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January, 2000


Saturday January 1st, 2000

The future has arrived. We're living in it. The odd thing is it doesn't feel any different than the past did. It just feels like next year has arrived. Not the future. 2000 has turned out to be just an arbitrary number. There are living things on this Earth right now over 4000 years old. I will spend the most part of the coming millennum dead and I've lived nowhere near 1000 years. The number 2000 doesn't mean a thing, its just a convenient pneumonic that makes it possible for people to talk about the past or the future in a consistent way.

So what was all the big fuss about? It seemed a bigger deal in the rest of the world (ROW) than here in the U.S. The ROW spent billions on Year 2000 festivities. Here in the U.S. it was maybe a little bigger than the average New Year's, but not much. Even then, why does any New Years Eve deserve a big celebration? I think the answer is simple - it's just an excuse to have a party. They seemed to do it better in ROW though. The New Year's arrival at GMT seems much more significant to me than it does four hours later in New York, so it's more appropriate that London brought in the New Year in much higher style than America. I've never bought off on the Times Square thing. A big lighted ball being lowered on a hoist while thousands of people look on - how ridiculous is that?! A weak contrivance.

The saving grace of my Year 2000 celebration was champagne. I love the stuff! I had dinner with my racing friends at Stuart and Carri's house last night. I was going to meet my skiing friends at 11:00 pm, but I smoked a cigar around 10:00 pm and got a nasty enough buzz I couldn't drive until almost 11:15. I made it to the ski group's party scant minutes before Midnight. A tall glass of Moet et Chandon was quickly thrust into my hand, just in time for the New Year's Toast. Monterey did a nice job of doing a fireworks show too. New Year's Eve may be a weak excuse for a party, but if they're going to throw a party and invite me, I may as well go.

Jon, one of the ski guides and 19 years old, was being particularly cute. Not long after I arrived I told him I liked champagne. He said he had only had a taste of champagne before, but was enjoying drinking it now. When I found Jon again two hours later he was still working on a glass of champagne but now much drunker. He was a happy, cute drunk, but I wondered if he knew the possible after affects of too much sparkling wine. "Hey Jon!", I asked, "didn't you say that you hadn't had much champagne before?!"

"Yeah, but I've had a lot of it since then!", he quipped back. I nearly fell down laughing! Even drunk off his ass he came up with that one, right off the cuff. I scruffed his hair and gave him a friendly warning to drink some water before bed. I sure hope he took my advice.

I left the party around 2:00 am, relatively sober to get some sleep. This morning I got up at 7:00 to head out to a temporary race track set up with cones around an old airport. It was a nice opportunity to take my car out and run four laps for time. I've never done an autocross event like this one before. It was a blast! The whole cone course can be run in second gear and I got up to maybe 60mph top speed. But its the corners and braking that's so much fun. I had the car sliding in a four wheel drift around every one of the myriad twists and turns in the course! Each car runs the course (one at a time) and competes against other cars in the same class based on time. The best time of four runs counts. My best time was 69.137 seconds, which was good for third place. Not a bad finish for my first competitive event as a driver! Stuart finished second in his class (65 seconds, but his car has two more cylinders than mine!) so after the event we went back to Stu and Carri's again to celebrate with yet more Moet et Chandon!

None of the events of the last 24 hours have any real significant bearing on the rest of my life, but they sure were fun. I guess that's not a bad way to begin the Year 2000.

Sunday January 2nd, 2000

I've spent most of the day today at home, alone. It's always nice to have a day to myself. No people demanding things of me, or simply yammering on at me. My only real task was to get Christmas behind me. All day my webcam showed me and an increasingly undecorated Christmas tree. Somewhere around the early evening the tree was completely removed. It only remains for a few gifts to be stored or installed (like my new computer racing steering wheel for Grand Prix games!).

I always get a little post-Christmas depression this time of year. I'm not doing too bad this year, but I miss the holidays already. The next few months hold many skiing adventures (if we ever get some more snow in the Sierra Nevadas!) and another research voyage at sea, but the warmth and sparkle of the holiday season is gone.

My parents should be returning from their New Year's celebrations in London tonight. I hope they got to see the fireworks on the Thames. They were threatening to stay in their guest flat as midnight approached to be 'safe' from the crowds. Seems like it would be an awful waste to spend so much money to fly 8000 miles from home for the festivities there, then stay inside and watch them on the telly.

