I stepped backwards without looking and fell over a snow covered log landing flat on my ass. This was the looks on their faces.

Photo of Winter Daughter, with Rommel and Zoo out of frame attached to the bamboo holding Dad courtesy of Jeff Botz.

More Christmas

2010-12-26T16:12:00.000-08:00

Seeing that it started before Halloween, Christmas should stick around awhile after the big day. On an evening walk with Zoo, I saw many interesting things including the bothersome and somewhat attractive candy cane lights above, snow and an owl in flight directly above my head. The transfer from day to night was quiet, hollow and echo dense sounding, like winter cold. Vultures.

Picture of the Week: Jwaye to The World

2010-12-23T04:24:00.000-08:00

From left to right: Magoo & Jwaye

To lock, or to only give the illusion one is locked: that is the question:

2010-12-21T17:05:00.000-08:00

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to fall lazy
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take knives and asps against the streets of troubles,
And by faking, end them? To get jacked: To be robbed;
No more; and by being robbed we say end
The heart-ache and the Soma
That messengers are heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To get jacked, to be robbed;
To be robbed: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that robbery of bike what dreams may come
When we have rode off this mortal coil,
Must give us still track stand: there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long a rookie;
For who would bear the pokes of the blog and scorns of more seasoned couriers,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's insulting display,
The pangs of stolen machine, the law's delay,
The insolence of a veteran bike rider and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare Brooks Saddle(one of the 19 serviceable ones he owns)? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a heavy bag,
But that the dread of something after bicycle gone,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No messenger returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills on foot or in the car
Than ride to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience does make lazy of us all;
And thus the veteran hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And VeloCity Bicycle Couriers of great pride in what they do
With this regard their competition turn awry,
And lose the name of giving a rat's ass - Soft you now!
The fair Swazey! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my jovial jabs remember'd.

*Shakespeare your language blows my mind.
*Inspiration for toonday's post derived from Hamlet 3/1

And Further more, I was contacted today by a nice fellow in Indianapolis whom linked over from TEAM DICKY's world famous dot com and read the story about the Laptop Round Up for the Real. If you haven't seen this picture of me you may get a hoot, Where the Wild Bills Are...ha, ha, ha. Like Jerry Reed says, "Anyhoo", Bill Williams from the great state of Indiana first let me know about one laptop he had, then within hours he discovered another one that he did not know he had bringing his donation to 2 machines. That brings toonday's total to what appears to be 9 Laptop computers donated to the new/used computer lab at the primary school in Babancourt. This drive still has plenty of time to exceeded the classroom goal of 15 machines. Any amount over those 15 would be great to deliver and as well would give the 30 child class back ups.

Thanks for your support and please help spread the word and stay vigilant, you never know if someone close to you has an extra machine for the cause, all you have to do is ask...

'B' Log Sunday Brunch Post

2010-12-19T09:15:00.000-08:00

Meet the Principal of the school in Babancourt and his wife, one of the teachers of the children who will be receiving the donation of Laptops raised during the Traffic Stop's Laptop Round Up for the Real.

Here are the kids that will benefit from your donation entering the schoolhouse that the computers will be used in.

They are also the proud parents of Carl, a five year old whom I met earlier in the day on the dirt track into Babancourt. Carl also attends the school where his parents work with about 200 other children from the area. Actually, meeting Carl on the way into Babancourt is an interesting story that helps to affirm how meeting someone in another nation not chosen with eye contact regardless of the language difference can be an education for both humans.

Pastor Lyonel was behind the wheel of his big white Chevy king cab 4 x4, and Pastor Dupree and his wife were sitting close to each other behind me as we turned right off of the hardball road onto the dirt track that led to Babancourt. The wide path was lined lush green with palm trees, tall grasses, thick vines and an occasional tall leafed hardwood. Roughly a mile in I started seeing small sturdy houses set back ten to twenty meters off of the road. There were no driveways for cars not owned leading to these little homes, just open space or a narrow foot paths cut through the green on the edge of the road. Houses built small with design that fits the need. Both block and wood foundations raised off of the dark earth floor in case of flooding from the close by mountains during the rainy season which comes every year. Open windows without screen or glass, and small porches for sitting on almost every house.

All of a sudden the truck stopped quickly and unannounced in front of a modest dwelling some twenty meters off to my right. Pastor Lyonel yelled a friendly morning greeting to the Grandmother standing and waving back to us on the elevated porch. The way she was standing almost completely blocked my view of the open front door. She was smiling and still waving just as someone small from around her skirt appeared making his way to the wood plank stairs that led down to the ground. Now he was running directly for us in his little khaki and green public school uniform shouting, "Paste' Lyonel, Paste' Lyonel."

