wwmxd?

I took my first grad school class this semester, a lit class about life writing, or autobiography. Right now I'm procrastinating my final paper, which is about The Autobiography of Malcolm X.

I first read that book in college, almost 20 years ago, and it had a profound impact on me. It gave me a completely new perspective on America, one that turned this nation's values upside down, revealing their hypocrisies and hidden injustices.

But more than that, it provided a model for how one ought to live.

Malcolm was one who strove to be the very best at everything he did -- whether he was a street hustler or a minister in the Nation of Islam. And he was one of those rare geniuses who was able to achieve the pinnacle of success in every endeavor.

But what most impressed and inspired me was the way he embraced change. At several points in his book he describes his life as a series of changes. And when he changed, he went all out.

As a kid, he put everything he had into his school work, earning his way to the top of the class. But when a teacher told him he should lay aside his dreams of being a lawyer because he's black, he chucked his whole good-student life and through himself headlong into being a street hustler.

In Boston and Harlem, he was known by one and all as Detroit Red. All the big band stars knew him, and he was raking in the dough and walking around town with a beautiful white woman on his arm -- what was for him, at that point in his life, the ultimate prize.

In jail, he embraced religion and devoured books, building his vocabulary by meticulously copying down every word in a dictionary. Upon release, he devoted every waking minute to preaching the message of Elijah Mohammad.

Then he discovered that the man that he literally worshiped was not only an adulterer but one who would destroy the lives of the women he knocked up in order to maintain his own image. For a while, he tried to rationalize, to scheme ways to protect his leader. But eventually he severed ties, knowing it would mean his life.

I decided to focus on Malcolm X for my final project after I read an essay comparing his autobiography to that of Benjamin Franklin. Franklin's is a cornerstone of the genre. Whereas before the bulk of autobiographies were about spiritual awakenings, his was the first story of the self-made man, the remarkable tale of a remarkable man. It was meant, quite literally, as a story to live by. It was something everyday schlubs like me to could aspire to and look up to.

Franklin's was also the story of a young nation coming of age told through the story of one of its greatest men coming of age. It was also totally propagandistic. It contained nothing of Franklin's philandering, his Machiavelian politics, the way he could stab a rival in the back. Instead, it offered a step-by-step plan to acheiving perfection. I detested every word of it.

Malcolm is the anti-Franklin. His is the portrait of an opressive nation (world) at a time when revolution was in the air told through the story of one of its oppressed who was fanning the flames of revolution.

But at the same time, Malcolm is a lot like Franklin. He advises every step of the way, and much of his advice is very conservative. Always wear a watch and be on time. Don't take drugs. Don't drink. Don't smoke. Pursue knowledge relentlessly. Respect women. Don't fornicate. Tell the truth. And, ultimately, don't judge anyone solely by the color of their skin (event whites).

It was interesting reading the book a second time, a decade or so and lots of life experience down the road. And as a writer and a student of literature. What I most appreciated was Alex Haley's epilogue, because it exposed some of Malcolm's self-creation and propoganda. As a college kid, I naively looked up to Malcolm as a saint, unfallable, incapable of distorting his own story. I mjust have skimmed Haley's account, because he lifts the curtain a bit.

Still, it's refreshing to go back and find that one of my heroes remains much the way I first experienced him, as a model I could never live up to, but one that could make me a little better person if I tried.

edelweiss

When Allie and I went to the open mic at a coffee shop on Troost last night we expected a cool, inner-city black-white thing. After all, Troost is the racial dividing line in this city.

But when we arrived, a group called the Sugar Plums was singing a folk song.

We bought our hot beverages and found a couple of seats in the back. There were dozens of people there, only one of whom was black. Just then, one of the Sugar Plums took the mic and said she was going to sing Edelweiss. Allie said, "Oh my god. Can you get any whiter?"

While the woman sang the song, and as others lifted their coffee cups and sang along, we tried hard not to stare at the black man. Sitting alone, he smiled, though not broadly, and we imagined that he was, with great effort, suppressing laughter, and wondering how on earth he wound up in this place on a Friday night.

But who knows? Maybe he was digging the hell out of it.

We quietly left after the song ended and went to Chipotle for McMexican.

spreading the word

This morning, Allie got an e-mail from her dad saying this story ran in today's Jamestown Post-Journal. They were surprised -- and thrilled, because they know a lot of the inside story. 

Jamestown, New York. 

Word sure does get around.

crash

I was away from my desk for about two minutes -- enough time for Scamp to knock a full water bottle over onto my laptiop. Completely fried.

I'm surprised it didn't happen earlier. I've had the thing for almost five years, and Scamp has been knocking over water vessels for at least ten.

Here's the good news. Just last week, after four years of procrastination, I finally signed up for an online backup service. So my most important stuff -- like my book proposal and book materials -- is safe.

I feel a little down, but actually in a good sort of way. A shade better than melancholy.

At first I was shocked. I sat there staring at a pile of stuff on my desk. Then, in my head, I started hearing that old Peter Tosh song where he goes, And I pick myself up, dust myself off, start all over. Corny, I know. But I just started attacking my to-do list and adding more items to cross off.

Now I actually feel kind of good to have the stupid thing gone. It's a little liberating. I'm not going to rush out to buy a new one.

squeek goes home!

From squeek

Our little kitten has found a permanent home with a KU grad student named Patrick!

It's bittersweet, of course. It's always nice to have a kitten around. But the little fella will be a lot happier with a young voracious reader than in this brutal jungle we have here.

By the time dinner rolled around, I was too hungry to photodocument. So there are no photos of the beautiful, delicious food. Except of the pie.

writing

I've been writing again. Real writing, the kind that's miserable. It's been awhile.

This will no doubt change, but for now the routine goes like this:

I get up and feed the dogs, wash the dishes, shower, make breakfast and coffee and then surf the Internet for what seems like hours as I sip coffee and eat, all the while feeling more and more lousy because I'm not writing but, at the same time, being absolutely, 100 percent averse to writing, as if it were the most wretched medicine on earth, and I have to drink a pint of it.

Finally, I set an egg timer for 20 minutes and stare at my screen while the seconds tick away. Five minutes later, after several false starts, I have a somewhat acceptable clause. Three minutes later it's sentence. Twelve minutes in I have two sentences down. And with five minutes to go in my alloted 20, I'm typing furiously. The timer goes off, but I have to keep going, to at least finish the paragraph. Once that's done, I usually have enough ideas and energy to keep going for another half paragraph, at which point I either run out of steam or a gasket pops in my brain, causing me to abruptly stop.

If I'm lucky, I can then go through the same process at least once before lunch, complete with net surfing and guilt-ridden procrastination. And if I'm super, super lucky, I can go it again after lunch. But some days that's all I get -- a paragraph and a half. 

The actual writing isn't miserable. Those 2o to 40 minutes when the words are flowing is actually quite wonderful. It's all the rest of the time that totally sucks. I once heard Joyce Carol Oates describe it as like having a vice clamped on your head all the time. You get some relief when you're writing, and quite a bit more when you finish writing something. And the relief, compared to the pain, is so great that it feels like an exquisite high, even though it's just normal life with out a vice crushing your skull. 

squeek scare

Last night, Allie went downstairs to check in on Squeek. A second later she came running up the stairs. "Squeek's just laying in his crate, not moving, I don't know what's wrong."

I followed her down into the basement, reached in and fished him out. He meowed.

"Oh good," Allie said. "He's OK."

"No he's not," I said, noticing something wrong. I tried to set him on the floor and he crumpled down, unable to use his legs.

We went into a panic. What to do. Get the crate! Get the keys! Get your wallet! Go! Go! Go!!

We raced over to the neighborhood pet clinic. They were just closing but they let us in.

The vet examined him on one of those tall metal tables. He said he thought maybe Squeek had fallen and broken his neck or damaged his brain. I started seething with guilt and shame. I was the one who had set up his enclosure. I saw him trying to jump out and escape. I hadn't done anything about it. And how long had he been lying down there like that? My God, what have I done.

The vet took Squeek's temperature but he was so cold he didn't register anything on the thermometer. 

"That's not good," he said. "I don't think he's going to make it."

