The Heads of Knysna

Hello friends.

I know I promised I wouldn't post on the blog during my travels, but I came across a computer all by itself in the middle of the great Karoo and thought I would type a note just to say that all is well.

Actually, I'm back in Stellenbosch at the moment. Peter and I have been journeying via hired car across the Western Cape, staying in small backpackers hostels in towns such as Swellendam and Buffalo Bay, places removed enough from big city lights to see a staggering array of new stars -- new to my eyes at least. A few nights ago at the Goukamma Nature Reserve, someone pointed out the Southern Cross just above the sand dunes. I was amazed to see this site at last, in part because I have a series of mosquito bites on my left leg in the exact same alignment.

I don't know where to begin with describing my adventures to date, so I'll just give you a few vital stats until I have the wherewithal to post a more detailed travelogue. I am staying at Hillbillies Haven, a house/student commune several blocks from the market square in Stellenbosch. I've been waking up uncharacteristically early, due to the mild weather and the presence of a strange bird who likes to croon outside my window. And the sun rises super early in the morning, so by the time it's 7:30 I feel like I've stayed in bed for hours longer than I'm supposed to.

The town of Stellenbosch is a bustling little student capital, with tree-lined streets, arcades and attractive cafes that remind me a bit of Bonn. It's apparently one of the whiter cities on the continent, but certainly the most diverse place I've ever stayed. I got up early on Saturday to visit the market and was dazzled by the variety of people, especially the different kinds of clothes people wear. Apparently some people mistook my generic H&M rugby jersey for one of the home teams, because I got a pat on the back and thumbs up from a couple folks.

The rest of my time in this region has been spent mostly around Cape Town. The first day we climbed two separate peaks, taking the Skeleton's Gorge trail to the top of cable mountain, and climbing up the Lion's Head at sunset to watch the full moon rise over the city with a few dozen people who had gathered for the occasion. I've been truly enjoying all the hikes and scenery, though I'm certainly not the track star of yesteryear. In fact, I feel a lot more like the heavyset girl on the cross country team who runs a 4K in just under an hour, the one you like to cheer on but privately feel kind of embarassed for. So it's been rough at times, but over the last few days I've grown more adjusted to the African climate, and today I was catching frisbees like I was 22 all over again.

The other challenge has been driving. I've actually gotten the hang of driving on the left side of the road, though it takes a little more alertness than my average zone-out trip along I-70. It's actually much easier to get used to the whole thing as a driver than as a pedestrian. Observing my fellow motorists can also be alarming. When I look at the cars around me, I'm startled to see the driver's seat occupied by a small child, someone who isn't paying any attention to the road, or worse -- noone at all. I've begun to panic a few times before I remember that it isn't actually the driver's side, and everything is at it should be.

Before I ramble any further about my own impressions, I'd best inform you as to the status of my brother Peter, whom many of you have asked about. Truth be told, I hardly recognize my brother any more. He's been studying the Xhosa language, a native dialect which makes use of three separate clicking noises. Even when I manage to persuade him to speak in English, he insists on interspersing his speech with clicks, and the e-mails he's been sending family members consist largely of the word "click" in parentheses, over and over. More alarmingly, the boy has sworn off McDonald's for the entire semester. Those of you who have sweated through many a Shrek Party in the wee hours at the former 4832 Adams with a Mickey D's feast at stake can be sure this is not the Pedro we used to know.

Actually, Peter is doing just fine, having finished up his studies and his volunteering at the Kayamandi township just outside of town. He's been a great guide and I've learned quite a bit about South Africa from Peter and his friends.

A few more lines before I head out to remedy my sunburn with a blend of chilled South African white wines:

I've greatly enjoyed my stay in this country, though of course I'm just getting only a tiny taste of Africa, touching the tip of the continent figuratively as well as literally. Still, it's been an exciting first week. I've been through a great variety of scenery in a short time, including a few roads no Nissan was ever meant to tread. I've been lucky enough to see a bunch of different animals and sample a dozen different wines, and most importantly, I visited a place called Monkeyland. Look for photos of that experience at a later date.

