Filed under: Architecture, Art, Italy, Travel | Tags: art, blogging, Campo de' Fiori, Capitoline Hill, Hercules, Italy, jim downey, Marcellus, Piazza Navona, Portunus, Rome, travel
We walked back to the hotel. Amy left us to see to some other arrangements. We made tentative plans to meet for dinner later.
Yeah, a lot later. In Rome, you don’t eat dinner until 9 or 10 PM. Seriously. Restaurants don’t even open until about 8:30, and most of them won’t make reservations before 9. In this it reminded me a lot of Buenos Aires. In other ways, too. More on that in a future travelog.
Anyway, we went back to the hotel, dropped off bags. Steve needed to pop out to make dinner reservations for the group at one of the places we had checked out that afternoon. I decided to walk through a short private path from our hotel over to the Campo de’ Fiori – a nice little square about a block away which has a daily market of mostly food items. Here it is:
Market day in the Campo.
Market day in the Campo.
I sat at one of the outdoor tables of one of the half dozen little restaurants around the square, ordered a beer. I just wanted to sit and rest my feet a while, watch the last of the merchants clear up their stuff from the day’s market, try and take everything in. I had only been in the country about 8 hours, but I felt surprisingly comfortable there. “Surprisingly” because with just a couple weeks notice before going I had no time to learn more than a few survival phrases of Italian and very little background information beyond what I already knew.
But even so, I felt much more at home than I expected. Italy is different than any place I’ve been previously, but it is still a fundamentally European culture, one which resonates with other places. Even the language is fairly easy to understand, at least in the written form. Oh, I couldn’t read the newspaper, let alone a book, in Italian, but scanning signs and menus wasn’t difficult. And at least in Rome almost everyone had some English language. It was easy to get along.
Happily, Steve was able to make the reservations quickly, and joined me on the Campo before I finished my first beer. We ordered another round and enjoyed the late afternoon as it turned into early evening.
* * * * * * *
After showers and relaxing in the room, we met Amy to head out to dinner. This would be the pattern for most of the rest of the trip: shower in the morning when you got up. If you were really stomping around in the morning, grab another quick shower before the afternoon adventures. Then back to relax a bit before dinner, getting another shower before heading out.
Why so much? Well, Rome was sweltering. It was mid-July. Temps in the low-mid 90s, humidity somewhere around 80%, and not much in the way of air exchange in the city. All those buildings with narrow streets, dark grey cobblestones, throngs of people and vehicles built and held the heat of the day. It wasn’t until well into the evening before things even started cooling off. I think this is part of the reason why the Italians eat so late – before then, it’s just too damned hot. And remember, AC is fairly uncommon.
Anyway. We hiked over to the river (the Tiber), I think to the SW of our hotel, though I hadn’t gotten my bearings in Rome yet. Crossed over, and in a few more blocks to a little place Steve knew.
Interesting place. We were able to get a corner table inside. It had an almost ‘country kitsch’ decor – light blue & white wallpaper, red checked tablecloths – and they specialized in a particular pasta dish which we all ordered: a kind of ‘mac & cheese’ made using spaghetti noodles and incredible fresh Parmesan cheese. It’s made such that there’s a bowl of crispy Parmesan which is free standing, and the cheese and noodles are contained within it. Paired with a nice wine – heaven.
* * * * * * *
The next morning Steve and Amy were off to meet the class for the first time, using a nearby classroom facility which was part of the University of Washington campus in Rome. I got up, had breakfast, got started with my day.
Breakfast. Not a big deal in Italy, from what I saw both in Rome and then later. The hotel had the same items out every day: various cold cereals, yogurt, a couple types of breakfast pastry, a small selection of cold cheeses and meats. There was also a couple types of juice, usually tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs. Coffee made to order. Perfectly fine, but not nearly as big a deal as all the other meals.
I decided to strike out and explore the nearby area around the hotel. It was daylight, I had a small map from the hotel, and figured that setting out almost randomly would be fun. Just a couple blocks north I found this:
Looking south in the Piazza Navona.
The Piazza Navona one of the larger public spaces in the old part of the city, built (Steve later told me) on the site of a Roman stadium. In the cool morning it was mostly empty, just a few artists starting to set up their informal booths and a couple groups of Japanese tourists.
Piazza Navona.
After the tight spaces of the streets of Rome, I enjoyed just walking around the piazza, looking at the various buildings which lined it, enjoying the massive central fountain and the two smaller ones on each end.
One curious little thing I hadn’t noticed in the Campo the day before: it was common for the artists/merchants to anchor their displays using long thick nails driven into the ground in the space between the cobblestones. A quick and effective anchor, which didn’t damage the surface at all.
* * * * * * *
From the Piazza Navona I continued north until I hit the river, then I walked along its banks for a while, just taking in the vistas of the city around me. Rome needs a bit of distance to appreciate fully, distance which you usually can’t get on the smaller streets of the city center.