My breath caught. I started pacing. The vet told us to take him to an emergency clinic, 15 or so miles away in Lee's Summit. We tore out onto the highway, and promptly got stuck in a traffic jam. Squeek stopped meowing. "Touch him to see if he's OK," I said to Allie.

"I can't," she said.

So drove all the way there both certain that he had died right there in our car and that it was both of our faults.

But when I picked him up to take him into the clinic he let out a wail. Allie felt instantly relieved. I was still freaking out. The nurse took him into the back room and left us with a form to fill out. And then we waited. And waited. And they took us into another room and we waited and waited some more. Finally, when the nurse came in I barked, "Can't you tell us what's going on!"

Allie scolded me, but My God! Were they trying to torture us?! This little, tiny, adorable creature is dying and it's all our fault and they're acting like we're just waiting for an insurance quote or something!

Finally the doctor came in and she was real sweet and nice. She said Squeek was low on sugar and red blood cells and badly dehydrated. He had fleas and most likely worms and they were depriving him of nutrients. He's just so teensy he couldn't take it anymore and he just shut down.

She went back to work on him some more. When she came back, she said he was up and moving. 

"Is he going to make it?" I asked, and she gave one of those long, noncommittal medical answers. Finally, Allie asked, "If you were going to give a percentage, what would it be?"

"I'd say 80 percent."

Instant relief. 

Looked like he was going to live. And it wasn't our fault. 

Right before we were ready to go home, and leave him there for a night of intensive care, the vet brought him in for us to see. I snapped a couple of pictures.

From kansas city soil

From kansas city soil

So we went home feeling pretty good things would be alright. About 10 o'clock, the vet called to tell us he was doing great. Acting like a regular kitten.

This morning, we went to pick him up. He was looking good.

From kansas city soil

We took him to his regular vet, where he's been all day. In a little bit, we'll go pick him up. He'll be under our care for the weekend, and hopefully until he find him a good home. 

Whew! What a night!

national news

The much-anticipated Wall Street Journal article about my former boss and his wife came out today. I'll refrain from editorial comment here, except to say, for the record, that the poodle video and "We want the Funk!" commercial were my ideas. 

john mcenroe

It's that time again. Time to lavish praise on my old buddy John McEnroe has completed another major public art piece in Denver: National Velvet.

It towers above the highway near Downtown and it glows at night!

I talked with John briefly the other day. He was on his way to the dedication ceremony, at which Mayor Hickenlooper made an appearance, and he said the piece had raised some controversy. Apparently some folks on a website out there were bitching about it, and he dared them to fight to have the thing removed. "Which would be the best possible thing that could happen," he told me. (Took me a second to figure out why, but then I realized, yeah, that would be pretty awesome for John.)

I couldn't find the online complaints. But I did find an item from Westword, in which they rename the sculpture "Saggy-Boob Electric Penis." And a video interview with John, in which he's being his usual smart-ass self, albeit in a very gentle-voiced, friendly way. When the reporter asks him about the name, he says that "Velvet" connotes tactile pleasure and "National speaks for itself."

Um. Not when it refers to a giant pile of red blobs, it doesn't.

But that's part of what makes John great, that smart-assed-ness.

Here's an online portfolio of his work.

the awful truth

Allie and I watched The Awful Truth last night. Wonderful movie.

It's about this perfect couple that gets suspicious of one another and hastily files for divorce. The break up begins to fall apart over the issue of who keeps the dog, Mr. Smith, or Smitty, who delivers an Oscar-worthy performance.

Needless to say, it was the perfect movie for a couple of dog-loving freaks like us.

We both long to take a vacation to the 1930s and 40s, at least to the world as it existed in those movies. Everyone was so stylish! Irene Dunne would just lounge around in spectacular sequin dresses, and Cary Grant with a scarf and a silk robe, or a tuxedo with long tails. And all the men wore hats. I'd love to wear hats -- other than ball caps. But I couldn't get away with it in this day and age. I'm not old and I'm not black. Being neither, a fedora would be purely pretentious on my head.

trailers

Found some trailers to some of my favorite movies. (Kind of goofing around here a little bit lately.)

I totally love this one:

It's so cheezy. But so cool, too.

This is one of my all-time favorites:


Best J-film ever.

encouraging news

The NYT had an interesting article yesterday about nonprofit websites that are providing in-depth, investigative journalism in cities. It focused mainly on The Voice of San Diego. But it also mentioned The St. Louis Beacon, MinnPost and the New Haven Independent. They're all really attractive sites, all apparently full of good meat.

It makes me wish I could find a sugar daddy (or mama) who would bankroll one here in KC. I'd love to do something like this. And since McClatchy has been forcing the Star to kill its own, there are probably a few other folks who could join in.

We do have a couple sites like this -- KC Tribune and eKC -- both of which have had some good stuff but which appear to lack the capital that those other sites have.

Meanwhile, across the US, I've noticed that my buddy Joel has rebooted his old blog, Cup of Joel, with a partisan national politics flavor. Here's hoping that one takes off.

wedding pix

wedding

wet squeek

Allie gave the poor little freak a bath. He's still looking for a home.

squeek

This the little creature I saved yesterday. He's is looking for a home.

kitten

I was driving along, about a mile from home, when I spotted a light brown critter scampering out onto the road and pulling up short just before getting smooshed by the car in front of me. At first I thought it was a prairie dog runt. But as I got closer, I noticed it was a kitten. I hit the brakes.

Through the rearview mirror I could see the woman in the car behind me cursing, but I got out anyway. By the time I got around to the side of my car and reached down to scoop the little fur ball up, she was smiling. She approved of what I was doing. She had several teeth missing in the front.

I cupped to kitten to my chest, got in my car, turned around and raced home. I couldn't wait to show it to Allie.

She approved too. But she was a bit worried. The thing was so darned small, she wondered if it could even eat.

I went to the pet store and got some good kitten chow. The kind in a can. Kitty loved that. Just scarfed it down. Though it kept kind of bite/sucking it, like it was a teet. I think it was the first time it had ever had chewable food.

So now we've got another stray to adopt. This one should be easy, though. It's no bigger than my hand. And just squeeky cute.

Anybody want a kitten?

funny keith

Get the latest news satire and funny videos at 236.com.

'Bout sums it up.

extreme activities

This is the greatest film ever made.

giraffes!

Finally! This is available online!!

new media

Washington Post has some good stuff about Obama and new media. This article says he's going to beef up the communication's staff to marshall in a stronger web presence. And this one talks about the tension between the President-Elect and the press.

The first one is promising, so long as it isn't just propaganda. If his administration puts actual work product out with the polished press releases, policy papers and speeches and such, I think this could be really valuable for people who want to engage the system. I hope they put out some real substantive stuff -- source documents, studies, etc. It doesn't cost anything to put that stuff out there, and most folks won't read it, but it gives those of us who would the option of studying issues and initiatives in depth.

Or, from a more selfish perspective, it could give a journalist from the fly-over land a way to build a little beat circuit in the White House and look for stories or even a book. There are obviously going to be tons of books about this presidency, and I'd like to keep the option open to write one of them.

I checked out his transition website. Not a lot there. I went ahead and applied for a job. Why not? At some point, I'll probably share my story and vision for the country.

On the press side, my perspective on this is quite a bit different now that I've done a short stint in an elected office. I have to say, I sympathize with Obama's position. On the other hand, he needs to get over it. The press has always been at odds with people in power, and it always will be. Bottom line: Reporters are out to score points and draw eyeballs. Conflict drives everything. And conformity and group think are all pervasive. But, as one of the best journalists said, "That's the way it is." And the media is, for the most part, the conduit to the people, the means by which to inform of progress, or lack there of.

Ramble, ramble. Obviously, this idea's not fully baked yet. More later, maybe...

Meantime, here's a collection of hypoallergenic dogs.

news, pets and flix

In case you haven't heard, I quit my job.

The official announcement came in the middle of a big news day -- complete with a highly unusual action taken by the Star's editorial board.

In other news, the LA Times has a great photo gallery of presidential pets. Can't beat Harrison's goat!