The next few days I'll be mostly in Cape Town, with a stopover on the beach if the weather's right. Looks like I've got a few postcards to write, so thanks to everyone who has sent their address. I've been thinking a lot of my friends in the States, Europe and elsewhere, and talking to people around the campfire at various Backpackers Lodges has reminded me how much of the world there is still to see.

More about babboons, ghost ships, race wars, hubbly-bubblies, and other assorted topics when I get back to native soil.

until soon,

LDHW

Africa

I'm leaving tomorrow for South Africa. Although I always enjoy being in Kansas City over this holiday and seeing old friends, I think it will be fun to have Thanksgiving leftovers with the baboons. Although I guess technically I'm not supposed to feed them.

My brother Peter (pictured above) has been studying in Stellenbosch, just a short drive from Cape Town, since this summer. Pete's been studying at the University there and doing some volunteer work at an after-school program in a nearby village. We're going to rent a car, drive around the Western Cape and check out some beaches, hikes, wineries and whatever interesting sites we come across.

I'll do my best to post a few updates of my travels here, but I probably won't be blogging much for the next couple of weeks. When I travel I tend to ignore the Internet and concentrate on keeping a good, old-fashioned notebook. I'll tell you what, though. If you send me your address, I'll be happy to send you a postcard.

For now, take care and I'll see you in December.

Love,

LDHW

Pookie's Thanksgiving Special

I cover a lot of different subjects on this here site, but one area I've yet to delve into is the culinary arts. That all changes today with the unveiling of a rather unorthodox recipe -- just in time for Thanksgiving.

Some of you may remember being kids and playing with your great-grandmother's set of Russian Matryoshka dolls, the kind where a large one opens to reveal a smaller doll, then a smaller one, until all you've got is a little bitty doll in the center that doesn't open. (I know it sounds like I've already strayed from my declared subject matter, but hear me out.)

Well have you ever thought about applying that to cooking poultry? Fortunately, one young man has, and thanks to his bold innovation in the kitchen, the world (or at least a lucky sect of fine-dining Kansas Citians), has come to know the delights of the Turgooponducheasanishuail.

The Turgooponducheasanishuail is a creation of one Pookie Thornhill, and involves no less than eight (8) birds in one holiday recipe. I'll tell you a bit more about the chef in a moment, but now that I've piqued your interest, allow me to dive into the basic elements of the recipe. To quote sir Thornhill:

"The Turgooponducheasanishuail consists of a quail, inside a cornish game hen, inside a pheasant, nestled within a chicken, enveloped by a duck, which is encapsulated by a capon, which is so lovingly caressed with in the bosom of a goose, which is all closed up safe and sound within a turkey."

Pookie says the entire bird(s) totals 60 pounds of meat, and is cooked for 10 hours after being brined for 18 hours the day before. For the finer points of cooking a Turgooponducheasanishuail, I'm sure Pookie would be more than happy to share -- for the right price, of course.

A bit more about the chef: Christened Peter Thornhill in the early '80s, "Pookie" is a founder of the culinary club at the University of Kansas, where he received his bachelor's degree. Those who have witnessed and tasted his hearty frankenfowl have referred to Mr. Thornhill as a quack doctor, but only because the man has all but earned a PhD in braising duck. A chef, charmer and a dark horse competitor in company picnic limbo competitions, Pookie currently works in the food industry in Kansas City, Missouri.

It is not known if Pookie will try to trump the largest nested bird on record, the 17-bird bustergophechiduckneaealcockidgeoverwingailusharkolanbler of 19th-century aristocratic France, but those of us who know Pookie expect great things from him in the future. Whether your T-day bird has 2 legs or 16, I would like to wish you all a happy Thanksgiving.

And don't forget to leave room for desert.

