Not Just A Hat Rack

Change of Seasons

Happy Labor Day!

The ceremonial last day of summer has never meant much to me - too busy putting on the last game of the baseball season, a holiday weekend soccer matchup or something like that.

This year, Labor Day meant a trip to Goblin Valley State Park in southern Utah, enough spare time to read Randy Pausch's Last Lecture, the realization that summer's over and all THREE kids go to school this coming week, an energized debate about the governor of Alaska/Republican Veep candidate, and a fable about an imaginary friend named Freddy who almost caused me to get a speeding ticket.  Plus, handball practice starts Tuesday.  Phew.  Lots going on.

Goblin Valley takes the cake though.  Voted one of the best family campgrounds in America, yadda yadda, we went with some friends and their church-going camping friends.  Except for a woman named Jackie, who our daughter immediately adopted as her "local grandma", we were the first ones to arrive - an all-time record in the Thomas-Pastorino household since the arrival of kids.  We're NEVER the first ones there, but I took Friday off (handball more than got its money's worth out of me in the past three weeks) and enjoyed the leisurely drive to the park about 30-some miles northwest of Moab.  Friday night we took in 7,500 stars, the milky way and several shooting stars in one of the darkest spots in the United States.  How cool.

Saturday, we set off at 2pm for Little Wild Horse Canyon - a slot canyon with some much-needed shade from the 95-degree waning summer heat.  The kids loved it, hiked the 3+ miles without too much incident or complaint and climbed, dug and otherwise explored the canyon to their heart's content.  We went scorpion hunting with a black infrared light after dark (and s'mores) - and found two.  We're not sure we're excited to have seen them or nervous to know they lurk in the dark in our deserts.

Today we drove home in a wintry monsoon - the outside temp pegged at 55 degrees as we pulled into SLC in a driving rainstorm (snow in the mountains!).  Summer is over!  (Well, it'l flare up again, but it breaks a 90-ish day streak without more than .01 inch of rain. 

I don't know where to start to write about Last Lecture.  The book is inspiring. The story is so overtold, it's almost cliched.   I felt like I was way ahead of the curve on Bridges of Madison County and Kite Runner but in this case, I feel like the last guy left in America who hadn't read Pausch's account of his opportunity to deliver a last lecture before succumbing to pancreatic cancer.  (He passed away July 25.)  I'll have to go watch the YouTube video when I feel like a roller-coaster of laughs and tears.  Pausch reminds me of one character in my life to an incredible degree.  I'll let you guess who.  Pick it up, especially if you have a spouse and kids.  Think about what's really important.

On another front, I thought McCain's pick was rather forward-thinking and interjected a new (if severely underqualified) voice into the contemporary political scene (and presidential race).  Then, I spent the weekend with several educated, liberal, professional women who hold him in utter contempt for daring to reshape the male-female political dynamic by naming such an ill-prepared, "right wing" woman as the "safe, pro-woman choice who would shut up, stay out of the way and let him run his presidency." (And that's editing the words significantly for my family-friendly blog!)  Wow, is there some anger on behalf of some women.  The more I read about Sarah Palin, the more I might agree.  At least if McCain/Palin (Geezer & Gidget, according to today's SL Trib), I'd have a vice-president with a daughter with the same name as one of my dogs, Piper.  Can't say much else positive about her.  Oh yes I can... I dislike her LESS than Mitt Romney.

