I'm in the back of Brian Vandervort's five speed Nissan Altima. Very shortly after we left I felt weird-- light headed and dizzy and my fingertips tingled. I had to ask them to pull over. Very humiliating.

I took some Dramamine when we stopped. Can one acquire motion sickness with age? I never heard of that-- maybe I'm just wack.

Nonetheless the Dramamine did the trick... only I find myself very sleepy.

It's really funny. I don't let myself win. At first I was forcing myself to stay awake because I didn't want to be the only one sleeping. Also I didn't want people to think the drug got the better of me.

Then I saw Jodi seem to get close to slumber. I should have felt liberated. I didn't. All of a sudden sex mattered. I didn't want me and Jodi to both fall asleep and the guys think, "Look both of the women fell asleep!" I didn't want them to draw conclusions based on our gender.

I'm really tired. I keep wondering if this is a sensation that will subside when the drug wears off...or will it be like a hangover-- I'll need to recuperate anyway. I don't want to deprive myself of writing time, but I'd rather be awake later this evening.

Bah. I think I will close my eyes.

10-5-2001
Still en route

I've been watching the trees whiz by. Most of the time they're in big patches, covering whole mountains. But sometimes we pass by rocky patches where you could see where they cut years ago to build the road. A few young trees cling where they can.

It made me wonder.

Do trees get lonely?

I don't expect them to be sad or what not. I just wonder. If you had two trees, one with a group of others, another standing alone, which one would grow better.

I know if the tree is alone it's going to get all the sunlight it could want. It doesn't have to compete against the other trees.

Maybe even getting too much sunlight's bad for the tree too.

But say we give both trees identical sunlight, identical soil compositions-- which one would grow better?

The one with friends has more protection against the elements.

They say woman who are close end up menstruating together-- the cycles sync up because of the scentless hormones we excrete. Maybe trees and the by products of photosynthesis send off signals, maybe encouragement to its surroundings.

Maybe having another tree around helps.

This seems like the kind of quirky notion Discover magazine would do a quick blurb on.

There's research that shows if you talk to houseplants they grow better. I don't think that's related to the conversation now. As I water my own plants I thought of alternative reasoning. If you are talking to a plant every day-- you are paying attention to it. This means you're more likely to note dry soil or wilting leaves. Since you are evaluating it every day you can implement corrective action quicker.

The "talking to the plant" is just a mask to what's really happening, I suspect, is you are taking care of your plant.

We are near Morgantown. I should go.

10-6-2001
Morgantown, WV

I'm sitting in our hotel lobby. It's really nice-- there is a circular fire place in the middle with couches and tables all around. A very peaceful place. A good place to reflect.

I think I'm going to lay low this evening. Perhaps stay here a while and work on Death of Dannon. Yesterday was tiring and today was a long day.

I never did sleep in the car yesterday. After arriving at the Comfort Inn and getting situated we went out for supper.

The downtown area of Morgantown is beautiful. In fact I think the whole state of West Virginia is beautiful. I'm not just being seduced by the very beginning of fall foliage-- when I drove to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers twice in July I found West Virginia much more lovely and interesting than Kentucky. Kentucky was pretty boring with the exception of the Springfield and Simpsonville exits being so close together and a water tower painted with purebreds. I think parts of Virginia are lovely-- almost as much as their western counterpart. But I think the scenic views are more concentrated in West Virginia-- there are more mountains and trees.

Today at the game the band played John Denver's Country Roads. I'll mess the words up but vaguely they said

Country roads, take me home, To the place I belong West Virginia.

That song touched me. The habitants of this land are often mocked. Poverty is rampant. But, I think I'd be so proud if I lived here, grew up here, to sing that song. This is a beautiful land to come from.

You can leave this state behind and become doctors and lawyers, even NFL (Randy Moss) and NBA (Jason Williams) players or rocket scientists for NASA (Homer Hickum). But always at the roots you originated from a breathtaking landscape.

On one side-- I think how can one not dream of great things being surrounded by this great environment.

I know that's not true-- just from what little I know of the coal mining industry. Maybe that's why?

You don't need a grandiose ambition- you are surrounded (and awed) by nature's ambition each day.

My "little" tangent is over. The downtown area of Morgantown is cute and quaint. Lots of thin brick buildings, old ones, line the streets. The terrain is hilly so, like San Francisco, you get to see many layers of buildings up steep roads.

It seems much bigger than Blacksburg. Instead of all the bars being crammed into one main street, Morgantown seems to have at least 2 or 3 equivalents of our Main St. So the bars are spread out and mixed up between local restaurants and businesses. There are a lot of familiar names among the establishments here. We've seen a Subway, Dairy Queen, Quiznos, Boston Beanery and Papa Johns. That's nothing notable by itself. Those companies are not indigenous all over the world. What is unique is instead of their own standalone structures, cookie cutter architecture, these companies have adapted to the pre-existing architecture. They've conformed their floor plans to fit in the bottom floors of buildings that are likely older than their corporations. Instead of creating and dictating the environment they adapt. It's too bad the commerce committees of Blacksburg and Christiansburg don't develop similar restrictions-- it promotes a unique and inspiring look. It's warm-- having the restaurants snuggled into nooks and crannies. San Francisco was similar.