Pocket-Sized Pieces + Poems

A couple of weeks ago, mixed-media artist and good friend Liz Gardner debuted the first eight months of her Pocket-Sized Pieces series at the Hobbs Building open studios event. Basically, Liz is creating a small piece of artwork (roughly 3x3 inches, give or take) for every single day of this year, using thread, watercolors, ink, clear plastic, scraps of magazines and a variety of other materials.

While scanning in her pieces over the summer, I began writing accompanying poems in haiku form (technically, many of them should be called senryū) inspired directly or indirectly by each of her pocket-sized pieces, or PSPs. The poems are not intended to tie the PSPs to any specific interpretation, but rather to present some of the countless ways in which each piece can be considered.

The following is a sampling of PSPs from February, March and April and their accompanying poems. The goal is to put some kind of book or calendar together once they are all complete, in addition to an exhibit. If you like what you see here, be sure to check Liz's Web site to see some more examples of her art and keep up on upcoming events. Enjoy!

(Click on each piece to enlarge)

4/4

the rarest of birds
emerges through a red shroud
silently cooing

4/30

a golden collar
for the kitten with green eyes
and nine hundred lives

4/28

drink carafes of wine
find peace at the piazza
lazy Firenze

4/26

the heart of a dog
is easier to read than
the heart of a man

4/25

angry lover leaves
his laundry basket behind
on Liberty street

4/10

home appliances
forging dark alliances
in my new kitchen

4/12

social networking
interconnected lines show
just how I know you

4/1

vaginal machines
drones bearing pheromones in
service of the queen

3/9

glaciers on the go
projected trajectories
away from the poles

3/8

am Kurfürstendamm
returning from KDW
Kaufhaus des Westens

3/7

composition marked
by a lack of violins
but she still hears them

3/28

attention shoppers:
The Great Shopping Cart Face-Off
is about to start

3/26

escaped from the farm
a sentimental rooster
remembers childhood

3/22

following the flag
undaunted until you fall
off a precipice

3/19

rainbow rivulets
racing to the finish line
to snap the ribbon

3/18

ladies of the night
make a different kind of call
by the light of day

3/15

Earth's out of orbit
all the people in China
jumped at the same time

3/12

spin straw into gold
tell your secrets to no one
but the campfire

3/10

Cinderella team
searches for the right fit for
the silver sneaker

2/26

fair for the veggies
celebration of being
fare for the veggies

2/19

a square of lace torn
from the scrapbook of your past
life as a cherub

2/4

dismembered mallard
Nintendo's not innocent
for Duck Hunt victims

2/13

bloody sea serpent
what did you eat for breakfast?
anyone I knew?

2/15

your heart-shaped glasses
tinted windows to the soul
of a hot summer

2/20

seashells behind glass
tiny turrets, sea torches
on the diamond shores

2/2

swallow a snow globe
then get an X-Ray taken
it will look like this

2/28

mating rituals
between super guys and girls
involve lightning bolts

2/22

echolocations
leading to baroque caverns
black and red flowers

more information, videos and PSPs from January at www.lizgardner.com

Falling leaves and broken glass

So I found out what happened to my car window. It done got shot.

My neighbor Blue said she woke up at about 3:15 Saturday morning after hearing eight gunshots and looked outside to see police cars driving every which way. I wasn't sure the broken car window was related, but after the auto-glass folks pointed out a thumb-sized bullethole in the steel of the back hatch, it was pretty clear what happened. "This weren't no small bullet, either," they added.

I'm not sure how this makes me feel. On one hand, I feel bad about my car having been shot twice in less than a year. On the other hand, it's as if my minivan has unintentionally earned the street cred I've always lacked as a white suburbanite. Now I can drive around and listen to songs like this one by Ghostface Killah without worrying about being accused of doing so ironically. Nevermind the JoCo plates, my minivan has survived more slugs than 50 cent.

Speaking of Ghostface, while Jon and I listened to the skits on "Fishscale" this weekend, we were wondering what would happen if indie-rock bands tried to include on their albums the kinds of skits that are so prevalent on rap records. What would they be about? Would anyone take them seriously? It's not an easy question, but as always, you're free to discuss the matter in the comments section.