Finally, our minivan was driving Mrs. 'Hat Rack nuts around Price this afternoon, severely infringing on her knitting abilities.  So after checking our the Cleveland-Lloyd Dinosaur Excavation Site ("Follow this dirt road for 30 miles...") and deciding to see it on our next trip to central Utah, I told the kids that we'd picked up Freddy, an imaginary friend for the rest of the ride home.  Freddy has red hair, one green eye and one blue, is 8 years old, loves dinosaurs and sat next to our daughter in the minivan.  This caused great gnashing of teeth, "Freddy's not reeeeeeallll!" - but definitely killed 20 minutes of the drive, until a cop pulled me over for speeding.  (Question - I thought cops had to be still to get accurate radar times, but this guy pulled me over after passing me while he was driving 60 mph himself in the oncoming traffic...)  Anyways, after checking our docs and decided we were insured, not running from the law, not hauling non-resident watermelon farmers and otherwise looking like a sad-sack family coming home a day early from vacation due to change of seasons... he let me off with a warning.  Thanks Freddy!  (Freddy knows some cops apparently).

Tour de Life ... in our neighborhood

 On Tuesday night, Mrs. 'Hat Rack and I debated who would attend here Mom's Group book club.  We were both slated to attend in a special "couples" edition, but the sitter fell through.  She dispatched me.

We were discussing Tour de Life, the story of American cyclist Saul Raisin.  Raisin was competing in April 2006 when he suffered a devastating bike crash which plunged him into a coma, paralysis and nearly cost him his life.  As he lies silent in a French hospital, his parents fret in Dalton, GA before flying to Europe, uncertain if their son will even survive the week.

Less than six months later, as carefully detailed in a narrative that makes it feel like a lifetime, Raisin has defied every neurologist's expectation, and awakened, rallied, walked and ridden a bike.  By January 2007, he is training with the world-reknowned Credit Agricole cycling team in France and dreaming of competing in the Tour de France.

The book club took place in co-author Dave Shields' home, and Raisin was present.  The pair held court for 90 minutes, finishing each other's stories, showing how Raisin's scoliosis-racked back actually created a chest cavity and heart of immense proportions, answering questions they'd heard for a year now, and patiently advocating Saul's Raisin Hope cause. 

Saul took ample time to talk about Tramatic Brain Injuries (TBI), which not only devastate the victim, but cause chasms in relationsihps with loved ones (70% in fact).  TBI doesn't get the attention that super-charities like Leukemia Society and Lance Armstrong's Livestrong, but Raisin is determined to devote his life, with its boundless energy and sunny disposition, to TBI-related advocacy, primarily through his Raisin Hope Foundation.  

We love Salt Lake for the personal access we have to events like this.  As for the book, it's well worth the read - and a valuable inspirational work for anyone in need of a boost.  Buy a copy - for the cause, and for the story.  It will be on my office bookshelf (signed), as soon as Mrs. 'Hat Rack finishes.

This and That...

Sir Edmund Hillary passed away yesterday. Ironically, I was working on a 2008 trekking preview for Snow Lion, including an ascent up the "Hillary Route" to Everest Base Camp, when I learned the news. It's safe to say that the company, and the Himalayan trekking industry, would not exist, at least in their present form, if it were not for the gentle 6'5" beekeeper whose humanitarian work on behalf of the Sherpas is immeasurable. "Nothing Venture, Nothing Win" was the book-length biography I read as a teenager and has inspired me to back down from no challenge ever since.

The current issue of Runner's World has a gripping series of stories on the 2007 Chicago and New York Marathons. Two of the largest races in the country, both were marked by tragedy. The magazine took a Newsweek style approach to understanding the factors that led to the cancellation of the Chicago race several hours in, due to extreme heat conditions. Then, editor Amby Burfoot spent several days following up on the death of U.S. marathoning star Ryan Shay at the Olympic Trials in New York City. Good stuff, whether you run or not. Speaking of running, it's Disney Marathon weekend in Orlando. Mrs. 'Hat Rack is going after another personal first. She'll run the Half Marathon on Saturday and the Full Marathon on Sunday (that's 39.3 miles in all) - all in pursuit of a medal shaped liked Goofy. That is goofy. But we love her!