I've decided that this year my parents are in for a little more fireworks from me as well. I've been 'sheltering' them from the knowledge that I've been dating Brent for the last three years. Sure, I told them two years ago that I'm gay, but since then they've swept that information under the metaphorical rug and not said much about it since. My Mom just acts weird and nervous and angry around me, and my Dad acts like nothing happend - except he doesn't ask about girls anymore. It's time they delt with me being gay not as an acedemic matter, but as a practical one. They need to know I've got a wonderful boyfriend.

It could become more than just a social need to tell them. I've started to consider moving in with Brent. *GULP!* Sheesh, can you imagine what telling my parents I'm giving up my nice apartment to go live with another guy is going to be like?! Aaaak! I dread it already. The thing is, Brent and I spend prolly 5 of the 7 nights of the week together already at one another's houses. We might as well be living together for the economic advantages alone. I get lonely without him sometimes too. On the flip side, I've never lived with a boyfriend before. I think I will genuinely miss my independance and privacy too. It's not a done deal or a foregone conclusion anyway. I'm just starting to think about it. But, that's a big first for me. It'll prolly kill my parents when I hint at the idea.

Tuesday January 4th, 2000

XOOM did it again! They've shutdown my page for 24 hours without explanation or response to my complaints (other than automated ones) and then restored the service with no other comment. Does anyone know a good web host I can move too? If I move, I'll be sure to leave a forward message here, don't worry. If my pages disappear again without warning, it's just XOOM acting screwy.

I've been in a low mood today. Whiskers, one of my two pet rats, died during the night. He'd been getting ever more sickly all Fall so I took him to the vet's early last week. The diagnosis was pneumonia and the prognosis very poor. His blood was only carrying 50% of the oxygen it was supposed to and all he could do was lie around breathing frantically. The vet suggested putting him on an antibiotic to stop the infection, rather than euthanising the rat despite his obvious suffering. I think if it's debatable, one should err on the side of life, so I got the antibiotics for him, hand fed and watered him every six hours day and night, and kept the house very warm. Over the last five days Whiskers' health improved dramatically - he was breathing OK again, he had lots of energy and like playing again, he was eating on his own and gaining weight, and his coat looked much better. I thought he was going to be fine.

This morning I found him lying still and peaceful in his little nest of terry cloth towels next to Oreo, my other rat. As I approached the cage, I thought the two were merely sleeping. I knew something was wrong when Oreo spotted me and started stirring with excitement (they always get excited when I come over to see them!) and Whiskers didn't move. Rodents are known to simply slip away in their sleep when their time comes. That obviously happened to poor Whiskers. I'm very sad that he didn't make it, but at least the course of antibiotics made his last days much more comfortable and fun than the previous few.

I'm sure Whiskers died happy and content, but I can't say I feel the same about it. It hurt me the most when I reached in the cage to pick up and remove his remains. He was as still as fake toy rat, and worst of all he was cold. I've never felt something cold and dead before. I didn't expect him to be cold. My hand recoiled from the surprise, and I had to get past a little wall of denial to actually pick him up.

I said my goodbyes to my little friend, but had to wonder as well. What was so different about him this morning, cold and lifeless, from last evening when he was so animated and happy? What tiny change occurred that made such a world of difference? And how can that subtle little alteration be so irrevocable? I guess I don't really understand what life or death is. So, that is the mood I'm left in as I write this tonight - sad, lonely, and utterly baffled.

This one is for Whiskers.

Monday January 10th, 2000

If it's not one rat, it's another. Just as I've dealt with Whiskers sudden death, now I find Oreo ailing. I'm going to have to take him to see the vet tomorrow. He's started loosing his balance and goes around with his little head cocked to one side. More worrisome than that, his left eye seems to be bulging a bit. I'm worried about a brain tumor or such. I shouldn't feel too bad, both Oreo and Whiskers (were he still with us) are 2 years old. That's about the average life expectancy for a rat. Its just they're such nice little friends, I hate to see them go. Brent helped console me over Whiskers, and my thanks to Kevin who sent me a nice card.

My weekend was a relatively pleasant one. I didn't actually accomplish anything of note. I didn't pay one bill, or wash my car, or visit my parents, or anything that might be considered a chore. I also wasn't out of town for a racing or skiing engagement. Instead, I was right here at home, relaxing.

Friday night, I went to a party at Julie's house. It was a farewell party for Renee, who has accepted a job in Napoli, Italia, and flies out this week. Julie, Renee, and all the guests were fellow volunteer Ski Tour Guides from the Ski Shop. We grilled a tri-tip steak, drank wine and champagne, and played video games (Playstation James Bond) until late into the night. After the party, I went over to Brent's house for the remainder of the night.