Rather than end on a violent note, I'd like to include a pair of November portraits:


This shot was taken by Megan after I purchased a bunch of glow things for 50 cents a pop at the CVS post-Halloween sale. By the way, have any of you ever been brave enough to break open a glow stick? I've always wanted to, but have been mortally afraid of doing so, to this day. However, I did hear that if you take shots of the glow-juice, your guts will light up, so that could be worth looking into.


I took this portrait of mystery leaf lady while walking through the woods of Weston Bend State Park, which is well worth a visit this time of year.

And while I'm sharing rap songs, I might as well include my favorite track by Outkast, 13th Floor/Growing Old. I thought about quoting the song's seasonally relevant lyrics here, but it's much more fun just to listen to.

Oh, and I didn't mean to suggest by the top photo that it was SuperArgo or Travis who shot out my car window. I just found the picture Jenn took of them at the old shooting gallery behind Blue Collar Press and thought it would fit the post nicely.

Take care.

To Galesburg...and back

I woke up on Saturday to find my back car windshield had been shattered the night before. As you might have noted from my last post, I was planning to drive to Illinois to visit brother James. Rather than let this latest act of mini-vandalism stand in my way, I duct-taped a shower curtain to the back of the car and drove there anyway. It's a little something I learned while working on my cousin's paint crew: how to implement solutions to problem areas.


The van drove fine, but as this photo demonstrates, the light of the sunlight through the semi-opaque makeshift window made it look as if we were high-tailing our way away from some kind of nuclear winter. As the space mask on the back seat indicates, I am fully prepared for such circumstances.

I've lived in Midtown long enough not to take petty vandalism personally, but I had to wonder what the motivation was. The last time my car window was broken it was at least under amusing circumstances. Some art kids, including a girl wearing bright pink hot-pants and a Russian fur hat, shot out the window with a bb-gun. They admitted it, apologized and helped pay for the thing.

This time, it seemed like blind violence -- at least until I remembered the sticker that's graced the lower left corner of the windshield for the past two years.


Now that I think about it, the kid does look like he's been kidnapped, and it only makes sense that some good-hearted drunk was doing his best to free the child from the suffocating clutter of my trunk. Bless his heart. I can hardly blame him.


So I'm getting the car fixed tomorrow, but I'm also considering alternate rides. Like a horse. Based on all the photographs I've seen of Kansas City in its boomtown days, horses were a vital part of having a vibrant downtown area. So if this whole downtown renaissance is really going to take place, we're in serious need of some steeds and people to ride them. And it would be really nice to ride a horse around town -- even kind of romantic. Though it probably wouldn't be so much fun for the horse.

On the way to Galesburg, John and I stopped in Lucas, Iowa to check out a few other alternate sources of transportation.

A motorsickle:


And a spaceship belonging to some non-specific nation states:

Our time in Galesburg was pretty fantastic. We fulfilled our mission of filming that night's performance by Ree-Yees, which blew both my mind and my right eardrum. I won't even try to describe it here, but once Jon's had some time to upload and play with the footage, I'll be sure to share it with you. Suffice it to say that Ree-Yees really kills it.

Little trivia question for you all: why is Ree-Yees (the character) named Ree-Yees? First person to comment with the right answer gets a free taco, in person or by mail.


We spent the rest of our time in Galesburg throwing the frisbee into some hedges, walking around town and eating at local hotspots The Gizmo and The Landmark, renowned for their value and their tastiness, respectively. We also stopped in the One Stop Smokers Shop, a cigarette store where you can buy booze, cigarettes and play deer-hunter. It really lives up to its name.

Later we visited the campus library of Knox College, a beautiful old building that houses some rare books, some really nice aristocratic-looking rooms and an abacus. The last time I was in Galesburg I spent a few hours leafing through books, but this time all we did was watch the Crank That Soulja Barney video, which I'm sure all those kids studying for finals really appreciated.