And Allie and I are going to the movie tonight. Which should we see? This one? Or this?

odds and ends

I've been thinking of writing a post about why I like marathons so much. Haven't gotten around to it yet, obviously, so here's this, from the author of a new book about the NYC marathon, in the meantime:

I’ve covered the NBA, U.S. Open tennis and the Olympics, and I don’t think any one event captures the scale of humanity like the marathon.

...

One of my favorite artists is William Eggleston. And this is one of my favorite pictures by him:



...

Want to know more about the new second most powerful man in the world? This article is quite informative.

I read portions of it aloud to Allie last night, and she said he sounds like a dick.

Having worked in an executive office for a year and a half, my sense is that this is the right choice. He apparently knows everyone and everything. He's a proven political winner. He's a ball buster. And -- most important -- he appears to be a very close ally, someone Obama will be able to trust.

Here is another.

the moment

Annie Mae Rosemond, 105, in Greenville, South Carolina


Smut Eye, Alabama

Allie and I went to the Midland Theatre for the Missouri Democrats' watch party. Beautiful place. The place was jam-packed with just about every noteworthy Dem in KC. A giant screen above the stage was set on CNN.

When Ohio went to Obama, I knew it was over. Every projection had him in solid control of 84 electoral votes on the West Coast. Ohio took him to 200. Game over. When the Magic Screen Guy on CNN pointed this out, saying, "I can't really see any path to victory for McCain," a big cheer went up.

Then Virginia went blue, and everyone knew it was done deal. We counted off the seconds to the California polls' closing time and Barack's face filled the screen. The place just went nuts.

Then some pasty white dude took the stage and said he was head of the local Democrats and he started going off on, "We're right and they're wrong!" You know, We're right on health care, they're wrong! Bla bla bla.

And I was like YOU are wrong on the spirit of this moment.

Midway through the third obnoxious speech by a local Democratic hack, I turned to Allie and said, "Let's get out of here."

Out on the streets downtown you could hear cars honking everywhere, as if the Chiefs had won the Super Bowl. My cell phone rang, and it was Ebony hollering into the receiver as he and his friends were dancing their way through the streets of Louisville.

On the ride home we listened to McCain's consolation speech, and we were impressed. When we got home, we watched Obama's speech. I was really moved by his story of the 106-year-old woman who voted earlier that day, the way he worked through the events of America in the long span of her life, broken up with the refrain: Yes we can.

Today I had lunch with a friend of mine who I have long admired, a local community activist who happens to be black. He was at the Midland celebration, too, but I hadn't seen him there. Like me, and everyone else in the place, he was elated when CNN made the call. It had been a day like no other, starting when he showed up at the polling place and saw a line snaking far around the block, and ending at that same location with a DJ camped outside and a line of people cheering on everyone who passed by: Go voter! Go voter!

But te had the same reaction I did to the speeches afterward. He had to get out of there. He said even Obama's speech left him feeling a little flat.

It wasn't until earlier today, when he went to a local school, where the teachers and students of all grades, K through 12, were having a celebration rally. He said that every time someone said Obama's name into the PA system, the kids all jumped up and cheered. A vice principal showed a slide show he'd put together. It started with pictures of Barack, then him with his wife, then the whole family together. Then there were pictures of him with other kids. Lots of pictures, some taken from over Obama's shoulder so you could see the look on the kids' faces of awe and pride. Then there were pictures of Barack with crowds of people, growing ever larger.

And suddenly, there appeared an image of a slave ship, the famous one with all the bodies laid side-by-side across the cargo area floor.

"It was like this sudden shock," my friend said. "Then they showed a picture of Barack and everyone cheered."

Next appeared an image of people being blasted by water cannons, and then another of folks attacked by dogs, then a gruesome shot of lynching -- each one separated by President-Elect Obama. And with each flash on the screen, the kids cheered louder until the whole place was going wild.

My friend had finally found something that began to match the way he felt inside.

"Today, when people ask me how it feels, I honestly don't know what to tell them, because there's never been anything like it before," he said. "I just tell them, 'It feels new.'"

i voted

Allie and I got up at 5:30 and walked hand-in-hand to the polling place, arriving a little after six. The line stretched around the block. I was smiling widely as I passed all the people to find my place at the end.

As the line inched its way forward, more and more people came. A guy behind us looked around and groused, "Where is that kid? I hope he's not out smoking something. I don't trust him."

Just then a tall teen in a hooded sweatshirt crossed the street, his posture a little slumped.

"There he is!" the man said.

"Welcome to American democracy!" He said to the kid, and then to the crowd: "This is his first time voting. He's 18. Still in high school. Can you believe that?"

Everyone in line kept saying they'd never waited in line to vote before. I said to Allie, "I hate waiting in lines. But this is one line I'm glad is long."

I have a pretty strong hunch Obama is going to win in Missouri, and by a decent margin (by Missouri standards), despite the closeness of the polls. Turn out in Kansas City and St. Louis is going to be monumental. This will tip the balance in a state that is always close.

Remember, we elected a Democrat to the Senate two years ago. I didn't wait in no line on that election day.

I can get pretty cranky about humanity sometimes. But this really lifts my spirits. It is so awesome to see so many people out exercising their power as citizens -- the majority of them driven to action by a common desire for change and for a politics that transcends division. It's a beautiful, beautiful thing.

mclame

Meanwhile, over at McCain headquarters...

It's tough to win if you don't get out the vote.

countdown

I don't know if many of you watch Keith Oberman, but Allie and I have been of late. This is a pretty good sppof of it.

obamania 2

I rode my bike to Midtown today to meet a friend for coffee. On the way home, I decided to detour by the Obama office to see if I could sign in and help out for an hour or so.

I got to the door just as a woman and her two daughters were showing up, so I held it open for them. Then I glanced to my right and noticed that Senator Claire McCaskill was coming in right behind them.

McCaskill was there for a pep talk for the troops, and the local TV crews were all inside waiting for her.

The volunteers gathered around, looked to be at least fifty or so, while she delivered an impromptu stump speech. She said she'd been through many campaigns in "Missour-uh" and she'd never seen anything like this one.

"Usually when I show up at a campaign office this close to an election, I already know everybody," she said. "Here, most of you are strangers. How many of you are working on your first campaign."

Most of the hands shot up.

When I went to the counter to get my assignment, the woman handed me a map of a six-block area around Prospect. I told them I was on my bike, and I didn't have a backpack, so I couldn't really do it. I agreed to come back tomorrow. As if for consolation, she handed me a flyer for Joe Biden's appearance tomorrow in Lee's Summit. Everyone is so happy and friendly at the field office.

As I rode home through the Eastside, noticing the vacant storefronts and weedy lots, I thought about all the people out fanning the city, making sure everyone knows where to vote and has a ride to the polls. I wished I could be out knocking on doors along Prospect. A friend of mine on Facebook said she was out there yesterday. She's white. I thought it kind of neat to think of all these white people walking in black neighborhoods, not only not scared but actually grateful to not be in a white neighborhood, where the chances of running into a cranky McCain-Palin supporter would be much greater.

This seems to me to be a good thing.

Then I rode by the projects where a bunch of kids were out playing in the courtyard. Judging by the size of them, I'd guess the only president they've ever known is Bush. And now we're about to elect the first black president.

Some of the kids I know from Central are going to vote for the first time in their lives, and they're about to elect the first black president.

There was a poll released today that explains the blissful formlessness of this post. It was a dazzling autumn day, 70 degrees. Perfect.

obamania

Allie and I volunteered for Obama today.

We showed up at the Kansas City campaign headquarters in the early afternoon. It's a dazzling autumn day here today. The field office is in a little upscale strip mall a mile or so south of downtown. I'd guess it's 2,000 square feet, with storefront windows all around. The place is hopping. People are moving every which way, all with all kinds of Obama T-shirts and hats and stickers with their names on them and things like "I'm from Texas" and "of California" (on my first visit to the place a few weeks ago, I was greeted by a fellow from San Fran who had moved out here for a month just to turn our red state blue).

There are folks typing into computers, folks working phone, carrying clipboards, working the counter, handing out water bottles, blacks, whites, old folks, little kids, union guys with great big beards. When we we're standing in line to check in, a woman asks us if we could carry some stuff in from a truck out in the parking lot. We run out and grab great big bags of barbecue from KC Masterpiece and bring them into the inner sanctum where there is already a ton of food.

