Capitol Hill Blog Party

On Saturday after lunch and a walk in the park, Angel and I put on our best hipster costumes and walked down the street to the Capitol Hill Block Party--our local--suddenly really hyped--indie rock music festival. Here are some pictures (most of which are really bad, sorry) and a recap.

(Oh, and PS--Shayne, these are Hipsters. Allll Hipsters.)

We stuck almost exclusively to Northwest bands--not really intentionally, but b/c there were a lot of them there, I wanted to see them, and Angel had no preference because she'd never heard of anyone at the show. First up were the Cave Singers, who make a really good back-woods-old-timey-whiskey-jugs-and-broke-down-cars-and-pentecostal-churches kind of indie rock. There's a lot of that coming out of the PNW these days, and I like it. Fake back-woods as the new grunge?

After them, we sat and drank coffee while Kimya Dawson was singing. I think the top picture is the crowd during her show, and the bottom picture is definitely my old buddy Joel, who we talked to while we were drinking coffee (he wasn't doing that when we talked to him). Neither Angel nor I really liked Kimya, but apparently she sang a song from the movie Juno, which is one of the best movies of the year--apparently.



After Kimya's show we wandered into a packed club called Neumo's to watch Portland's "The Builders and the Butchers". Neither one of us had heard them before, but they were probably the highlight of the festival for us. More slightly pentecostal/old-timey flavored NW indie rock, and awesome. I always think that religious imagery makes a nice spice for music, and they sprinkle it through nicely. I liked them so much (and my pictures are so bad) that I've included someone else's video of their song "Let it Rain". We weren't anywhere near this close.

After that we wandered out to a packed Fleet Foxes show on the main stage. They're everyone's favorite Seattle band right now. As Angel said, they're kind of like the BeeGees. Well, I guess kind of indie rock BeeGees. They use four-part harmonies anyway. They're a good band, but not really a great live show when you're standing near the back of the crowd and a steady stream of people keep pushing by you and tripping over you and that sort of thing.

After the Fleet Foxes, we went back to Neumos and watched two songs by Jaguar Love, who are a one of the three new bands composed of ex-Blood Brothers members. Shrieking indie rock/sort of hardcore kind of stuff, not a bad band, but not my thing. Angel couldn't take it, so we left.

After that, we left and went to dinner at a Vietnamese place next to a grocery store. I had Mongolian Tofu and Thai Iced Tea, and Angel had some mushroom kind of thing.

After dinner, we went to an 'unofficial' Triumph of Lethargy Skinned Alive to Death show in the ChaCha Lounge, which is in the basement of Bimbo's Cantina, which used to be called Bimbo's Bitchin' Burrito Kitchen, which was a much better name. TOLSATD put on a great show as always; more punk rock than I've seen them before. As a band a few years back, they started off really heavily experimental, but have morphed into something more accessible. Andrea Zollo (ex-Pretty Girls Make Graves) on vocals has been a nice addition to the band over the last year or so. She is pictured above with Spencer and Joel and some people in a bar doing a Bikini Kill cover.


That was kind of the end of the night for us. We stuck around and watched a few songs by the Hold Steady (above) who are fun and dorky, and I probably would have liked more when I was a teenager.



After that we stood around for a few songs by Devotchka. Once again, apparently everyone loves them--they were the festival headliner--but I don't really get it. They're kind of world-musicky and had a song on Little Miss Sunshine, which makes me think that if you consider yourself cultured, fun and indie, you should try to enjoy their music--or at least tell people that you do. With that in mind, I've included one of their videos above.

Blog Walk: Capitol Hill to Discovery Park

Today has been the best weather day in Seattle all year--80's and sunny--so this morning I undertook perhaps my most ambitious Blog Walk yet: walking 7 miles from our place to Discovery Park in Magnolia, and then walking the 3 mile park loop at the end. All for you, anonymous internet readers, and I hope you appreciate it because my legs are now hair-covered sticks of pasty white jello. Craftily, I topped the three hour walk off with lunch at Dick's, which negated any positive physical benefit I might have gained from the process.