This little fellow of no more than five years old must have recognized the familiar truck of the Pastor, but the sight of me he could not place. His run stopped quickly turning into a frozen stare at the thickly bearded white man he had never seen before in the Pastor's truck just a few feet from him. Lyonel made the informal introductions and I leaned down sticking out my hand to shake Carl's, the primary school kid looking wide eyed back up at me. Carl's tiny hand slowly met my mine with a gentle shake, and then he ran off on down the road in the same direction we were headed.

A few hours later after getting an overland hiking tour of the 40 acre parcel owned by the church, Pastors Lyonel and Dupree led me down the dirt road to see the large school building supporting the village. When we arrived all of the children and teachers were out in the sandy yard about to end a morning recess. We watched as the bells rang and the kids assembled in an orderly fashion to reenter the schoolhouse. While I was preoccupied taking pictures, the young Principal of the school came over and immediately started talking to Pastor Lyonel in a language that I did not understand but could hear and just as importantly feel. Lyonel burst out into laughter, something up until that point I wasn't sure if he was capable of. I asked him to please tell me what was so funny because now both he and the Principal were laughing in my direction.

Lyonel started by asking me if I remembered that little boy Carl, whom I had met earlier. "Of course I do", I answered. "Well", Lyonel explained, " Carl is the son of the Principal and one of the teachers here at the school. When Carl came to class this morning he found his mom and dad right away to report that there was a bearded white man in the village and his hands are soft, like powder." That is pretty funny, I thought to myself as Lyonel introduced me to the smiling Principal and his wife. I recon it is rare that the children of this village some 50km north of PAP and off the beaten path get to see someone from America, especially someone as soft as me.

Now is our chance to help those kids out by getting them the hardware that they need to start up a computer learning lab that presently does not exist in the Babancourt School. As of today, it looks as if the Laptop Round Up for the Real has received the commitment of 7 Laptop computers being donated by five individuals in position to help. My goal is 15 and there is still just over three weeks left in the drive, so please keep your ears and eyes open for the project. Like Tab says, "This is an easy one to get behind."

If you have any questions or comments please feel free to get in touch with me and thanks for being part of something authentic.

Friday Laptop Round Up for the Real Report

2010-12-17T04:16:00.000-08:00

From left to right: Edge of the Hearst Tower, BOA Corporate Center.

6 Laptops have been committed to the Laptop Round Up for the Real as of this morning. That is incredible news and I appreciate these donors taking the initiative to help this on the ground project get traction. Several other folks have come forward with good suggestions on ways to round up some more machines. Thanks to all who have shown in interest in helping out. For the next few weeks I will be working with a few local organizations and businesses to reach then exceed the 15 machine goal by the middle of January. Please keep your eyes and ears open for anyone in your circle with means to help with a Laptop Donation.

Breaking News: It's COLD!

2010-12-15T04:34:00.000-08:00

On Monday, local WBTV reporter Dedrick Russell stopped me as I stepped out of the midday CMA Meeting to ask me a few questions about dealig with the cold. Immediately I balked and asked him not to put me on the air, but his genuine interest and promise to not make me look like an idiot won me over. You may get a kick out of this short clip, I enter around a minute forty five with a little 'B' roll. Dedrick, you did a good job of making sure the moron in me did not make the cut, for that and your comment about me being a smart worker I thank you.

Laptop Round Up for the Real Count as of Today:

-I am happy to report that as of this morning at 0700hrs a total of 4 Laptops have been officially donated to this project. 3 other Laptops are verbally offered over the next few weeks. Just counting the 4 that have been committed locally means that the Laptop Drive for the children of the primary school in Babancourt is almost a third of the way to its goal of 15 computers. Thank you to those who have contacted me with a donation and those who have offered guidance and support. Please donate a Laptop today by contacting me at whereonearthisbill@gmail.com. If you cannot, please take a minute to share my link with your friends who may be able to. You are never too far away to be able to help. Thank you very much, you beautiful people.

Laptop Round Up for the Real-Day 1 Results Posted

2010-12-14T04:35:00.000-08:00

Image of garden variety Laptop swiped from the Google image search by ME.

As you know from yesterday's post, the Traffic Stop is on a campaign to raise 15 Laptop computers(new, used or about to be thrown away) for the primary public school in Barbancourt that I visited in October. All of the logistics needed to get these machines to the school are covered between Pastor Lyonel and myself. If you have specific questions about any of the details, please feel free to contact me at: whereonearthisbill@gmail.com.

Here are the results from the first day of the Laptop Round Up:

-1 old Dell was donated by Tab
-1 used HP was tentatively donated based on the donor purchasing their new machine closer to the Holiday.
-1 Dell may be coming back from West Palm Beach after Christmas with V, the Laptop Round Up's new female director of facilitation.

Not an over whelming start, but definitely warming to the heart. A big Traffic Stop THANKS to the three ladies mentioned above for feeling it, and being willing to participate as well as help spread the word. Remember, my philosophy for this project stems from the idea that fixing the plight of the Haitian people may never happen, but small real answers on the ground can set into motion a life time of positive change for the ones living there.