Last night we ate supper in a bar. It's called "The Sports Page." On the way up Brian spoke of this place and said, "An independent magazine ranked it one of the top ten bars in the country."

"Oh really?" Jodi said with knowing skepticism. "What magazine would that be?"

With reluctance Brian answered, "Playboy."

You had to descend steps into the bar, sort of like the bar "Cheers" was based on.

At the bottom I was promptly asked for my id... which was a bit of an inconvenience since I stored it in my shoe!

It looked like your typical sports bar-- three big screen TVs, powers on the walls and ceilings, pool tables and air hockey.

All the employees wore striped referee shirts. With the women, it was a little different. Their black and white shirts were tiny tucked cutoffs that revealed their bellies. They also wore tiny shorts. One waitress would bend over and you could see the bottom curvature of her ass well beneath the scope of her shorts.

I think the thing that struck me the most was the ladies room. Here was an establishment geared towards men, but the ladies room was exquisite. It was large and clean. The stalls boasted a lot of privacy like the public restrooms in Reading, U.K. To dedicate that much square footage to woman patrons was surprising.

The service was really slow and the food was okay. It was bar food.

There was a big rack of free postcards on the wall. That must be what helped them make the Playboy cut. Free postcards and clean bathroom facilities-- two metrics all Playboy readers value! :)

The free postcards are what you'd expect for their price. They are advertisements for mascara, hair dye and gimmick websites. I grabbed some anyway and already filled in three of them.

It's reminiscent of another free postcard adventure. Back in July, desperate to find my passport, I sifted through my special box. I found my ticket stub from my flight to Belgium and other memorabilia, but no passport (So I had to reapply).

One thing I found was a Marlboro postcard with weird writing. On the back I wrote something like:

"Dear Dad,
     I got this postcard for FREE! ..."

I got it at a bar in Ghent. A bar where I had cherry bear and a bar where I danced a bit. Everyone was infatuated with the notion of free postcards so they grabbed some as well and stuffed them in my book bag for safekeeping. According to my postcard to Dad no one reclaimed their cards. So I ended up with 30 free postcards advertising American cigarettes.

After we left The Sports Page we went to a place called Bent Willy's. This place was HUGE! It was like a bunch of bars in one. Many Sharkey's, there was a P.K.'s deck (only better). There was even a dance club section with fog machines and specialty lights.

We sat out on the deck for some time. The rails had numerous tiki torches lighting the area. When we first got there it was relatively empty and we got a table. I was fond of the view. Old three story buildings were in the horizon. The moon, slightly tartered, peeked in and out of clouds. Brian Vandervort pointed out the moon looked neat through the torch fumes. He was right.

The townscape near the moon didn't look real. Three old buildings, a black iron fire escape in the moonlight. It looked like something the Vampire Lestat would paint. Some of the windows of these old buildings were lit. For some reason buildings in these contexts make me think of artists and writer and creators.

I look at these quiet windows, lit far above the activity filled streets and I wonder what is going on inside. What dreams are being conceived (or hopefully fulfilled) in those windows? What great works may come forth from those apartments?

The waitresses at Bent Willy's wore short skirts, high boots and tiny white tank tops. Their attire made me in my long sleeve knitted top feel guilty for shivering at every breeze. These poor waitresses braved the elements nearly nude and covered a lot of territory... and apparently their efforts are overlooked by Playboy.

Later we went into the dance hall area. It took some time to warm up but when it did we all had a fun, but sweaty time.

Even Sean danced! He must have a natural talent for it. He never dances and I doubt he practices at home, but he was quite good.

That man surprises me a lot. Even after five years.

...

Last night, as I've implied, was a late night. Although I had a great deal of fun, at times I felt trapped. Everyone wanted to meet at 8:30 AM the next day and I wanted a good night's sleep. I wanted to be back by 11 PM, but instead we got back at 3 AM.

Again I did have a great time especially with the dancing...but at the same time I'm taking days off for these trips. These are "vacations" but I'm not getting any rest or relaxation.

I also like time alone, time to reflect and write. But I can't do that if we get back at 3 AM and have to wake up at 7 AM.

...

WVU had shuttle buses from their basketball coliseum (where we tailgated) to the stadium. They were old yellow school buses.

I got both extremes. To the stadium I rode in the very front seat (with Larry AND Lori in the same seat!). On the way back I was in the second to last seat.

When we arrived back at the coliseum and the line started to move in the back of the bus I walked tapping my hands on the seat backs as I passed.

Flashback to elementary school! Carolyn go the chicken pox first out of the three of us. ... I got them soon afterwards. Apparently you can still have the pox scabs and not be contagious so Mom sent me back to school even though I still had some visible signs of my affliction.

I did the same thing as I paced down the bus in front of Occoquan Elementary School. I touched each seat back as I passed.

Further down the aisle I could hear Greg Strawterman say, "Ick. Yuck. Chicken pox germs!"