It really doesn't get much nicer in Seattle than it was today. We had stunning views of the Olympics from the Hill:
Seattle's newest major park investment, in South Lake Union, was generally deserted at 10 am on a Friday, but I did see a bunch of highly-evolved turtles braving the sewage and enjoying the sun:


(St. Mark's Cathedral from South Lake Union)

Hearty little fellas. Between South Lake Union and Fremont is a little houseboat community. Here's what a houseboat community looks like:

And here's what the front door to Magnolia looks like:
Discovery Park was stunning today with a great view of the Olympic Mountains:
Mt. Rainier is in the shot below. If you click to view the bigger version, you might be able to see it faintly towards the center of the screen. It does strange things, disappearing and reappearing.

Here's a picture I like. It's nice here on days like today:
Sometimes I post what i was thinking about while I was walking, to make this whole experience more (pretentious) than just me posting pictures on the internet of things I saw today. Instead of doing that, today I'm going to take a shower, because I'm sweaty. In other news, I've decided again not to be a priest. Probably I'll be a deacon. We'll see how many more times my decision changes.

Blog Walk Seattle: Belltown and Waterfront

Sheesh. Life has been heavy lately for about fifty different reasons. Tonight, God willing, for the next four hours I'm going to sit here. I'm going to eat a mildly disgusting dinner concocted from Naan, spinach, salsa and cheese. Then I'm going to bed.

In the meantime, per Wes' demand, I'm going to post another Seattle blog walk. (For those new to the blog, that's when I walk around town taking crappy pictures, post the results on the internet, and talk about my experience. I also like to call my walks "Urban Caminos", because it sounds super pretentious in a religious way) I had to run to the library for Angel and it was a perfect Seattle Spring night (sorry Ohio), so I decided to make an event of it. It's a nice long one. Here's what my afternoon looked like:


Actually, this is what Seattle looks like these days--and particularly our neighborhood. Apparently nobody has notified us about the Housing bubble breaking, because up go the condos. Just waiting for that to catch up with us about the time Angel and I are trying to sell...

Here's what non-Mars Hill Baptists look like in Seattle. You probably wouldn't recognize them if you're from the South. They're not the same breed. Urban Baptists, kinder and gentler. This is Seattle First Baptist, a Church close by our original apartment on First Hill, and a few blocks down the way from our present place.

Here's what Exhibit F looks like in Seattle's trial for ill-advised public park building. This one's called "Freeway Park", and it's as appealing as it sounds. It's also known as "Murder Park", I think because someone got killed there 20 years ago, and Seattle urbanites don't forget these things. One of Angel's co-workers told her that they don't turn on the many built-in fountains here because the noise covers the screams, so no one can hear you being attacked. (They truly are never on, summer or winter). Like "underpass park", also a nice place to take the children for a picnic in the evening.

I've posted pictures of the exterior of the Seattle Public Library: Central Branch in the past. For my money, it really must be the coolest library in the world. Here's a representative shot of the interior. I had to pick up a book for Angel on nursing, and a book for myself on Mother Theresa. This is the upper lobby. It's worth a Google search to view more images of the place. On top of looking cool, they have every movie I've ever wanted to watch in their catalog, so we use it like a free Netflix system. (This was actually my walk destination. I was going to go to the Pike Place Market afterwards for shots of touristy Seattle on a Saturday evening, but for some reason I feel too self-conscious taking pictures in touristy places around town. I don't want people lumping me in with "one of them" when I'm obviously "one of us".)


This is as artsy as I ever hope to be. Can you see postmodern me through the looking glass darkly? I posted this one b/c I like to include photos of myself, and the other one I took made me look like a moron.

Instead of going to the Market, I went straight for the Seattle Waterfront. Here are a few shots from along the way.


