Ok, so this goes without saying, but I have been eagerly awaiting this day. What day is that? you ask; well, it is the day when my wife ascends from just being my life partner to being my dive buddy. That's right, I said it. Anyway, I wanted to share this day with everyone else, because there is nothing like the excited nervousness that one feels before their first dive. So I took this opportunity to show from beginning to end what a dive looks like. You will see Heidi for most of the video, but there are a couple of guest appearances by Heidi's dive instructor Josh Childress and Bud, the first mate of the Olympus (dive boat), and I am wearing the camera, however, because I am narcissistic, I made sure to slip some video of myself in there. And for all you KD ladies who tune in to "Oscar's New Neighbors," be watching for the sweet nautilus shell that was found during Heidi's first dive and the hand signal that follows. The video is long enough so I will keep this short. I hope you enjoy and please comment. And please excuse the poor editing in transitions, I am dealing with basic video editing software and this is my first video, so please be gracious. I am having trouble getting the following link to post as a link, so you will probably have to copy and paste. Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HacN-Xu-DVg
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Lion Fish & Sand Tigers & BARR-acuda....oh my!
The title is slightly misleading because one barracuda is all I saw of those three creatures today. However, on any given day I could see any one of those three things, and it made for a better title, that is if you get the reference. I did get to see quite a few fish and a large stingray.
The main objective of the dive was to see the German Submarine U-352 (click on link to see pictures).
Before coming to North Carolina I had not been on any wreck dives, and wreck diving brings with it a very surreal sensation. As you descend the anchor line, trying to peer through the slightly hazy visibility, searching for a ship that you have only seen pictures of, you are overcome with a weird mixture of emotion consisting of overwhelming excitement and yet total calm that is only achieved in a sport like scuba diving where you are filled with anticipation, but there is literally no other sound to be heard through the medium of water except for your own breath creeping up in air pockets around your ears as it seems to dance toward the surface. Then, as you reach a depth of 70 feet, the submarine begins to appear out of the haze, and it slowly takes shape; it almost seems to be floating toward you like a ghost ship instead of you approaching it. Then as you reach the hull at 100 feet and you place your hands on a piece of history that is slowly deteriorating and also perfectly preserved by nature for her own purposes, you are reminded that redemption is possible. To see a machine of destruction and death subdued and rehabilitated into a source of life for any sea creatures who choose to make this home. Designed and built for the sole purpose of bringing death, this idle machine has no choice but to support life. It is easy to see that after we have eliminated this planet's ability to support the human race, mother nature will softly and slowly intercede and begin to reform what we have built into something new and supportive of all life.
Then, after twenty minutes of exploring the wreck, which is all the time my computer allows for that depth on the enriched air that I was breathing, i give my dive buddy the signal to ascend. Once aboard the boat, I quickly chuck my gear and begin hurling over the starboard side. That's right, I began feeling seasick before ever entering the water, and I fought the urge to vomit the entire dive, but I could suppress my stomach's heaving no longer; so I gracefully embraced the inevitable and gripped the handle on the side of the boat and gave it hell. We still had an hour boat ride to the next dive site, where I really wanted to go because I was hunting for sand dollars for our friends Emma and Anna. So during that miserable hour I lay inside the boat with my face covered thinking about how I would recount the dive on here. Then, despite how I was feeling, entered the water again at the next dive site. The seasick feeling did not surrender until we were back on stable ground unfortunately; however, even if I knew I was going to be sick the entire day, I still would have gone on the dives; it was completely worth it.
So if diving sounds like something you could get into based on this account, seasickness and all, then get your certifications and come on out, I give my word that it will be worth it.
Is that something or is it nothing?
chadwick
The main objective of the dive was to see the German Submarine U-352 (click on link to see pictures).
