Pioneers! O Pioneers!

Come my tan-faced children,
Follow well in order, get your weapons ready,
Have you your pistols? have you your sharp-edged axes?
Pioneers! O pioneers!

For we cannot tarry here,
We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,
We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

O you youths, Western youths,
So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Have the elder races halted?
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

All the past we leave behind,
We debouch upon a newer mightier world, varied world,
Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

We detachments steady throwing,
Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep,
Conquering, holding, daring, venturing as we go the unknown ways,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

We primeval forests felling,
We the rivers stemming, vexing we and piercing deep the mines within,
We the surface broad surveying, we the virgin soil upheaving,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Colorado men are we,
From the peaks gigantic, from the great sierras and the high plateaus,
From the mine and from the gully, from the hunting trail we come,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

From Nebraska, from Arkansas,
Central inland race are we, from Missouri, with the continental
blood intervein'd,
All the hands of comrades clasping, all the Southern, all the Northern,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

O resistless restless race!
O beloved race in all! O my breast aches with tender love for all!
O I mourn and yet exult, I am rapt with love for all,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Raise the mighty mother mistress,
Waving high the delicate mistress, over all the starry mistress,
(bend your heads all,)
Raise the fang'd and warlike mistress, stern, impassive, weapon'd mistress,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

See my children, resolute children,
By those swarms upon our rear we must never yield or falter,
Ages back in ghostly millions frowning there behind us urging,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

On and on the compact ranks,
With accessions ever waiting, with the places of the dead quickly fill'd,
Through the battle, through defeat, moving yet and never stopping,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

O to die advancing on!
Are there some of us to droop and die? has the hour come?
Then upon the march we fittest die, soon and sure the gap is fill'd.
Pioneers! O pioneers!

All the pulses of the world,
Falling in they beat for us, with the Western movement beat,
Holding single or together, steady moving to the front, all for us,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Life's involv'd and varied pageants,
All the forms and shows, all the workmen at their work,
All the seamen and the landsmen, all the masters with their slaves,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

All the hapless silent lovers,
All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked,
All the joyous, all the sorrowing, all the living, all the dying,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

I too with my soul and body,
We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way,
Through these shores amid the shadows, with the apparitions pressing,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Lo, the darting bowling orb!
Lo, the brother orbs around, all the clustering suns and planets,
All the dazzling days, all the mystic nights with dreams,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

These are of us, they are with us,
All for primal needed work, while the followers there in embryo wait behind,
We to-day's procession heading, we the route for travel clearing,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

O you daughters of the West!
O you young and elder daughters! O you mothers and you wives!
Never must you be divided, in our ranks you move united,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Minstrels latent on the prairies!
(Shrouded bards of other lands, you may rest, you have done your work,)
Soon I hear you coming warbling, soon you rise and tramp amid us,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Not for delectations sweet,
Not the cushion and the slipper, not the peaceful and the studious,
Not the riches safe and palling, not for us the tame enjoyment,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Do the feasters gluttonous feast?
Do the corpulent sleepers sleep? have they lock'd and bolted doors?
Still be ours the diet hard, and the blanket on the ground,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Has the night descended?
Was the road of late so toilsome? did we stop discouraged nodding
on our way?
Yet a passing hour I yield you in your tracks to pause oblivious,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Till with sound of trumpet,
Far, far off the daybreak call--hark! how loud and clear I hear it wind,
Swift! to the head of the army!--swift! spring to your places,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

- Walt Whitman

To Need or To Want

Dust off an old one...

To need or to want
Do not debate me
I said I needed you
You said you should be wanted

To need someone
Is to inherently want her
To want someone
Does not mean you need him

I need air to breathe
I need water to drink
I need what makes me live
I wanted what I needed

You wanted a new home
You wanted a new cause
You wanted a new persona
You wanted what you did not need

When you lectured me
Saying you shouldn’t be needed
But that you should be wanted
I knew I no longer needed you

Now
Answer me this
Do you still need what you want?
Or have you realized you want what you need?

