Another year over, and a new one just begun

Exactly 12 months ago, as I reflected on the events of 2006, I predicted that 2007 would possibly be a year during which I'd "take some major risks" and relocate away from Iowa City. This was still several months before I knew about the job opening at World Vision — or, for that matter, before I had any job leads at all. It marks one of the few times I can now claim to have accurately predicted my own future. Reading it now creeps me out a bit, but in a good way.

Speaking of which, it'd be nice to have the luxury of predicting how 2008 will turn out. The past year is a bit of a blur to me. In less than a month, I packed everything I could into my four-door sedan, including a cat, bid farewell to everyone and everything near and dear to me, and drove 2,000 miles to the Pacific Northwest. The journey — and where it took me — was simply meant to be. I found a nice place to live online before I even left; and when I did, everything went flawlessly in an endeavor that could have gone wrong in so many ways. It was as though the path was laid out for me long before I even knew of it.

This is certainly not to say I have it all figured out now; I do not. My now 9-month-old job has been terrific, but the challenge of living far apart from family and friends has gotten no easier. This must change. I cannot sustain a lifestyle void of community and companionship. If anyone knows of a single woman in her mid-20s living in western Washington who would like to go on a date, please let me know. I'm serious. I really hope my time in the Northwest works out — I just got done saying I think it was meant to be — but I can't live the life of a hermit.

I wish everyone the best for 2008, and I thank all who have read this blog. I also thank everyone who has made 2007 the memorable year for me that it has been. As the years pass, I have friends increasingly dispersed around the country and world; but wherever we end up, we'll keep in touch. This blog isn't going anywhere, and my e-mail address hasn't changed. Happy new year to all.

I'm back (in black)

I hope everyone had an enjoyable holiday — those who traveled and those who stayed home. Mine was very nice and remarkably hassle-free. Last Saturday, I encountered a mere two-hour delay flying out of SeaTac, which was child's play compared to the several hundred flights inbound to O'Hare that were cancelled at the hands of dense fog in the Chicago area. And on the return trip, I left just hours before the Windy City was hit with six inches of snow. Again, several hundred flights were cancelled. Mine, thankfully, was not one of them.

The visit itself was great. It afforded me time to see the family and some good old friends from years past who likewise found themselves in Chicago this holiday season. I even had the chance to visit what is perhaps my favorite brewpub anywhere — Emmett's Tavern in West Dundee, Ill. Its food is of greater quality than standard pub fare, and it has the best red ale I've ever tasted — a smooth brew with a rich caramel flavor and just the right amount of hops. Anyone who ever visits me in Illinois should remind me of this beer, and I'll make sure you sample it.

As expected, the return trip to Seattle was emotionally taxing. I even got a bit choked up at the airport on Thursday night and wasn't able to say much to my family when I left the car. Thankfully, my parents' generous Christmas gift to me included airline tickets for sometime in January or February (dates yet to be determined). This will likely extend my tradition of visiting the Midwest into a fourth consecutive month. Under any other circumstances, I'd worry about the environmental impact. But the plane is flying whether or not I'm on it — so I guess I might as well be.

Speaking of planes, I hope others who flew on one this Christmas found it as tolerable as I did, and I look forward to catching up with those whom I didn't get to see. In the waning hours of 2007, I'm thinking about the new year ahead and reflecting on the one that's almost over. More to come on this in my next post.

Merry Christmas

For the third time in as many months, I'll be flying back to Chicago on Saturday morning for the Christmas holiday. It will be my last opportunity to visit the Midwest for the foreseeable future — doing so requires using a considerable number of vacation days from work, and plane tickets are costly (I'd be just under $900 richer right now in the absence of these expenditures).

It will be very difficult to return after this visit; I've already anticipated that. But I'm also trying to acknowledge the fact that I was brought to the Pacific Northwest for this season of my life. I don't know how long this season will last, or how it will evolve, or where it will ultimately lead. For the time being, though, I've got a roof over my head, a car to drive, food to eat, clothes to wear, and a great job with great colleagues. Oh yes, and beer to drink. All of this is plenty to be thankful for this holiday season. The rest will fall into place in due time. (Ask me one month from now how much I believe what I just wrote.)