Pastor Lyonel humbly told me that he could use 15 Laptops to start a computer lab at the school in Barbancourt. Please help me fill that request with a real solution by donating your(or a friend's) old Laptop today.

Laptop Round Up for the Real

2010-12-13T04:27:00.000-08:00

Barbancourt Public School as seen by me in October.

Laptop Drive, Day 1.

Down in Haiti, in a small town called Barbancourt that I visited two months ago there is a schoolhouse with a need that I feel compelled to try and fill. Either new or used LAPTOP Computers are in great demand at the primary and middle school level across the Haitian Nation. While traveling with Pastor Lyonel, I listened as he expressed to me the specific needs at the primary school in Barbancourt of which he is responsible for. One thing stood out, the school has no computers for the children to learn with. Without even realizing it, through me he is asking for a donation of 15 Laptops for a new computer class that will be taught to the children you see above in groups of 30. These computers will not be used to surf the Internet, so they do not have to be the latest, greatest or fastest new machines available.

The idea is that the computers will be loaded with education software that will help teach the children language skills, mathematics and science. Plus, as an added bonus this new mobile computer lab will help the children acquire basic computer skills often taken for granted in the modern western world. Pastor Lyonel explained how the addition of 15 Laptops creating this new computer lab in Barbancourt would change the future of each child that participates in the class. "Getting an equal start is very important to the lives of these children", Lyonel told me.

With that said, I know that the problems in Haiti will not be solved by me or anyone else for a long time to come. But, I have been taught by some smart folks that for the Crisis Caravan to succeed, real solutions must take place. We cannot get caught up in meetings, over planning and the creep of the corporate agenda designed to fear people into worrying about liability so much that nothing gets done. There is no need to try and solve the greater problems on the large scale if some of the smaller basic needs cannot be taken care of.

My approach with this idea is to provide a small, on the ground, nuts and bolts answer to one problem facing the beautiful people of Barbancourt. If you have the resources, I ask that you donate a new or used Laptop Computer to the school in Barbancourt through Pastor Lyonel's Haiti Mission in Port Au Prince.

No nay saying, here's how this will work:

-I will be running this Laptop Round Up for the Real for the next month. The closing day for this computer drive will be infinitely forward into the future.

-Contact me immediately at whereonearthisbill@gmail.com with any donations you may have and I will explain all of the logistical details at that time.

- Pastor Lyonel is the man, he is very connected and he services his fellow Haitians with assurance and truth. The Pastor is the Vice President of the Haiti Mission, a non-profit headquartered in PAP. That means your donation can be written off for tax purposes. Merry Christmas!

-Trust

Details Uncovered

2010-12-10T04:37:00.000-08:00

Stuckey's revealing rolling rainy day self portrait with me warm and dry in my Montero over his left shoulder.

The other day I was trying to transfer the synchro of the above image to all y'all. In that post I wrote something rather important based on the knowledge of the image that I had at the time. 'To tell the truth, I never remember seeing him and he swears that he never saw me.' Then I go on with all of the justifications and rationalizations as to why I am driving my truck on this day for Stuckey to capture in full snychro style.

Well, after I wrote and posted the story I talked to Stuckey on the gas grill and he corrected my assumption that the shot was made from the bike lane on Central Avenue. He was actually on Hickory Grove Road which would clearly explain why I openly admitted that I never saw him. I never did see him on Central, but I do have a clear memory of passing a rainy day wet cyclist in the bike lane on Hickory Grove that day. Of course, it was just an anonymous rider to me at the time that I was passing on my way to get Ms. Arcen from school. That brings me back to the original point, I was there that day in my car for all of the reasons previously listed in the original post, plus I had solo parenting responsibilities after work causing me to drive.

There you have it, a complete waste of your time today here at the Traffic Stop. I just did not want any readers to think that I did not see a cyclist that I passed while driving my car, when in fact I did not and did at the same time. Does that make any sense? Assumptions can be so damning, thanks a lot Stuckey for helping me clarify that I actually did see you, it's just that it was not on Central.

My Dreams Project a Real Connection

2010-12-08T03:46:00.000-08:00

They always have. The more I let go and fall into my dreams with understanding and recall technique, the more I can feel the power force sparking them. I feel like I am at the start of understanding the cause driving my dreams. There is a long way to go and that is just the beginning.

A few weeks ago we made a surprise visit to the Haywood County North Carolina homestead of St. Lissa's biological daddy, whom I had only met twice prior. As we turned into the drive on Rich Cove Mountain, Johnny was sweeping the leaves off of the front porch of the house that he was born in and as he openly confesses, will one day die in. As soon as he saw his daughter, he leaned the old fashioned broom against a rocking chair and embraced her like only a father could. We were welcomed into his mountain home as if he had known all of us for a lifetime.