Being the up and coming/outdoorsy city that it is, Seattle recently opened a really nice outdoor "Art Park". Certainly very white (seriously, click on the link, it's a much better site than mine), but also a very nice place to go on a cool Saturday evening in the Spring. This is a picture of their amphitheater and signature piece of art:


On the way back home from the Art Park, I walked through Belltown, which is, I think, the most expensive neighborhood in Seattle per square foot, and the home of dozens of giant condo buildings full of Yuppies. About 15 years ago, Belltown was kind of like Capitol Hill is now--the center of the music scene, a little grimy, and quickly gentrifying. Now, the gentrification is officially complete. The final picture below is evidence. It's a shot of the inside of the recently closed Crocodile Cafe. During the '90s and early '00s, this place was the heart of the Seattle music scene, which of course meant that Nirvana, Mudhoney, The Murder City Devils, Sunny Day Real Estate, Band of Horses, Death Cab for Cutie, Modest Mouse, Pearl Jam and every other Seattle band played there and thought it was cool. (Incidentally, my manager from Specialty Bottle used to hang out there with Greg Dulli from the Afghan Whigs and Peter Buck from R.E.M. Peter Buck was part owner with his wife, and encouraged my manager to pursue a career aboard a cruise ship. He didn't, and he's still at Specialty Bottle, but Peter Buck ended up getting a divorce, so who's to say who was right?) Now the Crocodile is just another victim of rising real estate costs (and the fact that no one wants to go to Yuppie Central for Indie rock shows. No offense yuppies).


In concluding these Blog Walk Blogs, I will often include my reflections from the experience. I'm not really in a reflecting mood this evening, so instead I'll include the random selections from my iPod playlist that I listened to during the walk so I wouldn't have to reflect. Thanks media, for your mind numbing effects:

1. Sufjan Stephens: In this Temple as in the hearts of man for whom he saved the Earth
2. Johnny Cash: I got Stripes
3. The Afghan Whigs: I Keep Coming Back
4. Paul Simon: Homeless
5. u2: Wild Honey
6.The Arcade Fire: Intervention
7. u2: Zooropa
8. u2: The First Time
9. Dido: Thank You
10. The Murder City Devils: Tell You Brother
11. Dido: Hunter
12. Bruce Springsteen: Eyes on the Prize
13. Split Enz: Message to my Girl
14. Sinead O'Connor: Special Cases
15. Radiohead: Body Snatchers
16.The Arcade Fire: Black Mirror
17. Murder City Devils: Demon Brother
18. u2: City of Blinding Light
19. Radiohead: House of Cards
20. Dido: Life for Rent
21. Springsteen: State Trooper
22. Springsteen: Paradise
23. The Pogues: Metropolis
24. Murder City Devils: Get off the Floor
25.Murder City Devils: In This Town
26. The Pogues: Sit Down by the Fire
27. Crowded House: Pineapple Head
28. Springsteen: We Shall Overcome
29. Johnny Cash: Jackson
30. The Pogues: Bottle of Smoke
31. u2: Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses?

Discovery Park

After having realized that my commitment to walking all over the city has had it's desired effect--that is, helping me to not hate living in the city anymore--I decided that it was time to allow myself to go back to walking where I like for a day, at Discovery Park in the Magnolia neighborhood. Here are some photo highlights for your enjoyment.

Path facing Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountains.

Seattle Sort-Of Beach


The Park's small peninsula, with beach, lighthouse, and Olympic Mountains in the background.


And one more shot of the Olympics across the water.

Being back out away in the "natural" (that is, not yet covered in concrete) world got me thinking back on two things: New Zealand, and my science/ecology and faith interest. In a few months I'll be presenting at St. Margaret's about the theological foundations for environmental concern and action, and might do the same at a national Environment and Faith conference that our diocese is hosting.

To dash off a few of my initial thoughts in that direction:

1. Lynn White in the 1970's essentially blamed Christian faith, and the biblical call to subdue the earth, for our present environmental crisis, and the idea that Christians are anti-environment is pretty widespread among religion's modern cultured despisers. That's a bit silly, in part because sociological studies have repeatedly shown that religious faith doesn't generally have direct causal control over human action, even among the most religious, but also because it ignores a significant portion of Christian tradition, which views the earth as Creation and humans as stewards and protectors. That emphasis has been visibly present in Christian tradition as long there's been such a thing, while those who have taught the "subdue" theology essentially appeared around the time of the industrial revolution, when "subduing" the earth became both possible and lucrative. (It's also been popular among the "Last Days" crowd--which should be noted as a Christian minority--since it doesn't seem to matter much if we destroy creation, since Jesus will be back to wipe it out soon anyway). Christians need to accept responsibility where it exists, since we have been complicit in the abuse of nature, but lets not allow ourselves to be used as a scapegoat.