Sean remarked yesterday that I say "pass gas". I got that from Dad. "The Good Lord" is another phrase I swiped from my father.

My face is starting to sting. Before we left Blacksburg I remembered my sunscreen was in my car. I didn't run back to get it, thinking, "Oh it's going to be cold and rainy anyway."

You wouldn't believe how often stuff like this happens. It happens a lot with the dogs. I'll see something and think, "Oh the dogs might get that." If I second guess my hunch or even put it off a few moments, the dogs fulfill my suspicion. That doesn't mean I'm psychic. Perhaps the dogs are! :)

Anyway now I'm careful with stuff like that-- removing the canine temptation immediately. I wish I was more careful today.

The more away games I attend the more I realize:

Our marching band is sub par.

I definitely enjoy the ambience our band gives during the games playing the Imperial March, the Stick It In song, Louie Louie, etc.

But the actual half time performances are sloppy and confusing. They make these haphazard curves that aren't even symmetric. Like the sermons of that Irish priest their random flow just doesn't reach me.

Chris Stuard, Belluzo, Rickerson and the other band members I've been acquaintances with the past six years all seem to describe being wasted. I think I mentioned this before-- but I wonder if our band would be better if they were more sober.

Today the WVU band made an outline of their state. Then they expanded to outline the U.S. It was awesome. One man in the Hokie section stood up to give them an ovation. It was moving-- they even got the opposing fans to applaud.

I have a new found respect for baton twirlers. I rarely pay them not-- but today I noticed three WVU twirlers practicing near the end zone prior to the half. I watched them rehearse and man they were amazing. You never get to fully grasp their accomplishments because they are so far removed. When they are relatively close the intricacies of their movements and catches really come to the foreground. Your own rhythmic gymnastics competition right before your eyes.

The WVU stadium is great. Like Rutgers its built into the ground instead of looming above it. I think that resulted in a nice wind guard. Sean and I left our seats with 3 minutes left. We had good cause. For our whole section there was only one entry point. We were near that one exit aisle so through the whole game people kept passing in front of us or behind us to visit the restrooms or snack bar. Sean accurately anticipated congestion on this tiny metal stairwell from our section. So we preempted it, got out before the others. When we got to the top we were instantly bombarded by steady breezes. In the stadium we didn't have to contend with the wind. I think that's the result of a good design.

Oh yeah, did I mention it was another shut out?

Sean heard a stat-- that we've never scored more than 28 points in that stadium. We beat that today!

The WVU fans had a gesture routine they performed each time their team got a first down. The participation rate was amazing. I could see entire sections doing the finger flickering, the clapping and the waving in complete unison. In the early quarters it was very impressive.

As play continued and Tech's point tally continued to rise and more and more fans deserted the stadium, the ritual was no where near as formidable. Just a few islands of fans on empty bleachers carrying it on. Sporadic and sad.

I got a family of women-- the three daughters in pajamas to watch my seat while I fetched D.O.D. and my laptop. I think I may try to type up passages-- I wonder if I will get sidetracked by "Saturday Night Live".

10-7-2001
En Route to Blacksburg

I worked until about 12:40 AM when Brian, Jodi and Sean returned. "Holding down the fort, Sawyer?" was Vandervort's salutation.

We are en route back to Blacksburg.

I thought of a couple of nontrip related things I've been meaning to document.

...

President Bush just addressed the nation from the treaty room. We've started our attach on Afghanistan's Taliban. I listened to the address looking out at the beautiful scenery I described in yesterday's entry. I looked up at the colorful mountains and the buzzards gliding so peacefully above.

Some place else other people are getting hurt, other people are dying. Could the unrest come here to this land? One day will these beautiful mountains be charred landscapes-- monuments of death and destruction?

...

Today is such a beautiful day. The sky above is blue and filled with those puffy and friendly clouds. The mountains are speckled with color. They almost look like an impressionist painting too close up. The buzzards are as peaceful and nostalgic as ever.

It doesn't seem like a good day for war.

The drizzly overcast and rough seas of June 6th. The bleak bitter weather at the Battle of the Bulge. Those seem like good weather for warfare. But a sunny day with crisp fall weather? There are so many better things to do than kill.

10-7-2001
Near New River Gorge

We just stopped at New River Gorge. It was my first time there. Spectacular view. There is a wooden stair walkway that takes you down to an overlook. I think I counted 172 stairs.

Looking back, I think I expected the mood to be more reflective and quiet, awe of the beauty of nature and man-made feats. Did I mention the overlook also provided a view of the world's largest arch bridge, built in 1977.

My grandfather Sawyer designed and built bridges. In face he constructed a number of bridges in the nation's capital.

Both of my grandfathers did something great-- NASA and bridges. They helped progress and bother were related to transportation. How neat-- they were both very productive.

Back on track-- down on that wooden overlook the mood wasn't somber. It was full of live and enthusiasm and directed photographs. I wasn't mad. As soon as I descended the stairs I forgot all about war and was enthused by the fresh air and he exercise.

Whoops. I've temporarily misplaced my green Dr. Grip.

Found it! Didn't even have to recruit the aid of St. Anthony. It was under Sean's butt.

...