I hope this post finds well all who read it. Safe travels for everyone else hitting the road (or air) in the next several days. Merry Christmas, and I shall return in my typically obnoxious fashion following the holiday.

What we'll face (part 2 of 2)

At the conclusion of my last post, I commented on the tragedy of the United States' inaction on the global warming crisis. Yet just as tragic is the utter lack of public perception on another crisis that is equally devastating: the AIDS pandemic. If history judges my generation on the basis of its response to climate change, we will likewise be judged by what we do — or do not do — to address the crisis that destroys more lives in a single day than the number of U.S. troops who have been lost throughout the entire duration of the Iraq war.

Despite my consistently unbridled criticism against George W. Bush, I have discovered one distinctly redeemable attribute of his otherwise dismal presidency: his noble concern for and commitment toward addressing AIDS, even as America's mainstream media have ignored the crisis almost entirely. In fact, those of us who routinely watch a nightly news program or read Web-based news publications would have no way of knowing that the AIDS pandemic robs 6,000 children of a parent each day, creating a generation of orphans; or that it has killed more than 25 million people worldwide since it was recognized a quarter-century ago. AIDS doesn't just affect those whom it has killed. It affects surviving children, wives, and husbands, and the young and old alike. When combined with the effects of climate change, it leaves communities in Africa — and increasingly Asia — economically and socially destitute, with little hope for recovery in the absence of external intervention. It's easily the greatest humanitarian disaster of our time and the most serious social justice issue that I know.

Unfortunately, it's a crisis that also has been largely overlooked by faith communities, who are too busy talking about why gay people shouldn't get married to notice. Just as tellingly, it's almost completely absent from public discourse on the eve of a presidential campaign. Two weeks ago, on World AIDS Day, I wrote a blog post about what beers I sampled that weekend instead of discussing the pandemic that creates an unrelenting cycle of poverty and despair in many parts of the globe. In terms of my priorities, I'm evidently as guilty as anyone else. Regardless, AIDS is a crisis very similar to global warming in its consequences and magnitude — and possibly even worse. Please, let's not forget that.

What we'll face (part 1 of 2)

There are two urgent global crises developing as I write this, I believe, that my generation will be forced to address for its own survival and for the future survival of humanity. One is very obvious; the other is not. I'll start with the former. The second I'll save for a follow-up post tomorrow. Both merit equal attention.

Global warming caused by human activity is not a problem whose consequences will come to fruition in 20 years. It's a problem whose consequences have already been seen and whose consequences will grow increasingly catastrophic as we continue to opt against tangible action. The poor around the world are the ones who will suffer most. We've already seen it in our own backyard. In New Orleans, the neighborhoods ravaged most by Hurricane Katrina were not the ones containing multimillion-dollar mansions; they were the ones where low-income families were housed who could neither protect their property nor evacuate before it was too late.

The same will be true over and over again — not just in coastal cities, but in rural areas (particularly in Asia and Africa) where low-income populations who depend on the land for survival will face livelihood destruction as disastrous floods and droughts render extinct their primary means of income. And to the extent that global warming fuels outbreaks of disease — which it does — the poor again suffer first, most, and on an increasing scale. They're the ones who can't afford preventive measures or health care interventions in the face of such outbreaks.

Sadly, the biggest culprit behind climate change — the United States — has refused to take the crisis seriously. We're largely sheltered from scenes of the poor who are already bearing the brunt of our inaction. That's truly a tragedy, because as the wealthiest and most powerful nation on the planet, we have the greatest capability to reverse this trend. Let's hope that America's eyes are opened sooner rather than later — because for as hard as low-income populations will be hit by global warming, no one will be left unaffected by it.

They heart Huckabee

With the Iowa Caucuses now less than three weeks away, the contest for the 2008 presidential candidates has suddenly gotten much more interesting. There was a time when the future nominees — Sen. Hillary Clinton and former New York Mayor Rudy Guiliani — already seemed a foregone conclusion. Quite recently, though, there's been a shake-up within both parties, and now the identity of the two candidates who will face off next year is anything but certain.