2. There's recently been a significant theological shift towards panentheism--the idea that God's spirit is present in all of creation (though God godself transcends it--which is what distinguishes this from pantheism). This theology undergirds much of recent Christian environmentalism and eco-spirituality. Our experience of God in the grandeur, beauty, mystery and tumult of nature is a true indicator of God's presence there, not a sort of pagan sentimentalism. It's also a foundation of our moral imperative to treat creation with respect.

3. Jesus himself was seen in the New Testament (Ephesians, to be exact) as the reconciler of all Creation. Thus, if we are to follow Christ, there must be some component which includes the pursuit of the "New Creation" in the present--just as there must be some pursuit of the Kingdom of God amidst this world's structures.

4. If you don't like all of this nature stuff, our environmental crisis is also a serious human problem (which is really why most care about it anyway). We're screwing things up, and the poor will be the most deeply affected. The Church has a responsibility to not be complicit in that.

A Stroll Around the Lake

Those of you paying attention might have wondered if I'd given up on my blogwalking habit. In fact, I have not--I've just not had the opportunity to take one in weeks! Today, however, I got up early and decided to work off some of that Thanksgiving fat by taking a walk around Lake Union, which I think ended up being about 8 miles. Now I'm knackered.

Here are some photos and captions:



This is a photo which lots of people take, from Volunteer Park on Capitol Hill near where we live.



I'm not sure what this is all about. It's under a bridge on the Burke-Gilman Trail, in Seattle's University District. I love the strange and giant things you find in public places in this city--particularly under bridges.



Seattle's Electric!



Another strange Seattle Park, which I happened to wander into today--Gasworks Park. It's actually just a fenced off, rusty old Gasworks, but it's got a great view of the city, so people like to spend summer afternoon's laying here.



On the last part of my walk, I crossed the surprisingly shaky Aurora Bridge, walking beside Hwy 99 in terror (sissy that I am) with the abyss to the left of me and speeding traffic to the right. It's a popular suicide spot, so it's a bit of a sobering walk.

I realized today as I was circling the city that my blogwalking discipline has been extremely successful in achieving its desired effect. That is, I started out generally disliking the city and feeling that I needed to escape it in order to feel peace, and now genuinely enjoy living in the urban mess. If you said such things, I guess you could say that I've come to peace with my surroundings. Even on a cold, grey winter day, I was thinking that I really do like it here. Now, if I could just come to peace with the suburbs...

Take me down to Columbia City

It seems that every time I start to feel okay about the US, something else comes up to ruin it. Last night I found out about the "Medicare Donut", which refers to the hole in the middle of Medicare coverage. That is, when Medicare expenses during a year exceed $3600 (or something like that), suddenly you're no longer covered and have to pay all of your medical expenses out of pocket until your own personal costs reach $2300 (or something like that). After that, you're covered again. Of course, if you don't have that money (which you very well may not, seeing as how you're on Medicare), well, you're screwed, and I hope you enjoyed being healthy and pain free during the first half of your year, because you won't get to experience that again until next year--unless you die, and there's a heaven. This situation came up last night for a diabetic friend (who also has AIDS) when she went to pick up an insulin prescription, and the cost was unexpectedly 10x what she normally pays. Happy Halloween! Insulin, as you may know, is not an optional or cheap medication, but luckily a friend (also disabled, on Medicare, and unable to get medical treatment) was able to cover her costs for the next 6 weeks, but then what? Which makes me ask once again, what the Hell is wrong with us?!

In that spirit, today I decided to take a walk through some of Seattle's least gentrified neighborhoods, among it's Medicare and Medicaid recipients, ending in Columbia City. My path took me through the Central District, along the edges of the International District, through the Rainier Valley, and finally into Columbia City.

