April Mission: World Book Night giveaway at The Bridge

Matt: World Book Night was sort of… magical. I know that sounds lame but honestly for the first time I understood what people mean when they say that books are magic. We were at a free-meal cafeteria full of hungry, homeless people, and our table full of books was much more intriguing to them than the food line.  I was a bit skeptical and maybe even cynical at first. What were these homeless people going to do with books? I guess I thought that for someone who doesn’t have a lot, what difference is a book going to make? Why would they care about getting something that has no possibility of improving their situation?

Chris: Magical is a good way to explain it. So many things I didn't expect. I take a group to The Bridge cafeteria, a non-profit soup kitchen for the economically depressed in downtown St. Louis, once a month on the third Wednesday. It's a great place to serve, but it is work. I was expecting this night to feel like work. I was also expecting to watch hungry people behave the same around books that they do around food: a few thankful people, but mostly tired, care-worn stares.

Matt: I see now that was pretty short-sighted. I mean let’s face it, people like to get stuff. I think it was more than that though. Most of the people that walked by our table not only wanted one of the books, they wanted to know what it was about! Most of the night was actually spent vaguely explaining the plot to each visitor (none of us had read all three). And people listened to every detail. They made decisions based on what we told them. 

Chris: Their excitement was palpable. The place was transformed during those conversations. It was a dark cave still, but a light shone out of their eyes. Was it a thirst for knowledge? Thirst for 'something else'? Thirst for a connection to us, or the author, or for a peak out of their situations into a wider world of hope? The words of Henry Ward Beecher rung deep within me during those moments: "Books are the windows through which the soul looks out." 

Matt: Many of them became excited about the prospect of winning one of these books. As they walked to their seats, their longing gaze could be clearly interpreted: they were going to find a sticker! I think the whole night was a success. We lived up to the expectations of World Book Night by getting books to people who probably don’t read all that much. And we exceeded the expectations by getting them excited in the books. Not having enough to give to everyone made our books special prizes. 

Chris: Because we only had 60 books (20 of each bestselling title: The Book Thief, A Prayer For Own Meany, and Blood Work) for 200 people, we talked to the directors of the Bridge and came up with a plan to make it a game. We brought 250 pieces of candy and small packs of gum, placed a winning sticker on 60 of them, and handed them out to guests as they passed through the food line. Only about 20 stickers were claimed, and the rest of the books were given out to anyone who came to the table and wanted one. 

Matt: These people were accustomed to being treated the same as everyone else who came to the cafeteria. Each person gets the same portions, the same meal on their tray. We made quite a few people feel like they were getting something special, something that not everyone got that night. Sure there were a bunch that didn’t get anything, but since people shared stickers and books, I think just about everyone who really wanted a book got one. It felt pretty cool being a Book Giver. I felt really generous and was happy to see the appreciation on everyone’s faces, even though the books were not mine and didn’t cost anything. Overall, it was a great experience and I am officially a fan of World Book Night. 

Geocaching pics

Pictures from Geocaching!

Latest update about the geocache we hid:

We finally got permission from Ellisville to hide a cache in Bluebird Park. Next thing we knew there was a problem, as indicated by a frustrated note on geocaching.com by a fellow geocacher:

Log Date: 4/13/2012
Found it, but theres SOOO many things about this that are completely against geocaching rules. Im requesting it be archived immediately and the contents removed from the location. Let me list the problems with this:

1. Its hidden literally ON TOP of the final for Bluebird Triangle, the best cache in the park. (which that alone should have been a red flag for the reviewer since caches must have a buffer zone of 528ft/0.1 miles from other caches)
2. Its not really a container, just a plastic bag filled with candy (which sooner or later will cause animals to eat the cache).
3. Theres no logbook, just a note from the cache owner that says "you dont know me!" which made me think this was cache was a joke but looking at the hint and looking around I realised this was the actual cache.

Thanks for your understanding, I'm just stating the facts. It needs to be removed from the website and the park, before other cachers get cheated out of the fun of Bluebird Triangle and before deer eat the Mike and Ikes in the cache.

The reviewer "Mongo" responded:

Log Date: 4/13/2012
Bluebird Triangle GC4E60 is a very old multi cache and there is no final on file for this cache. With no final there was no test to run against the cache to see that it was too close.

