Thoughts of Spring - The Last Couple of Weeks

The last time I wrote in this blog we were experiencing a period of unseasonable warmth in the greater Champaign-Urbana "metropolitan" area that awoke within me memories of Springtime past and I began to get nostalgic for the old days. Thoughts of baseball and European travels came to mind. Since then things have been somewhat busy. You know, grad school and all.

Two weeks ago I took my first trip to Chicago of the semester to observe student teachers. This is part of my graduate assistant position at the U of I. Three times a semester I go to schools to observe student teachers in their professional semester. It's nice getting back into the classroom and to see different band, orchestra, and general music programs in Chicago suburbs and the Champaign area. When I got back from Chicago it was almost 60 degrees outside so I decided to go for a run (we live about 2 hours south of Chicago) to help get the blood flowing back in my legs after the long car ride. So on February 17th I ran 2 miles outside in shorts and a t-shirt. Here is a picture:


That's me after the run pointing to the calendar that says "February." Yes, shorts and a t-shirt. It reminded me a bit of a trip to Bayfield, WI one year with our dear friends Nicole and Dan when we went cross-country skiing in temperatures that approached 50 degrees.

For the last several weeks I've also been busy with rehearsals. I got a great opportunity this semester to conduct a brand new piece, just written by a U of I composition student. The piece is called against COLORADO and we premiered it on Friday night with our chamber orchestra. It was a great challenge for me (I've never conducted a contemporary piece like this for orchestra) and it was fun to bring a new work to performance and work with a composer - especially one who is still alive (no offense, Beethoven). Additionally I've been rehearsing the Philharmonia orchestra a lot this semester and I'm conducting two pieces on their upcoming concert in one week: Pelleas et Melisande by Faure and the Nabucco Overture by Verdi.

Throughout all of this I've managed to keep my New Year's resolution (start a running/exercise program) alive. Today I ran five miles through town bringing my total mileage for the week to 12.5. I'm pretty amazed that I've managed to maintain my discipline throughout the semester so far. Perhaps it was lack of cross-country skiing this year but somehow I've kept up with it. I'm in the middle of a 12 week program, currently on week 8, that I found at this website in January. Between running indoors at the Activities and Recreation center on campus and the recent warm weather, it's been remarkably easy to keep it up. Maybe I'm becoming more responsible?

Thoughts of Spring - Wagner

Fifteen years ago this spring I was a Junior in high school - it's hard to believe that but it's true - and I was preparing for the adventure of my young life. My humanities class was taking a trip to Europe that July, embarking on a month-long tour of countries beginning in England, weaving through France, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, and even a portion of North Africa. It was the first time I had left the country (not counting Canada), I was without my parents and hanging with my friends, and I was very excited.

My classmates and I spent the spring of 1996 making payments, attending meetings, learning about the places we would visit, and generally getting WORKED UP!!!! about our summer trip. I remember buying my money belt and passport holder, getting new clothes that would help me look "less" like a tourist, brushing up on my German (the only language I know at all other than English - Guten Tag), and making all kinds of other frantic preparations. I even had a small white board in my room on which I marked down the DTE or "Days to Europe."

Last week as I was reading this book about the life of Richard Wagner and his family, and I was suddenly rushed back to 1996 (cut to Wayne's World flashback/dissolving sequence). At the beginning of the book, the author describes the idyllic life of the Wagners (Cosima, Richard, and their children) home in Tribschen on Lake Lucerne in Switzerland. The house was the scene of some of their happiest days where the family was able to bask in the bucolic splendor of the Swiss countryside and enjoy their time together, far from the prying eyes of the European public.

For me, it's a lovely spot and it marked the halfway point on our European journey. Cramming all of Western Europe (sorry Portugal) into one month required an almost breakneck pace but we were able to carve out a beautiful day in Lucerne. We visited the house (see photo above - I actually took that one), bought bread and cheese from a local market, sat by the lake and generally had a very lazy day in this lovely little town nestled in the Swiss Alps.