On the Democratic side, Sen. Barack Obama has made significant inroads against the once-commanding lead of Clinton in places like Iowa and New Hampshire. In the Hawkeye State, some polls indicate him with as much as a 9-point lead over the former First Lady; others show them in a statistical dead heat. Obama also seems to be drawing the support of an increasing number of African American voters, who once swayed heavily toward Clinton. This could prove critical for his chances in primary states where he once wasn't viable. I'm inclined to suspect that Obama will pull off a victory in Iowa on Jan. 3, which will give him a burst of momentum in other critical states down the road. He may just have a shot at the nomination. Remember, a week is like a year in the world of politics.

Nowhere is that more evident than on the Republican side, where former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee has leaped from dark horse status to top contender. He bears striking parallels to a certain other ex-governor of the small Southern state, who, in 1992, went from being an unknown to being the 42nd president of the United States. Weighed against the other GOP candidates, Huckabee is easily the most likable. He conveys himself as genuine and more humble than any of the other front-runners, including Mitt Romney, whose facade makes him impossible to take seriously, and Rudy Guiliani, whose big-city persona doesn't sit well with some. Still, I don't expect Huckabee's campaign to have the same result as that of Bill Clinton in the early 1990s. Sadly, he's just another GOP candidate who has pegged his chances for victory on wedge issues that do nothing but divide and anger people. Following the disastrous tenure of the incumbent who used the same tactic to win, it likely won't work so well in 2008. The Republicans will need to adopt a new strategy, but it looks like they have no plan to do so.

The upcoming weeks and months should be very interesting. Stay tuned.

Brace yourself, I'm not gonna sugar-coat this...

I never cared much for Florida. I always thought it was an overrated state. But when I came across this article — where I learned that residents there who serve as executioners are eligible for $150 worth of compensation — my unmitigated disdain for the place suddenly solidified. Perhaps it's an overreaction on my part, but at the moment, my esteem for the Sunshine State roughly equals that of Texas. The feeling was reinforced when, in the course of crafting this post, I dug up another post I wrote almost exactly one year ago in response to news of a man whose 34-minute-long execution in Florida left him with chemical burns on his arms after he was dead.

I've never passed up an opportunity to express my utter contempt for capital punishment. It's a barbaric practice borne out of a brute lust for revenge — entirely distinct from "justice," which the procedure is often falsely advertised as promoting — that causes society to be no more righteous than the criminal whose acts are supposedly being punished. It neither makes our streets safer nor nullifies despicable crimes that have already been committed. It's another stain on America's reputation abroad, putting us in the same league as the rogue states to whom we purportedly wish to deliver lessons on democracy and human rights.

No, I've never lost a loved one to violent crime, and I can't begin to relate to such agony. But the death penalty can be credited with successfully bringing back not one single person whose life was prematurely ended through a vicious act. And frankly, the notion of legally sanctioning a practice that is founded not in civility but wrought emotion makes me grimace almost as much as the thought of intentionally taking another person's life. The article indicates that the days of executions in America may be numbered. We can all hope.

A day without rain (or snow)

A completely clear, totally cloudless day here in December is a relatively remarkable event. So when it happens, I tend to go out and take pictures compulsively — even if they're views I've captured before. Click on the image for a larger size, or here if you want to see the rest of the album.

Let's remember this time

In light of recent gun violence across the United States — namely, last week's suicide attack at a shopping mall in Omaha, Neb., and the killings this past weekend at two separate religious institutions in Colorado — I'm once again reluctantly bringing up a subject that I was more than happy to put to rest for a long time. But 2007 has been an especially bad year for firearms-related carnage across this country; and ignoring, downplaying, or forgetting about the problem are all major reasons why it keeps happening.

Last February, I wrote a fairly extensive post documenting my position on gun control (almost exactly two months before the massacre took place at Virginia Tech). The post received more feedback than any other I've published to this blog, including comments from across America and even several from international locations like China and Australia. They ranged from agreement on one end to explicit disdain for my view on the other. I still periodically receive comments on this now 10-month-old post, the most recent one recorded on Nov. 16.