Before coming to North Carolina I had not been on any wreck dives, and wreck diving brings with it a very surreal sensation. As you descend the anchor line, trying to peer through the slightly hazy visibility, searching for a ship that you have only seen pictures of, you are overcome with a weird mixture of emotion consisting of overwhelming excitement and yet total calm that is only achieved in a sport like scuba diving where you are filled with anticipation, but there is literally no other sound to be heard through the medium of water except for your own breath creeping up in air pockets around your ears as it seems to dance toward the surface. Then, as you reach a depth of 70 feet, the submarine begins to appear out of the haze, and it slowly takes shape; it almost seems to be floating toward you like a ghost ship instead of you approaching it. Then as you reach the hull at 100 feet and you place your hands on a piece of history that is slowly deteriorating and also perfectly preserved by nature for her own purposes, you are reminded that redemption is possible. To see a machine of destruction and death subdued and rehabilitated into a source of life for any sea creatures who choose to make this home. Designed and built for the sole purpose of bringing death, this idle machine has no choice but to support life. It is easy to see that after we have eliminated this planet's ability to support the human race, mother nature will softly and slowly intercede and begin to reform what we have built into something new and supportive of all life.
Then, after twenty minutes of exploring the wreck, which is all the time my computer allows for that depth on the enriched air that I was breathing, i give my dive buddy the signal to ascend. Once aboard the boat, I quickly chuck my gear and begin hurling over the starboard side. That's right, I began feeling seasick before ever entering the water, and I fought the urge to vomit the entire dive, but I could suppress my stomach's heaving no longer; so I gracefully embraced the inevitable and gripped the handle on the side of the boat and gave it hell. We still had an hour boat ride to the next dive site, where I really wanted to go because I was hunting for sand dollars for our friends Emma and Anna. So during that miserable hour I lay inside the boat with my face covered thinking about how I would recount the dive on here. Then, despite how I was feeling, entered the water again at the next dive site. The seasick feeling did not surrender until we were back on stable ground unfortunately; however, even if I knew I was going to be sick the entire day, I still would have gone on the dives; it was completely worth it.
So if diving sounds like something you could get into based on this account, seasickness and all, then get your certifications and come on out, I give my word that it will be worth it.
Is that something or is it nothing?
chadwick
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Best Haircut of My Life
Up to this point in my life, getting a haircut has been one of those activities that has been merely endured. No longer, however, will a haircut be something that I will put off. For I have found a place that goes beyond simply taking my money and providing the minimum of service that is required. No, this gem that I have stumbled upon provides a full experience; surpassing a mere exchange of goods and services and inviting one into a community event, small though it may be, to share and laugh and listen. The story goes like this:
Because I cut my hair simply with a pair of clippers on the lowest setting, my hair does not require much maintenance nor frequent haircuts. In fact, I usually cut it about every month and a half. For the last year i have actually been mooching off of my good friend Jeremy Holmes, and he has been cutting it. Jeremy, you have done a great job, my critique on previous haircut experiences are in no way a result of the fine job you have done serving as my personal barber, but of the many barber/style shops/salons that I have visited in my life. Anyway, Heidi calls around to a few places in town to try and find the cheapest place for me to get my haircut, and scores with a place that is about 5 or 6 blocks away providing mens' haircuts for $10.
Now, this barber shop is located in the part of town that all of our acquaintances have warned us as being the "rough" side of town. However, I happen to know that the demographics of this town are like 70% white, middle class conservatives, and knowing what I know about wealthy white people is that they are usually afraid because they are ignorant, and this neighborhood happens to be home to the other 30% of the Morehead City population. Also, our house sits on this side of the proverbial tracks, so I was actually encouraged by the fact that the barber shop was within walking distance.
So Heidi and I make the pleasant stroll down to the barber shop and walk in to a building that to the naked eye is not much. A simple store front in a run-down shopping center. The first thing you see is an old bar room pool table quickly followed by three simple barber shop chairs. There is a younger gentleman already cutting someone elses hair and a very large man is sitting opposite the door we just entered and he is wearing an apron and talking on his cell phone. He acknowledges our entrance and gives me a simple head nod indicating that I should head on back to the last chair. I complied and sat waiting for him to finish his phone call.