Dream, the ultimate voyage of a resting brain perhaps infinitely more powerful than when it is awake trying to keep all cognitive systems going on this spinning chunk of rock. They keep coming and now the dimension of time is making its presence seen visual and felt along with all of the other sensory receptors. This morning in dream I looked at the clock that is next to my bed, it read 0615hrs in bright red linear numerals. Thinking came to me as I dream slept and slept a dream. It is later than 0615hrs Boot, wake up, you are about to be late and out in the 18F without warm breakfast. Was there a sound, I could not be sure, but from sleep dream sleeping to the actual and the same clock in front of me clearly showed that it was 0715hrs. Moving translates to an active half pint of oats, honey and a rotten banana on the outside only. Then the cold reality of feet hurting under prepared for the 19mph wind chill constant off of the 18F drained the process of getting in on commute. Moving through it created a heat rip away that tries hard to slow my continual forward pedaling. Maybe shins exposed under an insulated covered knee was a bad idea, however half way in is a serious commitment as far as my work schedule goes. Ignore the cold dead wood like feeling of the skin under your left toes and foot, your exposure only has fifteen minutes left and that will surely not cause damage that wouldn't be fixed with a warm cup of coffee after you drop the mails.

Even though I ran around and backtracked a bit, my day brought a slower result at work than the average. We all know that a pattern is hard to predict in this industry. Early in the afternoon I wound up in a comfy chair across from Swazey who was desperately trying to get me to drink the rest of his java poison so that I could go get 'us' a refill. There wasn't much to talk about, I was warm and he was distracted by the trials of running the business that he proudly owns. My head started bobbing, my eyelids closed and fluttered. It was easy, I gave in by leaning back into the chair with my photochromic lenses slightly veiling my eyes.

Gone. Truly right away into another dream unidentified dimensional tap in of me arriving by bicycle to the rural Maynard Hill that I grew up on. This place holds tons of magic in my mind and I have not really lived there for over 23 years. I came over the hill and down on my white Zurich with a front bag on filled with little warm ham sandwiches wrapped individually in aluminum foil. It was day light and the grass was Nikon green under a blue cloudless sky. People that I did not recognize were standing in the road at the driveway as I slowed to a crawl and turned in as if ever was this my home. Were they Tifosi, I mean I had just finished a ride that covered over 700 miles, maybe they were there to receive me even though I never told anyone I was coming.

Looking up into the garage I knew that something was night right, it was not what I remembered as truth at all. The rest of the dream is a blur, a fast paced walk through of a physical place that had changed so many times and so dramatically that it was unrecognizable as actually connected to me on the real level. People that I did not know were spending cozy time by their fireplace on a country road in Brooklyn. They were not mean to me, however they were annoyingly curious as to where I came from and what was I doing there. In dream land there feels no desire, want, need, hunger or thirst for that matter as I walked through on down the hall towards my old bedroom. The unfamiliar occupants of the shell of my childhood home started asking me redundant questions about nothing. I tried to ignore their watered down intellect all the while paying attention to the new wood work carpentry details on the inside that I had never seen before. Just as I felt my pajama bottomed feet slipping the way they used to, I was jolted awake into the conscious now by a firm tug on my left sleeve.

It was Swazey's voice that I heard as I left the entrance to my old room from my bonding years, "Excuse me, Mr. Homeless person, there is no sleeping allowed in here." Bastard. Only several minutes had passed before I started to lightly snore which compelled Swazey to take charge. There is something missing though, something that I did not see while trying to tap one of those other unknown dimensions of a conscious but not conscious state. That was the second time that I have dream rode to my old home, the house I remember in the past two weeks. Synchronicity is at work in my cortex but it has not yet manifested the physical connection. Does that make any sense? Prolly not, so don't worry about it because it is all mine to feel and be able to express as if I knew what I were talking about.

Bring a Friend to Work Day & SYNCHRO MORE...

2010-12-06T16:49:00.000-08:00

One early morning a few years back from this on an inbound stay alive, a crazy Bastard whom I had never met before accelerated passed me in his Ford Range Her at the start of the Albermarlean Traverse, and then a hundred meters ahead he turned right into some sort of breakfast fast food place. He whipped the truck around, jumped out of the cab and flagged me down. What the? Turns out this crazy Bastard with the birth given street name Stuckey had been seeing me traverse the corridor over the past few years and for whatever reason on this morning he decided to introduce himself and ask me what the hell am I doing for the seven thousandth time with a few years gap. Strange the thought of how my presence on perpetual bike commute affects the minds of those thinking and paying attention. I've often wondered just how many of those whizzing by car bound in the active pursuit of whatever actually see me.

