I'm Published

Recieved my copy of The United States Hanggliding and Paragliding Magazine yesterday and I was one of the feature articles. Reading it, I realized that Hemingway was right, leave out all the adjectives! But, you can read the longer version of it here on the blog -- it's the second entry in December. I'm excited since it includes several photos and was originally writtten back in 1993 as a reminiscense. It was never really meant for publication.

Rewatching "The Cat People"

I've decided to start rewatching ancient movies that once captivated me, but that I've not watched in two decades or more (which mainly eliminates many of the well-known ones out on DVD.) Started last year with "The Masque of the Red Death" a long-time favorite from the 60's (my mother was a great lover of sci-fi and horror movies, both of them available in abundance at drive-in theaters where she regularly took her horde for entertainment.)

Yesterday it was the turn of "The Cat People" which I'd bought on video in the 80's but never really watched (had seen it years ago on the usual 0100 a.m. showing to which we were subjected in the 60's in the name of late night programming.) I had thought it was a little tame compared to many of the slash and gore movies out now, but there is something eerily sweet and sad about it. The girl is both the danger and the one standing in front of it -- trying to ward it off.

The plot, for you unfortunates: A young, foreign-born girl, working as a sketch-artist meets a ship engineer accidentally at the zoo where is she is fascinated by a black panther. They hit it off and he invites her to tea 'sometime,' she invites him to tea 'now.' They sit in her dark apartment and listen to the wild cats scream in the twilight. She tells him of her ancient village in Serbia where the people, during the dark ages, had turned to devil worship and the women had the power to turn into cats, when their passions overwhelmed them.

Of course you can see the whole thing coming. He courts her and they end up, reluctantly on her part because she feels her fate approaching her, wed. She refuses to kiss him or even bed him. He is tolerant and loving, but it palls after a while and he mentions it to a gal pal at work. His wife becomes jealous of their easy-going relationship and frightening things begin to happen. Cat-like screams are heard in the shadows, the female friend's robe is torn to ribbons as she swims in a basement pool, the wife disappears at odd moments. The husband tries to get her psychiatric help, but the psychiatrist, at first skeptical, is also very attracted to the danger of the wife and, finally, attempts to seduce her, to prove to her that her superstitions are wrong. You finish it.

The story is simple, but the lighting, the stark black and white imagery, the simplicity of the tale, and the way the legend itself parallels so much of what we feel about the female sexual drive. Sometimes "simple" lets your own imagination fill in the blanks. And, for it's time, it was a very straightforward tale about sex. Not so much a horror movie as an exploration of sexual danger and the unleashing of powerful female libidoes.

Driving and Clairvoyance -- my vent

Yeah, they don't actually occur together often in nature, which is one of my pet peeves. If I Knew what you were going to do ahead of time, all those turn signal, brake light, etc. thingies would be optional equipment. I would know that the little sign off to your right with "free beer" on it has just gotten your attention and that you're about to cross two lanes of traffic to intercept it. But, I'm not, and that's why you need to use the damned turn signal. It's actually a law. It's also just plain smart to signal the rest of the herd when you suddenly decide to veer, unless you are in a tank. (Breathe deep!) Okay, I'm done now.

Hanging On Gliding

Cool, I've got a link to Red Bull on the bottom of my blog! I love that stuff for it's kick-ass attitude and the fact that, of all the energy drinks, it's the least sweet and really does give me a little boost. My brother, the bull-rider, swears by it for the long hauls between rodeos, and I use it for distance driving and as a late night pick me up in the ED.

But, I really started out to talk about ' hanging on gliding,' when you are just glad to still have the basetube in your hands. It was blowing 15-20 all day, with gusts to 25-30, and I knew it was strong, but I have been so air-horny that it was like being a fresh HangvIII all over again. I waited around all day (instead of doing something useful like housework) and left the Man to lawncare, set up at 5pm anticipating the usual evening glass-off. It never materialized, at least not until after official sunset, when all good hanggliders, who don't want the FAA breathing down their necks, must be safely stowed on the ground. So, at 1715 I decided that I had flown in this shit before and I oculd handle it.

Yes, I had, and, yes, I could, but I couldn't make myself look graceful and I lured very few other pilots off the ramp after the rock 'n roll ride I had a few seconds after launch. Had a great 1 and 1/2 hour flight, but the gusts persisted and the thermals (still there when I came down to land at 1845) were over 800fpm up right off launch. Youch, got to test whether my shoulders are still up to that kind of stress.
P.S. The photo above is, actually, me in Austria.

Divorce Explanations

1) It was all my fault for being unfaithful. I'm a slut. (his)
2) It was his fault for deserting me after he had promised to help me raise my nephew. (not really my explanation, but it starts out this way some days. I try not to use this in front of people; it's too self-serving.)
3) We were tearing each other apart and two good people don't need to do that. (for public consumption)
4) He was destroying me by making me choose between me and 'the kid' as he labelled my nephew. But he knew about my commitment to family and that I had promised R a place to stay as long as he attended school, didn't break any major rules, and passed his classes. He didn't realize that when he said, "him or me," It meant him or my promises, my integrity, my vision of myself. (this is the one I claim most often in my silent arguments with him.)
5) We both got bored. (probably some truth here.)
6) Neither of us was good at discussing or even recognizing and naming our feelings, let alone discussing how two such misfits and independent people ever found anyone to marry them -- a couple of lone eagles better in a thermal than in a nest. (Getting closer to the heart of the problem)
7) Neither of us was willing to give up ourselves or self-image, even for the love of each other. And we did love each other. (Truth)
8) Selfishness. (oh, yes.)