Later that evening we went swimming in Lake Lucerne. As it turns out glacial lakes are very cold and one of my most vivid memories was swimming from shore to a dock about 30 feet into the lake. I remember diving into the water and getting my breath taken away by the cold, swimming to the dock and then standing on it, shivering, and watching the sun go down behind the mountains. It was breathtaking - or maybe it was just the cold water. I do remember how small I felt at that moment and how enormous our world was.

Thoughts of Spring - Baseball

Now that the temperatures are getting warmer my mind turns to thoughts of Spring. Perhaps it is a bit premature since we are still in the midst of winter (an arctic blast could suddenly descend upon us at anytime), but I can't help anticipating the thaw and the reawakening of the trees and flowers and the flocks of hundreds of Canada Geese migrating over our apartment. This time of year also stirs memories within me, breaking forth from my mind like the flow of rapidly melting ice. The sights, sounds, and smells of the thaw trigger thoughts and images in my mind from years past.

For whatever reason today I've been thinking about baseball. When I was a kid I LOVED baseball and I couldn't wait to get out and play. As soon as the snow had melted enough - to a point where I could walk in our backyard without plunging into knee-deep drifts - I would be outside with bat in hand winging fly balls over our rooftop. It usually started with Spring Training when players traveled to warmer climes and began their month-long workout to peak performance and the beginning of the season. I would anxiously await the arrival of this time of year and ready myself.

Growing up in Minnesota meant that my Spring Training occurred as I was dodging blizzards and wading through ankle deep puddles of slush that covered the backyard through most of the month of March. I remember what it felt like to smack a fly ball with frozen hands gripping the bat - how it stung and left my hands feeling numb and lifeless - or how cold my legs and feet got as I ran through the dirty, slushy ponds in our backyard. There was even one year when I played baseball for a little league team (the Waite Park Cubs in Northeast Minneapolis) and we played a game in May in the middle of a snowfall.

I must admit, most of my games were played in our backyard or at the local park. I've never been much of a "joiner" when it comes to sports and I like to have things on my own terms. I guess that's why, when we moved from Minneapolis to Apple Valley in 1991, I decided to build my own baseball diamond in our backyard (see image above - it's a scaled down version of a softball field - perfect for wiffle ball). Note to all parents: this is what can happen when your son or daughter is home alone in the summer. Luckily for me the sod, for which my parents paid handsomely, ended before third base and I just ended up plowing under a bunch of weeds (note the different shades of green) in the photo.

I used the field for several years until I eventually lost interest in playing (thank you 1994-95 MLB players' strike) but for a few magical summers I imagined myself playing in the major leagues on my little ballfield.

Cold Snap

It takes me 95 seconds to walk from my front door to the bus stop across from my apartment building. The walk across the Quad from the Illini Union Bookstore to Krannert Center takes me five minutes and seventeen seconds. If I catch the bus transfer at parking lot E-14 just right, I shave two and a half minutes off of my walk by catching the Gold bus. Wright St. and Armory to the Music Building? Three and a half minutes. Timing these days is everything.

Yesterday morning I made my way across the Quad to catch a bus at the bookstore and a group of students was handing out free hot chocolate to passers by. Many people stopped and graciously accepted a generous sized styrofoam cup brimming with the piping beverage. Others, not wanting to break stride, didn't even give the hot chocolate a glance and continued with brisk strides toward their next destination. This town does not do well with cold weather.

Now, granted, -12 degrees is cold no matter where you are but locals will tell you that this winter has been historically miserable. One glance at this headline from the local newspaper speaks volumes: "Officially, December Was Downright Wintry." Apparently the month of January was the coldest in this area since 1994. Urbana has recorded eight inches of snow above their average yearly total already and the plows are still digging out from the winter storm of one week ago. Woe to the pedestrian on some of the lesser traveled thoroughfares. Last night the city of Champaign finally cleared some of the massive amounts of snow that have built up on the sidewalks in downtown.

Thankfully, for the locals, we are going to warm up next week. I guess it's supposed to be near 50 degrees by Wednesday. By the end of February the average high for this time of year in Central Illinois is 44 degrees. Spring is just around the corner. Although for this Wisconsinite it seems odd to begin to usher in a new season at a time of year when I typically am driving across Lake Superior from Bayfield to Madeline Island on a highway of ice.