In this case Stuckey was most definitely paying attention and he let me know both verbally and tacitly. We chatted for a few minutes that morning with promises of contacting each other for a trail ride and then both of us went back on our individual ways. Over time we never got that trail ride in, but I did see Stuckey often enough to know that he saw me as well. It was kind of one of those things where you are alone on a bike, you project a thought and then it manifests. You've heard it before and you will hear it again maybe even in this post, how's the synchro? I would be riding along after a week or two without seeing the Range Her wondering to myself where the hell it was and then all of a sudden it would appear with an audible toot from nowhere. A few times I even picked my way through traffic stopped at a light to have a passenger window side chat with this fellow rider and all around decent human. Stuckey.

Fast forward over the ages to a week and a half ago when Stuckey contacted me to let me know that he would be no longer employed after the 30th of November and that he would like to have some fun by following me on a work day from start to finish. Well, well, I dare say that is an interesting proposal to have a civilian I have never ridden with fly my wing for a day. So it was done and set for Thursday December 2. Stuckey showed up with his big geared freewheel SS urban road rig before 0800hrs just as I was finishing this post and my delicious toast and jam. We rolled out for the standard east side approach very close to my normal departure time.

Here, still in Dooleyville Stuckey approaches a slight rise in full pro level style.

Before we got into the nasty urban transfer his wife called to make sure that he was okay. I heard him say, "Yeah honey everything is fine except he has on shoes. I thought he said that he wears sandals with wool socks all the way down to below freezing temperatures. What a bastard, his feet look warmer than mine feel."

I did not make any images during the rest of the Stay Alive or our day at work. My camera was away from me because of the Courthouse and I was never really motivated to document all of the intricate details of my daily livity experience.

Thoughts, Observations & Stats:

-Stuckey was amazing, only slowed me down three times out of many.
-We did 16 jobs(solid average goal style) in between 0845hrs and 1303hrs.
-Lunch was a 6.25$ three bean burrito splurge for me and a chicken version for him at PHAT.
-Not one of the 16 tags were outside of the beltway. Normally I go out(far) a few times in that same amount of time. Providence Road or at least Moorehead deep come up often enough that I am familiar.
-Beer call was before 1600hrs.
-By the time we returned home on this solid average day minus leaving the belt, Stuckey's Computer read, 32.7miles.

Here he is back in Dooleyville after a day in the life of me. If you look closely you will see the 24hrs of Booty is sort of spiritually represented on Stuckey's left calf. Spencer saw the ink recently and was motivated to inquire about the human wearing it.

Stop, full on.

Me and Stuckey from left to right in case you are confused. Shot provided by: Stuckey.

*** "How's the synchro", asked the brown white tailed rabbit standing in the dew covered grass along side the road. It is constant and just fine, thanks for asking.

Now that Stuckey and I are friends we've also become Faceliftbook "friends". Yesterday I noticed that he posted a few images for all of his other '"friends" to see. One that struck me deep is the one below of him riding home for an evening commute a week before he lost his job and the week after I returned from Haiti.

The most amazing thing about this Stuckey self portrait is that it is unrehearsed, unplanned and not coordinated by either of us. To tell the truth, I never remember seeing him and he swears that he never saw me. I am in my Montero driving the commute that I always ride because I had just returned from Hell, it was raining and I am a pussy. Yes, the UN Montero with the Connecticut flag over the right wheel well is one of the only things I own and in this slice of time, about 125th of a second I am dry, driving it on by Stuckey who is wet.

Sunday Mountain Ride Report

2010-12-06T04:27:00.000-08:00

Well, it was going to be a detailed ride report from yesterday's 3.5hrs in the woods of the Uwharrie National Forest with Blair, but I overslept so you are only getting a brief version of the epic events that took place.

-US Army Special Forces Trainees Jumped in close by eight days earlier and have been in the field since practicing map only land nav. The Major gave me the scoop.
-Dude(the fellow in the present header image making a high cut on my former shag bark maple tree) was there and left a beer on my car, so we left one on his friend's.
-I took a wrong turn, or missed the right one. Go figure.
-Blair is brave.
-The warm up jacket that Boots gave me a few years ago is very comfortable, practically functional for riding and makes complete fashion sense.
-Uwharrie is a great forest to have so close by, a third of the time in the car away than the big mountains.

Burley Trailer Follow Up

2010-12-02T04:53:00.000-08:00

Earlier in the week I highlighted the new Burley Trailer that Swazey(street name) purchased with a cash trade from the fine folks at Bicycle Sport. Roughly three hours after that post went up, the Burley voice picked up on my reference to its product by using the super top secret industry Internet radar system. Then the voice behind the cloud commented:

Anonymous burley_trailers said...

Nice Burley Flatbed trailer!