Heaven and Earth

Come with me
I've seen where Heaven and Earth collide
Step lively
For the sun is hovering low

We walk a trail only I have tread
But each step is new
God willing
The view will not

I hear only my footsteps
I stop
Turning, hoping to see you following
You're not
Then I remember you're already there

I only see my shadow
Which is longer than my soul

Head down
I climb on
Short of breath
Almost at my end
Yet, pleased

There
In the distance
Heaven and Earth as one

And you
In the foreground
Expecting
Holding our son
Waiting for me to come back to you

Is it hope?
Is it pain?
I fear in the waning light
They may both be the same

Friday Field Trips

Starting this week, I am working enough hours before our kids wake up, so I can take Fridays off to help out at home and spend more time with the family. Those who know me, realize that I am not a morning person. So dragging myself out of bed at 5 am without waking anyone is something I need to grow in to. They say it takes 3 weeks to start a habit, so check back with me in two weeks.

Anyways, with 40 hours of work done in 4 days, I will now get Fridays off. Maybe once in a while, I will take up Mike's offer to go fishing at Falls Lake, but what I really want to do is start Friday Field Trips. Since Kendal is no longer in day care, I think it is good for all of us to get out, enjoy the scenery and maybe teach our kids some interesting topics. I know they are way too young to understand much of anything, but I hope they will enjoy the time out and about.

So, I'm using this post to solicit ideas (free is best). So far, I've come up with the museums in downtown Raleigh, the Occoneechi Village in Hillsborough, Meadoc Mountain State Park, and much to Analee's chagrin, Bennett Place in Durham. If you've got any other suggestions, let me know and I'll add them to the list.

Educational is best, with a healthy mixture of indoor and outdoor fun. Currently, it is too hot to spend much time outside, so I need to start thinking of indoor activities.

PS - Morehead Planetarium at UNC... (this may be a good one for this upcoming hot Friday!), the Zoo (free for us), Hillridge Farms, Duke Gardens, NCSU Arboretum, Lake Wheeler Park, NCSU Insect Museum, Duke Homestead, Eno River State Park...

A Brief Essay on the History of Modern Baseball Card Collecting

I posted this originally on my sister-blog: http://bbcrecollections.blogspot.com/

Note: For the purposes of this commentary, the term modern shall represent the Topps Era from 1952 until present.

I was born in the winter of 1975, and my father preceded me in January of 1940. At the impressionable ages of 12, we both stood on the precipice of two major eras in the history of baseball card collecting, the years 1952 and 1987. My father witnessed the dawn of the hobby: the birth of Topps; the emergence of Mickey Mantle; the pure innocent joy of collecting. I on the other hand, retrospectively bore witness to the sunset of the hobby: the market saturation; the price guide; the business of collecting. Both of our childhoods were filled with the love of the game, and its illustration on a printed piece of cardstock. However, our perceptions of cards were tragically divergent; where his focus was on the card itself and mine was on the card as well, but also its worth.

In my opinion, this assigning a monetary value to a childhood memento is responsible for the death of baseball card collecting, and I place blame directly on my father’s generation. However, I believe my generation, through the use of responsible free trade and proper direction, is capable of resurrecting the hobby for our progeny’s enjoyment. To do this, I maintain we must understand our errors.

In the infancy of modern baseball card collecting, the cards served as a primary means of delivering the relative novelty of stick chewing gum. While chewing gum had been used prior to 1952 by the likes of Goudey Gum Co. and Bowman Gum, Inc., cards were previously distributed with tobacco products, a decidedly non-kid friendly product. With the introduction of the 1952 Topps trading cards, the market began the trend of focusing on children using cards with vibrantly colorful fronts depicting their diamond heroes, statistic and biographical data laden backs, all wrapped in wax and served with a stick of bubble gum for the reasonably low price of 5 cents per pack. To me, I cannot think of any product prior to baseball cards that was intentionally marketed to children, save for candy, and with the advent of television around the same time period, the conditions were ripe for the modern baseball card industry to begin.

Over the next two decades, there was little change in the world of baseball cards. Even the price of a pack remained at 5 cents for nearly 20 years, until prices were raised to 10 cents per pack in the late 1960s. The only change of significance was that sets became larger; consequently more series were introduced. From 1952 to 1973, cards were typically issued in 132 card series over the course of the baseball season. Due to this marketing method, we are faced with our first signs of supply and demand in the baseball card world. As the baseball season headed toward the pennant race, the final series released tended to not sell as well as the release’s earlier series, thus Topps printed fewer cards (or destroyed them). Since public demand was lessened, supply was reduced accordingly to maintain the market price (5 to 10 cents), and to prevent a market surplus.