Quite an interesting walk, actually, which reinforced my feelings of ambivalence to my country of origin. The Central District is actually technically where we live, I think, but begins culturally a few blocks down the road from us. It's the historically African-American part of town, and generally working class. It's slowly gentrifying, and the buildings are an interesting mix of new condo developments, old houses, shiny new chain restaurants, and old neighborhood stores. In one place, there was an Audi SUV parked in a set of new townhomes across the street from the dilapidated and anachronistically named "Afro-mart", from which loud music was blaring. Seattle's worlds are colliding. The most memorable part of my walk through my neighborhood was that a group of teenage boys (no school today for most of Seattle for some reason) yelled at me to "Get the f*** out, White Boy!". I did, slowly, at a walking pace. I hope they're happy.

After that I walked through the Eritrean and Ethiopian section of the International District, which I had heretofore never seen. Once again, walking gives you perspective on things, and this walk helped me to realize the scope of the African community in Seattle, which is surprisingly large. When I think of the ID, I think of Seattle's large Asian population and Chinatown, but I was mostly surrounded by Africans for almost the whole of my 5 mile walk to Columbia City--Ethiopians, Eritreans, and Somalis notably, judging by the names of restaurants and community centers. I would guess that that community is at least as large as the hipster Capitol Hill community, of which I am of course an integral part.

A picture of Seattle's art deco VA Hospital, on top of Beacon Hill, on the west side of the Rainier Valley

The name "Rainier Valley" evokes a sort of beauty that's not reflected in the actual neighborhood (although there is a great view of Mt. Rainier on clear days from many locations). It's mostly a typical American strip mall street--McDonalds, Starbucks, Lowe's, Safeway, KFC, Starbucks, McDonalds, Lowe's, plastic grocery bag filled with puke, Safeway, Tully's, bus stop, Burger King, Starbucks, etc. There's also the real American Dream though, because it's miles and miles of Africans, African-Americans, hispanics, whites, Asians, middle-easterners, immigrants, locals, Italians, money grubbing developers, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Sikhs, old people, and so forth. I have to admit that that is the America that I'm proud to be a part of. From what I can tell, we are the world's best example of the blending of cultures. Every country has that to some extent, but it's something for which we strive and take pride in. It can be a huge mess and pretty ugly, like our country as a whole, but it's the result of America's noble attempt to affirm the humanity of all and provide a home for all comers. That's changed significantly post-911, and I think that's a real tragedy. The terrorists truly are winning, though I don't think they're accomplishing what they set out to do.

Columbia City is really an extension of all this. It used to be a distinct town, I believe, but Seattle has grown into it. It's still a nice little neighborhood populated by all sorts of people, apparently. I didn't stick around long, because a bus came at a fortuitous time, and I was ready to be done walking anyway. On the bus back I sat in front of a couple of teenage girls, talking the whole way about doing Ice, Coke and Marijuana, sleeping with boys and disobeying their parents. An appropriate way to end my walk.

My Walk in the Woods

I just finished, appropriately, Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods", which is about his attempt to walk the 2000 mile Appalachian Trail, and which I'd heartily recommend as a very likable book by any measure. As I was reading it, I realized an interesting fact (at least to me): that several friends and I actually started the trail at about the same time as he did, in Spring of 1996. He and his fat, middle-aged friend made it much, much further than I and my two young spry friends did, but we weren't really trying.

We'd planned a spring break trip to walk about 100 miles of the trail in Smoky Mountain National Park, which is one of the nicest sections. We got to Tennessee following record low temperatures, with snow still on the ground, and walked about 14 miles on our first day to the highest point in the Smokies, Klingman's Dome (sp?). We were cold and exhausted, so midway through the walk (after 7 miles of continuous uphill) we shared a meal of dry spaghetti and protein powder which we cooked in the restroom. No one else was there, because it was cold, the road was closed, and it's stupid to walk up 11 miles of hill to go to the bathroom. After that we stumbled the rest of the way to our shelter in the dark, snacking on dry oatmeal and cheese blocks that we carried in our pockets, and waking up the prudent campers who had arrived during daylight and gone to bed.