After a couple of hours I made my way back to the hotel. Again the heat of the day had soaked into me, and me into my clothes. A shower and a fresh change of clothes was in order before I met the others for the afternoon activities.
* * * * * * *
We met outside the hotel. I had met a couple of the others in passing the afternoon before and that morning at breakfast (the students didn’t need to be over to the classroom quite as early as Steve and Amy did, since they had to set up tables and whatnot in advance of the first meeting). Everyone was surprisingly welcome and accepting of me – a politeness which I wondered whether would hold up in the course of two weeks travel.
It did.
The first thing we did was head over to the district of the former Ghetto for lunch and a bit of history on the place.
The Roman Ghetto.
Roman Ghetto.
All the subsequent meals we took as a group were semi-communal: at restaurants we’d order individually, but share freely back and forth so that people could enjoy a wider variety of dishes. When we ate at the villa down south, the meals were served ‘family style’. As a result, I couldn’t begin to remember all the different things I had a chance to try on the trip, and I didn’t make extensive notes. I did get a copy of the villa’s in-house cookbook, and I’ll share some recipes from it later.
After a quite enjoyable lunch we traipsed off to see Rome’s oldest forum: the Forum Boarium. We stopped along the way to enjoy views of Rome’s first bridges across the Tiber, as well as a bit of history of the Island. Here are images of the Temples of Hercules
Temple of Hercules.
and Portunus.
Temple of Portunus.
* * * * * * *
From there we went north, skirting along the base of the base of the Capitoline hill, pausing to look at excavations currently underway in the Forum Holitorium
then past the Theater of Marcellus:
Theater of Marcellus.
and then up to the Capitoline Hill. Climbing the long, sloping terrace/steps up to the top of the hill, we had a damned impressive view of the city to the west and north.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring the Capitoline Museums .
Plaza on Capitoline Hill.
The Capitoline Wolf.
* * * * * * *
We made our collective way back to the hotel, where everyone showered and relaxed a bit before going out to dinner.
At dinner, as at lunch, I made a point of sitting with a new group of people. It was important to me to get to know the other members of the tour, to try and connect with them. Fortunately, this was pretty easy. In spite of my not knowing anything about Latin or teaching, they were all well skilled in working with new people. And the shared adventure we were on was a common denominator for all.
It was well past 10:00 before we left the restaurant. I, for one, was damned glad I didn’t need to attend a workshop starting at 8:30 AM.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Blade Runner, Gardening, Italy, Travel | Tags: Blade Runner, blogging, Classics, gardening, Italy, jim downey, NPR, Rome, Steve Tuck, travel, TSA
That may seem to be an odd choice to kick off a series of travelogs about my recent trip to Italy. The focus of the trip, after all, was on Classical Antiquity – specifically, “The Italy of Caesar and Vergil.” So what does a fictional character from 2019 have to do with it?
Well, me, not to put too fine a point on it.
Context is everything. While I had always kinda-sorta wanted to see Italy, it wasn’t a high priority for me. Other trips always took precedent. I figured I’d get around to seeing Italy sometime, or if I didn’t, it wouldn’t be a big deal. After all, while I knew the general history of that part of Europe, and even more than the average amount about Rome (and the Romans), neither was of particular interest. It didn’t play a part in my fiction. It wasn’t pertinent to my life. So I thought.
I was wrong. Hopefully, these travelogs will convey how.
* * * * * * *
An old and dear friend is an expert on Classical Antiquity. His name’s Steve Tuck. Associate Professor of Classics. Published author. DVD star. He’s one of those guys that gets called up when NPR needs a sound bite/expert on something in his field.
And for years he’s told me about the various classes and tour groups he’s taken to Italy. They always sounded like fun, if somewhat outside my own scope.
Well, just a couple of weeks before he was supposed to take another group over this summer, he dropped me a note. There was an unexpected opening in his tour – was I interested in filling in?
Sure. What the hell. It’d be a chance for me to get a out of my routine. Push the boundaries of my comfort zone a bit. Spend time with a good friend who I don’t see often enough. And maybe even learn something.
The tour was actually designed as a workshop for High School Latin teachers, and would help them be prepared for changes to the A.P. criteria going into effect. Part of most days the group would be in class, going over the scholarly material. And the site visits would all be tied to said material. While the rest of the group was in class, I’d have time to explore on my own, do some writing (note-taking), play tourist. When we went to sites, I’d get the same expert guide instruction as everyone else.
So, it was 24 Latin teachers, me and two other non-teachers (one the spouse of a teacher, one the mother of one), my friend and his Co-Director for the trip, a woman who is herself a Latin teacher but who also has extensive knowledge of the area/material and conducted the classroom sessions. 29 of us. Good number. Prime number.
* * * * * * *
Getting to Rome was pretty much routine international travel. Which is to say mildly annoying and took too long. I can’t wait until the TSA allows the use of transporter technology. (You did know that we actually have transporter technology, right? Yeah. They’re just trying to figure out how they can still get to hassle us about the size of our water bottles before they let us use it.)
