Well, it is with great pleasure that I look forward to loading up the car this evening, armed with one bag of clothes, my GF, my dog, a thermos of coffee and a block of Tilamook white cheddar cheese and pointing it east. We'll travel the Columbia Gorge towards Pendleton and once we get there, we'll take a southerly route towards Boise, Idaho. From here, it'll be further east passing by Salt Lake City Utah and then into Wyoming and finally coming to a rest some 20 hours later in Denver, Colorado.
I made a promise to myself when I moved out to Oregon, that I'd get out and truly experience the wonder and the glory of the fabled American West, but driving 20 hours straight to get to Denver doesn't really qualify. Granted, we'll be passing through some pretty areas, but most likely these will all look the same in the dark. Actually, I'm kinda of dreading the long drive, but looking forward to it all at the same time. The trip isn't really about going to Denver, it's about the "trip", it's about spending some quality time with the GF, it's about getting to see some family, and it's about picking up something I've had my eye on for a really long time.
Which... leaves me to this:
For those of you not in the know, the above images are from Cincinnati's Crosley Field, which was home of the Reds from 1912 - 1970. It was constructed during the great era of steel and concrete ballparks like Wrigley Field, Yankee Stadium and Fenway Park. During the years Crosely was in use, it saw many great games and memorable moments in baseball history. For example, during the Great Depression, with baseball attendance at an all time low, Cincinnati installed lights and hosted the Philadelphia Phillies in the first ever professional baseball night game. That date was May 24th 1935 and President Franklin D. Roosevelt had the distinction of pressing a button that lit up Crosley Field for the game.
So you might ask, what does that have to do with Denver?
Here's the thing, I'm gay.... or at least that's what society tells me should identify with. Or better yet, if I want - I can pick from a whole other alphabet of GLBT friendly letters. But the truth of the matter is, I don't identify with "the gay" other than the fact that the person I love happens to be the same sex as I am and well, a majority of my friends happen to fit that bill as well. Basically... I don't identify with being gay more than I identify as a person who has a pinky toe or pays taxes. It's just one layer and one aspect of the awesomeness that is jennlevo. I am a lot of things. I am an artist, an athlete, an outdoors woman, a dog owner, a sister, a daughter, a friend, etc. Not one thing is bigger than the sum of it's parts.
Growing up, I never really felt ashamed of who I was or unloved. I never felt overly bullied or harassed. I never considered myself closeted or out about my sexuality. I never once considered ending my life because society didn't understand or accept me. It just is what it is.
I understand the plight that people go through and the drama surrounding "the ordeal" and I believe, that yeah... things do get better, but I think half of that is due to just getting out of high school and or early college. In fact, I think polls will find that the majority of people out there hate high school, gay or straight or member of the mathletes or jazz band; high school and school in general is a bitch. There are some people who choose to stay in an everlasting highschool and surround themselves with those people and those tiny mindsets for the rest of their life... and for everyone else who doesn't fit that bill.... I will say that it does gets better. Once you go out and make your life the life you want it to be, regardless of some preconceived norm of how you should live, it gets better.
So basically, it doesn't matter who you love, it doesn't matter who you spend your time googling, it doesn't matter how you identify or how you hide... just go out there and live the life you want to.
Thats my message to everyone on this National Coming Out Day.
Oh and ps.... I hate rainbows and most "pride themed events" scare me.
There is a section in every cross race I've done so far, that is normally dry or flat and I can happily throw down a hammer or two. Riding hard and fast - passing a lot of people and feeling accomplished. And then... well, there is that other 80% of the race that normally requires me to get off the bike and haul it through several inches of deep sticky mud; thereby sucking my momentum and allowing half of the race to pass me. It is masochistic, humiliating and I wonder for the love of God, why I am doing it. I push myself to barely trot along, all the while digging myself out of mud and cleaning it out of my eye for the 16th hundred time.