For some reason, the next day both of my friends woke up deathly ill. I was fine--in fact better than fine, because I was fine and I had plenty of medicine. I of course didn't share it with them, because it was mine. They were actually too sick to continue walking, and it was cold and icy out anyway, so we decided to just sleep that day. Indeed we did--we slept for about 36 hour straight to be exact, with only a 2-3 hour waking "nap" in the middle. The next morning we agreed that it would be a better idea to get the hell out of the hills than to suffer on. We'd busted our overly ambitious itinerary at that point anyway. There was a big ice storm that day, so we put on our waterproof stuff (I had a green full-body suit that I bought at Target, which was made of thick plastic. A week after the trip I found the remains of a cheese block in the pocket of the pants) and trudged out. I left my friends behind and made it back to the bathroom fairly quickly, finding out that the road had fortuitously been opened in the two days that we were in the woods. Once my sick friends rolled out of the woods, we hitchhiked down the hill (my only hitchhiking experience, actually), catching a ride in the back of some Tennesseeans pick up truck.

We hadn't planned well, and we only had about 80 dollars between us for food, gas and lodging. I paid for a cheap hotel ($36) in Gatlinburg and we found the nearest buffet, gorging ourselves like we'd been in the woods for weeks ($25). Then, since the only shoes I'd brought were soaked in the rain, I bought some white Panama Jack shoes ($10) from Wal-Mart. The next day we hung out in town, gawking at Hillbilly Golf Courses and the Redneck Hall of Fame. Then, hungry and assessing our financial situation, we realized that we didn't have enough money to both stay another night and pay for gas home, so at about 8 o'clock we decided we'd better head home. It was late, we were tired, and it was a long drive, so when both of my (drivers licensed) friends started to nod off, I (not drivers licenced) volunteered to drive for a while. They agreed, and both fell asleep immediately. They woke up to the sounds of rumble strips on the side of the road more than once, so they made me stop driving. Not having money for even the rattiest hotel, we decided to spend an uncomfortable night in a Wendy's parking lot. The next day we made it back to Ohio.

That's my story of hiking the Appalachian Trail. I like to hike.

Another Blog about Walking

Well, I'm just back from my most recent Blog Camino. This time I trailed Angel to Seattle's Fabulous U-District and the University of Washington. Here I am, ready to buck the system, reflect on God, the meaning of life, and things important:

I started out today under the grey light of a just-arrived Seattle Autumn, and I was predictably depressed and tired since it was 9 am. I didn't feel like walking, and I decided that I was going to avoid natural beauty that might perk me up and defeat the purpose of an "urban camino". I took a few bleak photos to illustrate my inner bleakness:

The first is a depressing image of yet another Seattle Dirt Park, located predictably in the Central District, the historically African American working class are in the city proper. The second image is grey view of Bellevue, and the third is an ominous photo of a nondescript street view that reminded me of a corrupted Great Smoky Mountains on this particular dusky morn.

Hope was soon to arrive though, as I got into the rhythm of the walk and Ron Paul and some random Evangelists helped me to remember once again that all is not lost:

(I'm glad to see that Seattle youth are finally rallying for something worthwhile, rather than the usual sex and dope rallies that they hold here in the devil's city. I'm anxious to see if either Mr. Paul or our youth will be able to overcome the odds and bring Hope back to the land of the American Dream.)

In fact, I soon began to once again see the humor in our human situation: Watch your cats!

I have to say that I love this, and I'm rooting for the coyotes as these vigilantes of nature clean up our streets and reclaim their rightful territory.

Once I started to perk up, my walk went relatively quickly, and within an hour I was crossing the canal splitting the Montlake neighborhood from the U-District.

On my way across, I noticed this spraypainted sign.

I'm not sure where it came from, but it made me think of pleasant days strolling past the mighty river Leith in Dunedin on my way to the other great waterside university of my past, Otago.

On the way up the path to the U-Dub, I noticed this curious sign, in the middle of a relative nowhere:

In Washington, you have to be at least 25 feet from a building entrance to legally smoke. Smokers, naturally, hate this completely impractical law. Not being a smoker, I'm indifferent, but I do have to sympathise with the plight of those students who have to walk a quarter mile across campus to get their fix and put their butts in a pointy thing.

I learned recently that this University of Washington site was originally designed and landscaped by one of the Olmstead family, who designed many of America's great park systems. This particular fountain was built as part of the location for an exposition on the Pacific Northwest and Alaska in the early 20th century. Directly behind me, in clear skies there's an excellent view of Mt. Rainier. Today wasn't clear, so you couldn't see anything. That's why I didn't take a picture from the other side.