Today our job is canvassing. We're given a list of addresses in a nearby neighborhood, and off we go to knock on doors. The neighborhood is mostly apartment buildings -- the city kind that are several stories high with locked front doors. But we manage to find a few people. They're all voting for Obama. One guy even signs up to volunteer.

Back at HQ to turn in our sheets a couple of hours later, the place is even busier than before. There's a new spread of barbecue, this one from Gates, and across the room there's a great big table full of baked goods that folks have been bringing in all day. I look around to soak it all in. It's kind of like how it was during the mayoral campaign, at the doublewide, only much, much bigger and backed by a totally professional, well-funded operation. And this is just one city in a state that's gone Republican the last couple of times.

On the way there I said to Allie I'd never seen anything like this. I thought that maybe the Carter campaign was exciting. I couldn't tell if that was just because it was the first one I was really aware of, or if it were one of those big moments in American politics. It seems to me there was a lot of grassroots excitement, what with all the peanut stuff and the Billy Beer.

But this. This is something else.

Allie and I went to the rally in KC a couple of weeks ago, and we'd never seen anything like it. 70,000 people for a short political speech. The line was three to five people wide, and it snaked around the entire Liberty Memorial -- more than a mile long. We've both been in Missouri for two campaigns, and never have we seen this kind of excitement.

I talked with my uncle earlier today, and he said he worries a little bit about the inevitable disappointment. No doubt that, if elected, Barack is going to screw up here and there. He's inheriting some huge challenges, and he's going to lose at least a couple of political battles. There'll be times when he'll be a politician and piss us all off.

But even if he's a complete failure, I think all this is worth it.

What an incredible moment of hope and excitement in our nation. To have all these people from all these different backgrounds coming out everyday all across the country to work together to get this guy elected, it's just...

I'd almost say un-American if I weren't feeling so proud to be one.

funny video

joe the plumber

I wish I worked for Saturday Night Live this week. They're job was made very easy last night when both candidates tried to outdo one another in the race to help Joe the Plumber.

If you've got a minute, do a Google news search on "Joe the Plumber" and just read the headlines.

Also, I wonder if these guys are going to get a spike in business. Or if they'll sue.

periodic laundry list

I'm definitely not using this blog in a writerly way. It's more like a newsletter for family and a handful of friends. The most trivial and mundane newsletter on earth. So, in that spirit...

Allie and I saw a great movie last night -- Ghost Town. Afterward, I said to her, "That was our kind of movie." It's a romantic comedy with interesting characters. I think I'm turning into my Uncle Pete. I used to like grim movies with violence and unhappy endings. Now I have no fortitude for violence, and I much prefer to leave the movie feeling smily and stupid. So, Pete, I recommend you and Marilyn go check this one out.

I'm a month into my first grad school class and I'm absolutely loving it. It's a lit class about autobiography. We're starting with St. Augustine's Confessions and moving forward. I'm not crazy about the primary texts -- folks didn't write as well back then as they do now, in my opinion. But I love the critical and theoretical stuff that we're reading along with it. And I like writing the papers, though I was nervous until I got my first grades that I was doing it all wrong. New form of writing for me. I think academia is the right career choice for me. Definitely a better fit than politics.

Speaking of politics, I think I last wrote about the ordinance to ban the mayor's wife from City Hall. Well, we're still battling that. Meantime, we've been getting some pretty cool things accomplished. Last week, we created two alliances with other mayors -- one a caucus of mayors from our metro area, the other an alliance with mayors from the state's largest cities. I think both of these are going to be powerful and effective initiatives. We're also gaining momentum on our initiative to create "new tools" for economic development in distressed areas of the city. Next week I'm going to a conference in Miami about economic development in the inner city. I'm pretty sure I'll pick up some good ideas there to bring back home.

My experience at City Hall has made me somewhat ambivalent about the presidential election. It's hard not to see McCain and Obama as mythic figureheads of corrupt organizations. But still, one choice is clearly better than the other, from my perspective. And it's weird to think we're on the brink of electing the first black president and I'm not super excited about it. (Obviously, I think that the prospect of Palin in the White House horrifies me.)

Haven't been able to run for weeks. I've had ankle problems. It's been so bad and chronic that I had an MRI last week. I get the results from that on Tuesday. I'm really hoping it's not a stress fracture, because that would likely mean I can't run Chicago. But this weekend it's feeling better, first time in a month or so that I have no pain to speak of. So I'm hoping I can pull it off. I won't be running the race very fast, but that's OK because Chicago Marathon appears to be as much of a festival as anything -- a 26.2 mile long party, I'm told. With 40,000 runners and two million spectators. Should be very cool.

Allie and I have another pet. Actually, it adopted us, and we don't anticipate it will be with us long. It's a great big spider named Gordy that lives on our front porch. Every night he spins a beautiful, huge net near the porch light and catches all the bugs that fly in its glow. Last night, when we got home from the movie, we stopped to admire him as he was making his way around the web, a silvery strand trailing behind. Suddenly, he darted off to the other side of the web and pounced on a little bug that got caught. It was breathtaking. The night before, I spotted a praying mantis caught in the web. Gordy was smart enough not to pounce on him. So I took my car key and broke the mantis free. I went in and bragged to Allie about my heroism and she came out to catch a peek at the little fellow. He was so cute. Just like a little alien.

We made a couple of big domestic investments last weekend at Sears. We got a dishwasher that actually washes dishes, first one I've ever owned, and a Dyson Animal. Man, the new vacuum really sucks!

space olympics

This was my favorite thing on SNL last night:

now, dance

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

My uncle Pete sent me this video. So beautiful. Fits perfectly with where I'm at.

I've had a very trying few weeks. But ultimately I think they've been valuable.

A couple of Thursdays ago, nine members of the City Council co-sponsored an ordinance that would essentially ban the mayor's wife from working at City Hall. It's a clear effort to take him out by attacking him at a spot where he's most vulnerable.

For the following week, I was consumed with stress and anxiety. I could barely think straight, wasn't sleeping well at night, fell behind on my exercise and I wasn't eating well. There were moments when I thought I might well have an anxiety attack. Finally, I decided enough was enough and I told them I needed to take a week off, which I did last week.

It wasn't easy, you can well imagine, for a person like me who is so needy of others' approval. I felt guilty for leaving them stranded during a storm.

One of my main objectives for the week, though, was to read two books by Eckhart Tolle, who is sort of an unlikely pop spirituality star. Actually, I listened to them on my iPod while I did errands and chores and such. His main message is that life can only be found in the present moment, that the past and future are illusions where we live most of our lives, building stress and unhappiness. And he offers some practical suggestions about how to stay in the moment, and let go of all the drama of regret and anxiety and fear and whatnot.

It hasn't been easy. But I'm working pretty hard on it, trying to find ways to appreciate the present, to be present in it. He talks about how there are ideally three modes of being: acceptance, enjoyment and enthusiasm. The first is for when we're in situations that are unpleasant, the second is for pleasant moments and the third is the pleasant moments aimed toward a goal or a sense of purpose.

So the video from Pete is great. It's like a visual statement of what Tolle is talking about. What better example of enjoying the moment than dancing?

deena

As the Olympics were approaching, the event I looked forward to most was the women's marathon because Deena Kastor is one of my favorite athletes. So I was shocked and deeply disappointed to see her have to drop out just three miles in because of an injury.

Here's a video where she talks about the disappointment and how she's dealing with it. It's worth watching.

new yorker

A couple of years ago, my agent told me to forget about trying to write for the New Yorker. She said it's too clicky. You have to be a real insider to get a break with them. And besides, once you get in, they're a pain to work with.

So I stopped reading it. Sort of took the fun out of it.

But this week I'm going to have to buy a copy. They've got a long article about Ryan Hall.

medals map

This is a fascinating interactive data interface. It's interesting to click through the years and watch the spread of the circles. The first thing you notice is how north-heavy it is. That's to be expected, I suppose. But then when you get into the eighties, it's remarkable how much it spreads. It seems another strong piece of evidence for the so-called flattening of the world in the age of information.

super hot

This morning I ran 18.7 miles. It was about 80 degrees at the start, and 90 or so by the time I finished.