I won't use this space to recap what I wrote; it's still available to read for anyone who didn't see it at the time. For now, it suffices to say that my position hasn't changed. I accept the fact that most Americans would disagree and consider it extreme. My opinion is no more or less valid than dissenting ones, and as indicated above, this blog is dedicated to free speech. If you'd like to assert that my perspective renders me "dangerous," you're free to do so. That's the beauty of it.

But my broader argument concerns finding a solution to this problem. One point I made in my Feb. 17 post was that the mainstream media typically cover shooting rampages exhaustively in the first week after they happen, but sometime later on, interest wanes, and we stop hearing about it — that is, until the next one happens. Sadly, I think we can all expect that to be the case with Nebraska and Colorado. If we want gun violence to decline across America, we ought to remember these tragedies, stop bickering, and do something about them.

Des Moines gets props from an unlikely source

I have no personal connection to the town, but I do have several close friends from Des Moines, Iowa, which is why this New York Times commentary really piqued my interest. If you're a Des Moineser (Des Moinesite? Des Moinesan?) or even a native Iowan, the article should give you a sense of pride, because it portrays your capital city in a very positive light.

A Heartland city west of the Mississippi River receiving acclaim from a newspaper like the Times? That's pretty remarkable. And a Times reporter who says he's "looking forward" to spending New Year's Eve in Des Moines? Wow. There was a time when I wasn't sure whether that newspaper had yet recognized Iowa's statehood. But when the author of this piece compares an Italian restaurant in Des Moines to ones he's visited in Washington, D.C., the former wins his favor easily.

There's still a cultural divide in America that pits two ridiculous stereotypes against each other — the cultured intellectuals of either coast versus the drab farmers who inhabit drab communities in drab fly-over country. It isn't always so extreme, but it does exist, and sadly, I've talked to many people who included places like Iowa City in that assessment. That's why I'm always pleased to see commentaries like this one that go against the grain and demonstrate that the Midwest does, in fact, have something unique to offer beyond Chicago or Minneapolis.

I don't claim to know all that much about Des Moines, but it seems to have earned itself some really good press. Way to go.

Braving the elements for a good brew

I had every intention of writing a thought-provoking post this weekend about the global AIDS crisis in commemoration of World AIDS Day, which was Saturday. But time simply got away from me — I worked for part of the weekend, and Sunday was spent on a day trip to Portland, where I met up with my friends Chris and DeeAnn for a nice outdoor holiday ale festival. At 10 p.m. on a Sunday night, my brain is starting to shut down a bit. My AIDS post will have to be postponed — but it is forthcoming.

So, yes, the festival. It was outside under a series of heated tents, which was good, because the weather was simply terrible. I left home around 7 a.m. and headed down toward Portland under a steady rain and heavy skies. I was OK with that; I had driven in the rain before. It was par for the course in November in the Northwest. But by the time I was passing through Olympia, Wash., that rain had materialized into wet snow and was coating the road with a thick slush that afforded me little control over my very light car. So when I started hydroplaning and sliding across the freeway while switching lanes to avoid a semi that had just blinded me for about 10 seconds, I thought perhaps I had made an error in judgement by leaving home that morning. I knew the mountain passes and higher elevations were receiving up to two feet of snow — but I wasn't going there. And surely I wasn't at an elevation where snow should have been an issue, given the temperature. I did check the weather forecast. Yes, I did.

Needless to say, when I arrived in one piece, I was relieved. And it was well worth the harrowing drive. We enjoyed some fabulous — and strong — winter ales that included several barleywines, a Russian Imperial Stout, some bourbon-barrel-aged ales, several scotch ales, and the aptly named Hallucinator. It was the perfect way to spend a blustery, cold, rainy day — out of the elements, in the company of friends, away from freak snow squalls and perilous highways. Of course, I left plenty of time after the festival to come back to my senses before commencing the trek back home. That, and I made sure to check the road conditions between Portland and Seattle.

All things considered, it was a fine weekend. Even my faithful little Hyundai Elantra would have to agree; she's safely parked in her carport now, and not one dent or scratch worse for the wear.