Here's yet another homage to Communist Russia--the library in U-Dub's "Red Square". After last week's visit to Fremont's Lenin Statue, and recently learning that Seattle used to have one of the largest Communist enclaves in the US, I've begun to think that we might need another McCarthy to keep those LaRouche people and their ilk from further corrupting Seattle's impressionable youth.

As I was taking these photos, I realized that I probably looked a little bit suspicious, and not a little bit skeezy, lurking around a university campus with my camera. In order to make people more comfortable with my presence, I took to removing the camera from my pocket , looking around nervously, and then snapping a shot before I walked away quickly with my head down. so as not to draw attention to myself.

My walk this week was shorter than last week, because I hopped a bus which stopped fortuitously directly in front of my path. However, I did have a chance to do some reflection, if a bit less seriously than is normal for me. My thought for the week is as follows:

I love university campuses for the same reason that I love Cathedrals--their buildings tend to express something of humanity's highest ambitions. They reflect our pursuit of truth, our hope for the future, and ultimately our need to learn and improve ourselves. The problem in both cases is that when we fill them with people, we inevitably end up with scenes like this:

I've thought for a while that if the Judeo-Christian religions have gotten any theological point right, it's been in the area of anthropology: we are beings created for paradise, but destined for the sewer. Our ambition and potential always seems to exceed our capability. My favorite theologian Jurgen Moltmann has made a career of pointing towards the hope for ultimate redemption in this unfortunate situation, and I have to say that I hope he's on to something.

Capitol Hill to Fremont Camino

Well, I've just returned from this week's Urban Camino (a new term I've come up with, even more pretentious than "urban hike"!) I have to admit that I liked it more than expected. Walking really is the way to travel if you've got the time for it. You really don't get a good spacial conception of an area until you've walked it. It turns out that Fremont isn't actually a half-hour drive away--it's a one hour and fifteen minute walk, and there's a lot that lies between here and there.

I started out at our place on a relatively grey day--like most days in Seattle this time of year, the sky looked mildly threatening, but mostly harmless. I took my raincoat, but didn't use it.



I started out in a bit of a negative mood. I usually do in the morning. The city looked generally dirty and gritty to me--the closest thing to "natural" being these offensive ravens wallowing in construction debris looking for filth to eat and then regurgitate, (or so I assume).

It took me about a half hour to walk to Lake Union though, and by that time I was starting to get into the rhythm of the walk. Walking for me is something of a spiritual discipline, because the rhythm of the movement puts me in a reflective mood. It helps to have an attractive location to walk in, but I was surprised to find that the distraction of the city became a sort of white noise relatively quickly. The first half of my walk passed by quickly.

Within an hour I was crossing the bridge into Fremont--I'd expected it to take about two to get there, so I was surprised. Once again, the city comes into perspective spatially when you walk it. Driving distorts distance.

I found the Troll for the first time since I've been in Seattle. It's under a giant freeway underpass, and is a surprisingly large thing to find there--similar in scale to the Lincoln monument in Washington, if I remember it correctly.

Because I had some extra time (I'd alotted 3 hours for the walk), I looped around to Fremont's mildly terrifying Lenin statue, which they "rescued" from some post-Communist Eastern European country, again, if I remember correctly. Seattle's quirky liberals have really "taken the power" out of Lenin's evil, because they decorate him like a Christmas tree for the holidays. Is this not distasteful?

No real epiphanies today, but I did come across this interesting little bit of preserved railway, turned into a garden in front of a houseboat community.

I've got two versions of Pete Seeger's "John Henry" on my iPod, and couldn't help think here that John Henry's battle was a losing one--ultimately, machine has triumphed over man. Exhibit A--travel is mechanical, to the extent that it feels like cultural rebellion to walk the city on a business day, during rush hour. Walking still feels like the most human way to travel. Not that I'm giving my car up anytime soon.

At the conclusion of my walk, I followed a trail through next year's winner of the "World's Most Unpleasant Park" Award: Seattle's brand new, ill-concieved monument to liberal humanism, the "I-5 Colonnade"!