In 1974, the standard set was now printed in one single series, thus eliminating the short supply issue of previous year’s sets. For the remainder of the decade prices increased slightly, until 1981 when the market was expanded to include two new brands, Fleer and Donruss. With the market now supporting three brands, the supply increased two-fold and the demand apparently increased accordingly until the beginning of what is now commonly referred to as the Bad or Junk Wax Era.

In the mid-1980s, the baseball card collecting world began to feel the effects of the first generation of collectors from the 50s and 60s, now referred to as Baby Boomers. I surmise that these past collectors, who now had sources of disposable income, were trying to recapture their past. As many children had done, their baseball cards were loved to the point of ruin, which in my opinion is the badge of a good baseball card. Cards were used in flipping games, placed in bicycle spokes, glued to paper, tucked in back pockets, marked on and rearranged to reflect a favorite player’s new team, and usually ultimately thrown out when the child left home. Yet, sometime in the mid to late 80s, cards were no longer played with and stored in shoe boxes wrapped in rubber bands, they were stored in acid-free, UV protective plastic sleeves preventing damaging oils from children's fingertips ruining the cards...

Now armed with financial prowess, memories of childhoods long gone and a desire to escape the ever complicating world, I think the Boomers tried to evoke their faded pasts by recollecting their old heroes. This influx of demand and money, coupled with the shortening supply of older cards due to wear and tear, trash can happy mothers and short printed series, sent the value of vintage cards skyward. With this new market of vintage card collecting came the arrival of the price guide and dealers. Essentially baseball cards became a private or capitalistic commodity, sold not through department stores and pharmacies, but through entrepreneurs catering solely to baseball card collectors through shows and storefront businesses.

Not coincidentally, I think the manufacturers (i.e., Donruss, Fleer and Topps) noticed the increased demand and influx of capital into the hobby, and began to overproduce their products to supply the dealers, thus creating a draining market surplus. Shortly thereafter, the market again increased with the introduction of Score in 1988 and Upper Deck in 1989, as well as smaller brands like Sportsflics, etc.

With the launch of Upper Deck, I think many collectors unfairly blame the company for the ruin of the hobby due to their use of premium card stock, glossy finish and holograms. While it is true that other manufacturers developed spinoff products to compete with Upper Deck, such as Topp’s Stadium Club, Donruss’ Leaf, Fleer’s Ultra and Score’s Pinnacle, thus drastically increasing the base price of cards while outpacing the demand with a vast surplus of products, it is my opinion that the private monetization of baseball cards is what put the hobby on its deathbed.

Finally, in 1994, the MLB strike effectively killed the hobby, and in some ways created conditions for a rebirth. After The Strike, demand waned considerably, and manufacturers accordingly reduced their set sizes, but did not reduce their wide variety of products. In response to the diminished interest, card companies began to diversify their products even more and focused on niche markets. No longer could a collector vie solely for a hand collated base set because now packs included inserts, such as “upgraded” base versions, relics and game-used materials. With these premium inserts and fancier base cards, prices outpaced those a child could afford. Long gone were the days of 5, 10, 50 or even 75 cent packs. Packs now sold in the 2 to 5 dollar range for 5 or 6 cards, thus effectively ending the hobby for children to reasonably amass a collection. Only the die hard adult collectors with disposable income can safely wade through these troubled waters.

Thus, this finally brings me to the end. Money, greed and private capitalism turned an innocent hobby from a child’s game to an adult industry. Yet, I still see a glimmer of hope for my children. I firmly believe changes are on the horizon. Online auctions have begun the change from capitalism to free market trade, straight trading appears to be coming back due to blogs and message boards, and the manufacturers have been reduced to two (Topps and Upper Deck) thus reducing the gluttony of products. While I will not hold my breath waiting for the insane number of parallel sets, inserts and relics to disappear, I have hope affordable base sets will be in our near future. If not, I have plenty of old cards to help my children build sets from, and I am more than willing to help fellow collectors finish their dreams.

If I learned anything from the demise of the baseball card industry, it is that a baseball card is only monetarily worth what someone else will pay for it, yet its personal worth is priceless.