I arrived in Rome early on July 11th. Going through Passport Control and Customs amounted to little more than blithely showing my passport to the bored agent who glanced at it an waived me on. Seriously, I stepped past the checkpoint and looked around for the Customs station. There was none. Or rather, there was off to the side, but the guys there were too busy talking and literally didn’t even look up at me when I paused to consider if I needed to take my luggage to them. Hell, everyone else was just walking past me and into the main concourse, so I figured I should as well.
It was about 9:00 AM. It was hot & humid in the airport. The first two ATMs I passed weren’t working. People seemed to be less harried than you usually find. Certainly, the uniformed staff were. But whenever I stopped and asked a question, they were happy to help, and pointed me on my way.
This, I found, pretty much summed up Italy.
Except Naples. I’ll get to that later.
* * * * * * *
The express train from the airport to the main station in Rome proper took about a half hour. It cost $14 (actually, 11 Euros, but I’m just going to use $ equivalents since I have a $ key on my keyboard and it will avoid confusion). The seats were comfortable, half the train was empty, and again there was no Air Conditioning.
Air Conditioning isn’t a big thing in Italy. This was something of a theme for the whole trip.
The train station was big. Hectic. Every variety of human, and most of our various languages being spoken. But the signage out to the bus stands was pretty clear, so I made my way through the crowds and went outside.
No buses. Taxis. But no buses.
There were supposed to be buses. I went back inside, looked at the signage. Yup. There were supposed to be buses. There was construction beyond the taxis, but no buses.
The only train station employees were all in windows with long lines of people waiting to talk to them. I decided that I could solve this problem on my own.
I went out the side of the station. Still no buses. But there across the street I saw an ATM (called a bancomat in Italy) in the side of a building. I walked over to it. It wasn’t working. There was another one further down, which was.
I decided that I’d just keep going, do a circle around the train station. The construction in the front of the building was still there. But on the other side of it, well-hidden from the station entrance, I found buses. Yay!
* * * * * * *
My friend Steve responded to my text message letting him know I was in town. Said he’d meet me at the bus stop. He did.
It was a fairly short walk over to our hotel, right in the heart of downtown. Steve showed me our room – in the “annex.” Up about 47 flights of steps. All lovely marble, mind. But still.
But still, it was charming. About halfway up we came out on a little outdoor landing where more permanent residents had their little rooftop gardens.
hotel landing
Rooftop gardens are very big in Rome.
* * * * * * *
After dropping off my bag, getting a little cleaned up from having been traveling the better part of a day, we went out. We met Steve’s co-director, Amy Leonard, and had a little lunch before stomping off across the city. Steve and Amy still had to do some checking on things before starting the tour stuff the next day.
You might think that most of this stuff could be done in advance. That information about museum opening times and whatnot would all be available online. And it is available online. You just can’t trust it.
This was one of the key things I learned about Italy: the randomness of how things work. You can take nothing for granted. Places which are supposed to be open certain hours seldom actually are. Shows/galleries which are supposed to be in place frequently aren’t. Things which are supposed to be available “just ran out.” Things that are supposed to work, don’t. You get more-or-less used to this pretty quickly, and learn to be relaxed about it, staying flexible about anything and everything.
So Steve and Amy had to do a lot of checking stuff to see what was actually there, what would actually work. And I tagged along for the walk.
* * * * * * *
Yeah, walk. The things we needed to see were all within walking distance. Well, walking distance if you’re used to walking a lot. I thought I was. I walk about 1.5 miles every morning. Briskly. Up and down hills. So when Steve and Amy said that things were within walking distance, I just grinned and said “sure.”
I’m an idiot.
Well, no, not for saying that I’d be able/willing to walk that much. For making a last-minute decision to wear some decent but lightweight Nike walking shoes on the trip, rather than the heftier hiking boots I usually walk in.
See, downtown Rome is paved with cobblestones. Oh, not all of it – there are some main roads which are concrete and whatnot. But the vast majority of places where you walk is cobblestones. My feet were aching and bruised before we were halfway done.
* * * * * * *
Well, what did I see?
This:
Roman Forum
And a lot more like it.
* * * * * * *
When they were mostly done checking to make sure that their plans would work, we paused. All along the way Steve (mostly – occasionally Amy would chime in) would point out this or that notable structure. He didn’t go into detail with me, as all of this stuff was on the agenda for a complete explanation with the entire group, and there was no need to thrash over it all now.
But we paused on the east edge of the archeological site of the Forum. There was a raised platform about ten meters square.
“That’s where the original Colossus was” said Steve. I think he added something about it having been replaced by Nero with a statue of himself, which was subsequently torn down.
In the background was the Colosseum.
I looked around. Between all the walking, the jet-lag, and the quick intro into Rome, I was stunned. I looked back at Steve. At Amy. “I don’t know if you guys can still appreciate this, since you’re used to it, but this . . . this is . . . incredible. Just the scale of it. I mean, I have seen all of these things in images and documentaries all my life. But in person . . . they’re just overwhelming. You don’t really get a sense of how big, how grand, these things are.”
