Hitting The Links: 9/22/24
Two Towers, Three Sisters, The Empire of Defiance, and a whole passel of links for you
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Two Towers, Three Sisters, and the Empire of Defiance
I survived my pharma conference this week. It went really well — ALL HAIL GIL — but I was in too frantic a mode of micromanaging every aspect of it to appreciate things too much (plus getting walloped by a sinus infection and the steroid meds to try to alleviate the terrible pain in my ear). I’ll write about that some other time, or maybe talk about it in the intro to this week’s episode.
Instead, I’ll unload about yesterday. I got home from the conference at 6:15 pm on Friday after a 5.5-hour drive from MD, and at 8:30 am on Saturday I was heading over to my old friend’s place so he could drive us up to Claryville, NY for the 4th hike in our Catskills Fire Tower challenge.
Red Hill wasn’t too long a hike: 2 miles out with a 1,200’ climb, incl. the tower itself. It got steep during part of mile 2, and our excuse for sweating so much is that we thought it’d be a little cooler, but the views atop the tower were worth the hike (as was the day-long conversation of two old pals about life, mortality, the pharma industry, politics, EVs, & whatever else), and we managed the downhill return without any mishaps.
Ever since we began this challenge in May, my friend had mentioned a Russian brewery & art gallery located near this tower, and we finally got to visit it for lunch after this one: Russian Mule Brewery. As we pulled up to the place, we saw at least a dozen motorcycles lined up outside, made the requisite Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure joke, and headed in.
Six or seven bikers were outside smoking, and they stepped aside to let us enter. The rest were gathered at the bar and gave us room to get the bartender & waitress’ attention. We took a table, ordered the “Russian ravioli” — which we felt they really should have called dumplings — and surveyed the scene.
The bikers were no weekend Harley-yuppies; most wore Empire of Defiance MC New York™ vests, were tatted, and otherwise looked legit. We noted the Iron Crosses and other . . . Germanic imagery, but they weren’t stirring up trouble with the other patrons. Although they were so laughing so loud at times that it set off the 90 db warning on my Apple Watch.
We ate and checked out the art on the walls. At a distance, the framed paintings of people all looked like some consumerist commentary, with brand logos like Budweiser, Reebok, Brooklyn Brewery & the like integrated in the pieces. Upon closer examination, the paintings were done on the boxes of those brands: an unfolded Reebok sneaker box was the main area for a painting, a case of Bud and a wine crate were unfolded for the cardboard surface of another. That changed up the meaning a bit, though we didn’t know how much until later.
My pal told me that the exaggerated figures in the paintings reminded him of some interwar German art he saw at a museum, but he couldn’t recall the artist. I pulled up some Otto Dix images on my phone and pretty much nailed it.
About my phone: we were on wifi in the bar, but otherwise the whole region is a dead zone, with no cell signal. I mentioned that in an earlier piece about these hikes, how the Catskills are cell-impenetrable, and why maybe it’s not so bad that you can’t just check out your phone all the time.
We ate, gabbed, bought long-sleeved T-shirts from the restaurant, then made our way to the connected building, the Alexander Kaletski Museum at the Claryville Art Center. A blonde woman with a Russian accent greeted us as we entered the space. She told us that Kaletski emigrated from the USSR in the mid-‘70s, and that he was unable to afford art materials so he picked up cardboard from the New York sidewalks and painted on that. Which explained the works in the restaurant.
I thought about how I’ll be recording this afternoon with Dmitry Samarov, another Soviet-era emigre artist. We checked out a few exhibition guides of Kaletski’s and looked at the 20 or so pieces in the museum. My fave was the cardboard butler.
As we got in the car to head out, my pal said, “So, I know we’re gonna do the final tower on Hunter Mountain in October, but we do have to hit the one at the Catskill Visitors Center if we want to do the whole Fire Tower Challenge. . . .”
This would mean a -50-min. drive from the restaurant, a short hike to the tower, then the drive back to NJ. I was up for it, figuring I was already in a state of post-conference exhaustion, and how much worse could it get?, not realizing I was also beginning to go through caffeine withdrawal.
While we still had wifi connection from the restaurant, I got a map route to the Visitor Center, and we hit the road; I kept my phone open as we followed the offline map for half an hour, until we picked up a signal.
Out in the Catskills, there isn’t much by way of coffeeshops or convenience stores. My brain was starting to implode a little, but I kept it together, thankful I made a 2nd cup before leaving the house that morning.