Doc T

Autumn Moon

Of late, my dreams have been extremely vivid and I have been remembering every detail. Last night, I dreamed of strolling through a field with Analee very late in our lives, and while we walked hand in hand, I recited a poem to her:

Autumn Moon

In the light of the Autumn Moon
Your heart spoke to me
Whispered sweet secrets of a future
Beyond outstretched fingers
Yearning for a home
Where we reaped a harvest
Of smiles and giggles
From mouths that would one day
Be haggard and worn
When we were but a branch of a tree
With our memories long forgotten
Yet I will remember where to find you
Beneath the light of the Autumn Moon

Introspective Essays: Part 1 - The Hatchling

Recent conversations with Ana have had me reflecting as to whom I am, and how I got to where I am. These following essays are my contributions to a better understanding of myself, my past, my future and my interpretation of the human condition. Please note this will likely be a deep insight into my heart and mind that no one, save a select few, have ever heard. I doubt this will be pretty and may be surprising to some, but I’ve learned through much introspection that I do not care what I perceive others think.

Disclaimer: By no means is my story to be taken as advice, only a guide to help individuals make their own decisions. In order to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent alike, names will not be used.

Part I – The Hatchling

After a first semester at Purdue University that had me dating several young women, from an obsessive, to an old flame who was like an unyielding pilot light in a wind-swept furnace, to an unbeknownst-to-me engaged upperclassman, I found myself exactly where I began my first days of college, alone. In February of 1995, and in the never ending pursuit of fulfilling the desires of a young man, I met, through a matter of coincidence and happenstance, a young woman, L.

L was a breath of fresh air to me, as she was different than any other woman I had ever dated before. We both had similar personalities, senses of humor and intellectual interests. I could venture to say that for the two of us it was instant puppy love. After several nights of endless conversation and little sleep, we soon found ourselves to be an item as the second semester was quickly ending.

In retrospect, as the summer-break loomed, this ideally should have been the end of our relationship. I say this as we were both very young with a world full of opportunities that lay in front of us, but I believe we were blinded by the sense of being wanted. We were succumbed to the ever powerful lure of teenagers in love.

As summer came, I left for an internship in Los Angeles and L stayed in Indiana. Thus we diligently and religiously kept in contact over that summer to preserve that young flickering flame. When I returned for my sophomore year, we quickly picked up where we had physically left off the year prior. While the fall semester progressed we became more inseparable, to the point where our friends felt slighted and my individuality became blurred.

Soon, I fell into my crutch-like ways of depending on L to guide the ship and I following her footsteps.

(For back story, I surmise that I basically went to Purdue because my father and brother had gone there. In my mind, Purdue was the only option and in reality, I had applied only there and Rose Hulman as a back-up. This was regardless of the academic scholarships I had received from New Mexico State University and Penn State University. And as I entered Purdue’s College of Engineering, I was required to declare my intended major of Chemical Engineering, which trail had already been blazed by my brother.)

Early in my second year, I learned that Chemical Engineering was not suited for me, or vice versa. In hindsight, I am amazed that I personally decided to leave that academic field for my own reasons, yet I am not surprised that I quickly relied on L to find my new calling of Civil/Environmental Engineering. (As an aside, I am truly interested in the field of Environmental Engineering, but perhaps as I frequently realize due to job related challenges, it is not my calling – this will likely be expounded upon in Part 3). So, it could be coincidence or my flaw of following that I ended up in the field I still practice today.

In addition to my changes in academics, I eventually began to lose my own extracurricular persona. Being smitten and eager to spend as much time with L, I joined many social and service groups that she either already belonged to or was thinking about joining. In essence, I was tailoring my beliefs and personality to fit someone else’s agenda.

I now recognize that my actions were wrong, and that part of the relationship was completely my fault. Altering one’s self to be more “attractive” to one’s partner is not how a relationship should be based. Your partner should take you as you are, therefore I shouldn’t have changed myself to maintain the relationship. I should have left the relationship to maintain my identity (This thought will likely be played again in Part 2, but from my interpretation of another’s point of view – as an FYI, I’ve learned a lot by letting those I’ve loved go, and by being the loved one that was let go).