Mongo is sure the owner will see your note and will run out and place a nice container and a logbook. They are new to caching and it would have been nice to help someone out instead of "hammering them".

This cache was held up for a period of time while the owner sought and received the proper permission from the parks department.

As far as Mongo knows from the information received as is well with this cache at its present location.

Cache owner, we need a real container and a logbook. Mongo is sure you read the Guidelines and may have not understood this when you went over them.

Food in a baggie will not last and Mongo hopes that this cache will last a long time.

I responded: 

Log Date: 4/13/2012
I will check on the cache tomorrow. It was in a small Tupperware container clearly labeled "geocache" with a log book and small toys. No candy, no enigmatic note. It might have been tampered with and/ or replaced. Hopefully this is just a mistake and the geocache is still there intact. Standby.

Warlock rejoined:

Log Date: 4/13/2012
Hammering? I call it how I see it. Sorry if posted coords lead STRAIGHT TO A MULTI FINAL but I stand firmly on what I have said. If you break the laws, you are charged in real life. It doesn't matter how ignorant to the statutes of law the offender is. Placing a geocache requires a certain amount of responsibility, regardless of if the owner has 6 finds (in this case) or 60000. You can't just place the final coords to (in my opinion) one of the top multistage caches in the area and claim it as your own. I know many will agree with me on this. If my approach is unorthodox than there's nothing I can do for you. I'd be happy to show a new cacher how to properly place caches in conjunction with how the rules are laid out, but (as another supporting and experienced member of the local geocommunity said in an email sent to me tonight on this subject) if my great multi that this cache compromises was involved and gets miffed requiring archival, I'd be very upset. I am not trying to bully new cachers, and I would never deter anyone from the hobby, but this is the first time I have ever seen a situation like this and after reading several reviewer rules and cache requirement articles the opinion I have is that it's wrong. 
-WARLOCK-

To which I replied:

Log Date: 4/13/2012

Way to freak out Warlock. Breathe. Take a tums. 

Look, Mongo, or whoever is reviewing this log, if geocachers are going to have a panic attack when they find out that this cache is relatively close to another (I can assure you it isn't 'on top' of it, or it wasn't when I placed it), then I will move it. I don't want to cause waves, or reflux. However, if the good people at geocaching.com don't mind an easy cache being relatively close to a final cache that not everyone finds, then I don't mind either. 

As I said before, I will check on the cache as soon as I get a chance to make sure it hasn't been tampered with. I'll remind you, what Warlock found is NOT what I placed. It remains to be seen if he looking in the right place or not. I hope this is a case of "the mistaken Warlock."

Hey, in the end, it's just a game of hide-and-seek for grown-ups. Don't want to spoil the fun.

I finally checked on the cache in the park the next day, and found it removed. I was honestly a bit relieved that I could put this hilarious adventure behind me. archived the cache (deleted it) with the following commment:

Log Date: 4/14/2012
It looks like someone has tampered with the cache. Replaced it altogether with trash. Since this appears to be the same coordinates as a final cache for the Bluebird Triangle, I am not replacing my cache and will be removing the Different Outlook cache altogether.

Hey, it's all part of the adventure, right? Makes me laugh just thinking about it. Seinfeld would have paid big money to make this an episode!!

February Mission: Couch Photos

Our February mission was taking an old couch around town and taking pictures with it. Yup. That's it. But, hey, it was no easy task. We remember the words of Jesus over 2,000 ago to a sick man on his portable sofa, "Pick up your couch and walk." (Close enough.) We still think it's a good idea. An old couch is a lazy man's best friend...the least we can do is take it with us to see what it has been missing all those years in front of the electric rot-box. For details of our day's adventure, see Matt's post below, 'We called her Ol' Blue.'

We Called Her Ol’ Blue

She wasn’t a pretty thing. She probably grew up in some old cottage or ranch-style house. Her housemates, though old-fashioned and probably just old, had cared for her and spent many special evenings sitting and talking. She had a sturdy build but was light on her feet. Her body was soft, some would say comfortable, and her skirt modest. She was ugly, but attractively cheap, and for a haggled-over price of $15, she was ours for the night.