* * * * * * *
On the way back from the reconnoiter we stopped at Mad Jack’s Irish Pub for a beer.
I was still stunned. Still reeling from the size of the structures. From the scale of everything. From the deep history of the place.
I was used to seeing castles in northern Europe. Stuff six or seven hundred years old.
Where I had breakfast for the next three days was in the basement of the hotel. Or, more accurately, in part of the entry way to the Pompei Theatre, which was over 2,000 years old.
Sorta puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?
Jim Downey
Filed under: Alzheimer's, Amazon, Art, Babylon 5, Ballistics, Book Conservation, Connections, Feedback, General Musings, Italy, J. Michael Straczynski, JMS, Marketing, Predictions, Promotion, Publishing, Religion, Science Fiction, Survival, Travel, Writing stuff | Tags: Alzheimer's, Amazon, antiquity, art, Babylon 5, ballistics, blogging, care-giving, direct publishing, firearms, free, guns, Hades, Italy, jim downey, John Bourke, Kickstarter, Kindle, Lake Avernus, literature, love, memoir, predictions, promotion, Rome, Science Fiction, travel, writing, Z'ha'dum
I mentioned the other day that my trip to Italy had kicked loose some writing blocks I had been struggling with, and that it had given me ideas for additional stories and novels. It did. It also made me think hard about some decisions I needed to make. Not just about writing. Also about how I spend my life.
Simply put, I have several things I still want to accomplish before I die. Things which I won’t accomplish if I keep putting them off, putting time and energy into things which really don’t matter. Like arguments. Like writing fluff which other people could write, just in order to earn a little money. My time — my life — is more valuable than that.
I think that it was the experience of seeing so many incredible accomplishments from Classical Antiquity still around some 2,000 years later which made an impact on me.
Now, I have no illusions that anything I do will last that long. Nor am I going to give up ‘living in the moment’ and trying to enjoy my life and those I share it with. But I am going to reshuffle my priorities in some very concrete ways.
One of these will be much less time dinking-around in social media. Oh, I will still participate to some extent, still maintain connections with my friends and fans. But I am going to be less self-indulgent in that regard.
Another change in priority will mean writing fewer reviews and articles. That means a loss of income which has made a difference in recent years, and I have to find a way to replace that. After all, I still have to live. The result of this will be a Kickstarter campaign which will be formulated and announced in coming weeks — plenty of people have said that they are looking forward to seeing what my next novel is, and this is one way for them to help make that a reality sooner rather than later, a chance for them to put their money where their mouth is.
(And speaking of Kickstarter campaigns, some friends of mine just launched one to expand their artistic repertoire which I highly recommend — you can find it here: Ancient Metalsmithing Made Modern, or Perfecting Pressblech )
I recently turned 54. And I have accomplished a number of things of which I am justly proud. I have friends and family I love. I have a wonderful wife. I have written books and articles which have brought joy, knowledge, and solace to others. I have helped to preserve history in the form of books & documents. I have created art, sold art, made my little corner of the world a slightly better place. I’ve even helped expand the pool of ballistics knowledge a bit. Frankly, I’ve lived longer and accomplished more than I ever really expected to.
But I have more yet to do. Time to get on with it.
Jim Downey
*Yes, a Babylon 5 reference. In this case specifically to the episode “Conflicts of Interest” in which Sheridan makes the following statement:
I’ve been doing a great deal of thinking, Zack. There are several hundred unpleasant things I’ve been avoiding doing since I got back from Z’ha’dum. Now with Delenn gone I don’t have any excuses. I have to start taking care of them.”
Appropriately enough, one of the places I got to visit while in Italy was Lake Avernus — which the Romans considered the entrance to Hades. Yeah, I’ve been to Hell and back. It’s given me a new perspective.
Filed under: Amazon, Artificial Intelligence, Feedback, Gardening, Humor, Italy, Marketing, movies, Promotion, Science Fiction, Titan, Travel, Writing stuff | Tags: Amazon, blogging, direct publishing, gardening, humor, Italy, jim downey, Kindle, literature, promotion, reviews, Science Fiction, travel, TV, writing
I don’t know whether it was prompted by yesterday’s blog post, but late in the day there was a new review put up at Amazon which seemed to specifically address the one-star review. It’s a very positive review, and I would urge you to take a look at it if you get a chance. But this bit in particular caught my eye:
His story combines elements of many popular genres into a near epic tale. It has elements of Sci-fi, mystery, psychological thriller, political thriller, metaphysical enlightenment, alien contact, artificial intelligence, buddy-drama, and action-adventure. I can easily see this world screen-played into an engaging TV series that appeals to a wide range of people.
I’ve joked previously about a possible film treatment of the book, and what that might look like. And I have no reason to think that the TV-meatgrinder would result in anything much better. But I must admit that I find the idea of a TV series or miniseries based on the book to be kinda interesting.