Kevin Sites' In the Hot Zone is worth a read, folks. And not just because we both graduated from Medill, Northwestern's journalism school! He visited 20+ war zones in one calendar year including the obvious ones, Afghanistan, Iraq, Sudan, etc. He also checked in on the Maoist insurgency in Nepal, the tenuous ceasefire in Congo, monks vs the military in Burma/Myanmar, the aftermath of war in Vietnam and Laos, etc. I'm in awe of his dedication to shed light (and hope) on some of the most depressing examples of humankind's dark side. I think I'd have post-traumatic stress disorder. I bought it in the Fall, which makes it's references to events from last July all the more remarkable. You don't get much more current than this in a widely published book these days!

I talked to RSL GM Garth Lagerwey this week in anticipation of my next Salt Lake Tribune column next week, which will be on the MLS SuperDraft... He should be in Florida by now at the Player Combine. Knowing the pressures of the chair in which he sits, its challenges, and the passion that you have to bring to it, I'm rooting for him.

I'm also rooting for the Red Rocks. Utah's nationally ranked women's gymnastics team takes on nemesis and defending NCAA champion Georgia tonight at Huntsman Center. I won't make it, but if you're in the neighborhood and have never attended a meet, don't miss it! Arrive early - this one might sell out. (That's right, 16,000 people at a gymnastics meet. Gotta love it!)

Books That Make a Difference in the World

I purchased a used copy of the AP Style Guide (I have two freelance writing assignments ... and counting!) at Barnes & Noble's website today. I learned that I was actually purchasing it from Better World Books, an online bookstore which uses its proceeds to fund literacy programs around the world. How cool is that?

I learned that this company is the brainchild of some Notre Dame grads who decided to make some money selling their textbooks at the end of a school year. Having been successful, they launched a campus-wide book drive and raised $8,000 for a local community learning center. Several years and more than $2,000,000 in funding raised, they're still at it. I'm impressed.

Law of Dreams

Peter Behrens' coming-to-America novel Law of Dreams follows a poor Irish farmboy through potato-famine era tragedy and misery.  It's a satisfying country byway of a tale with a gripping storyline.  A veritable stew of characters enter and exit the narrative, constantly encouraging the reader to question their motives, sincerity and fate.  A reader is never quite sure whether it's worth "rooting" for any character.

Fergus O'Brien is the yo ung protagonist who flees the farm his family has worked when the potatoes come up black.  Sent to a "workhouse", he doesn't last there long either.  He is called by the road, by a life incompatible with staying anywhere, and days of chasing and pursuing follow.  He pursues opportunity.  He chases food.  He seeks women, companionship.  He follows dreams.  But, mostly he flees stillness.  Like the quiet wake of a slowed ocean liner in a riverway, Fergus leaves a trail of corpses, suffering and greed.

"The world is strangers," Behrens writes as he introduces us to plenty.  He opens with  Carmichael, the farmer, with his comely daughter Phoebe.  Murty Larry befriends Fergus in the workhouse.  Luke leads an Oliver Twist street urchin army called the Bog Boys.  Mary runs Shea's Dragon, a Irish outpost with a lyrical sound and a lurid story.  Muck Muldoon fights man and horse - he's a bare-knuckled villain of a boss.  Molly is with Muck.  William Ormsby is the sage traveler with tales of Indians encountered, vanquished or married.  Behrens keeps them coming.  They appear in the road like oncoming carriages.  And by and large they pass, some leaving an indelible mark on Fergus, some like a deep bruise fester under the skin.

Law of Dreams is a journey well worth the cost of passage.  Reviewers consider it a well-researched voyage of historical fiction.  For me, it's an emotional snapshot, carefully written, of a doomed generation of Irish souls.

Is courage just the awareness that gestures, journeys, lives have intrinsic shape, and must, one way or another, be completed?  That there is a path to be followed, literally to the death?  Awareness is harsh but better than being unaware, never sensing a path.  Better than a life of stunts, false starts, dead ends.  Better than the irredeemable ugliness of the halfhearted.  Better than feeling there is no shape to anything - there is.  The world knows itself.