And I learned something along the way. When your body starts running low on liquid to sweat, you get goose bumps. It's kind of like a back-up cooling system. But it's not as efficient as sweat. So, soon after they appear, you start to bonk.

That's what happened to me. At about mile 15, I hit a wall. I had to do some walking and super slow jogging to make it all the way.

Afterward, I felt completely drained.

Allie and I went to the farmers market and we could hardly stand it, it was so hot. Allie couldn't believe I'd actually gone running in such weather.

When we got home, I flopped down in front of the TV and watched shows about the making of the National Stadium and Aquatics Center in Beijing.

Allie and I spent the weekend at the Mayor's cabin in the Ozarks. Wonderful place.

One the drive home, we bought nectarines, sweet corn, watermelon, muskmelon, zucchini and big fat sweet blackberries.

When we got home, we had a dozen or so ripe tomatoes waiting for us on the vine. Today, I picked four cucumbers. My cucumber plant has so far survived. This is a first for my garden. Every year the cucumbers and zucchinis die. This year, only the zucchini did. So now we have delicious cucs.

Tonight was my speed work out. We did four 800s, then four 400s, then another 800. Midway through, it started pouring rain. I'm the only man in my speed group. Tonight, all but one of the women beat me on just about every interval.

On Saturday, I ran in the Ozarks. Seven miles on a very hilly dirt road. It was absolutely beautiful, but hard.

As part of my current fascination with Iceland, I bought a couple of albums by Icelandic bands. Some of you might find Amiina and Apparat Organ Quartet.

It's raining like crazy outside, with great big thunder.

Saturday was great. I ran 16 miles in the morning. It was a hot day and a hilly course. But all weekend I felt like a total stud.

That afternoon, Allie and I took a drive into the country to pick blueberries and buy corn and peaches and buffalo meat. I didn't want to pick the berries, but I wound up loving it. It was a peaceful and beautiful activity. We came home with four pounds.

We bought the corn from three kids in a pick-up truck. There were two girls and a boy, ans the girls were quick to point out that they'd been there all day, but the boy hadn't. I said that boys are lazy, and the girl nodded emphatically. "Especially this one," she said.

At the buffalo farm we met a jack russell terrier. He was a little chubby, but he came right up to us and demanded a belly rub. As we exited the little store they had on the farm, he went running over to a couple of bison and started barking at them like he was boss. He was showing off for us.

Last night I did my third speed workout. I'm in the 4 group, which means I'm right in the middle. We did hill sprints and then quarter repeats. I was worried about the workout, but I hung right in there, knocking off three quarters at about 1:41 each. Afterward, and all day today, I've felt strength and healthiness. My leg muscles feel more powerful, my posture a little straighter, and each breath I take feels thick and sweet. It's such a cool thing to do, I think.

Being in the group is interesting. It's like being in high school cross country or track again, except we're all grown-ups with jobs. Everybody's got a different goal they're working toward, but we're all real serious about it.

While I'm running I feel like I'm an elite athlete. I know I'm not running as fast as one, and that I certainly don't look like I'm world-class, but it's kind of like playing air guitar to Jimi Hendrix -- I'm going through roughly the same motions Ryan Hall does when he's up with the front pack, so it's easy to slip a little into Walter Mitty mode.

But then... I'm doing quarters at 1:41. And I'm sucking wind at the end of each one. When I was 15, I ran a 10k at a faster pace. A much faster pace. So, it's easy to slip into the other direction, and beat up on myself for not sticking with track and cross country in high school and college. For not pushing my body to its limit when it was in its prime to see just how good of an athlete I could have been.

Oh well. Can't do nothing about that.

In other news, Allie and I have decided to go to Iceland next summer. I've wanted to go there ever since I saw something on PBS about the incredible music scene they have there.

So, for the past week or so I've been doing a lot of research on the weird little island and becoming more and more fascinated. On our trip, we are definitely going to go here, here, here, here, here, here and here.

That's right. How could we possibly pass up a chance to visit the Icelandic Phallological Museum?

A little late on the update this week...

Allie's birthday was yesterday. She got treated right this year. On Saturday, the day was all hers. We went shopping at Anthropologie and Barnes and Noble. We had dinner at her favorite restaurant. And we saw Hellboy at the drive-in.

On her actual birthday, she got three months of yoga and we went to the water park.

My sense is she's pretty ding-dang happy.

Last night I did a two-mile time trial. I finished in 14:55. I feel pretty good about it. I didn't really know what to expect. It was about 90 degrees, and I'd already been in the sun all day at the water park. It was very hard. By the end, I was completely winded and I thought I was going to puke. But I didn't.

According to various race prediction formulas, I should be able to run a marathon in the 3:45 to 4:10 range. That seems a little high to me. But given a full six months of solid, injury-free training, maybe it's possible.

Something tells me I won't be breaking four hours in Chicago, though, But we'll see.

In the garden, my zucchini plant died once again. It fell victim to those damned bugs that get it at the base of the stem. I thought I might have had it licked this year. Gloria told me to spread aluminum foil on the ground. Didn't work. I'm going to thoroughly research the issue this winter and give it one last try next year.

Work is going pretty good. If we can get this regional transit deal on the November ballot it'll be quite a coup. If you're following the issue in the paper, it doesn't look to promising. But from my vantage point there's still a reasonably good shot. At any rate, it'll be on the ballot next year, which is still a huge win for Mark's administration.

Allie and I are going to Iceland next year. We're already starting to plan. I got a good guide book with lots of pretty pictures. I don't know what's more fun -- travel or thinking about traveling.

Just a little more than three weeks until the Olympics. Here's a good article about why you should be a track and field fan. It has a great quote from Anthony Anthony Famiglietti.

After his win in Eugene, he said his goal was Olympic bronze. Not gold? "There's going to be people out there who cheat," he said. "I live in reality. But maybe I can sneak in and steal it from one of those dirty jerks and get the bronze."

My favorite!

office supply

I need one of these:

fam

I'm starting to get really stoked about the Olympics. The last time I was into the games was 1996. I didn't watch them at all in 2000 and 2004. This year I've actually got favorites that I'm pulling for.

One of my idols right now is Anthony Famiglietti, who'll be representing the U.S. in the steeplechase. He's just completely bad ass and totally cool.

Check out his website. Be sure to click on the "RUN LIKE HELL" link and watch the trailers for his movie.

If that doesn't get you fired up for your afternoon run, I don't know what will.

running and biking and clean livin'

Another week rolls by.

It was pretty slow at work, what with the holiday and all. Have to say I prefer it when it's hectic.

Allie and I took it pretty easy on the fourth. We barbecued and hung around the house.

We both made a pact this morning to improve our diets.

The lure of crappy foods has a fairly strong hold on both of us, so we're going to tag team it and eat more fruits and vegetables and the like. Which is convenient because we'll soon have a steady supply coming in from the backyard.

For me, diet is one of the missing pieces in my quest for a Boston Qualifier. I've been consistent with the training, joined a running club, been doing strength training, stretching before and after every run, been working real hard on my form, I'm going to be starting speed training this Tuesday.

I even got a stability ball chair for work so I can have better posture.

But I still basically eat whatever I feel like eating. That means several trips to Quiznos each week for lunch -- large tuna sandwich with cheese, bag of chips and large cookie. When I go to restaurants, I tend to go for the fatty meats. When I grill, I tend to do the same.

So now the plan is to eat more "real foods," as my new running coach calls it. Fruits, vegetables, nuts, lean meats, whole grains. That kind of stuff.

Hopefully it'll make me more energetic during the day, better fueled for runs and, above all, help me to lose the love handles I've acquired (which really freak me out, after a life of unearned skinniness.)

Speaking of Boston, I had a dream this week that I qualified. It was amazing. I was there at the beginning of the race and as the crowd took off I felt overwhelmed with joy. I was crying I was so happy.

It was a great dream. But it kind of spooked me out, too.

I've been watching the Olympic trials for track and field. I was happy to see Kara Goucher qualify in both the 10,000 and 5,000, because she went to CU.