We took her to a few different spots, with the intention of getting our picture taken together around town, to somehow prove that were not all couch potatoes. The idea was a good one and for the most part we were true to its purpose. To accomplish it we would pull up to a prospective locale, carry her from the van to a spot with the best view, and set up our cameras. Putting her in the best possible light and angle, we would then sit with her as the cameras did their jobs. Then quickly, leaving the cameras in place, we would jump up and take her back to the van, stuffing her in and closing the hatch before anyone could see. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to be seen with her, we mostly just didn’t want to have to answer embarrassing questions.

Once we asked a store owner if we could pose with her in front of their establishment, only to be turned down. After that we decided it was better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. Another time we trespassed into an old graveyard, to lay her down by some crumbling headstones. She got her feet wet, on the swampy bank of a small but picturesque pond; and she sat crookedly at another place, on a pile of old bricks and mortar. At a pedestrian overpass we started to notice her weight, when we carried her some two-hundred yards to a spot over the highway, from a nearby Jack-in-the-Box parking lot. We weren’t terribly happy with the spots we ended up picking for the pictures, but what was important was that we were out of our houses and spending time with her.

At the end of the night we took her back home. We laid her down gently not far from where we first saw her, and we took one last picture to cap off the night. Some people stared, and odd murmurs could be heard, but we both thought she was worth every penny.

Looking back I think we gave her the ride of her life. She will probably be doomed to sit and watch as others come and go, only giving her a fleeting glance. I don’t feel bad though, as she served her purpose well. And let’s face it, she’s still an ugly old couch, and she knows it.

A Full Night of Almost...

We had a bit of a late start to our first event outing, but hopes were still high for a night of new things. We set out to get a little culture infused into our slowly rotting bodies, to start the year out with a nice fierce slap to wake us from our slothfulness. That's what we set out to do, and that’s what we almost did.

When we got to the Schlafly Taproom, we were excited and even eager to see what was in store. We crossed the street from the parking lot with night around us and a chill in the air. I was immediately impressed by the building’s brick architecture and the sheer size of the place, which had several floors. Without delay we entered and asked to determine where things were going down. The answer was heartbreaking... things had gone down, and had all but cooled and crusted over. Culture had flashed, briefly, like lightning, in the Taproom and only a dim after-image was left hanging tauntingly in our vision. This place was now just a bar, and we had almost attended Burns’ Night.

So we hit the road, but not to give up and head home. This was the first of the Not-Rot excursions, and we would not be so easily deterred. That being said, we had no contingency plan. But hey, we were in the city, and there had to be some other culture-rich activities we could take part in, we just had to find them. So we drove, and drove, and drove around some more, until we were pretty sure we were lost, but still determined to find some area of the city we recognized.

It turns out if you drive long enough and turn at semi-recognizable streets, you will end up on Washington Ave. We turned down the avenue and were greeted by hanging lights, a brick street, and… a Hookah bar! We both quickly agreed to check it out, but once the girl working the bar told us the price and the duration (3-4 hours!) we left, having almost hit the hookah.

We walked down Wash. Ave brainstorming on what we could do, while I was getting a bit discouraged that the night would be a flop. We saw the Jive and Wail piano bar but they were closed, so we almost listened to live music. There was a coffee shop where we might be able to try some real Italian roast, but it was late and I didn’t want to caffeine to keep me up; so we almost had deep philosophical conversation over coffee. We completed our circuit, still culturally deficient, so we hit the road again and headed for the Loop.

Now at this point we were really just looking for something comforting to do to make ourselves feel a little better about our defeat. I pointed out Cheesology as we passed it, and we made plans to park further down and walk down to at least have some delicious mac ‘n’ cheese and a beer to finish the night. On the way down we passed the Tivoli and almost saw a movie. Then we passed in front of Star Clipper, a really cool comic book/graphic novel store and I suggested going in. We had a good time looking around then continued down to Cheesology, ready to sit and eat and relax.

We hesitated for a moment because they were stacking stools on the tables, but a quick glance at the door told us that they were open for another hour. We recovered and tried the door, which was locked. What?! The sign says you are open! Stop putting the stools up, we are hungry, damn it! No, please no, for the love of God... All we want to do is finish this cold and miserable night with warm food and a cold beer... Alas, it was not meant to be. We left, hungry and discouraged, to get back in the car for home. This was the end of the night we almost.

