Thursday, February 3, 2011

Revolts, Freezes, and a Cup a Joe

I was being elevated up high into the sky by a fork lift towering over the dusty orange of daybreak in a  stark desert tented encampment by my Paris friend and now forklift operator, Lisa Wines shouting at me to imitate a Muslim call to prayer so our peacekeeping forces could get a sense of how to react within the morning hours of Cairo. I tried calling out my best chant but I couldn't get the volume right...then the phone rang and I jumped from bed, bouncing like a pinball off the furniture following the ring tone and once again not answering it on time. Half in Egypt and half slumped over the foot board of my bed, I pressed call back to hear Sharon in Bisbee telling me all her pipes were frozen (this was not a personal problem) while I was still trying to sort out why I had a lingering desire to chant. With cell phone in one hand and hooking a coat sleeve with the other all the time dragging one foot in front of the other from bedroom to the kitchen, I reached for our faucet to brag to caller number one that I had water for coffee but soon I discovered my water petered out to a dribble. What! I'm in Phoenix...we can't have frozen pipes...this is why we suffer the wrath of hell for five months year after year never to have frozen pipes! Thoroughly pissed and now fully awake I inspected the entire plumbing network of our house. Oh by the way...Good Morning!

I was lifted high above the Egyptian desert trying to chant
 The unrest in Cairo has me hooked. The dismantling of another regime parallels the changes in our climate and the diluting of our cultures into a homogenized lumpy stew. The world is changing and now we can follow it minute by minute even though the dastardly rulers attempt to "blackout" all communications. With the naive cultures being eroded by thieving political legacies and global corporate giants with voracious cheap labor appetites , I get anxious to seek them out before they disappear like melting glaciers. I've been fortunate to experience what it was like to be in the Soviet Union in 1972 at the height of the cold war or the exuberance of the people gaining their independence on the Caribbean island of Dominica. Whether it's gunfire in the streets of Arequipa, Peru or over turned vehicles lit afire in Rocky Point, Mexico, the passion of a united people is intoxicating and if you've never been in the thick of it well...maybe you're lucky. Me, it gets my juices going. Please don't mistake me for a thrill seeker trolling for dangerous moments. I innocently wonder into these situations not knowing what's normal so I always default to the "when in Rome" credo. Soon, Sharon and I may have the opportunity to experience a new government or a repressed society in Egypt when we arrive in Cairo at the end of May or we may have to peer out the window of our plane as we pass over Giza on our way to Kenya. Anticipation is like the third cup of coffee in the morning.


  1. If you consult Carl Jung (because I'm sure you do, regularly), he'd probably ask you, "What does Lisa Wines symbolize to you?" Or, "What part of you does she represent?" And the Muslim call to prayer is a great image. So is being high in the sky on a forklift. RICH STUFF Curt! I just finished reading all your posts and I love your writing. I can hear your voice and sense of humor as I read.

    Now, if you'd just get a bloody Facebook/Twitter account or set up an email subscription ( - ask Meme - she'll help ya), then I (and your burgeoning fan club) can follow you and not miss one post. I have a feeling this odyssey will be amazing and can't wait to read as you go. I hope you'll make Paris a stop along the way.

    Love you. Miss you.

  2. I am now in your electronic saddlebags....thinking of
    you both!