Of Cars and Snow

Thanks to the winter storm this week that dumped a huge amount of snow on our fair city (and when I say huge, I employ the use of Central Illinoisan vernacular: 6 inches) and the lackluster snow removal efforts of the U of I housing crews, I spent forty minutes today extricating our Volkswagen Golf from it's ice encased parking space. The storm, which barreled across the region on Wednesday, shut down everything from the University to local businesses and kept the Champaign plow drivers working overtime several days in a row this week. In fact it was only yesterday when our parking lot was finally cleared, leaving our car entombed behind a jagged barricade of ice and snow.

I am no stranger to having my car stuck mind you. One of my favorite teenage pastimes while growing up in Minnesota was to drive my 1986 Mercury Grand Marquis (more tank than car) into snowbanks throughout the long winters. Several friends and I became experts at this and developed quite a technique. The trick was to glance the snowbank with the passenger side, thereby causing an explosion of snow to cascade across the car and into the street. If one did this correctly it wouldn't even slow the car down. Turn the wheels too far to the curb and your car would plunge into the snow, rendering escape nearly impossible.

As a note: suburban snowbanks were the best for this pastime because of two factors:
1. The width of suburban streets is generally wide enough, comfortably, for four lanes of traffic - even in residential neighborhoods. All of this snow piled on the curb meant TALL snowbanks.
2. In Apple Valley and Rosemount, where I spent my teenage years, the curbs were not perpendicular to the street. Rather, they gradually angled up from the gutter in a rounded manner toward the snowbank thus ensuring no broken axles or flat tires.

One of my most vivid memories associated with this game was a winter night in late 1996. At the time I was working a part time job at Media Play (think Borders or Barnes and Noble but much worse and poorly managed) and I was giving a ride home to one of my coworkers who also went to high school with me. I was a couple of years ahead of her in school, and I had no romantic interest whatsoever, but being the older, more mature person, it was my duty to impress her with my many feats of skill. I had an image to uphold and I wanted to impress upon her that I was no ordinary guy. I was super cool and daring. I lived life on the edge and I was full of spontaneity. This was the perfect time to show off my driving.

In retrospect I should have stopped with one snowbank. The first one was easy so I tempted fate a second time. When the second go-round was successful I should have known not to push my luck. On the third snowbank, and by this time I could tell that she was a bit uneasy about the whole situation (all the more reason to show her that this was merely routine - like stopping at a traffic light), my car skidded just a bit on some ice and plunged headlong into a five foot tall mound of heavily packed snow. I was stuck, the snow covering my front tires completely.

I thought about this moment today as slowly chipped my car out of the snow in our parking lot. I thought about the embarrassment of trying, for an hour before anyone stopped to help, to dig the vehicle out with my ice scraper as my coworker sat inside with the engine running. How I ruined my shoes standing in snow up to my thighs desperately trying to free my car of an ever worsening situation. With each spin of the tires the car dug itself further and further into the snow, creating ice beneath the wheels that made situation more and more hopeless. I remembered how eventually some nice people came along, hooked up a chain to my car and pulled me out with their pickup truck. Other neighborhood residents came and pitched in, shoveling snow from behind my tires. I was grateful for the help but also mortified about the situation I had caused. After an hour and a half of being stuck I finally dropped off my passenger at her house. Exhausted, cold, soaking wet, and defeated I returned home over an hour later than I was supposed to.

It was shortly this event that I retired from my brief career in snowbank ramming. I guess it's all part of being a teenager - testing limits, showing off, feeling invincible - but I'm really glad I never got into an accident or caused any serious injuries to myself or anyone else while trying to impress my friends during those long winters.

Thank You MTD

I would like to point out that I am generally pretty punctual. I often end up at a job interview or an audition 45 minutes to an hour early because I planned for "heavy traffic." When it comes to classes, I'm always ten minutes early and sitting in the front row. Doctor's appointment? I'm there with ten minutes to spare. So you can imagine my surprise when I arrived at the bus stop a block away from the campus Activities and Recreation Center five minutes early, only to see the "Yellow(hopper)" speeding off without me on board.