"Come on kids! Lets go down under the interstate! We can have a picnic (don't forget to brush the syringes off of the table!), and we can let Rover run free in the giant gravel crap-box! Bring your bikes, there's a new trail that swoops dangerously close to some giant concrete pillars!" Not surprisingly, no one else was there. Crowds usually don't show up until 11-12 in the evening. The city is trying to make this place more livable, but really, whose idea was this?

In the end, it was a good experience to begin to walk through the city that I've begun to call home. I still don't feel a strong connection with the place, but it has it's charms. I've always liked dorky quirkiness, and Fremont's pretty much the city's center for that. Capitalism and corporate greed continually smack you in the face as you walk past endless rows of advertisements, but you also see lots of little glimpses of humanity. Seattleites--and particularly Fremontonians--are great about weaving art and nature into the life of the city, so it's hard to forget here that the city can express some of the best of that humanity has to offer along with some of the worst.

Seattle Hiking

Hi Folks,

For the next several months while Angel's working overtime at school, and I'm working overtime to pay the bills, I've realized that we're not going to have much time or money, which means we're not going to have much time to get out of the city to go for hikes. My theme for the youth group this year is "Finding God in the Mess", and in line with that I've decided that for the next few months, as grey and rain descend upon Seattle, I'm going to take up the practice of "Urban Hiking", also known by the less pretentious as walking around the city. I generally find the city to be repulsive and dirty (not Seattle in particular, but the city in general), but I'm going to make an attempt to find beauty and transcendence here. Rather than taking my usual Friday or Saturday jaunts to the park or the mountains, several times a month I'm just going to walk to from home to different neighborhoods in Seattle, and try to provide some photo documentation.

Today, for my first trip, I walked from Capitol Hill to downtown. It wasn't a long hike--about two hours total including a stop at the Central library, which is one of the more interesting libraries I've been to architecturally. (I didn't take any pictures but I have stolen some for your enjoyment):

I can't say that I had any moments of transcendence, but I did have a nice view of Lake Union from 4th avenue on the way from Pike St. to the Library (In this photo background you see the Lake and some people I don't know--I stole it from Flikr. I have a very similar hat and shirt to the guy in the picture, so you can pretend that it is a picture of Angel and I):

After that, I passed several people who asked me for change.

I have to admit that one of the reasons I find the city distasteful is that you're constantly being hassled to give people on the street money. (As a result, it's almost impossible to go on an "Urban Hike" without either spending money at a shop or giving away money to someone panhandling.) When one lives in this sort of environment, the sad thing is that you become accustomed to giving beggars the stiff-arm--you almost have to, b/c you only have so much change, and you only have so much compassion. (Don't get me wrong, I'm not the "get a job, bum" type, and I'm not averse to giving people money on the street from time to time--sure, they might spend it on alcohol or drugs, or they might be better served if I gave the money to an organized charity, but honestly, most of the people I know spend their money on alcohol and drugs, and I wasn't going to give that 50 cents to charity anyway. I was probably going to use it to buy junkfood.) You ultimately are going to distance yourself from the situation, because you can't spend all day dwelling on other people's plight. I used the think that that would be the Christian thing to do, but it really doesn't accomplish anything--sure, work to make things better, but if you don't distance yourself from most individual situations, you're going to have a guilt driven nervous breakdown. I don't know where the epiphany is in there, but I'm pretty sure there's something of a lesson about God's love and our own ultimate limitations in that.

After the panhandlers, I went on to be hassled by another type of beggar, at Bed, Bath and Beyond. I've got some friends who are getting married, and their shower is this afternoon, so I had to pick up a gift. I got a corkscrew and a spoonholder (the same cash could have bought a beggar about 5 meals, or one bottle of really good whiskey, but nevermind).

From there, I hiked back home, up the famous Pike/Pine corridor, past lots of new condo developments and small businesses selling hip and gritty urban home decor. My first excursion being a huge success, I'm hoping next Friday morning to walk from my house to the Fremont troll. That's about a 4 mile hike, so I'll probably bus back. I also might not make it then, b/c next week's busy.