Anyway, thanks to the author for the new review, and if you were prompted by my blog post yesterday that’s cool. Reviews do seem to make a real difference, so if you haven’t taken the time to write a review or rate the book on Amazon, please do.
I hope to get the first travelog from Italy posted later today. But first I have to pay catch-up a bit in my garden.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Alzheimer's, Book Conservation, Feedback, Guns, Health, Hospice, NPR, Politics, Predictions, Publishing, Science Fiction, Sleep, Society, tech, Writing stuff | Tags: Amazon, blogging, jim downey, Kindle, NPR, predictions, promotion, Science Fiction, technology, writing
While I’m on a bit of vacation, I have decided to re-post some items from the first year of this blog (2007). This item first ran on December 1, 2007.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I’ve mentioned previously, I try and catch NPR’s Weekend Edition Saturday regularly. This morning’s show was hosted by John Ydstie, and had a very nice three minute meditation titled Reflecting on a Past Generation which dealt with the differences between his life and his father-in-law’s, as measured in physical weight and strength. You should listen to it, but the main thrust of the piece is how Ydstie’s FIL was a man of the mechanical age, used to dealing with tools and metal and machines, whereas Ydstie is used to working with computers and electronic equipment which is becoming increasingly light weight, almost immaterial.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Last weekend, as part of my preparations for tackling in earnest the big conservation job for the seminary, I got a large fireproof safe. I needed something much larger than my little cabinet to safely secure the many books I will have here at any given time. And about the most cost-effective solution to this need was a commercial gun safe, the sort of thing you see in sporting goods stores and gun shops all around the country.
So, since a local retailer was having a big Holiday sale, I went and bought a safe. It’s 60 inches tall, 30 inches wide, and 24 inches deep. And it weighs 600 pounds.
And the retailer doesn’t offer any kind of delivery and set-up.
“Liability issues,” explained the salesman when I asked. “But the guys out at the loading dock will help get it loaded into your truck or trailer.”
Gee, thanks.
So I went and rented a low-to the ground trailer sufficiently strong for hauling a 600 pound safe (I have a little trailer which wouldn’t be suitable). And an appliance dolly. And went and got the safe.
When I showed up at the loading dock and said I needed to pick up a safe, people scattered. The poor bastard I handed the paperwork to sighed, then disappeared into the warehouse. He returned a few minutes later with some help and my safe, mounted on its own little wooden pallet and boxed up. The four guys who loaded it into my trailer used a little cargo-loader, and were still grunting and cursing. I mostly stayed out of their way and let them do the job the way they wanted. Liability issues, you know.
I drove the couple miles home, and parked. And with a little (but critical) help from my good lady wife, it took just a half an hour and a bit of effort to get the safe in the house and settled where I wanted it. Yes, it was difficult, and I wouldn’t really want to tackle moving anything larger essentially on my own. But using some intelligence, an understanding of balance, and the right tool for the job I was able to move the 600 pound mass of metal with relative ease. And it made me feel damned good about my flabby own self.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
In contrast, the most difficult things I have ever done don’t really have a ‘weight’ to them. Communion of Dreams took me years of hard work to write and rewrite (multiple times), and yet is nothing more than phantasm, able to fly through the internet and be read by thousands. There are no physical copies to be bought, shared with a friend, lugged around and cherished or dropped disgustedly into a recycle bin. It is just electrons, little packets of yes and no.
And these past years of being a care provider, how do I weigh them (other than the additional fat I carry around from lack of proper exercise and too little sleep)? I suppose that I could count up all the times I have had to pick up my MIL, transfer her between chair and toilet, or lay her down gently on her bed. But even in this, things tend towards the immaterial, as she slowly loses weight along with her memories of this life. And soon, she will be no more than a body to be removed, carried one last time by others sent by the funeral home.
How do you weigh a life?
Jim Downey
Filed under: Connections, Emergency, Failure, Feedback, Flu, Flu Wiki, Guns, Health, Preparedness, Society, Survival, tech, Writing stuff | Tags: blogging, EDC, emergency, guns, health, jim downey, predictions, survival, technology
While I’m on a bit of vacation, I have decided to re-post some items from the first year of this blog (2007). This item first ran on December 29, 2007.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I have mentioned previously, I enjoy shooting. And I carry a concealed weapon (legally – by permit and where allowed by law) pretty much all the time. This isn’t paranoia, just a simple recognition that we live in an unpredictable and sometimes dangerous world. That same mindset applies to preparations for any kind of small-scale disaster, whether natural or man-made. If you live in the Midwest, you understand that power outages occur due to weather (tornadoes in Spring, Summer, and Fall, ice-storms in Winter), and that you may need to be self-reliant for days or even a couple of weeks. I’ve long abided by the Scout motto of “Be Prepared”, and while you wouldn’t find a years worth of supplies and a generator cached here, we could manage pretty easily for a period of a couple of months. That’s not too far off what is recommended by both the government and independent health agencies. As I’ve discussed, the onset of a pandemic flu may well cause a disruption of normal economic activity for a prolonged period, and I cite such a disaster as the background for Communion of Dreams.