A good choice to go with a two-wheel trailer which balances its load on the trailer wheels rather than making you balance the weight on your bike. You'd really notice that difference in cornering and in standing up on the pedals. You'll also get better maneuverability around town with the shorter wheel-base of the Burley because the wheels are centered on the cargo area.

Check out the Burley Travoy if you are looking for an even smaller towing footprint at www.burley.com . Keep on rolling!

November 30, 2010 9:10 AM

Delete

All good points from a marketing aspect. I would have to say that I am not being paid by anyone in the industry so my opinion really does not matter, it's just that I have had my BOB for a long time and it works well for me when ever I pull it down.

Swazey's Burley is now a few days old and the aura it creates is just as tantalizing as it was the first day we saw it. Let's check in with him and see how this new Burley product is working for him.

What's this? A half assed Tupperware solution to the problem of urban ick spraying the load on the bed of the trailer.

Swazey says, "If you're gonna do something, do it with pride."

Nothing says pride like, Tupperware. Or is it Rubbermaid?

This is good problem solving by one of the CMA's most intellectual members. Swazey's priority negotiating skills are pro level.

Thought Bubble: Hmmm, that trailer is heavy, I'm tired and one of my far away clients has an ASAP coming back to town. Maybe I should just lock my Burley to the bike rack, do the job and get the trailer later, that way I do not have to pull the extra weight around for nothing. What great ideas I have all of the time.

One of the nicest city employees in Charlotte inquires as to why Swazey is locking his trailer rather then riding away with it.

Here Swazey is seen explaining how hard it is to ride with the extra weight behind him.

The man in the Nathan Vest was over heard saying, "Burley's trailer is really nice looking, but I am not sure why there is Tupperware in the back of it."

Swazey points out the only deficiency in the Burley system that he has discovered thus far. "It jiggles and rattles and drives my nuts(at least it won't be a far drive)", he repined. Then he went on, "Use your stupid blog and get Burley to do something about this."

Closer inspection shows another half assed effort to solve a problem. This time black electrical tape is loosely wrapped around what he thought was the cause of the irritating rattle. Looks like something to be proud of to me.

Dicky steps in and adds his opinion on the manner in which Swazey locked his trailer.

Coincidence, highly unlikely.

Rolling away towards Union County for that ASAP special request without the Burley.

The CMA PROUDLY Presents: FALCONER of the Month

2010-12-01T04:29:00.000-08:00

Falconer: A person skilled in the art of Falconry.

There's a little known secret tucked away inside one of the brick foundry buildings of the South End is near around the corner from the Cool and Cool. Meet Jason, a licensed Falconer and his juvenile red tailed hawk named Arshia.

Recently I had the chance to step inside of Jason's studio and spend some time with him and this beautiful bird of prey. What an interesting bit of learning this time spent was. Arshia was born this past spring and the week before I met her she was captured in a basket by the falconer. Their relationship was only six days old, but the bond and communication between them was apparent. Jason took the time to explain a few things about this art to me.

The idea is that over the next several weeks Arshia will travel with Jason where ever he goes for her training. As they get to know each other he will take her to the field and teach her to hunt by using hand and voice commands. He described being able to walk a tree line with her following in flight from tree to tree to tree and so on until he helps her spot the ground prey. Once identified, the command is given and she will swoop in for the kill at which point he shows her how to dispatch the victim, be it a squirrel or rabbit. Eventually she will be taught to hunt other birds for a little air to air action.

Thanks to Jason for letting me spend some time with him and this amazing creature. After listening to his thoughts and watching his interaction with Arshia I have a better appreciation for such a powerful and natural art form. Fly on!

Major Developments in the Uptoon Courier Scene

2010-11-30T03:52:00.000-08:00

Sways he just bought a trail her from the fine folks at Bicycle Sport on Selwyn. Boy he loves it when I do that with words, so much so that he has even walked away before not to be seen again for hours, sometimes days. Swazey, the Queen City messenger scholar and owner operator of VeloCity Bicycle Courier(s) rolled into the Uptoon Yesterday with his new Burley Trailer. Over the holiday weekend he had sent me a text with a photographic attachment of his latest cycling purchase.

The question is, why did he make such a purchase?

a. To confuse senior members of the CMA.
b. He has nothing better to do with all of the cash he makes from servicing clients in 13 other regional Zip Codes.
c. His bag hurts his back and now he can place it in the trailer where it will get constantly pelted by the urban ick that falls to surface of the streets.
d. A contract is in the works with a potential new client that needs cargo delivered across the river two counties over.
e. All of the above.

Maybe he got tired of being randomly asked in the elevator, "Whatever happened to that messenger with the big calves who used to pull that little trailer behind his bike?" Ultimately I guess time will tell and in the meantime we can only wonder and poke him with a stick.