Brent and I spent Saturday relaxing together. We were going to see "Tomorrow Never Dies", since the video game put me in a James Bond mood, but the time for the show didn't work out. We ended up with a dinner invitation at Brian and Brian's house. Brian and Brian are two somewhat older guys (pushing 40) who were kind of my mentors when I first came out. They were the first actual gay people I met. Over the last four years they've been wonderful friends, helping me along and trying to fix me up with nice guys. They're much more involved with the local gay scene than I, so they know lots of people.

On the way to dinner with the Brians, I decided we should stop at Nielsen's Market in Carmel for a bottle of wine. I was looking for a particular Sauvignon Blanc that I wanted to introduce them to. Brent and I went in to find my old High School chum Pat working at the wine counter. (Nielsen's is a wonderful Epicurean market with Carmel's best wine selection and a well-educated wine staff.) I knew Pat worked there occasionally as he has become a well known local wine expert over the last few years.

Pat is more significant in my life than as a High School chum. His parents and my parents are very good friends and our families have known each other since I was five or six years old. Moreover, Brent also knows Pat's mother. It's a bit convoluted. Bear with me. My mother and Pat's mother worked for a nursing company called VNA. Brent also worked for VNA for two years and knew my mother in passing, and Pat's mother quite well. During the Holidays three years ago, Pat's mom threw a party to which I was invited as an old family friend and Brent was invited as a co-worker. That's how Brent and I met. Pat was there too, as were both my parents. I don't think any of the other guests noticed Brent and I flirting like crazy!

Anyways, back at Nielsen's Market I introduced Pat to Brent and made it fairly obvious we were together. Pat was never a close friend in High School, but he's mellowed out quite a bit since then and I actually like him these days. Heck, he helped me pick a great wine to take to the Brian's! He'd prolly heard all the silly high school rumors about me, so it was no great leap for him to find me with another guy. When we left, Brent asked Pat to say hi to his Mom for Brent. I'm hoping the story of Rob and Brent together gets back to Pat's Mom quickly, because then it will go on to my parents just as fast. Plays right into my goal of no longer preventing my parents from knowing I'm seeing someone. I wonder how long it will take to find out how fast word gets to my parents, and what they'll do with the information?

After that little adventure, the dinner was very nice. The Brian's enjoyed the wine (a Sanscere from France) and the story of meeting Pat at the shop. After dinner Brent and I went back to his house. We spent all of Sunday together, mostly lounging around. We read together for quite some time during the afternoon. In the evening, we curled up together and watched "The Fifth Element" on DVD. *Sigh*. What a pleasant weekend indeed.

Friday January 14th, 2000

I'm in the midst of planning my next big adventure. It's gonna cost a lot of money, so I've got to weigh all the possibilities and make damn sure that I get the most out of it for the price. Big adventures for me right now consist of traveling to mountains and attempting to climb them. I'd really like to get back to flying airplanes too. Unfortunately, I can't afford both. The airplanes are going to have to wait a little while longer. I need to get this climbing thing out of my system while I'm still young and crazy enough to do it.

I've only been climbing on two big mountains before. The physical labor of walking up steep snow at altitude is tough, but the biggest impediment I perceived on both trips was the objective physical danger. Things like rockfalls and avalanches are in this category. They'll kill you if they come down on you no matter how good a climber you are. They don't care. I remember the foremost thought in my mind as I descended a particularly avalanche-prone slope on the last day of my climb on El Dorado Peak, Washington, was "please just let me get off of this thing alive so I don't dissapoint Brent!" I felt quite afraid for my life at that point, like I was playing Russian Roulette with the mountain. But even then, I knew it wasn't the last time I would be in that situation. I wasn't done yet.

I don't know if I can explain the things that make me enjoy mountaineering despite the hazzards, but I'll try. One thing I can tell you that I don't enjoy is the objective risk. I think I'd have a much better time climbing if I had some sort of magic garauntee that avalanches could not harm me. Yes, there is a certain exhilaration to coming out of a risky situation like that alive, but it's a cheap thrill for so much at stake.

I like being self-sufficient in a hostile environment. For instance, I know first hand that if civilization breaks down it takes more than a full tank of gas and 10 liters of bottled water in the garage to survive. I like physically training hard for months and then putting my strength and endurance to the test on the mountain. I know my physical limits because I've been there. Really there, when my life depended on it. Most of all, I like being able to see some of the most wonderous sights on Earth, sights that most people will never see, as a reward for my skills and efforts. Mountaineering also gives me a difficult task which I can enjoy working on for years - physically training and aquiring technical skills to go to successively higher and more remote mountains.