The other cool thing was watching a 16-year-old set a national high school record for the 1500 and qualify for the finals.

Tonight's big deal event will be the men's 1500. I'm really hoping Gabe Jennings makes it.

I've started watching the Tour de France, too.

I wasn't going to, because I've become disenchanted by the recent doping scandals, but I got sucked in by the beautiful shots of the bikes rolling through the French countryside.

I was happy to see that the sport is trying to reinvent itself. Versus, which is broadcasting the event, has a promo ad that shows the scandals in reverse -- Floyd the Doping Mennonite has his yellow jersey removed, Jan the German doper rides backward and to a stop, and so on, while some song goes on about starting over again.

And there's a new American-based team that was originally called Team High Road that subjects itself to extra drug testing and is committed to ethics and all that. They're now called Team Columbia. So I'll pull for them. And if they get caught in a scandal, I'm going to swear off the sport forever. (I'm still a little bitter about that Mennonite guy.)

I guess that's it for now...

another week

Continuing in the habit of posting a laundry list once a week...

I had a great week.

At work, we started off with a totally corny press event that was one of the most successful of our term. To announce the passage of a new ordinance to limit the number of metal plates on city streets, we had the mayor hook one of them up to a crane and give the signal to yank it. (For those of you who don't live here: KC uses metal plates to temporarily cover utility cuts. They're all over the place and they're one of the things that annoy citizens most.) All the TV stations were there, several print reporters and a radio crew. In the paper we got front page of the metro and a glowing editorial.

Then, on Wednesday, we announced a new appointment to the Parks Board. The appointee, Meg Conger, was a great choice, and we again got real good coverage of our on-location press event.

It feels like we're getting good at this stuff. And we have a lot more to come in the coming months.

Allie caught my cold and has been bogged down with it all week. The only good thing about thing is that it's given me the opportunity to serve her a lot, and I've been more than happy to do that.

Despite her cold, she's been working. One of her assignments was to write about the people who brought the Garden Weasel to America. I had no idea that these people are in Kansas City. I was so thrilled when she told me this that I could hardly stand it. But I also felt guilty because just a couple weeks ago I went to Home Depot specifically to buy a Garden Weasel. But all they had was an impostor, the Garden Hound Dog. To assuage my guilt, I immediately got online to buy a Garden Weasel hat. It arrived on Friday, and it is now my official gardening uniform.

I started my running group yesterday. I ran 10 miles and it was fantastic. This is going to turn out to be one of the best things I've ever done. When I came home from the first run, Allie said I was positively glowing. Soon they will be starting mid-week speed training. I'm so excited!

The garden is in great shape. We're having troubles with our camera, so I haven't been posting pictures. I should get that fixed this week, shouldn't I? Most of the tomato plants have reached the tops of their cages, and I have little green fruits on several of them. I'm just now pulling up a second batch of radishes, which means we need to make hummus for sandwiches. Should have beans soon. Peppers appear to be a ways off.

Mostly what I love is to get lost in the work of it. I'm just so happy when I have on my iPod and good podcast going and I'm out there pulling weeds and fussing with plants and stuff. I think it's what life is all about.

My back is feeling a lot better. I appreciate the uncle advice. I'm going to check into both things.

Until next week...

odds and ends

Allie got me a book for my birthday called The How of Happiness. It had some good information in there about ruminating and overthinking. These are two things that I do often and they tend to make me unhappy. This book had some good suggestions about how to stop doing this. I got so into the whole concept that I tracked down a book by the leading scholar on the issue and bought it, despite the title.

Work is a real challenge for me in this area. Seems there's always something for my mind to chew on, usually a resentment against somebody who's working against us in some way or another. Lately I've had intense resentments against the local paper. It's absolutely astonishing how biased they are. I mean, I always knew it. As a reporter at the Pitch their particular slant annoyed me to no end. But now that I'm working for a concern that is on the unfavorable end of their bias, it really boils my blood sometimes.

So, yeah. Overthinking. I often think that the reason why I'm in this job is to overcome my hangups.

Haven't been able to run for most of the last week because I came down with a cold. I finally emerged from it today, and set out to spend the whole day in the yard. Got a lot done until I was yanking on a vine and I felt a sudden sharp stab in my back. The pain was so intense that I couldn't really move, so I sort of crumpled down on the ground, rolled into a sort of crawl position and then after a while managed to find an angle for my back to where I could stand up. I can move around a bit more now but it's still pretty bad. Not sure what to do. I've been seeing a sports chiropractor, so I might go see him. I don't have any doctor that I like or trust. Besides the pain it sucks because I really wanted to knock off a long list of yard stuff. Oh well. I guess I have reached the stage in manhood when my back bill is due. It happens to most of us, don't it?

This week I'm going to join a running group. It costs more than I thought it would, but I think it'll be worth it.

faster

I'm definitely getting faster. I ran four miles last night, doing a run/walk plan of 30 seconds per half mile. Over all I came in under ten minutes a mile, and for the running sections, I ranged from 9:45 to 9:05, according to my Garmin.

At work, I interviewed a prospective employee who ran middle distances in college. His PR for the marathon is 2:32. He said he could get me down to a 3:30.

Of course, folks will say anything for a good job, won't they?

super mayor

I was in Washington D.C. this week with the mayor for an event hosted by the Brookings Institution. While there, the mayor appear appeared on C-SPAN's Washington Journal and testified before the Senate Committee on Banking, Housing and Urban Affairs.

The Senate affair was a trip. He testified on a panel of mayors that included Michael Bloomberg of New York.

Before the meeting, we waited in an ante room outside the committee chambers. The mayor chatted with Shirley Franklin, mayor of Atlanta, and John Peyton, mayor of Jacksonville. Then a few senators showed up, and finally Bloomberg arrived with his entourage of six or seven staffers. As soon as he appeared, it was time to go.

They opened the door to the chambers, and there was a wall of photographers clicking away -- all of them there for Bloomberg. They kept their cameras trained on the super mayor as he made his was around the room to his seat and while he testified their shutters fired nonstop.

Mayor Franklin spoke after him and about three of the photographers took some pictures of her. Then for Mayor Peyton I think one took a couple shots. Mayor Funkhouser was last, and I was focused on what he was saying so I couldn't tell if anyone took a picture. But if one had, I'm sure it would've been just one or two.

All this was very interesting, because just two days earlier we had been informed by a reporter at our hometown paper that no one would be covering the event. Upon hearing this, my colleague Kendrick called an editor to complain.

Afterward we got a Lexis-Nexis tally of coverage for the event. There was a nice big story from the Atlanta paper, and an even longer one from AP, in which Funk got the top quote and the kicker quote. But when we got home and opened our hometown paper the next day we found a six-inch story buried in the B section -- not even a quote in it.

The whole trip was surreal. In DC, he was highly revered. At this Brookings event, for instance, he was asked to give the closing thoughts. And this was no small thing. It was the largest event in the history of the institution. After his testimony before Senate he got tons of praise from the senate aides and the lobbyists who were all hustling around the scene.

What's more, everyone out there was saying the same stuff the mayor's been saying in KC. They were all talking about the need for regional cooperation on transit, the need for increased investment in infrastructure, the need to start acting strategically and to stop playing politics.

But back home, he's considered a loser by the political insiders -- which includes the folks at the paper. So frustrating. So strange.\

Funny thing, though. Bloomberg was widely detested his first year or so in office. He joked about this while testifying. Referring to how tough it is to be a mayor, he said something like, "If you want to ban smoking, close fire stations, take over the school district and have a parade on Staten Island. All of which turned out to be very popular. So what do I know?"

So maybe our trials are all just par for the course.

ridiculous

Check out this absurd stuff.

40

I turned 40 today.

I got up at 5:30, let the dogs out, fed them, made coffee, took a cup to Allie, stretched and ran three miles with some sprints mixed in. It's a nice day and I wish I could spend it in the garden rather than at work.

kansas

For my birthday, Allie treated me to a weekend trip in Kansas. We headed out Friday night and stopped at the AmericInn in Russell where we'd hole up for the night before going to Lucas the next day.