Now, up to this point, this is a pretty normal experience, that is other than the fact that there is a pool table in the middle of the room. When the larger gentleman, I found out later his name is Jerry, got off of the phone he got up and promptly attended to me. After a quick conversation on how I would like my hair cut, Jerry grabbed the clippers, and to my surprise, the business end of a vacuum cleaner hose, somehow attached the two, and began cutting/vacuuming? my head. (that last sentence is meant to be read with an inquisitive expression on the cutting/vacuuming part). It was at about this point that I found myself fairly amused and yet oddly relaxed by the sensation that the vacuum is eliciting. It is also right as Jerry is really going to town with vacuuming my head, that about four other people walk into the shop.
This is where things picked up. A couple of the people who came in were there to get haircuts and others were not, they simply came in to hang out, talk, solve world issues; you know, normal conversation. I quickly infer that Jerry is someone of note because the newcomers say hello in tones of familiarity to the other barbers, but go out of their way to the last chair to give a fist-bump to Jerry. Everyone takes a seat, either to get their hair cut or just to settle in for what seemed like a rather routine barber shop conversation. It seemed as though they felt there was an elephant in the room with Heidi and I being outsiders, but only for about 2 minutes, once the conversation started everything seemed to flow. I politely sat and listened, not wanting to jump into a conversation that I was not a part of, but obviously responding to jokes that were made and making eye contact to show interest in the story being told. Then, Jerry, obviously being a true barber and conversationlist and treating me as a guest and not just a client, decided to invite me into the conversation by directly asking for my input. Now, I have sat as a third person to many conversations that people just kept talking as though I were not there, and would have been quite easy for the locals at this barber shop to do the same, but Jerry seemed to know when the right amount of time had passed and did it in such a way that I was welcomed by everyone else as well. Noting that Jerry had given me my que to develop a rapport, I made a brief input to the conversation and then sat back and listened pretty much for the rest of the haircut, not wanting to overstep my bounds. Jerry would stop cutting for a minute to express a thought or add something to a conversation and then would resume, and the whole time he paid great attention to detail for such a simple haircut, and i can assure you he did not miss one hair. The whole process probably took thirty minutes; there would have been times when I would have been annoyed if my haircut had taken thirty minutes, but this was the best thirty minute haircut of my life.
As I said before, this was more than a simple haircut. It was a small community event, and one that I hope to revisit and become a regular into their gatherings. Getting a haircut will now be something that I look forward to doing, and will likely go every few weeks for a trim just so I can partake in the experience. So my advice is, whether it be a haircut or nail salon or other personal services that you need performed, seek out those places that are not only conducting business, but are communities of people that are experiencing life together; you might learn something.
Is that something or is it nothing?
Chadwick
Because I cut my hair simply with a pair of clippers on the lowest setting, my hair does not require much maintenance nor frequent haircuts. In fact, I usually cut it about every month and a half. For the last year i have actually been mooching off of my good friend Jeremy Holmes, and he has been cutting it. Jeremy, you have done a great job, my critique on previous haircut experiences are in no way a result of the fine job you have done serving as my personal barber, but of the many barber/style shops/salons that I have visited in my life. Anyway, Heidi calls around to a few places in town to try and find the cheapest place for me to get my haircut, and scores with a place that is about 5 or 6 blocks away providing mens' haircuts for $10.
Now, this barber shop is located in the part of town that all of our acquaintances have warned us as being the "rough" side of town. However, I happen to know that the demographics of this town are like 70% white, middle class conservatives, and knowing what I know about wealthy white people is that they are usually afraid because they are ignorant, and this neighborhood happens to be home to the other 30% of the Morehead City population. Also, our house sits on this side of the proverbial tracks, so I was actually encouraged by the fact that the barber shop was within walking distance.
So Heidi and I make the pleasant stroll down to the barber shop and walk in to a building that to the naked eye is not much. A simple store front in a run-down shopping center. The first thing you see is an old bar room pool table quickly followed by three simple barber shop chairs. There is a younger gentleman already cutting someone elses hair and a very large man is sitting opposite the door we just entered and he is wearing an apron and talking on his cell phone. He acknowledges our entrance and gives me a simple head nod indicating that I should head on back to the last chair. I complied and sat waiting for him to finish his phone call.