It is in the mud that I find myself longing for those those flat, dry sections. In fact, I look forward to those flat dry sections around every mucky dirty bend. Sadly though, by the third lap I realize there are not enough of those flat dry sections to make a difference and I start to get discouraged about the mud and myself.
I mean don't get me wrong, I enjoy the mud... but not really.
Honestly, I like going fast and for me, riding through this muddy shit and carrying my bike is just against everything I love about racing.
It is at that moment, I have a minute of heightened sense of clarity: I love bike racing enough to hate it.
Granted, that might not make any sense at all... but I realized that by halting my speed and keeping my forward progress to a bare minimum, that I really really love going fast (and riding in circles) and I am good at that. I discovered that by putting myself in the most horrible conditions I can imagine, counterintuitive to everything I enjoy, that I can appreciate what I really really love even more. That, and I love a good challenge... and cross is just that, a challenge. As well, I can feel the humility in sucking ass at things that other people excel in. I mean, we can't all be awesome at everything (well, not most of us anyways).
Oh summer time, I look forward to your next season. I look forward to your warm days and your dry pavement and your fast laps. I look forward to a place where I can go as fast as I want to and I never have to slow down or lose momentum because of mud.
I mean don't get me wrong, I enjoy the mud ... but I like going fast more.
After my cross race last weekend at Alpenrose... I had a few friends ask afterwards if my jaw got sore after my race? I scratched my head at their questions not really understanding what they were referring to... I mean, I was sore in several places... but I hadn't fallen on my face or anything, so I just didn't get it.
Then I saw a few photos from the race and it came very clear what they were referring to:
So, apparently I have a "game face".... which, under further examination looks to be most similar to this:
You can just start calling me "piranah" from now on.
More than anything, one of my favorite topics to write about is hypocrisy in advertising. Most recently, I’ve been irked about the latest advertising campaign from W+K and Levis Jeans called “Ready To Work”. In this campaign, Levis celebrates the average American blue collar worker, you know... the people who built America and made it the great place it is today.
Ideally, it makes sense right? What is more “American” and iconic than Levis jeans? Long the chosen affordable brand of those who punch the time clock, work hard, sweat hard, and know the value of a dollar on a days work, Levis has collaborated with the people from the dilapidated rust belt town of Braddock, PA to celebrate “work” and “iconic heritage work wear”. Levis features the Braddock citizens in their marketing campaign which includes TV ads, print, film, website, etc. In return the folks from Braddock get their mugs in advertisements, they get written about in GOOD magazine (which is actually a paid product placement articles on behalf of Levis), they get some respect from the average consumer that sees the ads and thinks... “Yeah, the people of Braddock... they are hard working, just like me.” On top of all of that, Levis is even helping the town by donating money to the local library, community center and urban farm.
Seems like a pretty good deal eh?
However, the irony with all of these these “classic american icon” articles of clothing is that they are not your standard affordable prices for the “hard working American”. No, they are fashion items made to appeal to the current hipster or seemingly recent trend of blue collar “chic” aka: heritage brands. Take for example the classic Levis Trucker denim jacket, on average it will cost you $80. Or... if you want the one that is apparently more of homage to the “respect for heritage workwear, heirloom quality and tradition” be willing to shell out $280. Jeans? Well, according to the Levis website, no pair of jeans under the basic Levis label is actually less than $44. Now, by no means am I impoverished - my family has done pretty well for ourselves, but I come from an impoverished rural area. The majority of the folks in my small Southern Ohio hometown are as about as hard working and yet down on their luck as the people of Braddock PA and you know what... the majority of my community does most of their shopping at Wal Mart. This means that at most, the average price that hard working american is willing to pay for their denim staple is $20.
