Winter Cold Moon
I was at the table last night when the Woolly Mammoths gathered at Scott Simpson’s house in Minnetonka, Minnesota. Scott and I tested the Skype connection earlier, both on his laptop and on his new phone. When Mark Odegard came early, I spoke with him using Scott’s phone, able to see and be seen. Video phone calls! No flying cars, but…video phone calls!
Mark told me of his desire to go to Burning Man, holding up a coffee table sized book featuring various art installations from this annual festival of strangeness. He’s always got a next adventure coming on line. This was involves camping out, carrying in all your food and water (a gallon a day for the weeklong event), and required participation. “No observers” is a Burning Man rule.
Later on I was able to check-in along with Bill Schmidt, Warren Wolfe, Frank Broderick, Scott and Mark. This time I was on the laptop at one end of the table, able to see most of the guys, though when individuals checked in, somebody would turn the laptop so I could see that person.
Part of the beauty of 30 year old relationships is knowing the backstory. When Frank talked about helping a young dancer, I knew about his relationships to the arts, especially opera. When Ode talked about Elizabeth and her family, I knew them, having married Ode and Elizabeth. As Scott talked of being snubbed in his workplace, I knew the story of his transition from counselor to financial planner and his plans underway to retire. Warren spoke of cleaning things up at home. I knew about the time when he owned four houses. Bill had positive news for his venture, U-Face-Me, a possible investor. I knew about his coding, his work on mainframe data storage, his life as a Jesuit. Just as, when I spoke of Shadow Mountain, of my new knee, of the book I’m writing, they knew about my past as a Presbyterian minister, of my two ex-wives.
We can hear the subtle resonance of words and feelings, know often where the current dilemma fits into a life. I felt lucky to be part of the meeting last night. Not the same as being there physically, but nourishing in its own way.