Knox College, by the way, has a pretty impressive history of public speaking. In addition to hosting one of the Lincoln-Douglas debates, the last three commencement speakers have been, in order, Barack Obama, Stephen Colbert and Bill Clinton.


The only problem with our ramblings through Galesburg was the unwanted attention we received from the local fuzz. After our walk through town on Sunday, a stern-looking officer got out of his car and asked Jon, "Any particular reason while you're walking all over town taking a crapload of pictures?" (he actually said crapload).

He said a female employee of the city had seen us taking pictures near the squad cars and sounded the alarm bell. We explained that photography is just a hobby and that we had no terroristic designs on the town, but it wasn't until he looked through our snapshots that he said what we had was fine. The whole thing reminded me of the mantra of new-wave poet/drummer Sun Moriarty:

"What we do. You and I. See something. Say something."


On the way home, Jon and I capped off the journey with the bangin' buffet at the Toot-Toot Family Diner in Bethany, Missouri.


If you'd like to see the complete set of photos Jon took during the trip, head on over to his flickr. Thanks to James, Eric and Alejandro for showing us a good time, and thank you for reading.


all photos in the post by Jon Allen, except for the one of olde Walnut Street

Road Trip

I'm driving to Galesburg, Illinois tomorrow with Jon to film a performance by Ree-Yees, the noise-rock duo that features my youngest brother, James, and his friend Eric. They're playing at some place called the P House, whatever that is. Eric was just featured in the Galesburg Register-Mail for his habit of setting up his drums in a field by the highway and banging on them with abandon. You can -- and should -- read that story here.


It will be a bit of a drive to west-central Illinois, but it's a nice time of year. If anyone wants to come along, just give me a call. We leave at the crack of dawn.

Photo credits: top photo is by me; photo of Eric by Bill Gaither. It pains me how small it is, but it's the best we got until tomorrow.

New Ghosty Video

New video for Ghosty's "I Can't Be Stopped" by Vamos.

Site-seeing

It's cold in Kansas City, and I'm washing down the temperature change with a nice bottle of economically priced port wine. It tastes a bit like cough syrup, but it goes down slowly and smoothly, so I can't complain.

As mentioned earlier, I'm sitting out from blogging activities for a few days, but that doesn't mean I can't recommend a few sites to visit for those with a few minutes and an eye for the original.

First of all, as far as comic blogs go, you can't do much better than Richard's Poor Almanac, maintained by Washington Post cartoonist Richard Thompson. Richard's daily comic, Cul de Sac, is one of the best reads in the paper today. You can read todays' Cul de Sac here, and find some additional comics and musings on his new blog, www.richardspooralmanac.blogspot.com. I got to join Richard and some of my co-workers for dinner last month, and he was kind enough to leave me what was left of his kung-pao chicken, which I devoured several hours later at 3:30 a.m.

Another worthwhile site featuring an entirely different set of sketches is "Pope-by-Pope," a daily sketch experiment carried out by Web designer/old roommate of mine, Matt Kirkland, in which he actually sketched every one of the past 265 Popes. Since the Popes date back to the time of St. Peter, Matt had to base his sketches on a variety of sources, including stained glass portraits and even mosaics. When we lived together, Matt was always building shelving units made out of giant plastic water jugs and scooters made of scrap metal, so it doesn't surprise me that he's taking on unusual subjects in his art. He also has a schnazzy site at www.mattkirkland.com, and does some freelance Web and industrial design. Matt is currently sketching all the U.S. presidents.


I've linked to a few artists lately, and I thought I'd close out my post today with a link to LittlePaperAirplanes.com, an online store and gallery featuring the prints, shirts, postcards and booklets from a variety of incredibly talented young artists. Little Paper Airplanes is based in Los Angeles and run by Silver Lake artist Kelly Lynn Jones, who I met at this year's comic con. Little Paper Airplanes is lots of fun.