Raising my voice . . .

I consider myself something of a dilletante in my approach to this blog in that I use the medium mainly for my own amusement. I welcome readers who find their way to it and enjoy the conversations I have with them but I also enjoy the limited nature of those conversations. I'm aware there are many ways of maximizing my audience but, for now, this is my play-space and not my profession.

I make my money elsewhere, primarily through editing and writing, and being paid to produce changes the nature of what I write. Here, I have more freedom to play with ideas, style and words.

One problem with that is when I feel there is something I really want to make a stink about, it's the writerly equivalent of one hand clapping. (Perhaps a little more - some of the people who do follow me are important in many different ways.) The ears I want to yell into are unlikely to be turned my way.

The solution - write a guest blog for someone who DOES have a wide audience, of which most are the people I want to let know how I feel.

I thank the erudite and stylish Carl Prine, author of such esteemed tracts as "The Porta-Potty Rock" and the wearer of a padded velvet codpiece in Doctrine Man cartoons, for loaning me the eyes of his readers to express my disgust at the birthday favor the U.S. Army gave an officer for conduct unbecoming anyone.

Be sure to read Carl's better-worded and more knowledgeable piece also.

It's a Long, Long Road

I know I keep saying this, but this country is big!

My home islands of Aotearoa/New Zealand have about the same area as Texas. I wanted to visit Texas and eat a wild pig and drink Tequila, but I don't think I'm going to make it. (I'll post the bowl, Matt.)

I am currently in Sterling Heights, MI, having ridden from DC to Detroit on Wednesday in one day. Mapquest gave the journey as just under 10 hours, I made it in about 12 but definitely had at least two hours of stops along the way.

I had initially planned to stop in Pittsburgh overnight but it was only noon when I passed there and I only had another five hours riding so decided to continue. I'm glad I did, but was even more glad to step away from the bike at the end of that day.

I now detest the Ohio Turnpike (I-80 W), particularly in big winds. I was being buffeted from all directions, and the numerous big rigs did not help with the wind currents. At least this time, I was passing the trucks, not the trucks passing me as happened in thunderstorms I rode through going from Elon, NC, to Norfolk, VA, the previous week.

The bike performed admirably but reminded me, about five hours into the ride, that we'd intended to replace the screws that held the left fender to the tank. It wanted off while fighting the Ohio winds doing 80+ mph. I had very limited choices but jury-rigged a solution that lasted til Detroit. I've since spent some hours and borrowed friends' skills to ensure that won't happen again, and will never head out again without at least cable ties and duct tape. The GPS has also found a real mount - velcroing it to the tank worked, but having to look down that low while doing 80+ and being bracketed on all sides by trucks wasn't the safest thing I've ever done.

Then again, it wasn't the riskiest, either.

I still have almost two months and a lot of miles to cover. I'm probably going to stay based here (in an amazing historic house with ultra amazing people) for a week or more and visit an artist/writer/brilliant person friend in Lansing, MI, from here. I'd also like to cross the bridge to Canuckistan while I'm so close but will speak to US and CA immigration before I do so to make sure the bike and I can get back. It would be a little embarrassing to have to smuggle it back. But would make for a great story.

After here, North Dakota, via (tentatively) Chicago and Minnesota. From ND, down to Kansas/Missouri to meet my favorite super-hero's alter-ego and better half  - he's a sick, sick cartoon character, but very wise. I'll be spending Sunday worship with the Westboro Baptist Church while there, and balancing that by talking to some Patriot Riders (Google both terms if that makes no sense to you).

After that, Arkansas and then time to make my way back to Norfolk to return the bike, teach an amazing lady to ride and visit Monticello with her and her equally amazing sister. It will then be time to find a  job and pay off this adventure, while saving for the next. It's time to send out the Resume, I guess, but not today.

Today, I'm riding in a funeral escort requested by the family of a Great Lakes military member who was killed during his 9th deployment to Iraq/Afghanistan. These non-wars have been going that long. (This same week, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff has talked openly about pay and benefit cuts to the military, including medical.)

Stay safe out there.

Coming to America, Part 2

I love America. Or perhaps it's the idea of America that I love. I still believe in the America that welcomes strangers with open arms and where anyone can make it with sheer grit and determination. I'm not sure whether the America I believe in and love still exists, but I'm very sure that's not the America much of the outside world sees.

I'm also aware that much of my contact with America and Americans is viewed from a military perspective, and that is not the America that many Americans know. The America of military bases is almost a return to an earlier era, where neighbors gather together for grills and games and teenagers know that any misbehavior will get back to their parents. Again, it's only one side of America, but one I know well and, for the most part, peopled by caring, well-meaning individuals. But how typical is that of the country as a whole?

I've joked with American friends that I often get mistaken for a "loud American" and often that assumption comes with animosity toward "us" all. One friend asked why Americans are so disliked and I think it's because all that much of the world knows about the country is its politics and big oil/big tobacco/big business concerns. Which many of the Americans I know are just as concerned about as those of us outside of the country.

There's also a shocking ignorance on the part of many Americans about the world outside their personal borders, whether that be their ranch, their town, their state or the continental USA. I've noticed that same mindset most places I've traveled in the world, however. What makes it more shocking is that America keeps playing world sheriff, interfering in other countries' politics with little forethought or end game in sight. Interestingly, some of the freer thinkers I have met have been part of the military forces - putting your life on the line for somebody else's decisions tends to clarify a person's priorities and opinions.

All of which is probably a very long way of saying I'm not sure what the "real" America is, or if such a thing even exists. But I'm very interested to know and aim to spend three months trying to find out. The plan is to travel the country having conversations with real Americans about their hopes and dreams, their aspirations and disappointments. To ask each one what America means to them. Obviously there will be a number of military personnel I speak with, but there will also be ranchers, Hell's Angel bikers, storekeepers and students. I'll be flying into Norfolk, VA, on May Day and will base myself with my US whanau there, working out a schedule to ride the highways and byways of the country and trying to take the pulse of America, as felt by those who live there.

I'll blog about the journey here as I travel, but also record the conversations to possibly publish in longer form at a later stage. People I speak to are welcome to anonymity if they desire.

So, coming soon to a town near you, "Korero Amerika" ("American Conversation"). If you want to take part, drop me a line, either here or on my Facebook page.

Let's talk . . .