Anyway, in an accident during one shooting trip this fall I managed to slice open my right thumb pretty well. I had ridden out to the family farm where I usually shoot with one of my buddies, so didn’t have my car, which contains a fairly complete first-aid kit. And, as it turned out, my buddy didn’t have any kind of first aid supplies in his car. We improvised a bandage from stuff in my gun cleaning kit, and things were OK. When I got home, I added a real first aid kit to my ‘range bag’, and didn’t think much more about it.
Then, a couple of weeks later I was back out at the farm with my BIL. We were walking the border of the property adjacent to a state park and marking it as private, since a lot of people don’t bother to keep track of where they are and we’ve had a lot of tresspassing. At one point down in a secluded valley my BIL and I paused for a breather, and just out of curiosity I checked to see if I had a signal for my cell phone. Nope. Hmm.
Now, it was nice weather, just a tad cool and damp when we set out. But it was November, and the leaves were slick in places where a fall could easily result in a twisted knee or a broken bone. I got to thinking – if I were on my own, what did I have with me that I could use in the event of an emergency? Oh, I had plenty of stuff in my car – but that was the better part of a mile away. What did I have on my person?
In truth, I was in better shape than most people would likely be in such a situation. I always have a Leatherman multi-tool on my belt, a small LED flashlight on my keychain, and a pistol and ammo. But still, since I don’t smoke I’m not in the habit of carrying matches or a lighter, I once again didn’t have any first-aid items, et cetera. I had stuck a small bottle of water in my jacket pocket, but that would hardly last long. I could probably cobble together some kind of splint or impromptu crutch, but it would be a challenge to get out of such a situation on my own.
When I got home I got to doing a bit of research about emergency survival kits. Google that, and you’ll come up with about 30,000 hits to sites offering everything from bomb shelters to equipment for first responders. Not particularly helpful. I decided to take a different tack, and started to think about what I wanted to have in a kit small enough that I would *always* have it with me. I set my goal for constructing a kit which would fit into an Altoids tin, since that is small enough to easily slip into any pocket.
This problem has been tackled by others, and there are actually some such small kits for sale that’ll run you upwards of $50. I looked over the commercially available kits, saw what others have done to solve the problems inherent in such a project, and came up with the following:
What you see there is:
- Surgical Mask (can also be used as a bandage)
- Fresnell lens for magnification or starting fires
- 20mm bubble compass
- Single-edged razor blade
- Suture pack (curved needle mounted with suture thread)
- Band-aids & steri-strips
- Antibiotic packet
- Emergency whistle
- Superglue (repairs, fabrication, wound sealant)
- Mini-lighter
- Cotton tinder tabs
- Water purification tablets (can also be used as antiseptic)
- 30′ of Spiderwire (15 lbs test)
- Safety pins
- Small ziplock bag for water
- Cash
- Painkillers
- Benadryl (anti-histamine, sedative)
- Anti-diarrheal tablets
Yes, it all fits in the Altoids tin. Just. It is not entirely satisfactory, as I would have liked to have a large piece (say 18″x24″) of heavy-duty aluminum foil, a couple of garbage bags, some lightweight steel wire, maybe some duct tape or heavier cord. But it is a pretty good start – any small kit like this is by necessity an exercise in trade-offs. (Edited to add 06/01/08: I wrapped about 15′ of 24ga steel wire around the mini-lighter in a single layer, tightly wrapped. Takes up almost no additional room, and will be easy to unwrap for use.)
In searching out the items I wanted (difficult to find items linked to my sources), it became clear that in some cases I would spend more on shipping for some of the components than I would for the actual items. So I made one such kit for myself, and another half dozen to give to friends. That got the cost down to under $10 each (not including the cash, obviously).
Your best survival tool in any situation is your brain. But it doesn’t hurt to have a few advantages in the form of useful items close at hand. With this small kit, and what I usually have with me anyway, I am reasonably well prepared to deal with most situations that I can envision. And I thought that since I went to the trouble to construct it, I would put the information about it here for anyone else who might have some use for it.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Arthur C. Clarke, Astronomy, Carl Sagan, Fermi's Paradox, George Carlin, movies, Predictions, Preparedness, R. Buckminster Fuller, Religion, Science, Science Fiction, SETI, Society, Space, Writing stuff | Tags: Arthur C. Clarke, blogging, Carl Sagan, George Carlin, jim downey, predictions, R. Buckminster Fuller, science, Science Fiction, space, technology
While I’m on a bit of vacation, I have decided to re-post some items from the first year of this blog (2007). This item first ran on June 26, 2007.
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A friend passed along this entry from today’s Quote of the Day:
Communion of Dreams is, essentially, about what happens when we are unexpectedly confronted with the reality of the existence of extra-terrestrial intelligence. In this I am echoing countless other science fiction stories/novels/films, some more consciously than others. Most directly, I am paying homage to two authors:Sir Arthur C. Clarke, and Carl Sagan. For anyone interested in doing so, references can be found in my novel to both men, directly and indirectly.