Swazey says:

"Why are you wanting to take pictures of me and my new trailer?" "You are not going to make fun of me on your good for nothing Blog, are you?" "Is my helmet on straight?" "Do you like my Vans?" "Can I get you some coffee?" "Are you still mad at me for buying the very same gray summer weight wool Walz Cycling Cap that you were given as a gift two days after you received it?" "Have you seen my beard comb?" "Does my new trailer make you feel desirous?"

Swazey rides away without his bag on his back and instead it is tucked neatly under the strapping of the new trailer. The Traffic Stop thinks that regardless of any preconceived die men shun all parameters that he should have bought a one wheeled BOB instead. But as we all know, it does not matter what I think. Ride on with your new trailer Swazey and keep the rubber side down!

Field Op Code Name-SYNCRO

2010-11-29T04:43:00.000-08:00

It has been a sort of a tradition for the last few years that on the day after Thanksgiving Ms. Arcen and I take off to accomplish something pastoral and epic. You know, some father daughter bonding time out away from it all where things are quiet and you can actually hear the earth spinning on its axis. Last year it was the cold ride of the Virginia Creeper Trail and in 08 we spent the day hiking up in a snowy Grayson Highlands State Park, the highest territory in the great state of Virginia. In 07, the first year I started this blog we stayed close to home that Friday and made our transfer via an urban RIDE/BUS/RIDE/SWIM/RIDE. Time, one of the four dimensions I understand is passing rapidly, all I have to do for confirmation of that is look back at how small my kid was just three years ago.

This year the weather thwarted our Black Friday pastoral plans so instead we spent the day doing chores and impressing each other with our math skills. St. Lissa was called out in the wee hours of Sunday morning to assist with her 8th birth which left Ms. Arcen and I the time to utilize the rain check on our annual post Thanksgiving adventure. We decided to pack the pack and head over to Crowders Mountain for a hike up the region's most distinct monadnock. Once up along the main ridge our hope was to find an empty wall suitable for Ms. Arcen to practice her rock climbing\self empowerment skills.

Just as we pulled into the semi crowded lot at the Linwood Road access, I noticed a pretty girl in the bright sun standing on one foot, stretching an arm high into the sky perfectly straight and pulling back on the leg not holding her up. Interesting. We drove on by and found our space close to the facilities and commenced to gear up for the mile and a half hike up to the summit ridge. While I was messing with the pack behind the UN Montero, a gentleman and the pretty girl approached with the confidence of familiarity. The fellow stuck out his hand and introduced himself as the Blair that contacted me about a year ago after he had started checking in with the Traffic Stop down Atlanta way. Since then he has moved to Belmont to be closer with Beth, whom he then introduced us to. She was the one radiating strength on one foot with a single hand reaching for the sky when we first pulled into the lot.

How's the syncro? I am not sure how it is, but I know that it is constant and has infinite powers when received. We quickly figured out that the four of us would head up together and see what the day had in store. It was really great to meet these two progressive thinking folks and spend some time ambling over the top rocks and inner walls of Crowders' main with them.

On the way up the stairs Ms. Arcen tells Beth just how much she loves horses and that she cannot wait to bring her horse Majesty down from Maggie Valley. Beth has no doubt that the kid likes horses.

Blair drops a short steep as Beth looks through the lens.

Blair's face reacts to the impending doom if he makes one false step.

As Blair uses his butt muscles to control his descent, Beth laughs.

Ms. Arcen showing off her favorite cave.

I did not have enough webbing to safely tie her in on a tall wall near her debut wall, so we decided to hike back the practice wall. The bolts were occupied by Peyton and his climbing partner which gave us time to sit in the sun and enjoy a beverage. Blair and Beth took off on the rest of their day and about twenty minutes later the bolts became free. I anchored the line and then we headed down to the base of the crack. No pictures of her on the wall, I was too busy being her belay. She made five attempts on the same crack from her last time there and was unable to get passed a problem about 15 feet up. Interestingly enough, that problem did not bother her on that last experience. The rock was cold, we were in the shadows. It was exciting to see her try, and not want to give up. She seems to enjoy the feeling of being up there and on it.

She pulled off her shoe to make an adjustment, that is when I saw her gnarly big toe poking out of a stinky sock. Yikes, get to mending child!

Ms. Arcen made this image(the next one too) of me undoing our tie in.

No one told me that my right short pant leg was bunched up in my harness thigh strap.

Dad, you are such a dork with your short shorts on one side. Photo: Random Lady up top.

On the walk down the sun was low, the light through the woods was shadowy and above us bright against the upper walls and trees. We talked about the day and how nice it was to meet Blair and Beth. Ms. Arcen said, "Dad, can we not go anywhere without someone recognizing you from your mistake ridden blog? Why does that happen all the time?" I told her, "Come on, that has only happened a few times. It's not like I am Dicky or Arleigh."

Giving Thanks

2010-11-25T09:43:00.000-08:00

Pastor Lyonel on the afternoon of October 20, 2010 in Port Au Prince.