The last two reasons for climbing are probably the most important to me. I've never been very self confident so I get a lot of gratification when I can accomplish something others can't. I crave respect in that sense. I know that's very small of me, but there it is. I like the feeling of having accomplished things that the average joe in the streets has not. I feel guilty about being so snobbish, but there it is. But the big reason I do these things isn't about that. It's about being there. And you can't know until you've been.

So, with all these thoughts in mind, I'm pondering a new adventure. My tentative target it the Alaska Range, north of Anchorage, AK. The climb I'm looking at would involve glacier travel training on the Kalhiltna Glacier, a review of snow and ice climbing, and then a summit climb on Kalhiltna Dome, or perhaps Mt. Crosson. The entire time I'd be staying on the glacier in the shadow of Denali, the United States' highest mountain at 20,320 ft. I'm not ready for a mountain that big yet, but climbing and training at it's foot will give me a big edge when I return to attempt it in a year or two.

For my progression as a climber and from an asthetic point of view, going to Alaska is a wonderful idea. However, the opportunity cost is high. The same money could get me back in the air with many hours of flight time and an instrument rating. I could travel to Europe and bum around for a while. I could invest it all and be richer when I'm old. The possibilities are endless. A week's time away from home doesn't seem like much compared to all the other longer term things I could do with the same money. I'll prolly go to Alaska anyways. You can cram a lot of living into six days when you're living it on the side of a big mountain - especially in Alaska.

Monday January 17th, 2000

Last night I came home from guiding a two-night skiing trip to Lake Tahoe. It was a fun trip, but tireing. Three other guides, John, Jon, and Mark, completed our little convoy of 4 vans carrying 10 customers each. One of the customers was my brother.

Things always get complicated for me where family members are involved. My brother is three years younger than me and lives with my parents. They drive him crazy, but I guess he can deal with it better. I couldn't live there again. Anyways, my brother found my old website two years ago and that's how I came out to him. There really hasn't been much change in our relationship. We're not particularly close becuase we have very different personalities. Nonetheless, we're not enemies at all either. We're downright allies when it comes to Mom and Dad. We don't do a lot of things together, but I was pleased when he said he wanted to go on one of my ski tours.

It was an opportunity for my brother to meet my friends and see how I interact socially. It was an opportunity for him to see me working hard at something I really love doing - guiding tours in difficult conditions (two feet of snow fell over the course of the two days we were in the Sierras). My sexual orientation is well known to my friends the other tour guides. They look upon it as an endearing affectation of mine. It's discussed openly quite often, and just as often is the source of the good-natured ribbing that is so common with a group of close-knit friends. I was a bit worried my brother might be put off by all that. My orientation is something that is *never* discussed among family anymore. It's treated as a dirty little secret.

I don't think my brother really has a problem with me being gay. I think he doesn't discuss it because he doesn't know how to approach the subject with me. Our family just never talks about anything intimate. We talk about the weather and stuff like that. Its safe. It certainly wasn't a problem on the ski trip. My friends toned it down a lot at first, they'd never met my brother before and probably didn't know if I was out to him or not. I don't explain things like that anymore. I assume everyone in the world knows I'm attracted to other guys and I don't have to play games with who knows and who doesn't. Once my friends figured that out, they were back to normal and my brother didn't seem to flinch.

In fact, I think my brother was rather impressed by the whole thing. He's really only known me as the kid he grew up with. He's never known me on my own. Just as my parents, he's never had the chance to see who I really am. Now that he has, I think he likes me more. He called me today just to say thanks for the trip. Quite out of character. I was pleased.

Wednesday January 19th, 2000

I've got to find some way of generating an income without having to spend eight hours a day in an office! I feel so pressed for time right now, and, as my job becomes less and less appealing it feels more and more like it is encroaching my limited time.

For instance, yesterday I didn't finish work until almost 6:00pm and managed to scramble up to the ski shop an hour late. I was supposed to be there shortly after 5:00 to clean, edge, and wax all the skis from last weekend's tour. After finishing at the shop at 7:00pm, I dashed across town to my parent's house to pick up some mail. I almost cancelled that appointment, but my parents have been calling about it for days. When I got there, I discovered they wanted to give me some gifts and souveniers from their trip to London and show me some pictures as well. I would like to have done that, but instead I had to hurt their feelings and dash out the door as I needed to be home by 7:30 pm to get a video tape going on a brand new PBS documentary about climbing Mt. Everest. Brent was scheduled to arrive at 8:00pm at my apartment for dinner too.