I first visited Lucas 14 years ago, right after I graduated from college. Back then, the only thing in town was the Garden of Eden. There was a storefront with a sign promising the future home of the Grassroots Arts Center. Now, for my 40th birthday, I was finally getting an opportunity to see it.

As we drove west on Friday night, we passed a wind farm. It didn't exist the last time I drove through, in 2005. It was so beautiful in the late evening light, with the sun setting behind the windmills.

The next day I went for a five mile run on a very windy morning. Then we drove the 30 miles to Lucas. We first went to the Garden of Eden. It was just as cool as ever, though Dinsmoor's body has really decomposed.

Behind Dinsmoor's Cabin home was The World's Largest Collection of the World's Smallest Versions of the World's Largest Things. Very cool.

Then it was off to the Grassroots Arts Center for a full tour. It was quite a good museum. We bought T-shirts and a little tin sculpture of an elephant.

The museum was hosting an toilet seat art contest. They're trying to raise money for a public restroom for Lucas. For five dollars, you could enter your own decorated toilet seat. Allie and I decided to give it a shot. We bought a toilet seat and some Sharpees and covered it with a retelling of the Bible story about the original sin in which it isn't Eve eating the apple but Adam leaving the toilet seat up. We laid out the story in big blocky letters and simple drawings just like a folk art piece. We're going to drop it off at the museum today.

All in all a very fun birthday weekend.

changes

As per my uncle's request, I've reactivated the site feed function. I also kicked a couple of people off who I don't know and one person who is a newspaper editor. I've left on the wife of a newspaper writer, but I'm friends with her and her husband and I trust them.

This is all a sort of backwards way of saying I'm hoping to post more, and post more about work.

Today the mayor got sued. On second thought, I must edit here.

update

Everyone has been complaining about the lack of posts. Sorry about that. I've been busy with marriage, gardening, marathon training and the mayor's office. I think we should all come to grips with the fact that I'm going to be one of these post-every-couple-weeks-with-a-laundry-list-post kind of bloggers. Much as that sucks.

First, marriage. Allie and I are doing great. Very much in love. Which is all too vast and personal and wonderful to express in this forum. We're slowly remodeling the kitchen.

Second, gardening. We've been eating lettuce and radishes for weeks now. Got some chard that's ready to pick. In early spring we had some nice over-winter spinach that was fabulous. Now all the hot weather plants are in the ground -- tomatoes, peppers, okra, beans, eggplant, ground cherries, various herbs. And the asparagus I planted a while back has come up and now we've got some wispy little trees here and there. Over Memorial Day weekend I spent many hours out in the yard, listening to audiobooks and just loving every minute of it.

With the running, I'm still technically in my recovery period after the Flying Pig. Official training for Chicago doesn't start for a couple of weeks. But I've pretty much already started laying the foundation. My plan for Chicago is to run three days a week, and bike and do strength training the other three. For the three running days, I'll do two with some sort of speed or agility/stride training and one long run. I've been doing this schedule for about two weeks now and I'm actually feeling myself get stronger. I also seem to have bumped up a notch on the speed meter. I'm now clicking along at less than 10 minutes a mile, once I get warmed up. That's pretty encouraging.

In the mayor's office, it's been very exciting. As a candidate, Mark campaigned for a regional transit system built around light rail. Once in office, he started really pushing it. Soon it became his number one priority. All along the way the newspaper and political smart people have been basically calling him a fool saying there's no way you can get a regional, multi-county system approved by voters all at once. They've all been saying you have to start with a "starter line" -- a short showpiece running from downtown to some of the tourist attractions. "Every other city has done it that way," they say.

Well, they think he's nuts, and we think they're out of touch with the mood of the public. And we finally got to prove it. We were able to have a poll conducted which showed overwhelming support for the concept of a regional system and better-than-50-percent support for a sales tax for that concept. Light rail has never polled that well in KC (except once when it was on the ballot as an impossible plan to span the whole city with no tax increase, which was later repealed). What's more, the "starter line" concept polled miserably.

So we had a chance to gloat around the office knowing all the political wisdom was wrong and we were right. Of course, the know-it-alls haven't admitted this. They've either continue insisting that a starter line is the best way to go, even though all evidence suggests it'll lose, or they act like they agreed with us all along.

Kind of fun, kind of infuriating.

So now the push is to try to get it on the November ballot. To do that, we have to convince three county legislatures to go for it which remains a pretty daunting task at the time of this writing. But yesterday we hosted a summit of local elected officials and about half of them agreed that November's the best time to do it. Others want to wait until next year.

Either way, the mayor is big winner. Let's say he "fails" to get it on this year's ballot, and it's delayed a year. That's still years and years ahead of how conventional political wisdom had things going. They said that we'd only get a regional system after KCMO approves, builds and gets up and running a small starter line. Once the outlying communities see how cool it is, the wisdom goes, they'll want it for themselves. Considering that it'll take at least 7 years to get the first segment up and running, you're looking at well over a decade before the region is on board.

But now, thanks to the skyrocketing cost of gas and the frenzy for "green" solutions, and the mayor's dogged determination, the entire debate has shifted and the timeline has accelerated.

So consider this. The two previous mayors each served two terms. They both had "legacy" projects -- big ticket developments like an arena, downtown entertainment district, improvements to Brush Creek, etc. All of these things happened in their second terms and they were Kansas City-only projects in the hundreds of millions. Now it's looking highly likely that this mayor will have pushed for and won a $1.2 billion, possibly $1.8 billion project done in collaboration with three counties and nearly 50 municipalities -- barely halfway through his first term.

And there will be no disputing that this is his initiative. In the early stages it was only him pushing it -- driving in his Toyota to distant suburbs to meet with mayors to sell the idea, taking constant hits from the newspaper and those in the political know. They all came out on the record, saying loudly and clearly that it was a bad idea, that it would fail, yadda yadda yadda.

During our first year, when things were rocky, all the people "in the know" were saying this mayor's a failure, a one-termer. There was talk of a recall effort, then a silly ill-fated one, and a lot of these folks -- including newspaper columnists -- thought it was plausible. I think a lot these folks still think he's a bumbling mayor, that his chances of reelection are slim. But I'm telling you, they are drunk on conformity. By the end of his first term, this mayor will have so many accomplishments, will have such enormous name recognition, that there will be no way any of these tired old power players will have a chance to beat him.

There. How's that for a rant. Good thing this blog is by invitation only, huh?

the pig has flown

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I finished my second marathon of the year on Sunday. It was fun, but the last two miles were pure agony.

Allie and I drove to the Cincinnati area on Friday. We stayed with her friend Amy.

On Saturday we went to the new Ikea. It was overwhelming. Afterward we drove into Cincinnati. I went to the race expo, and then they dropped me off at a hotel so I could get to the race more easily in the morning. There was a Narcotics Anonymous convention at the hotel, and they were partying in the pool area, right below my window. But I put in earplugs, turned the TV on static and slept with a pillow over my head. That did the trick.

The next morning, on my way to the race, I bought a Sharpee. After I parked my car near the race, I wrote on my running singlet "JOE from K.C. MO." This turned out to be a very wise move.

We started by Paul Brown Stadium, where the Bengals play. The start was delayed 15 minutes. None of us knew why.

With a gun blast, the race began. We crossed a beautiful bridge just as the sun was rising. Then, a couple miles later, we crossed back on another bridge with a beautiful view of downtown. By the time we got to the skyscrapers, the crowd had spread out a bit. There were a lot of people lining the streets. With the crowd thinned somewhat, spectators could see my shirt and they started to cheer for me. It was surreal. We were running into the morning sun and the people on the sidewalks were silhouetted but they were all calling my name as if they knew me or I were the most popular person in south Ohio.

We climbed a long hill into a lovely park overlooking the city and the Ohio River. Then we passed through a trendy area where Allie and Amy were waiting for me to pass.

A little ways later, I saw several runners huddled by the side of the road. As I approached, I noticed they were surrounding someone who was laying on the ground. A few more steps and I made out a couple people kneeling over him pumping his chest and blowing into his mouth. As I passed, I saw that his face was purple.