Now, up to this point, this is a pretty normal experience, that is other than the fact that there is a pool table in the middle of the room. When the larger gentleman, I found out later his name is Jerry, got off of the phone he got up and promptly attended to me. After a quick conversation on how I would like my hair cut, Jerry grabbed the clippers, and to my surprise, the business end of a vacuum cleaner hose, somehow attached the two, and began cutting/vacuuming? my head. (that last sentence is meant to be read with an inquisitive expression on the cutting/vacuuming part). It was at about this point that I found myself fairly amused and yet oddly relaxed by the sensation that the vacuum is eliciting. It is also right as Jerry is really going to town with vacuuming my head, that about four other people walk into the shop.
This is where things picked up. A couple of the people who came in were there to get haircuts and others were not, they simply came in to hang out, talk, solve world issues; you know, normal conversation. I quickly infer that Jerry is someone of note because the newcomers say hello in tones of familiarity to the other barbers, but go out of their way to the last chair to give a fist-bump to Jerry. Everyone takes a seat, either to get their hair cut or just to settle in for what seemed like a rather routine barber shop conversation. It seemed as though they felt there was an elephant in the room with Heidi and I being outsiders, but only for about 2 minutes, once the conversation started everything seemed to flow. I politely sat and listened, not wanting to jump into a conversation that I was not a part of, but obviously responding to jokes that were made and making eye contact to show interest in the story being told. Then, Jerry, obviously being a true barber and conversationlist and treating me as a guest and not just a client, decided to invite me into the conversation by directly asking for my input. Now, I have sat as a third person to many conversations that people just kept talking as though I were not there, and would have been quite easy for the locals at this barber shop to do the same, but Jerry seemed to know when the right amount of time had passed and did it in such a way that I was welcomed by everyone else as well. Noting that Jerry had given me my que to develop a rapport, I made a brief input to the conversation and then sat back and listened pretty much for the rest of the haircut, not wanting to overstep my bounds. Jerry would stop cutting for a minute to express a thought or add something to a conversation and then would resume, and the whole time he paid great attention to detail for such a simple haircut, and i can assure you he did not miss one hair. The whole process probably took thirty minutes; there would have been times when I would have been annoyed if my haircut had taken thirty minutes, but this was the best thirty minute haircut of my life.
As I said before, this was more than a simple haircut. It was a small community event, and one that I hope to revisit and become a regular into their gatherings. Getting a haircut will now be something that I look forward to doing, and will likely go every few weeks for a trim just so I can partake in the experience. So my advice is, whether it be a haircut or nail salon or other personal services that you need performed, seek out those places that are not only conducting business, but are communities of people that are experiencing life together; you might learn something.
Is that something or is it nothing?
Chadwick
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
East Bound and Down
Hello all, and by "all" I mean the two people who are following this blog. Now that I feel like I have something to write about i am going to try to post periodically, whereas before I just posted a conglomeration of stories that I had previously written on other sites. I still recommend going back and taking a look at a few.
Anyway, my wife Heidi and I moved out to Morehead City, NC on April 6 of this year. While it has only been a couple of weeks, the transition has been so easy that Morehead quickly feels like home. I took a job with Olympus Dive Center as a divemaster, and thus far, the increase in diving frequency has made the move well worthwhile.
However, it obviously does not pay to do the things that one enjoys, so when you revert back to your high school days of making minimum wage then you are forced to rent something that looks like this.....
Now, I know what the first thing is you think when you look at this picture, "they haven't even taken the rental sign out of the yard!" Don't worry, it was out when we got here, just an outdated picture.
We actually have been very pleased with our house, and our neighbors have made us feel very welcome.
Morehead so far has lots of perks, like a small town feel, but with lots of people; our house is like three blocks from the water, but the biggest perk is....
this is a statue with a plaque beneath it claiming to be of "Neptune," but myself and the Gutenkunst family know that this giant statue with nipples as big as my head, is actually big daddy John Harris. I am not sure if this picture captures my pose accurately, but let it be noted that I am not just grotesquely grabbing at the statue like an immature middle schooler, but am instead delicately positioning my thumb and forefinger of each hand around the statue's teat, if you will.
