Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Lessons from the "Man Cave"

Mark Twain was known for being a traveler. He went to Europe, Hawaii and all across the continental United States gradually gaining credibility and fame as a writer. He even spent a few stretches in San Francisco writing for the San Francisco Daily Morning Call. But he wrote some of his most famous works, including Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from his home in Hartford, CT, which I was lucky enough to visit awhile back.

Twain's Billiard Room where he did most his writing
Twain retreated from the noise of a busy household to this 19th century man cave on the 3rd floor where he could smoke cigars, shoot pool and play cards while informally entertaining friends. But more importantly, he came here to write in peace and quiet. The pool table would become a work area where he’d spread out his manuscripts to organize his thoughts. To the left of the pool table but not quite visible in this photo is a shelf of cubby holes where he would file away ideas and works-in-progress. Beneath the light of the green lamp in the right corner, he sat at his desk and penned one of the greatest and most controversial novels in American literature.

But what I found most striking about this room was that Twain’s writing desk was in the right hand corner facing the window…just like mine. Did he ever neglect Huck Finn to focus on a bird perched outside the window?


My writing desk is also in a room on the 3rd floor of a busy house even if other tenants occupy the majority of the building.  Sometimes I use my bed to spread out my notebooks that can’t fit on my small computer desk. And once in awhile I hear the neighbors' kids down stairs running around laughing or crying and I wonder if Twain heard his own kids running about the house as he wrote some of his most famous works upstairs.

While I find these to be amusing similarities we also differ in several ways, aside from the obvious difference in skill and fame. For starters, I write under my own name, while Samuel Clemens of course was Mark Twain only on paper. His stories are based on his own life experiences while mine are based on direct observations of things I see out the window. Twain’s primary tools of the trade were a paper and pen, mine are a computer and a camera. He had cubby holes to store works-in-progress and ideas while mine are stored in Dropbox file folders on the Internet.

Twain had to use his imagination and have a good memory to recall events from his past while crafting his stories. My stories rely on being ever vigilant to catch any noteworthy activity going on outside. It can be equally challenging because a good window watcher needs more than just a computer and some time to watch. Here are a few tips for the would-be window watcher.

First, remove the screen from the window. It only gets it the way. Second, keep your viewing tools within arm’s reach. If you look closely at the photo above you’ll notice my glasses, camera and binoculars on my desk. It takes some experience to know which tool to grab at a moment’s notice. Third, you need to hone your cat-like reflexes, instantly reacting to anything that catches your attention, grabbing the right tool and training it on the subject before the bird, person or vehicle passes by and your story is lost.

Here are some examples of what can happen when you don’t follow these guidelines.


Slow Reaction Time
A few weeks ago I noticed a fire truck pass by on Lincoln Blvd right where the street light is on the left side of the photo. Then another fire truck rolled by, and another and another. I realized too late that something big was going on. I tore up my room looking for my camera until I finally found it, dove back towards the window and clicked off this photo just as the last truck passed out of view. I later confirmed that it was the funeral procession for fallen San Francisco firefighters Lt. Vincent Perez and Anthony Valerio. A huge contingent of firefighters from all across the country came to honor the brave men who died in the line of duty.


Wrong Tool
This, I believe, appears to be a military cargo plane but I made the mistake of going for the camera instead of the binoculars. The camera takes too long to zoom in all the way and focus before taking the photo. A plane is simply moving too fast for the slowest tool in my belt. The appropriate response should have been the binoculars where maybe I could have read some identifying numbers on the plane that could later be googled for more info. Now we might never know the who, what, when, where and why of that military cargo plane.

Unprepared
And finally, you may have noticed no accompanying photo or video to the entry, “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.” That is what happens when your tools are not within arm’s reach.

So Rear Window’s first ever Mark Twain “week” comes to a close with a few lessons learned from ol’ Sam Clemens. Whether it’s a pen and paper or high tech gadgets, you need to apply the appropriate tools of the trade to get the job done. If you want to be a writer, you need to find a quiet place and some time to write. And most of all, you need look no further than your own everyday life and experiences for inspiration.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco

Continuing our first ever Mark Twain week, I bring to you Twain’s most famous (alleged) quote about our fair city by the bay. “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.” Well, today is the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, the first day of summer, and this time (sorry Mark) it should feel like it with sunny skies and temps in the 80s. 

This could hardly be considered winter at all! That’s good news for many San Franciscans because we just came out of the coldest winter we’ve ever spent – a winter in San Francisco. We saw record breaking rainfall in The City and corresponding snow in the Sierras. In Yosemite, Tioga Road only opened this past weekend and the Half Dome cables are finally going up tomorrow. Rumor has it Squaw Valley is going to be open for the 4th of July weekend.  It was much talked about but the first snow since 1976 did not fall on San Francisco this year. However, one day in February shortly after moving to Baker Beach I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked out the window and did in fact see snow capped mountains. 