And whenever you tackle this problem (whether or not there is intelligent life elsewhere in the universe), you are also basically dealing with issues similar to religious faith. At least for the time being, we have no evidence, no scientific proof, of either E.T. or God. Friends who know me as a strong atheist have commented how surprised they were with how I deal with the issue of religion in Communion. Yet this is in keeping with how science fiction writers, and Carl Sagan specifically in his novel Contact, tend to approach this issue: leaving open the possibility and understanding the revolution in thought which it will demand when there is proof of E.T. (or God, for that matter). I don’t recall it being in the book, but there’s a line in the movie version of Contact which has always made sense to me, when the protagonist’s father says regarding the possibility of life on other planets: “I don’t know, Sparks. But I guess I’d say if it is just us… seems like an awful waste of space.”
Which brings me to another favorite quote, one I’ve appended to my emails for the last several years:
“Sometimes I think we’re alone. Sometimes I think we’re not.
In either case, the thought is staggering.”
– R. Buckminster Fuller
And I think that sums it all up for me, on both the question of God and whether there is other intelligence out there. For Communion, I come down on the side of proving the existence of one, and figure that is enough for one book to tackle.
Jim Downey
Filed under: BoingBoing, Civil Rights, Constitution, Cory Doctorow, Emergency, Failure, Government, Marketing, NYT, Politics, Predictions, Press, Privacy, Science Fiction, Society, Survival, tech, Terrorism | Tags: blogging, free, jim downey, NPR, predictions, science, Science Fiction, technology
While I’m on a bit of vacation, I have decided to re-post some items from the first year of this blog (2007). This item first ran on November 12, 2007.
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Over the weekend, news came out of yet another “Trust us, we’re the government” debacle, this time in the form of the principal deputy director of national intelligence saying that Americans have to give up on the idea that they have any expectation of privacy. Rather, he said, we should simply trust the government to properly safeguard the communications and financial information that they gather about us. No, I am not making this up. From the NYT:
“Our job now is to engage in a productive debate, which focuses on privacy as a component of appropriate levels of security and public safety,” Donald Kerr, the principal deputy director of national intelligence, told attendees of the Geospatial Intelligence Foundation’s symposium in Dallas.
* * *
“Too often, privacy has been equated with anonymity,” he said, according to a transcript [pdf]. “But in our interconnected and wireless world, anonymity – or the appearance of anonymity – is quickly becoming a thing of the past.”
The future, Mr. Kerr says, is seen in MySpace and other online troves of volunteered information, and also in the the millions of commercial transactions made on the web or on the phone every day. If online merchants can be trusted, he asks, then why not federal employees, who face five years in jail and a $100,000 fine for misusing data from surveillance?
Or, from the Washington Post:
“Our job now is to engage in a productive debate, which focuses on privacy as a component of appropriate levels of security and public safety,” Kerr said. “I think all of us have to really take stock of what we already are willing to give up, in terms of anonymity, but (also) what safeguards we want in place to be sure that giving that doesn’t empty our bank account or do something equally bad elsewhere.”
This mindset, that allowing the government to just vacuum up all of our personal information, to monitor our email and phone communications, or whatever else they are doing but don’t want to tell is, is somehow equivalent to my posting information on this blog or giving some company my credit card number when I want to buy something, is fucking absurd. First off, there is a fundamental difference between what I willingly reveal to someone in either a personal or commercial exchange, and having my information taken without my knowledge or agreement. To say otherwise is to say that just because my phone number is listed in the phone directory, everyone who has the ability to do so is free to listen in on my phone conversations.
Even worse, it shows how we are viewed by this individual, and our government: as their subjects, without rights or expectations of being in control of our lives.
And the notion that we can just trust governmental employees with our private information is patently ridiculous. First off, saying that we should because we already trust commercial businesses with our private information is completely specious – how many times in the last year have you heard of this or that company’s database having been hacked and credit card, personal, and financial information having been stolen? This alone is a good reason to not allow further concentration of our private data to be gathered in one place. Secondly, think of the many instances when hard drives with delicate information have been lost by government employees in the State Department, at the Department of Veterans Affairs, or even at Los Alamos National Laboratory – and those are just the things which have actually made it into the news. Third, and last (for now), anyone who has had any experience with any government agency can attest to just how screwed up such a large bureaucracy can be, in dealing with even the simplest information.
I recently went round and round with the IRS over some forms which they thought I had to file. I didn’t, and established that to the satisfaction of the office which contacted me. Yet for six months I was still being contacted by another office in charge with collecting the necessary fees and fines – three times I had to send a copy of the letter from the initial office which cleared me of the matter, before they finally, and almost grudgingly, admitted that I owed them no money (for not filing the documents I didn’t need to file). These are not the same people I want to trust to handle even *more* information about me.
