Opening the Time Vault: Michael Goes "Camping" in the Land of Oz

Phone
Originally uploaded by michaelrice1982.

A recent picture of me on my “cell phone”. Needless to say, the conversation was a bit one sided, as well as, what’s the word… oh yes, imaginary! Cell phones are absurd and no one is that important! This could be radical latent jealousy. I’m done. On with the blog…

Dear Fellow Citizens Sharing an Inescapable Commonality (Mr. Bush),
Well, it seems as though good old George has done it once again, and convincingly I might add. It’s a good thing. Surely some of his success must be credited to me as I know that my politically ingenious ranting and ravings on blogger must have reached, ahem, 3 people. So in the wake of it all I find myself not quiet sure what to do with myself, as rushing home to check Fox News has undeniably lost some of its appeal. It’s almost like quasi-political-agoraphobia... that made little sense to me and I imagine littler sense to others. But there is comfort in the fact that the beauty of intense, unflinching engagement is disengagement, which is the plan for now. I have blogs to write, school work to do, and, well, that’s about it. It’s a good thing.

One thing that Presidential elections are good for is serving as a sort of time vault yardstick. What better way to look back four years and try to figure out just what it was you were doing, just what it was that seemed so important. I remember very well a botched camping trip I took…

It was early November of the year 2000, and I decided that I had to spend a week in isolation camping out in the great Kansas plains-you know the pressures of playing guitar were affecting my well-being. So, staying true to the Boy Scouts maxim “Be Prepared” I purchased a gallon of water, a loaf of bread, and 5 cans of ravioli. In addition to my generous food supplies I loaded up my comforter, a plethora of Jack Kerouac books, and some rope. What I was going to do with the rope is beyond me. Oh, and since I was being so rugged (euphemism for idiotic) I naturally brought my cell phone. My good friend Casey then took me out to the lake about 5 miles outside of Lawrence and dropped me off. This was at about 6pm.

All I can really say for certain is that it was COLD. As I’m sure you can tell I was ill prepared, but there was an internal energy that echoed throughout my body. Indeed, I knew what Thoreau must have felt like spending those years at Walden as I continually checked my watch only to find about an hour had gone by. But I was doing it! I was all alone baby!

Tragedy struck around 9pm. As much as I’d like to say I injured my arm in a bear fight or had built such a tremendous fire the park rangers asked me to leave, the pathetic reality is that my girlfriend Kara called from Overland Park demanding that I “Like, totally bring back her copy of Felicity at once!”

“But Kara, I’m like totally being a rugged outdoorsman/isolationist. I have chores and responsibilities and still haven’t cleaned all the fish I caught.” (Meaning, I need to thaw out my fingers so I can play gameboy) This masculine authoritative declaration was followed by uncontrollable laughter, a tell tale sign of the beginnings of dementia preacox.
“No Michael. Bring it or else!”

Yowsa. I suppose that the small empire I had built in the woods would have to succumb to Kara’s insatiable desire to get that Felicity tape back. But even Rome fell I suppose. The hardest part was calling Casey, only four hours after my adventure had begun, and it was all too evident in his voice as he picked up the phone (“Yeeeees Michael?”) that he knew it was over before it really began.
I did make it through the night. Again, all I can say for sure is that it was very COLD. The sleepless night was spent in a fetal position as I cursed Thoreau and Keri Russel alike. But I was still rugged-can’t say that enough.

Alas,the next morning Casey arrived bright and early to find me picking flowers at a feverish pace. He can only describe my state of consciousness as “being entirely united, both spiritually, emotionally, and physically, with the physical and metaphysical world.” I, on the other hand, can only describe my state as hypothermic mixed with sleep deprivation. But the bouquet my immobile fingers were able to construct is a sight I’ll never forget. Kara was not impressed with it though when I delivered it to her later that evening. It turned out that while I remembered the flowers, I forgot the tape. It wasn’t pretty. The term “train wreck” comes to mind.

But I attempted my week in isolation, which is more than the majority of people can say. Of course, the majority of people can say that I’m a moron, but that’s not the point. The point is that in the tradition of Thoreau and Kerouac, even Hemmingway, I was bold and pressed forth, and as Frost would say, “Took the road less traveled.” And while I’d like to say, “It made all the difference”, it made none. Hell, it may not have even made for a great blog.

Anyways, there is a little anecdotal cautionary tale against the dangers of, well, nonconformity. I suppose it’s time for a quick nap and then time for one of my favorite classes, Magic Ritual and Religion.

So until next time, I remain, an avid, rugged outdoorsman at heart,
MW Rice (The Idiot Child)

Random Quote for the day:
The louder a man speaks, the less sound his argument is.