About 10 inches fell on Mt. Tam which stands about 2,500 feet above the bay. If I had it to do again I’d have called in sick and gone exploring. So today my friends, I pledge to you that this summer I will not sit idly by and let such unique opportunities slip past me as I did this winter. It’s the return of the Summer of Eric! I'll catch you later because I'm off to bike in the Marin Headlands.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."

A few days ago I referenced Mark Twain's famous character Huck Finn while discussing my yearning for running free through the hills visible from my bedroom window. Coincidentally, the quote referenced above is also attributed to Twain and I've got another Twain quote in the pipeline for the summer solstice. You may be able to guess that one. So I proclaim this Rear Window's first ever theme week. Welcome to Mark Twain week! So here is a little episode I witnessed today that illustrates Twain's quote, "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."

This morning while I was stretching in the living room I saw a raven standing in the middle of the road below. It seemed a little unusual because I don’t usually see them there and he wasn’t really moving about. Just then, a barn swallow swooped down and back up and circled over him. Then this little barn swallow went into a straight dive bomb crashing onto the back of the raven like a kamikaze pilot. He fell to the road with a THUMP! I could hear it from two floors up but he apparently recovered and flew off. The raven, seeing this more or less as a minor annoyance also got up and flew away. 

Now I’m not an ornithologist or a biologist or even a smart person so it took me a second to realize why this swallow was attacking such a larger bird. There is a swallow nest in the carport across the street that this little guy was protecting. I don’t know if it was a male or female but today being Father’s Day I’d like to think it was the father protecting his home and family. So don’t forget to wish your dad a happy Father’s Day because he too probably sacrificed himself to protect you from the figurative raven in your life.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Fool me once shame on you…

When I work in my bedroom I look out and the window to this view each day and sometimes daydream about running and biking through those hills in the distance. I feel a little like Huck Finn imprisoned in church on a Sunday, yearning to kick off his shoes, throw off his coat and run through the fields. 

Marin Headlands in the distance

Once in a great while I head over the Golden Gate Bridge and go for a run out in those hills but I haven’t biked on those trails in quite awhile especially because my mountain bike, “Black Beauty” was stolen a few months ago.

Black Beauty - A Noble Steed
But all that changed today when the UPS man arrived at the door with “Black Beauty II”.

Black Beauty II - Dawes Lightning Cross
This is a cyclocross bike. A cheap one. You’ll notice it’s not cluttered with any name brands or corporate logos. I got it from BikesDirect.com, a factory direct online retailer because no store would stock the Dawes Lightning Cross. It’s more or less a road bike with mountain bike tires. Cyclocross races are sort of a combination of road cycling, mountain biking and running. Type “cyclocross” into YouTube and you’ll get all sorts of interesting, hilarious and painful blooper reels.

I opened the box and could barely contain my enthusiasm as I assembled my new bike. The fact that the instruction manual that came with it was for a completely different bike should have been my first clue that this was all going together a little too easily. The second clue should have been that there were some extra spacers and screws left over once the bike was assembled. Nevertheless, my spirit was soaring and I charged out the door channeling Ol’ Huck.

The first four minutes were outstanding! Then I heard the “click, clack” sound of a broken spoke. I was forced to walk the bike back home to take to the bike shop for repairs. It was reminiscent of the (mis)adventure Trent and I had biking from Zambia into Malawi in 2006. Those bikes were also factory direct. We were fooled into thinking they were of a high quality because we bought them right inside the factory. In the first 10 minutes my chain broke and we spent the next 2 days picking up bike parts that had rattled off along the way.

Trent and a helpful friend make the first attempt to assemble the bike.

Bike Shop - Mchinji, Malawi
If it were not for this kid and a dozen like him who made numerous repairs for us along the way we might still be walking along that highway. My savior today was the Sports Basement and almost two hours after I started I set out again for my inaugural ride. After surviving the first downhill without any parts falling off I made it over the bridge, through the tunnel and when I hit the trail on the other side I finally had my Huck Finn moment. I sped up the trail yippin’ and hollerin’ as I passed by wildflowers blooming on the side of the trail, turkey vultures soaring overhead, a couple of wild turkeys walking across the trail and even the Oracle team boats practicing for America’s Cup beneath the Golden Gate Bridge on the way back. All in all a pretty good ride! 

Today I learned a valuable lesson: maybe there is a reason these bikes are not available in stores. In Zambia, I was fooled once by the promise of adventure offered by a cheap ride and today, well, the jury is still out as to whether I was fooled again by BikesDirect.com…we’ll have to see how many repairs are needed over the next few days and weeks!