Tag: riceville

Vital Statistics

Bike miles in 2021: 0

Aches & pains: Neck (occasional but severe), shoulders

Current reading: Thing Explainer by Randall Munroe

Recent listening: Planet Money, YNAB podcast, This American Life

Recent viewing: Hit & Run, Lupin, Ted Lasso, CODA

Recent playing: Mini Metro+

Recent events: Class of 1985 reunion, Wapsi Days

Recently accomplished: Patched cement at my mom’s house, dosed cats, visited the Buddy Holly crash site

Imperative To Do: Contact kitchen contractor for warranty items, repaint picnic table, revisit roof replacement

Dive

I feel all the power and grace my non-athletic body will ever manage. I know I am a better swimmer than my peers and that is a great comfort.

The sun bakes the brown skin on my back. I peer through a knot hole at the water below. The warmth feels good but I’m not here for the sun. I’m here for the water.

I place my palms down on the gnarled wooden surface of the dock and hoist myself to my feet. I quickly look around to assess the situation: Who can I impress? Who should I avoid? Who might I frighten with a sneak attack?

I face the shore and stand on the edge of the dock plank, balancing on the balls of my feet. Hands at my sides I take a deep breath and fling myself into the space beyond the dock.

The water is barely six feet deep so the dive must be shallow. Shallow dives don’t allow for much finesse but as I jump, I sweep my arms outward until they meet above my head just before I hit the water. I feel graceful and superheroic never considering that I may look less so.

The water is cool and murky green. My older siblings won’t swim here and some friends level charges of “runoff” and “swimmer’s ear” but I never believe them. This is my habitat.

With eyes wide open I immediately glide to the sandy bottom. I take massive strokes with my arms, inverting the motion I used in the air moments before. My hands pass in front of my face each time I reposition my arms for a new stroke. I feel all the power and grace my non-athletic body will ever manage. I know I am a better swimmer than my peers and that is a great comfort.

I swim silently, slightly above the sand, with no other thoughts in my head but suppressing my desire for air. Eventually that desire will overpower me but I know I’m one step ahead of my future self. When at last I can take no more, I will begin the ascent to the surface, forced to continue swimming by virtue of my position at the bottom. This, I know, will give me an advantage in future underwater swimming contests, should they ever arise.

But none of that is necessary for this dive because the shore arrives before my air supply dwindles. I take one final stroke and glide into the shallow water where it is no longer possible to hide my awkward body from the world. When I can go no further, I raise my head above the surface, taking care not to stir the water unnecessarily or to make any gasping noises with my first breath.

I linger briefly in the shallow water, feeling my body float effortlessly while my belly rubs slightly against the sand. I revel in the moment. I know I belong here. I long for the rest of my life to be this effortless.

Dedicated to Mary Lou, 2016.08.21

Future programmers of America


Future programmers of America
Originally uploaded by rynosoft

This is a picture of my second grade class that appeared in our hometown newspaper, the Riceville Recorder. There were many more of us but I suppose they couldn’t all be in the picture with the newfangled computer they had us using. It was actually a teletype terminal that connected to a “mainframe” computer at Luther College in Decorah, IA (via an acoustic modem hookup). The terminal was kind of mounted on a dolly that let the teachers wheel it all around the school. We played Oregon Trail and a MasterMind knockoff called Bagels.

Road Trip 2010 revisited

Awhile back I wrote about a potential future road trip we might take in the summer of 2010. The intent was to visit family and see the sights along the way on a trip that encircled nearly all of the continental U.S. According to my calculations then, the trip would involve 16 days for just the driving, never mind time taken for family and recreation. Given the unlikelihood of having 4 weeks of vacation by next summer (I have about 2 days at this moment), here is a revised itinerary:

  1. Portland
  2. This 1326 mile length will take two days. Stopping point will likely be Salt Lake City.
  3. Colorado Springs (Tina’s dad, Leroy)
    378 miles/5.5 hours
  4. Albuquerque (Jan and Tom)
    1010 miles/14 hours
  5. Houston (home to Tina’s grandfather, TQ)
    354 miles/6 hours
  6. New Orleans (stopping in Baton Rouge to visit my nephew, Wally, for a few hours)
    546 miles/8 hours
  7. Jacksonville (stopping in Pensacola to visit cousin Beth)
    139 miles/2 hours
  8. Savannah (Mardy and Steve)
    765 miles/12 hours
  9. Cleveland (Rock and Roll Hall of Fame)
    344 miles/6 hours
  10. Chicago (various sights)
    377 miles/6.5 hours
  11. Riceville (stopping in Dubuque to visit my old friends, the Sunleafs
  12. This stretch of 1800 miles is a two or three day drive. Stopping points will be dynamic.
  13. Portland

That reduces the trip to 12 or 13 driving days. I would expect we would take extra days in Cleveland and Chicago and have all the equipment for your kids, although we could see the HOF in the morning and drive to Chicago in the evening. We’ll also need several days in Riceville for a probable family reunion.

Bicentennial Money

In 1976, I was in third grade when America celebrated her bicentennial. One aspect of that celebration was the minting of special bicentennial coins.



Bicentennial Money
Originally uploaded by rynosoft

In 1976, I was in third grade when America celebrated her bicentennial. One aspect of that celebration was the minting of special bicentennial coins. Anticipating that such coins would eventually be collectable and worth more than face value, I gave some of each denomination to my mother about 5000 dollar yahoo borrowing and asker her to place them in our safety deposit box at the First National Bank in Riceville. When I was back in Riceville in September, my mother handed me this envelope on which she had inscribed my name 30 years ago and said, “These are yours.” While it was cool to be reminded of something I had completely forgotten about, I was disappointed to find that they are not worth much more than face value.