Anyway, we have gotten off to a good start here in Morehead and hope that some of you will find these as compelling reasons to come visit. And in case you are wondering, the statue is right outside of my dive shop, so if you are wanting to take compromising and/or immature pictures with the statue then that can be arranged.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
The Middle Seat of the Pickup
Now that I have this newly discovered tool of Facebook Notes at my disposal, I feel that I should bring up the age old question of whether or not is ok for a girl to ride in the middle of a pickup.
At one time I used this topic as a conversation starter. Now that I can address a large network of people, I feel it is necessary to, take from the table if you will, this question that has, in the past, has caused quite a conundrum in group settings; not the least of which is between my girlfriend, who adamently opposes riding in the middle, and I who thinks it is completely reasonable.
That being said, i now turn the question out to the all knowing facebook public. Some of you have undoubtedly had this discussion with me before and forgot about it, but now you have had time to think about it and may have come up with some better arguments for your side. Please share, i would like to know everyone's thoughts on whether or not girls (or guys, not that there's anything wrong with that) should ride in the middle seat.
Just for arguments sake, lets say the pickup is an automatic.
At one time I used this topic as a conversation starter. Now that I can address a large network of people, I feel it is necessary to, take from the table if you will, this question that has, in the past, has caused quite a conundrum in group settings; not the least of which is between my girlfriend, who adamently opposes riding in the middle, and I who thinks it is completely reasonable.
That being said, i now turn the question out to the all knowing facebook public. Some of you have undoubtedly had this discussion with me before and forgot about it, but now you have had time to think about it and may have come up with some better arguments for your side. Please share, i would like to know everyone's thoughts on whether or not girls (or guys, not that there's anything wrong with that) should ride in the middle seat.
Just for arguments sake, lets say the pickup is an automatic.
Gauchos; by any other name are just sweatpants
For all of you ladies out there, I have to give it to you. Once again, you have used your innate ability for manipulation to curb something toward your convenience.
Gauchos, or Gouchos (I found both spellings), are nothing more than sweatpants. I submit they are even more laxed than sweatpants because they don't even taper in any way, shape or form, they just flap freely in the wind. Women have come up with this new name for sweatpants allowing them to dress comfortalby at the work place. Can men do this, I think not. In a professional office men are required to wear stuffy shirts and ties that trap every ounce of heat in no matter the time of year. In my opinion, this is unacceptable. Just because women dress up the name a little and throw on some heels with pants that Bozo the clown wore does not mean they are dress pants. I just think it is a little sexist to allow women to wear sweatpants in the work place and not men.
In light of this, my colleague Christopher Aderhold and I have declared Wednesdays as Goucho Wednesday from here on out. Today is his last day of work, and yes he wore his "Gouchos" to work. Everyone who has seen him today probably thought, "that guy wore sweat pants to the office, how crazy" But I think after we get past the imbalance in the fashion world between men and women then men everywhere can stand up proudly against the oppression and begin wearing their pajamas to work.
Gauchos, or Gouchos (I found both spellings), are nothing more than sweatpants. I submit they are even more laxed than sweatpants because they don't even taper in any way, shape or form, they just flap freely in the wind. Women have come up with this new name for sweatpants allowing them to dress comfortalby at the work place. Can men do this, I think not. In a professional office men are required to wear stuffy shirts and ties that trap every ounce of heat in no matter the time of year. In my opinion, this is unacceptable. Just because women dress up the name a little and throw on some heels with pants that Bozo the clown wore does not mean they are dress pants. I just think it is a little sexist to allow women to wear sweatpants in the work place and not men.
In light of this, my colleague Christopher Aderhold and I have declared Wednesdays as Goucho Wednesday from here on out. Today is his last day of work, and yes he wore his "Gouchos" to work. Everyone who has seen him today probably thought, "that guy wore sweat pants to the office, how crazy" But I think after we get past the imbalance in the fashion world between men and women then men everywhere can stand up proudly against the oppression and begin wearing their pajamas to work.