The center was closed when we arrived, so we tried to find the trailhead for the tower on our own. I pointed out one likely candidate, and we followed that up a quarter mile & 160’ elevation, only to discover that it terminated at some picnic benches, with no fire tower in sight. We returned to the parking lot, found the right route, and learned it was only a 300’ flat walk. Oops.
We climbed that tower in the late afternoon sun, and some other visitors took our picture for us. (We need to provide the NY Department of Environmental Conservation with photographic proof that we hit all 6 towers to get our Little Orphan Annie decoder ring or badge or something.) We took theirs, and then it was back to the car, and off to the Quik Check & supercharger spot in Kingston.
I hit the convenience store for a canned coffee and MOAR WATER, and noticed three nuns in white robes with blue trim over at the deli counter. I surreptitiously shot this pic to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. No idea what sect they represent, and I wasn’t going to ask.
On the way home, we talked about taking opportunities, and how our younger selves probably would have appreciated that our mid-50s selves are trying, at least. We talked about how we never would have discovered Kaletski while sitting at home on our laptops & tablets, never would have bumped into the Empire of Defiance (+ 1 Irish Saint), or three nuns, while watching golf or football on a weekend. We talked about retirement, which is more of a conceivable concept to my friend than to me.
When we got back to his place after another 1:45 on the road, I had the challenge of finding my way home. He lives in a development that gets no cell coverage and is filled with twists and turns and hills. I had called up a GPS route before entering the area, so I’d be able to follow it offline, but when I plugged my phone into my car, it was considerate enough to rest the maps app and leave me blind. I drove both purposefully and aimlessly for a few minutes, which seems to sum up my life if you think about it, and then a car turned onto the road ahead of me & I thought, “PLEASE BE LEAVING AND NOT GOING TO YOUR HOUSE,” and followed the driver for the next 5 minutes. When I saw the “EXIT” sign on a corner, I let out a cheer, and we both headed for the gate to leave.
At home, I thought about how I really should slow down, but then I still have to book my flights for this midweek’s client visit in San Diego.
Like I said at the top, ALL HAIL GIL.
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And now, let’s hit the links!
Links & Such
Recent Virtual Memories Show podcasts: Stephen B. Shepard • Benjamin Dreyer • Nicholas Delbanco • Dash Shaw • Jess Ruliffson • Joe Coleman • Anita Kunz • Shalom Auslander • Maurice Vellekoop • Laura Beers • Robert Pranzatelli
RIP Tito Jackson . . . RIP Nelson DeMille . . . RIP Roy Gillian . . . RIP Heather Brown (this is a year old; Heather worked at FDA during my first big negotiation with them, left to move back to Maine, and we corresponded a little after, but I lost track of her and got the awful news about her death from an FDA friend who was attending my conference this week: just terrible news)
Go read this letter by Graham Parsons to Elon Musk explaining his decision not to attend West Point’s commencement due to Musk’s condemnation of trans & nonbinary people. (Graham’s married to Summer Pierre.)
Another cross-country-by-Amtrak story and I AM HERE FOR IT.
But the only Greyhound station in Chicago is going away.
The Miami Vice pilot rocked it.
While I do go on selfie-flurries sometimes, I guarantee I have never facetuned or gotten cosmetic surgery.
Before we get to what I’m reading, here’s a Julia Wertz strip about what she’s reading.
Dying-not-dying was good for me, but YMMV.
Current/Recent Reading
The Myth of Sisyphus - Albert Camus (tr. Justin O’Brien)
A Natural History of Empty Lots: Field Notes from Urban Edgelands, Back Alleys, and Other Wild Places - Christopher Brown
Sound Body, Fractured Mind
My exercise regimen got blown up by my conference this week (and will again because of the coming week’s travel) & yesterday’s hikes. I did get in a yoga workout Wednesday morning before the 5+-hour drive down to MD, figuring that would be better for my body than a weights-workout. Because it was a driving trip, I brought a yoga mat & one of my exercise bands with me, so I could do my morning routine & start both days with 15 min. of activity. With the pre-event dinner, the big networking dinner, and various breaks & snacks during the days, I thought I’d put on a couple pounds, but Saturday’s weigh-in revealed that I’d actually dropped 2.5 lbs. from Wednesday. Oops. Yesterday’s hike continued the burn-off, so I’m under 170 again which, yes, I had aspired to for a couple of years. Anyway, I hope to get in weights today. Here’s a little of my vanity for you, after Wednesday’s yoga:
Until Next Time
Thanks for reading this far! I’ll be back on Wednesday with a new episode & maybe some art but no Instax pix, and on Sunday with links, books, & workout craziness, & maybe a little profundity or something.
I tell you my problems / Have I become one of your problems?,