In chemistry, Entropy describes the “compulsion” of chemical reactants to always attain their lowest energy level or state. In the Burns’ Night experiment, we attempted to do the opposite, or at least fight the compulsion. In this regard we succeeded. We got off of our rotting butts and made an effort to stretch outside the norm. It wasn’t exciting (to read about) but it was fun, and we gave an honest effort. I think we are both more determined than ever to succeed at our next outing, even if that means really reaching beyond our comfort zones. We also learned that a good contingency plan is a must, and next time we will be more prepared. Because those that fail to plan, plan to ROT.

Thou Shalt Not Rot: 2012 Schedule

2012 Schedule

We are planning one event a month that will nudge outward, even if only by a hairs-breadth, the boundaries of our world. We will also blog our results, good or bad, mundane or extraordinary. The more unexpected the results, the better.

January: Burns Night at Taproom/ Walkin’ downtown

February: Photos with old couch around town

March: Cathedral/Holocaust Museum (contrast)

April: World Book Day, April 23 (http://www.us.worldbooknight.org/about-world-book-night/what-is-world-book-night)

May: Geo-caching

June: Pick up game/ meet up adventure outing

July: Poetry reading/author reading

August: Auction

September: Casino

October: Larping/Boffer (even attend a meeting at the very least)

November: Visit a religious center of some sort (shrine, temple, church; Islam, Hindu, Unitarian Universalist, Christian Scientist, Jehovah Witness, Mormon, radical Pentecostal…etc.)

December: Survey in public place--Christmas themed

Burns' Night

Mission One: Burns Night at The Tap Room in Downtown St. Louis."

Status: Completed

Result:

The location looked promising. Outside it was really neat looking. Matt and I walked into the Tap Room and asked the hostess where to go for Burns Night. She said we could either sit downstairs in the restaurant and have a pint of newly-released Scottish ale, or we could go upstairs to the pub, get a drink, and listen to some Scottish musicians play. I asked where the poetry reading and such was happening. She said the bagpipe procession had already taken place along with the poem (singular) reading.

W. T. F.

Seriously? That was Burns' Night? A new beer to sample? Who goes to this stuff? We went upstairs for the heck of it. It was crowded up the butt, and the two Scottish instrumentalists were in a dark corner, suffocated by, as far as I could tell, the roar of normal Wednesday night drinking crowd with nothing better to do. Don't think we lost heart and just left. We squeezed through the blathering hordes to confirm that there wasn't a place to sit that was remotely close to the ‘cultural corner’ of music. We were right. I snapped a few embittered photos over the many talking heads to prove to everyone that we had actually been there. We left.

But we did it. We jumped out and away from the What-We-Knew-It-To-Be, and had no choice but to meet the oncoming Whatever-It-Would-Become. And that's the point. In the words of Kahlil Gibran, we "finally extended our knowledge to a world beyond the narrow cavern of our birth." I look at it this way, if what we found in the end was too predictable, then we could be sure we didn't make it out of our existential backyard. So, I’m glad it wasn't exactly what I expected—that would have been an utter failure. I thought I would learn about Burns and his influence on culture...and who knows, maybe I did in a way that is a bit deflating to my ideal of Burns.

Burns was all about the common man. He had a lack-luster pedigree himself, and developed a profound appreciation for the hardship and joys of the working class. His poem, "A Man's a Man For A' That" extols the man and woman of low degree: "The rank is but the guinea's stamp, the Man's the gowd [gold] for a' that." There was plenty of Burns' "hamely fair" brewing this night at the Tap Room, and is it so bad that the celebration of culture was not a celebration about culture? If Burns’ true interest was in the fellowship of mankind without regard for the stamp of cultural rank, then the pageantry of this night was most likely antithetical to Burn’s praxis of drinking it up with friends.

I only wish I could have seen or heard a “pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth” in the whole place. Who knows maybe the sense and worth marched out with the bagpipes. I pray with Burns that “ Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth, shall bear the gree, an' a' that.” Here, here!

Yes, let’s bear the gree. It’s all in the gree ya know. That’s the only place it’s ever been in. The gree.

Burns, my homey from another croney, with what I saw tonight, are you sure a man’s a man for all of that? I can hear you now, “No, I ne’er said ‘a man’s a man for all of that’. I said “a man’s a man for a’ that.”

Ah yes. Who am I to argue? Now pour me anither paiynt!