"Spire Letter "
It's September. It has been ten years since Jimbo first stepped foot onto the NAU campus as a young college freshman, barely 18, with a mop of thick, brown hair, and totally, hopelessly, disarmingly naive. Despite my most valiant efforts, this Tuesday, the-not-so-mighty-Jimbo will be a year older. Ten years later, Jimbo is a cynical, shallow, self-obsessed sales-goob with a Houdini-like hairline and an imaginary sex life.
But I still got great abs. Want me to flex?
My sister likes to remind me that I'm pushing thirty. Maybe, but I think thirty is pushing back. I only have a few more years before baldness, prostate trouble, Geritol, and arthritic fingers. Viagra too, but I haven't had much need for that. As it is, I figure I better enjoy what's left of my rapidly vanishing youth. Live some la vida loca while I can. In that pursuit, I've also had some mildly memorable adventures in recent weeks.
N'awlins:
In August I made yet another trip to the never exciting American Chemical Society Fall Convention in New Orleans. Have you ever seen 10,000 hopelessly sheltered PhD's converge onto Bourbon Street? Not a pretty sight. Lot's of walking shorts with brown socks and loafers, hair from the Einstien School of Fashion, and those ever-present name tags. Nerds on parade.
On my last night there, I spent the night bar hopping in the French Quarter with Pam, the terribly attractive marketing associate from the Chemical Computing Group and their two stunning French Canadian "booth babes". But even in the Big Easy, I go home alone. Ah, ce la vie.
Rocks 'n' Stuff:
Despite my mother's dire predictions, I haven't fallen off any (big) rocks yet. Several weeks ago I drove out along the Angeles Crest Highway to climb at Williamson Rock. It's a ninety-minute trip from Newport. However, a paramedic stopped us just five miles from the rock. An hour earlier, a van of full of acid-popping teenagers drove off a 1200' cliff. You know, I didn't feel so bad about that ninety-minute inconvenience. Nothing puts things into their proper perspective faster than tragedy.
Lesson for kids: Don't do drugs, stay up all night at a rave, and careen along a winding mountain road.
On Labor Day weekend I met my friend Natalie up in Yosemite to climb the famous lost arrow spire. From the rim of the valley between Yosemite Point and upper Yosemite Falls (nearly 3000' above the valley floor), you rappel 275' to a notch between the wall and the spire. From there you climb up the dramatic and very, VERY exposed spire. The first move requires you to step sideways off the notch around the side of the spire and onto an unnerving and unstable flake of granite. A quick glance down reveals you are now 2000' above the ground.
Once you reach the exhilaratingly small tip, you return to the rim by means of a strenuous and initially terrifying tyrolean traverse along a rope stretched between the spire and the rim. Stepping off that spire into the abyss...well, just be sure you know how to rig that gear. If you make a mistake, there's no second chance.
I actually had to rescue a fellow climber off the tyrolean. A party behind us got stuck on the spire in the dark and a climber had trouble getting across. After 15 minutes or so with no forward progress, he asked us for some help. We grabbed some ascenders, a pulley and a few locking carabiners. I tied the rope to a tree, clipped a biner to it, and sent it rope down to the climber on the tyrolean. He clipped it into his harness, and we set up a z-pulley and hauled him to the rim.
Natalie said nothing completes a hard day of climbing like a successful rescue. I personally prefer a full body massage by two French Canadian booth babes, but a rescue will do in a pinch.
Caught in the Fray - San Francisco:
My roommate and I just returned from a road trip to San Francisco for Fray Day. I have become an internet whore since discovering the Fray earlier this summer. Needless to say, it was a thrill to meet the people responsible for creating it. These kids just ooze talent. I envy that. Check it out: www.fray.com.
We drove home via PCH along the California coast. Sure it took all day, and a tank of premium sets you back $27 in Big Sur, but it is arguably one of the most beautiful road trips in the country. I highly recommend it. And while I'm at it, the food at Ripplewood Cafe and Lodge in Big Sur is tremendous!
Silicon Produce:
My new Apple Powerbook arrives tomorrow! It's a birthday present to myself - and an expensive one at that. However, I did buy it through a friend at Apple at $500 below retail. This little investment will allow me to finally work on those projects I have been putting off. Some essays I want to get published on-line, a business plan for a software company I have stuck in my noggin, a SoCal climbing site called belayon.com, and, of course, a Mighty Jimbo vanity site. I'll let you know when it's up and running.
That's about all. I'm doing a little birthday gig in Newport this Friday. If you are on this list, it's only because I love you like life and would be thrilled if you could live a little la vida loca of you own to celebrate with me here in SoCal. The Blue Beet, Newport Beach, Friday, the 24th, 8:30 PM. Call in sick, get in your car, and make the drive. It's the only day of the year I allow myself to indulge in the firewater - and that alone could be worth the trip.
Even if you can't make the trip, drop me a line and tell me what trips you have been making. Physical, spiritual, emotional, pharmacological...where have you been?
