The Island Journal

I am not usually a big joiner as previously stated, but in this instance I made an exception. Geocaching is like a global scavenger hunt with thousands of participants looking for hidden caches of items others who are playing the game have left. A person connects to Geocaching . Com and looks at a list of caches near them, writes down or downloads the GPS coordinates, and follows the bread crumbs to within 10 to 30 feet of the cache and the the person looks for it. It’s almost like hide and seek on a grand scale, a game I was particularly fond of in my youth.

There are a couple of thoughts that have been swirling in the quivering gray mass betwixt my ears that I thought I’d share with my readership. First off, treasures left behind in a Geocache are usually not treasures at all but what most would term “junk”. I don’t see it that way. When you were a child, I would hazard a bet that you had a small box, possibly tucked neatly under your bed or behind your dresser that held all of those baubles that you held most dear. If someone one were to find your precious stash of meaningful keepsakes, a toy ring, tin whistle, matchbox car, a colorful marble… what would they think? Maybe that they’d stumbled on a box of junk? You know and I know, it’s not junk but wondrous and meaningful items of great significance. Inside a cache, one might find a plastic bug or a toy racecar, possibly a plastic penguin, or a toy soldier. The person who left these items found them to be significant in some way and so that significance follows the item to it’s next owner. The point I’m trying to make is… what is trash and what is treasure? Who decides?

I have decided not to take something from a cache unless I find it meaningful to do so. As I usually won’t part with the things that are meaningful to me (call it greed), I have decided to put something of myself into caches instead. I am on a quest to make a token that will show that I was there and maybe give someone a grin or two. I imagine someone finding what I’ve left and saying, “Hey! I’ve got a Boomchit!” or “Wow, look at this!” and having a joyful experience. I know even if I left a toy car or a plastic insect, someone would find it significant enough to take it and move it along but I would rather more of an impact and really I wouldn’t know if I found it again if it were “my bug” or “my car”. It’s not unique enough for my liking. My friend Sarah uses ninjas… very her and rather unique. My friend Andy has a thing for penguins and I think that’s what he’s going to start leaving. Because of my Internet moniker of “Captain Jones” and my website being the Island On The Web, I thought maybe something pirate-ish. I thought about something with bombs and quill pens because of the other alias of BoomPoet. That’s when I decided to try out using polymer clay to mint my own coins…. trust me it didn’t work. While interesting in theory, it just didn’t work out.

Now I’m on a mission. I’m seeking something that’s uniquely me to leave behind as evidence of my passing. Those who don’t know me might think that I’m putting to much thought into this, but those who do would say it’s a normal level of interest and consideration. Hey, it’s better to think of something pleasant that to stress over things that are not.

Tags: geocaching, technology, travel
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I hear quite a lot that travel, specifically the travel I do from coast to coast, is interesting and exotic. While I do get to do things others admire and go to places I have not been, the actual travel part of the gig is just a way to get from point A to point B. When I first started out, I complained under my breath each time the security checkpoint stopped me because of all of the gadgetry in my bag. I then progressed to a point where I was no longer annoyed and just moved through like one of the cattle. That’s what we become… cattle. We accept our lot and move through with no complaint.

Once the cattle phase was firmly in play, I started to take the energy that I had used to complain to myself about all manner of things and put it towards observation. It takes a fare amount of energy to notice little things about your environment and the other cattle around you. Looking and seeing are not the same as observing. Observing is a science… it can be a penetrative act or it can be a subtle and reverent affair. One of the things I noticed were all the laptop users of which, at first, I was not one. I did not see the point of whipping out a large and unwieldy hunk of tech just to check my email… that’s not what they were doing. These people… were blogging.

I am an intermittent blogger. When I blog, it’s usually from a dark room somewhere strange and away from the prying eyes of the world. It’s safer to unleash my usually frantic ravings from the privacy of somewhere a little dank and cave-like. It’s almost as though I am expecting someone to stop by and sell me some exotic drug or to purchase pirated software (I don’t do drugs and I don’t sell pirated software, just painting a picture). These people publicly pouring out their deepest thoughts, thoughts that could not wait to be shared, thoughts the world has to be made aware of, became something brave in my mind… something to aspire to. Then I read one of these blogs, the last bastions of free expressions. It was nothing I expected.

I was sitting at a counter by my gate and noticed over the shoulder of the woman in front of me the title of her blog… the name escapes me at present. I immediately produced my hunk of technology and connected. I eagerly anticipated reading of her trials, her overcoming adversity, her deeply personal and probably anonymous statements of truth that would touch my soul and induce tears to fall. It was a cookie recipe. Much like the hidden track on that Tool album that sounds like something from a Nazi youth rally, it was a simple cookie recipe that she wanted to share with her readership. Could that not have waited? Why was this worthy of the spektical that hyper observant people were being subjected to?

I wanted more. I began to wander around the terminal (I had a long layover) and I found more bloggers and more disappointment. “See the pictures of the car I bought?” and “I’m so sick of having to sit by fat people on planes…” and “I thought I might die if she bought the same scarf I was looking at.”. Drivel! Heresy! How very dare they? How dare I? I was the one spying and skulking around looking for… well, I don’t know what I was looking for. I felt guilty for judging people who were just doing nothing more than sharing… much as I did from my dark corners and mysterious hotel rooms. These people with their new cars, scarf purchases, and hatred for fatties (like myself I might add… not a small fella here) were simply taking it to the streets. Their drivel is revolutionary, I began to realize.

I decided, this time, to write in the open. This was written from an airport terminal in Saint Louis Missouri. I am now the douche who blogs from the airport. How do I feel about that? Do I feel like a revolutionary? Do I feel like I sharing something more important than usual? Do I feel my expression is vindicated? No. I’m just another terminal blogger. How dare I?

I’m going back to the cave.

Tags: airport, blog, travel
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So I met my long lost cousin… well, she wasn’t so much lost as much as I’d never met her before. And come to think of it not just a cousin but a second or third cousin. And Not just her, but her fantastic family. I am currently in Las Vegas, or “lost wages” as some out here refer to it, and Jennifer Decker, the afore mentioned cousin you may know from her family blog, Deckerific, lives out here. She’s one of the most righteous chicks I have ever met and her family kicks much ass. Her Husband is a skater from way back, her son is following in Dad’s foot steps and he and his buds are making skate films and he’s an artist to boot, her daughter is like miniature adult who works with polymer clay… yet another artist and Jennifer herself is an artist whether she’ll admit it or not. She says she’s crafty.

I met up with Jen at her work place. We ate and talked for a bit and she told me about Red Rock, seen in these pictures here. (there will be more) She said she’d go out there with me and we had a blast just hanging out, seeing the rock formations, listening to strange dudes explain how lightening strikes the rocks at the highest point on the trail and leaves these little rusty indentations, all the while knowing he’s a goober. It was great fun. We even saw some wild donkeys, though they were about ten miles away and climbing a rock. Then we went back to her house where she and her husband cooked a great meal and I got to talk to her kids. They’re such a cool bunch.

Thanks Jennifer for the great day. You rock.

Tags: family, las vegas, travel
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Thought I would share. I am currently on a trip that’s taking me from Las Vegas to Reno to Sacramento to Fresno to LA to Fontana then back to Las Vegas. So far I’ve taken almost a hundred pictures of various scenic vistas, all from the moving car. I figured I’d share some of these with you. Enjoy.

Tags: las vegas, travel, west coast
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