Allowing the government to take this position – that the default should be that they can just take whatever information about us they want, so long as they promise not to misuse it – is to abandon any illusions that we are in any way, shape, or form a free people. It would turn the entire equation of the Constitution on its head, saying that the government is sovereign and we its subjects. That such a thing is even proposed by a government employee is extremely revealing, and should cause no little amount of concern.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Alzheimer's, Babylon 5, Ballistics, Feedback, Guns, J. Michael Straczynski, JMS, Predictions, Preparedness, Science Fiction, Space, tech, Writing stuff | Tags: Alzheimer's, Babylon 5, blogging, direct publishing, health, hospice, J. Michael Straczynski, jim downey, literature, predictions, science, Science Fiction, space, technology, writing
While I’m on a bit of vacation, I have decided to re-post some items from the first year of this blog (2007). This item first ran on September 24, 2007.
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“All of life can be broken down into moments of transition or moments of revelation.”
-G’Kar, Z’ha’dum
Yesterday a buddy of mine and I got out to do some shooting. It may seem odd to someone who isn’t into shooting sports, but this can actually be one of the most relaxing things you can do, at least for me at this time. Why? Because, when I’m shooting, I have to be completely attentive to what I am doing – I can’t be thinking about what is going on at home, whether my MIL is stirring and needs attention, et cetera. As I have mentioned previously, one of the most exhausting aspects of being a care-giver for someone with Alzheimer’s/dementia is that I always, always, have part of my attention diverted to keeping track of what is going on with my MIL. You try doing that with part of your brain while accomplishing anything else, and you’ll quickly understand the problem.
Anyway, it was a good time, doing some informal shooting out on private land. We shot some pistols, a little 9mm carbine of mine which is just a lot of fun, and then my friend got out one of his black powder rifles: a Peabody .43 Spanish made in 1863. My friend is something of an authority on 19th century guns, and has been educating me about them. We shot several rounds, the large 400 grain bullets punching paper at 40 yards, the gun giving a slow but very solid shove back into your shoulder. That’s typical with black-powder: it’s not the sharp crack you get from modern weapons, with their higher pressures from faster-burning powder. After each shot, we’d pull down the trigger guard, rolling the receiver down and ejecting the cartridge, then insert another cartridge by hand and set it before closing the rolling block to prepare the weapon to fire again.
After all the shooting was done, our equipment packed up and put away, we headed back into town and got some lunch. As we talked over lunch, I asked my friend about how long it was before the Peabody we had been shooting evolved into the later repeating rifles which proved so reliable and popular. Because, as I saw it, all the elements were there: a dependable brass cartridge, a mechanism to extract and eject the spent shell, the moving receiver. All that was needed was a way to hold more rounds and feed them.
As we finished up our meal he gave me the brief run-down of the history or the repeating rifle development (which is basically what you’ll find in this Wikipedia article, particularly the sub-headings of ‘predecessors’ and ‘development’), and the conversation moved on to a more general discussion. I started to explain that one of the things I find so interesting, one of the unifying themes in all the things I have done is an interest in…
“Transitions,” my friend said.
I stopped. I was going to say “innovations,” but he was right.
“It shows in your novel.” (He’d recently read Communion.)
“Actually, I was thinking more of ‘innovations’ – those instances when people bring together different and diffuse elements to achieve something new, whether it is a mechanism, or a procedure, or just a way of looking at the world.”
We paid the bill, headed out to the car.
“Yeah, but it’s like the way that the people involved in your book – the characters – are all struggling to understand this new thing, this new artifact, this unexpected visitor. And I like the way that they don’t just figure it out instantly – the way each one of them tries to fit it into their own expectations about the world, and what it means. They struggle with it, they have to keep learning and investigating and working at it, before they finally come to an understanding.” He looked at me as we got back in the car. “Transitions.”
Transitions, indeed. Moments of transition, moments of revelation. Because that is all we have, when you come right down to it.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Alzheimer's, Amazon, Feedback, Health, Hospice, Kindle, Marketing, Promotion, Publishing, Society | Tags: Alzheimer's, Amazon, blogging, care-giving, direct publishing, free, health, hospice, jim downey, John Bourke, Kindle, memoir, promotion, reviews
Happy anniversary!
This is the one-year anniversary of when Her Final Year was first published. The culmination of years of writing & editing, and many more years of experience caring for Martha Sr and Georgia, interest has been building in this book since we first released it into the wild. The reviews (13 as I am writing this) have all been 5-star and very touching. Here’s an excerpt from one of the recent reviews:
A must-read for anyone dealing with a family member suffering from Alzheimer’s/dementia. Easy read, no holds barred memoir. Saw so much of my own mother, now in moderate-severe stage. Much good info and ideas. Suddenly I don’t feel so alone.
And today it is free to download. Yes – the Kindle edition of the book will be available all day for free to anyone who wants to get it. You don’t even need a Kindle to read it in this version – Amazon has a free Kindle emulator/app for virtually all computers, laptops, and mobile devices.
Do yourself and your family a favor. Download this book. Share it with others. Care-giving is something all of us will probably have to face, one way or another: this book helps.
Thanks.
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 