Oh yeah, did I mention that today was a snow day with thirty mile per hour winds? We didn't have classes due to the STORM OF THE CENTURY so I thought I would go up to the ARC to run a few miles (Wednesday = 3 miles). I'll be damned if a few inches of snow is going to keep me from maintaining my fitness regimen.

After being left behind by the bus amid the gale force winds and snow drifts I did what any self respecting man would do in the heat (or freezing cold) of the moment: I called my wife and whined for her to come and pick me up. Uproarious laughter ensued on her end of the line but I must have sounded pathetic because she agreed to come and get me. I told her that I would start walking down First St. and that I would look for her.

The walk towards our apartment was slow and I plowed through enormous snow drifts along the sidewalk. At one point I walked through a drift that came up over my knees. The wind was howling and it was difficult to see at times with the snow blowing across my path. I kept on walking and I didn't see Kaia. She's letting the car warm up, that's it. Maybe she took a different route to the ARC than First St. Why would she do that? Her car was sideswiped by a plow - there is no other explanation!


As I approached the credit union (which is right next to our apartment) my phone rang. It was Kaia and she was stuck in the driveway of our apartment complex. Whew! No problem. Once I arrived on the scene we spent the next ten minutes rocking the car back and forth and pushing it backwards down the driveway. Finally we broke free and were able to park the car in one of the lesser snowed in spots in the parking lot. It was a moment of triumph!


As soon as we parked the car a plow arrived to clear our parking lot. And as we walked into our building the next Yellow(hopper) bus arrived, disembarking its passengers that live in our building.

Snowmageddon Icepocalypse

"Stay indoors as much as possible."
"Classes after 5 PM are canceled. The status of tomorrow's classes will be determined by 10 PM."
"No travel is advised."
"Officials warn weather conditions could be dangerous and deadly."
"Men's basketball vs. Penn State will be played as scheduled."

Above are some of today's weather headlines as an enormous winter storm, touted by meteorologists as a "monster," began to unleash a reign of destruction and terror across Central Illinois. With the end of life as we know it coming to our doorstep, ready to snuff us out like a tiny, insignificant flame it's a comfort to know that we count on our good ol' fightin' Illini to prevail in the face of adversity. Yes, not even God himself can stop these young men from beating the cookies out of Penn State tonight at Assembly Hall. As I write this Kaia is on her way to usher the tens of screaming fans that braved the ice pellets, forty mile per hour winds, slick roads, and brutal cold to make it to the game.

Let me just take this moment to give a public shout out to my wonderful wife of almost six years who is braving the elements so we can eat. Thanks!

It has been a brutal day out there. I managed to get a two mile run in this morning after class (at our indoor campus recreation center) but I was pelted with ice on my way home after getting off the bus. I took this video from our living room so you can see/hear the ice as it pummels our windows:



Needless to say I won't be going anywhere tonight (seriously, thank you Kaia). Once it's all said and done we're supposed to get anywhere from 9-13 inches of some kind of frozen precipitation. Up in Chicago (where I'm scheduled to go tomorrow night) it's supposed to be worse. They could get up to 2 feet of snow! In that event I think I will see if I can hitch a ride with the Penn State team on their way back to Happy Valley.

It's times like this that I wish I were up north. In Wisconsin and Minnesota a storm like this inevitably means great snow for cross country skiing and contributes to the collective folklore of winter hardship thus bonding fellow Wisconsinites and Minnesotans together in a universal brotherhood of suffering through an oppressive winter. In Central Illinois this snow and ice could actually shut down the state for days. They canceled public school classes in the area last night proactively for today (before the storm even hit) and are most likely going to do the same tomorrow (and possibly the next day). Think of all the lost learning. Think of the time to make up later in the year. Ouch.

At least in times like these, when the weather gets tough and all of the sissies cancel school, church activities, and yoga classes, I can sit back, open a cold beer, turn on the TV and watch the Illini vs. Penn State game that is going on less than a mile from my apartment on the Big Ten Network.