Oh, and did I forget to mention that that “heirloom quality” jacket (which pays homage to the hard working American) is imported? As in.... not even made in America? That’s the second piece of irony here; Levis closed their last American plant in 2003 and since, all Levi’s items have been made outside of the USA. You know, if Levis really wanted to help and support the people of Braddock Pennsylvania, they could do more than feature them in advertisements, blogs and donate money to the local library and community center. No, if Levis really cared about the people of Braddock and the hard working American down on their luck... they could put a factory there and give the people jobs. Because we all know that another trend will come along and people will forget the ads, and then where are the people of Braddock? Still in the same slump... their 15 minutes of fame over and guess what, they still have to put food on the table and provide for their family.
Another funny thing is, apparently all over America you can find these ads and billboards that have "Levis" and then "Braddock, PA" listed under the slogan; which ideally, makes most people think that the jeans are being made in Braddock. However,a trip to Braddockproves that Levis doesn't even try to make people think there is a new industry in town... no where in Braddock can you find a billboard that has Braddock and Levis on it.
Basically it all comes down to this.... if Levis really cared enough to celebrate the American work ethic and the American worker, they could actually just make their jeans in America.
Anyone who knows me pretty well knows that I've been a Cincinnati Reds fan since way back.
And when I say waay back, I mean... from the time I knew what baseball was... I listening to Joe Nuxhall and Marty Brennaman call the game on 700 WLW. The sound of their voices became synonymous with the sound of summer. Baseball was summer. Reds baseball was where it was at.
As a small child, I remember being dropped off at my babysitters house in the morning and as she made breakfast for the rest of her family, her husband and I would sit down on the sofa and watch all the game highlights on ESPN. When I started collecting baseball cards, my biggest collection of cards were always from the home town team, the Reds. I grew up wanting to slide into home plate headfirst like Pete Rose and wear glasses just like Chris Sabo. My first actual live major league baseball game was a double header and my parents will happily tell the story that they thought I would be bored out of my mind by the fourth inning of game one, but it turns out I would hardly leave my seat to use the bathroom even once in all 18 innings. I was jealous when my neighbor went to the game in an early September evening in 1985 where Pete Rose broke Ty Cobb's all time hits record. I was there on that rainy night when the Red's clinched the Division in their magical Wire to Wire 1990 season. As a 6th grader I won 3rd place in a speed pitching contest at Riverfront and received an actual Starter warm up jacket just like the Reds wore in the dugout. One of the best birthday gifts ever was when the Reds picked up Ken Griffey Jr. from the Mariners in 2000. And probably my all time favorite memory of the Reds was getting to sit in the blue field level seats for the first time, right along the 3rd baseline, first row and at some point in the 3rd inning, Kevin Mitchell handed me a foul ball (they were playing the Phillies). I don't think from that point on I remember anything else about that game... but I still have that ball.
Basically, my history is intertwined with moments from the Reds. Granted, I may have never known the Big Red Machine of the 1970's.... but I was there for the Reds from 1980 on. So, it is with great joy that I congratulate the Reds on their regular season wins and I look forward with eager anticipation to the post season. Regardless of how RED OCTOBER treats the boys of the Nati, I thank them more than they can imagine for giving the people in Cincinnati a reason to be excited.
For you my internet friends I'll post a sneak peak of the print I made for the show:
To see the rest of the awesomeness... get your tail end down to the ACE Hotel this coming Thursday, Oct 7th from 5-11pm to see the rest of the print and everybody else's (35 or so). Oh, and seeing how this is a bike themed event, you should probably ride your bike there.
Oh and as well.... because this is Portland, there will be plenty of beer there too (now you really want to go, I can tell).
I enjoy grocery shopping. In fact, my favorite things are free food samples and when a song I love comes over the grocery store radio. I think that everyone needs a theme song and that everyone should be given free rolls of toilet paper when they get their taxes back. I like sweeping my floor but I hate doing the dishes. I love phrases of speech like "painfully shy", "disarmingly beautiful" and the word "threadbare". I'm a great gatherer of firewood, maker of bonfires and jumper of rope. Basically, I see every day as a "Choose Your Own Adventure" story and try to steer clear from any theme park or packaged experience in life.