I'm going to have to reschedule more time with my parents later. I felt bad about leaving them seconds after they'd just loaded me up with a few cool souveniers. I just thought it was a grab the mail and go kind of thing. It would have been better if I could have worked at the ski shop during the day, met my parents in the early evening, and then had time for Brent and Mt. Everest later. I need a get rich quick plan so I don't have to waste so much time working on things that I don't care about for other people just to pay for a roof over my head. I certainly wouldn't be idle and wealthy. I'd be very busy with tour guiding and race officiating. I just can't get anybody to pay me a living wage for that kind of specialized work.

As a more practical solution, I'm looking for a new job that I hope won't feel like so much of a waste of time. I'm going to have to have a new job sometime this year in any case. Might as well start looking now. I'd really like to pack my bags and move to Seattle. I love it there! My research so far shows that there are probably more than a hundred current job openings there that I'm qualified for and would like in Seattle. There aren't any that I've found here in Monterey. The problem with all that is Brent can't move to Seattle for at least a few more years while he takes care of family business and completes his schooling. What to do?

Monday January 24th, 2000

The rain finally started coming down in force this weekend. It's been a bit of a draught year so far - the heavy rain is welcome. Of course, we'll probably be reading headlines about houses sliding down steep muddy slopes, but it's to be expected. To celebrate and fully enjoy the rain, Brent and I drove down to Big Sur on Saturday and stayed the night at a beautiful inn. The inn is tucked into a knoll in the coastal mountains and is quiet, rustic, and luxurious. We enjoyed some wine and cheese in the main lobby, then changed for dinner. The excellent dinner was served in the hotel restaurant which normally has a commanding view overlooking the Pacific, but on this stormy night all we could see was the nearby trees swaying in the wind. After dinner we walked back through the rain to our room and decided to go swimming.

The hotel's pool was well-heated, but outdoors. The walk to and from the pool was bitter, but the swimming was a lot of fun! Guys, if you've never been swimming with your boyfriend, you are missing out! It's one of the most fun things you can do with another guy and still have your clothes on (well, some of them anyways!). We frolicked and splashed and climbed all over each other like little kids. It exciting, fun and spiced with the mystery of being outside on a wild night. The rain falling on the water made a delicate ringing sound which enhanced the magical mood produced by the swirling steam rising from the pool. The warmth of the water allowed us play there for almost an hour, but the dash back to the room was a wet and chilly one. Fortunately, our room had it's own jaccuzzi/spa on a private deck overlooking the forest. We grabbed the bottle of leftover wine from dinner, went out on the deck, and jumped in the spa to warm up again. Except this time we didn't bother with the swimming suits! *VBG*

It was fun to be out tubbing, starkers, in the wind and rain, at least until we heard an odd noise. It was a squeeking/grunting/growling sound. First, we thought it might be the poeple in the next suite over doing something weird. Then we realized it was too weird for even that. It took another few minutes of listening before we figured out what it was. Wild pigs! There are a lot of wild bore around Big Sur and it seemed four or five of them were living under the deck of the next door room! Shortly after we figured out what was making all the noise, the pigs ran off into the woods leaving us alone again. By then it was after midnight and time for us to get back inside and dry off before bed.

The next day it was storming even harder. We slept in a while, then went to the lobby area for the breakfast buffet. After breakfast we just lounged around enjoying the ambiance until checkout time at 1:00 pm. The drive home was a bit dodgey with rocks sliding down the cliffs of Highway One onto the road, but we made it back to my little apartment by 2:00 pm. Brent and I decided to split up and get our chores done at our respective houses for the ballance of the day.

I had a lot of bill paying, cleaning, and laundry to do. On Tuesday I'll be leaving for 10 days at sea on a reseach expedition. It will be the standard fare for me, poking holes in the ocean and measuring temperature and salinity. We'll be working about 200 miles out, off the California coast between San Francisco and Big Sur. The cruise coincides with the annual Gray Whale migration, but most of the time we'll be too far out to sea to encounter many of them. Still, I hope to see a few.

Brent always misses me terribly during these trips. I don't miss him as much becuase I'm in a different environment at sea, one that he's never been a part of, so he's not missing from it. Brent will be back home, enduring his usual work/study routine, only without me there for company. I'll try to call him by mobile phone when we're in close enough. Its amazing how well mobile coverage works near the coast! Any of you readers who want to call me at sea can write and ask for the number, if you don't already have it.

I obviously won't be doing any real-time journal updates from the ship. I will be jotting things down as I think of them and they will take some kind of journal form on this site when I get back. I'll try to keep a few other journalers updated via e-mail (it goes by sattelite phone), so you might want to check in on some of the other journals of the 'community' and perhaps you can read a note or two about me.

Until then, I hope the ship (R/V MacAurthur) doesn't sink, or if it does that Jack is there to save me.