Eventually, another summer had passed, and then it almost seemed like we spent more time apart than together. For a few summers, I was interning in Los Angeles, and L became part of a cooperative program where she was working in Indianapolis for a semester, then in school the next, etc. Although we had been dating for almost three years, I would suspect the last two years we were only physically together for at most half that time.

If it wasn’t for my need to be wanted, and not to be alone or “looking”, I don’t think the relationship would have survived. I believe we both functioned well without each other because to me there was always that feeling of security because I had a “relationship net” to catch me if I fell. And since we did not see each other often, when we were together, our times were great. It was like we were catching up, reconnecting or cramming lost time into a finite space.

Using this on-again, off-again method, I believe we extended our relationship far longer than it should have lasted, which eventually became my personal downfall. Graduation was coming and the deep dark abyss of the future was looming large on the horizon. To be honest, I was scared to death of what I was going to do after graduation. I had nary a clue of what I wanted to pursue, so I fell on my fatal flaw, I turned to footsteps that had gone before me.

My father and brother had both attended graduate school, so that became a given for me. My next action on an August evening in 1997 signaled the worst singular decision I have ever made in my life (Yet, in a cause and effect way, it has eventually led to my greatest triumphs…). Desperate to avoid venturing into the unknown post-graduate world alone, and what seemed like taking the next logical step in a relationship, I asked L to marry me (My brother had married a lovely woman at a young age, why couldn’t I?). L gleefully accepted and an unstoppable force was soon set into motion that neither of us could derail until it came crashing down in an unfathomably painful end.

At that time, I thought I had figured it all out and that I was the envy of all my peers. I knew my career path and I had a fiancé, but in reality, I hadn’t made these choices because I let the situation choose me. I was too frightened to end a long term relationship, so I asked her to marry me. I was too scared of the post-graduate unknown, so I let my father, brother and L’s choices lead the way.

Both L and I decided to attend graduate school, and after graduation, I moved down south to attend Texas A&M for my master’s, while L finished up her bachelor’s degree due to her co-op work (I was offered positions at Clemson, Texas, Texas A&M and Purdue, and how much do you want to bet that A&M was not my first choice?). Yet again, L and I were separated by a vast distance, but this time our communication was no longer as diligent as our early love days.

While in Texas, I met a lot of people. Some good guys, some questionable. Some nice women, and some unbelievable beautiful ones. For the first time in a long time, I had a good time alone, but there was always my safety net. Before long, the wedding day was fast approaching. Soon winter break was upon us, and I was in Indiana for our wedding day. When L and I met again, I couldn’t quite place it at the time, but it just didn’t seem right. I think both of us knew subconsciously that this was a bad idea, but like I said, the unstoppable forces were in motion. Invitations had been sent, dresses hemmed, reception halls booked and meals catered. A lot of non-refundable money had been spent and I thought I needed my safety net, so to my mind, the dye had been cast.

L and I were wed on December 27, 1998 rather spectacularly with the church adorned in Christmas regalia; however, frankly, I remember little or none of the actual day. After a much underutilized honeymoon to the south coast of Spain (Malagá, Fuengirola, etc. – My word would I like to relive that trip!), we began our married life deep in the heart of Texas. Like most young couples, I think we experienced the tribulations that were to be expected. What I did not expect was the vast difference of how it used to be with us seeing each other in cycles, to us seeing each other every day. This leads to my firm belief that all engaged couples need to live together for at least 6 months, regardless of perceived religious beliefs and feelings from parents (That alone probably would have woken L and I up to the fierce reality of our relationship).

To dull a razor sharp knife I sometimes still feel in my back, I will politely redact most of the end of my and L’s relationship. To be brief, L chose a unilateral course to end our marriage with no regard to how I felt. There was no counseling, no opportunity for me to voice my opinions; she ended the marriage on her terms alone.

In conclusion of Part 1, L and I had plenty of good times during our 5 ½ year relationship, and when I remember L, I choose to remember those times, and not the times that drew the final curtain.

To which I ask, should we have married? I would respond a resounding no. Was it all her fault? No, I share responsibility for not following my head and heart, and yielding to guilt, perception and my inherent desire to not be a failure.

Yet, I learned a lot about myself, relationships and overall human nature from our marriage, which next led to my unprecedented period of independence and self reliance that inexcusably and somewhat inevitably brought me right back to my fatal flaws.