How I lost everything in Prague
Most of you know that I am backpacking through Europe. I am writing this note to say that the only thing i know for certain is that planning only helps in as far as it gets you headed in a general direction; past that you are never gauranteed that you will get a train going exactly where you want to go when you want to go there.
Colin and I have split up, he went to Berlin and I came to Prague to meet up with my mom who is here on business. I hope Colin is faring better than I. Since my arrival in Prague I have experienced the luxurious side of Europe by eating extravagant dinners on someone else's tab, and listening to live jazz on boat tours up and down the river. Also, since I have been in Prague I have managed to lose my camera bag that had all footage up to this point, my video camera itself, my digital camera, and my passport. I would give it all up just for the video that i have taken. Colin, I am sorry. I am also sorry that you have to find this out via facebook. It would be a lie to say that I have not been bummed out about my loss, however, I refuse to let it ruin my trip. I remind myself that there are much bigger things going on in the world that carry considerable significance well above and beyond the misfortunes of a person "male, middle-class, and white" who lost his camera while backpacking around europe.
That said, events such as these are going to be hilarious, eventually. They also will be what makes this trip amusing to talk about. Sure, there will be the sites that everyone who comes over here is able to view, but few will have sketchy hostels that they were lucky to stumble upon in Paris at 1:30 a.m. because they had nowhere else to stay, or birds crapping on their heads in the Louvre courtyard and not having a hostel where they could go back and shower thus resorting to using the fountain at the louvre to clean themselves off, or even misplacing all of their video footage and passports.
These will be the stories that are fun to tell and so I am not sorry they happen, just disappointed for the moment. I hope this note finds you well and that your lives are as eventful (whatever that may mean) where you are as mine is here.Peace be with you and stories to come,Chadwick
p.s. I purchased the video camera that i lost just prior to leaving for this trip. As irony would have it, I lost my camera yesterday and my credit card statement with my camera on it came due today. What that means is: i paid for a camera today that i lost yesterday. Ironic? I think so.
p.s. Colin just reminded me that on the video I made the prediction that one of us (colin or I) would lose something of value on the trip. That video documentation is on the very video camera that i lost. also ironic.
Colin and I have split up, he went to Berlin and I came to Prague to meet up with my mom who is here on business. I hope Colin is faring better than I. Since my arrival in Prague I have experienced the luxurious side of Europe by eating extravagant dinners on someone else's tab, and listening to live jazz on boat tours up and down the river. Also, since I have been in Prague I have managed to lose my camera bag that had all footage up to this point, my video camera itself, my digital camera, and my passport. I would give it all up just for the video that i have taken. Colin, I am sorry. I am also sorry that you have to find this out via facebook. It would be a lie to say that I have not been bummed out about my loss, however, I refuse to let it ruin my trip. I remind myself that there are much bigger things going on in the world that carry considerable significance well above and beyond the misfortunes of a person "male, middle-class, and white" who lost his camera while backpacking around europe.
That said, events such as these are going to be hilarious, eventually. They also will be what makes this trip amusing to talk about. Sure, there will be the sites that everyone who comes over here is able to view, but few will have sketchy hostels that they were lucky to stumble upon in Paris at 1:30 a.m. because they had nowhere else to stay, or birds crapping on their heads in the Louvre courtyard and not having a hostel where they could go back and shower thus resorting to using the fountain at the louvre to clean themselves off, or even misplacing all of their video footage and passports.
These will be the stories that are fun to tell and so I am not sorry they happen, just disappointed for the moment. I hope this note finds you well and that your lives are as eventful (whatever that may mean) where you are as mine is here.Peace be with you and stories to come,Chadwick
p.s. I purchased the video camera that i lost just prior to leaving for this trip. As irony would have it, I lost my camera yesterday and my credit card statement with my camera on it came due today. What that means is: i paid for a camera today that i lost yesterday. Ironic? I think so.
p.s. Colin just reminded me that on the video I made the prediction that one of us (colin or I) would lose something of value on the trip. That video documentation is on the very video camera that i lost. also ironic.
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