Especially this year to Pastor Lyonel for taking the time to teach me about the attachment between breaking laws and consequences. I had met him early the morning before on the terraced patio of the safe space I was leasing. Now we were headed for Barbancourt in his big white truck with two others, Pastor Dupree and his traditionally dressed and colorful wife. Just outside the hectic capital city was the country, they are not far apart. The flat green landscape a horizon wide in front of us gave way a few miles ahead to an even greener long mountain range.

Bright light, proximity to the solar center in the math and physical being adds to the confusion when Lyonel asks me, "Why did you come to Haiti?" Seems like all the cars in Haiti travel with the windows up, which to me is taking into the small box tons of ppm for all of us to breathe in, exhale, breathe in, exhale and so on. Until the headache starts ninety six hours later and your entire thought process leads you back to the understanding that no one ever chose to be born into this type of dire living condition. So I told him pretty much everything that I had which set into motion an educational transfer, the one that maybe I had been searching for. I explained to Lyonel and my two companions sitting close to each other behind me that first I wanted to visit Haiti because I knew that there are serious problems that have been compounded by the earthquake. My intention was to try to make a visual and written document that I could share with people back in America, in the hopes that a small bit of awareness may spread. Secondly, because of hearing the word Haiti in my head and letting go of what I thought I was doing, space opened to receive the unplanned opportunity to help the real helpers back in Mecklenburg with some on the ground recon.

I blamed my intuition, a suitable scapegoat. As my answer to his original question started to end I found myself coming back to the why and then told them about my whole understanding that no one chose to be born to the one landscape, one nation or division that they were. With that I am aware that my American brand was pure luck, like a mule eating broth which makes me further understand that the rest of the land on the planet is home to humans who made the same not choice. Almost seven billion, half sleep while the other half enjoy the projection of the relatively fixed sun's rays on the surface of a spinning earth. All of those people, their energy and potential. Some live in packed, densely populated cities elbow to elbow with individual faces of expression and feelings. Others dwell in more rural enclaves far from the chaos of ten million, like the community we were headed to.

Lyonel listened, then spoke when I finished. "Interesting thoughts", he commented before adding, "Now let's take that a step further." It was my turn to listen as he described some basic principles that he holds to be true because they are proven constantly when observed. Lyonel asked, "When one breaks the law, one is subject to the consequences, would you agree?"

Of course. Then he went on to explain that there are many types of laws that we as the human race have the potential to break. For example: Laws of a particular Government, Spiritual Laws, Moral Laws, Natural Laws and so on. And, when you break one of these or many and you are an individual that is one thing. You will have to deal with the outcome on our own terms, for and by yourself. But, if you are a leader with responsibility to the people you govern on any level and you break those laws for your own immediate gain then the future generations wind up having to pay those consequences. "That is what you see here in Haiti", the pastor said, "the people of Haiti are living in a condition that is the result of the generations prior consistently breaking the laws."

Pastor Lyonel went on to say that just like not choosing to be Haitian that these people did not ask for those laws to be broken over a span of the last roughly 250 years. Living in the aftermath of not only an earthquake but the greed and senseless actions of others generations prior who are long dead and gone. The scale of the travesty sets in as I realize that right now, those same laws are still perpetually being broken by leadership around the world. And so then, who does the leadership work for?

As we sped along east on the newly asphalted unmarked road I stared out the window into the vibrant hillside stretching all the way to lands end and wondered about the future of the place I was born to. When the full ramifications of our collective law breaking under the guise of progress catches up with the people back home what will it look like? What I saw in Haiti was real, Lyonel makes complete sense and what he describes is obvious when you look at it.

Lyonel told me that he understands the helpless feeling and confusion that sets in when one tries to figure out how to actually change things and fix the problem Of course neither one of us ever had say in the actions taken by our leaders, so what is there to do? I hear that a lot, "Oh, I can't control that, so I am only going to think about what I can." Looks to me as if none of this is in any one's control so maybe it is time to give in and start undoing some of the many broken laws created over time.

For Pastor Lyonel it is about making right the conditions in the now created by so much wrong doing past. Service to the people with assurance and honesty. The problems of Haiti may never be fixed entirely, but in singular circumstances wrongs will be righted by people conscious enough to know what they must do. "Letting go is key", he said. When I heard his voice say those words, I realized that was the third time in about a month that phrase was spoken to me. I let it set into my cortex, closed my eyes for a second and visioned an entire world ready to let it go. I work on it every day knowing that those times I achieve it, I actually feel better about the bigger stage around me. And it is hard to do, until I fully understand that it is actually the easier option compared to holding on. Holding on can be such an effort, I thought to myself as I looked out over the tops of the palm trees at a beautiful rising landscape against a bright blue sky.

Consequences indeed.

Rock and Roll Stop the Traffic!

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