This was an unsettling sight, to say the least, especially at such a fun, silly event. There were all kinds of people out cheering the runners on (me in particular, by name). A lot of them wore flying pig paraphernalia. I high-fived a human-sized pig and an equally tall chicken. There were pirates serving water and Gatorade in one spot, and beach bums in another.

I did the run-walk thing for the first 8 miles, then I decided to run between the aid stations. My goal was to break 5 hours.

I had to pee three times in the first half, so I was pretty far behind schedule. But as I ran, I seemed to be gaining ground. At mile 20, I passed the five-hour pace group. I thought for sure I had it in the bag.

At mile 22, I passed the guy in the full-body shark costume.

Then, at 23 or 24, I hit the wall big time.

By the time I got to the 25.2 mile mark, where the guy said, "Just one more mile to go," I exclaimed, "Fuck it!" and started to whttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifalk. Just then, a woman who was passing me turned and said, "Come on, Joe! I've been hearing your name the whole way. You can't give up now."

So I willed my body into a pathetic, painful shuffle and forced myself toward the finish line. At first, it looked really close, and I felt relieved. Then it telescoped away, like a dream sequence in a bad 70s tv show. At the 26 mile mark, I suddenly heard Allie and Amy. I looked over at them just as I was passing. They would later say that they were worried I was angry at them. That's how bad I looked.

When we got home, I looked up my official time. 5:02:56.

I was dumbfounded. How could I run all that way and make up so little time over Austin?

The next morning, on our way home, we picked up a local newspaper. On the front page was about the man I saw fallen on the side of the road. Allie read it to me as I drove. I was happy to learn that he survived.

Allie also read the news that the race had been delayed because of a house fire on the course. This caused a last-minute change in the route which added at least a quarter mile. My face brightened.

"That means I probably broke five hours!"

We'll see. It's going to be close.

8:11 mile

Today I ran the Trolley Run. It's a four-mile point-to-point with a lot of gentle downhills. I finished in 32:43, an 8:11 pace. It felt pretty darned good, like I was running right at the edge of my ability. Maybe I could've gone a little faster, but not much.

I'm pleased with my performance. Six weeks ago, I ran 4 miles in 36, a 9-minute pace. That was a hillier course, and it was colder. But still, I propelled my body through space and time at a much faster rate than before.

According to an online pace prediction calculator, this means that I ought to be able to run a marathon in 4:03. Of course I can't do that right now. I will not do this in Cincinnatti. But given my current fitness level, if I were to do more training at higher pace for longer distances, I should be able to do it. In fact, it's more likely that if I embark on a training program like that I will wind up running a 4 mile faster, kicking the whole prediction model up a notch or two.

Which is all a longwinded way of saying that maybe, just maybe this "qualifying for Boston when I'm 45" thing could work after all.

Still, I have a ways to go. If I were to run as fast as I did today for 26.2 miles, I would still miss qualifying by almost five minutes. To make it, I would have to maintain 8-minute miles the whole way.

But while I still have a ways to go, I also have plenty of time. I haven't even really begun speed training yet. In fact, I haven't really done a sustained time-goal training program yet. My first will be for Chicago, which will be the culmination of an 18-week training program developed by Matt Fitzgerald, in conjunction with participation in a running club. I have a hunch that I met well make a good run at the four-hour barrier in that race, if training goes well.

In other news: I'm going to be on The Walt Bodine Show tomorrow, talking about speech writing. It is at 10 a.m. Central time. You can listen online if your like.

speech writing

Today, I pretty much finished writing the state of the city address. Between now and Thursday, all we'll be doing is tweaking it as the mayor practices reading.

This has been a terrific writing challenge. I've learned a lot, and I think my writing has taken a major step forward.

Early in the process, Funk loaned me On Speaking Well, by Peggy Noonan. It quickly became one of the most influential books I've ever read.

Her guiding principles for speech writing are really simple. They're almost obvious, except they never would've occurred to me if I hadn't read them. They're basically this:

The strength of a speech lies in the logic of its argument and the policy at its core. Everything else is just bullshit.

In other words, don't set out to write a moving speech, or a funny speech, or a speech that'll inspire or anger. Just write a logical argument as clearly as possible. And make it about something real. And let all that other stuff -- humor, inspiration, anger, the full range of emotions -- emerge naturally.

I think this is something I've stumbled into accidentally, through the course of being a writer and trying to improve. But now that I have it before me as a basic formula I feel like a karate student who has finally mastered an advanced move.

world records

One of the exciting stories going into the London Marathon was a 101-year-old man's attempt to run it. He would be the oldest man to have ever run the distance. Now it appears the record is in doubt. Still, there were a number of records set on Sunday. From the London Times:

A number of world records were set at yesterday’s marathon, including the fastest time for those dressed as a film character, Santa, fireman and clown. However, four men attempting to break the world record for fastest marathon dressed as a superhero were not so super. None bettered the record of 3 hours, 4 minutes and five seconds.

Carlsbad and Austin

I finally uploaded my GPS data from the Carlsbad and Austin races. Check out the maps. Austin has "street view" available for every inch of it, so you can actually do a virtual tour of the course. Carlsbad only has street view for some.

Austin

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Carlsbad

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london to kansas city

I woke up about 4 this morning and couldn't go back to sleep, so I logged on to the live coverage of the London Marathon and caught the tail end. I was hoping I might see Ryan Hall in the lead pack, but he had fallen off by then.

Still, he wasn't that far behind. He finished a mhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifinute back from the winner, Martin Lel, who set a course record. He came in fifth in what was one of the fastest marathons of all times. Never before have three runners in a race finished under 2:06. Hall almost made it under, with 2:06:16.

Hall is definitely going to be a contender in Beijing.

Looks like a super cool race. Beautiful course, of course, with spectators lining the street several deep. Check out this with all the crazy characters out running.

Though I was tired from lack of sleep, I decided to jump right into my weekend long run. Turned out to be a great idea.

We're having another cold snap. It was about 34 when I started, but I was appropriately dressed and my mind was in an acceptance mode, so it actually felt pretty good.

I figured it might be a good idea to shake things up, so I left Cliff Drive about two miles in and took a detour through the East Bottoms up to River Market. Once I got there I felt so good, and the scenery was so interesting, I just kept going, picking up pieces of the Riverfront Heritage Trail (which is a pathetic joke), until I wound up down in the West Bottoms.

From there, the only way home is back through Downtown. But instead of heading straight back, I did an extra loop around the park overlooking Cliff Drive to boost the mileage up to 16 for the day.

Good run!

I think I'm definitely ready for the Flying Pig.

20

Today I did a 20 mile run with a local running club.

We met at 6:30 at Olathe North High School, and did an out-and-back on the lovely Mill Creek Streamway.

I don't feel too bad, considering.

I've been really working on my form lately. I've gone back and reread Brain Training For Runners, and I'm trying to the proprioceptive cues he suggests. I think it's working. That plus the strength training and cross-training I've been doing (though I've fallen out of my strength training routine a little bit). I've definitely been avoiding some of the more serious injury type pains I've felt in the past (knock wood). All I feel is sore. Which is probably what I ought to be feeling after a 20 miler.

At the end of the run, I talked for a while with the guy who runs it. He's a coach, and he helps folks in the group who are at all levels.

I asked him if it's possible for someone to go from a five-hour marathon to 3:30 in five years or so.

He asked me how fast I was when I was younger.

Fast, I said. I ran about 36 or 37 for a 10k.

At that, he said I could probably do it. Or that it would be a 50/50 shot. The important thing is that I have the genes to go fast. I've just got to relearn what my body knew when I was 15.

This was all very encouraging. I've been worrying lately that I've lost my speed forever.

So for now, here's the plan. After running the Flying Pig, I'll come back and regroup and join this running club when they start back up in late June. I'll go through a regular marathon training program to get ready for the Chicago Marathon in October (which I just registered for yesterday). But a month or so before that race, I'll do an all-out 5k race, just to see how fast I can go. Then we'll take the time for that one and come up with a prediction time for Chicago. Then we'll see how it goes.

From there, it'll be new time goals each year until, hopefully, I'll be hitting 3:30 about the time I'm 45.

Allie and I are going out for pizza tonight.