I updated my /now page - What I’m reading and watching, plus links to this week’s blog posts, the week’s best purchase, and the links I added to my personal bookmarks.

This question was asked by Curious Magpie. It has also been answered by Anniegreens. Do you experience Hiraeth (a deep longing for something)? What is it you long for - a time, a place, a feeling?

The greatest adventure of my life was my honeymoon, a blissful 156 day long-distance hiking journey that saw my new wife and I walk across 14 states along the Appalachian Trail. I think and talk about it often and probably always will. Even the best of regular life has its monotony. You sleep in the same place. You see the same things when you look out the window. The clerk you see at the supermarket rang you out last week and when you return next week, they will ring you out again. It's very possible to be extremely happy amidst all that sameness, bit it can hardly be described as an adventure. It's more like contentment.

During the time we spent walking through the mountains, every day brought things we'd never seen before. Every night we slept in a new place, whether it was a tent site, a shelter or a boisterous hostel in some trail town. Long distance hikers have only three things that are constants: the unending evaluation of their energy levels, the location of drinkable water and the decision on where to spend the night. Everything else is just the relentless magnetic pull down the trail, putting one foot in front of the other, moving toward the terminus of their journey, no matter how far distant.

The pure physicality of the journey makes for many, may opportunities for small victories. Every single time you make it to the top of a mountain, it means that you've won. Every time you wade across a river, your unbeaten streak continues. When you cross into another state, it is both a finish line and a starting line in a slow race to the next border. It doesn't take long during a through hike to achieve peak fitness. Any excess body weight melts off. There is real magic in knowing that you have earned the ability to do almost anything you desire with your physical skills. When you see day hikers along the trail, huffing and puffing as they labor towards a peak and you saunter pass them with your fully loaded backpack, knowing they are climbing but one mountain that day while you are climbing a half dozen, you can't help but appreciate the hiking machine you have become.

One of the true joys during that journey was the chance to appreciate things we take for granted during our normal lives. When you spend most nights in a sleeping bag that is growing increasingly dirty as you lay on the ground inside your tent or the hard wooden boards of a shelter floor, the chance to get a rare hotel room as you hike through a trail town is magical. Sliding between clean sheets on a soft mattress with air conditioning is to experience true luxury. Imagine living off cold poptarts, oatmeal made with creek water, unrefrigerated cheese and the other foods that make up a backpacking diet. Then, while you're making your way through the incredibly rough wilderness of southern Maine, you come to a town like Rangely and you sit down for a restaurant meal of fresh lobster. You know in your heart of hearts that nothing will ever taste that good again.

As adults without trust funds, we have worked without much of a pause since our teens. We were privileged to take a six month break from that grind because my wife sold her partnership in her business. Just the freedom to be able to live a life that isn't tied to an obligation to report to X location to do X task for eight hours a day, five days a week was a once in a lifetime opportunity. When you can live your life without having to be responsible to anyone but your partner, the days have a different flavor. People often remark that if the two of us survived teh stress of walking 2,000 miles together, then we must be destined to be together. They do not know how much truth there is to that observation. We became so in tune with each other, do defendant on each other for mental, physical and emotional support. It has lasted through the entirety of our marriage.

So there it is. That's what I long for. All of those feelings and experiences during that period of my life are precious memories. I will always have them.

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Denis asked - Here is a wand. With it, you can bring back anyone from the dead from any era, at any point of their life and for only one day. Who do you resuscitate for 24h, at what point in their life and to do what?

This is the kind of question meant for me. I love history and I am prone to spending a great deal of time pondering things that will never happen. I have contemplated what I would do with my lottery winnings for hours despite the fact that I don't buy lottery tickets. I'm bad at math but I'm not that bad at math.

After last Tuesday, I'm tempted to say that I'd be willing to bring back Lee Harvey Oswald. I'd get him a good military grade rifle, not that Italian made mail order thing he used last time. Of course, Lee loved Russia, having lived there. His wife was also Russian so it might be hard to persuade him to do the job so he might not be the best candidate for this experiment.

With what America is facing right now, I also think that bringing back Dr. King for a 24-hour marathon strategy session would be a good idea. Aside from the power he conveyed with his amazing oratorical powers, he was also an organizing genius and man who could inspire others to do hard things. He successfully led the Montgomery bus boycott and the March into Selma. He advised the people of Birmingham how to deal with Bull Connor. I think he could quickly analyze the current political situation and help the resistance, such as it is, on a plan to mitigate the damage that's going to happen over the next four years. I'm thinking though, that it might be too heart breaking to only have him for a single day. I don't know if we could stand that loss again.

As long as Paul McCartney is still alive, I'd be tempted to bring back John Lennon for a day, give him a guitar, a pen and some paper and lock the two of them in the studio at Abbey Road with a supply of strong tea and some good weed. There have been many good song writers in the rock era but no one even comes close to those two guys. I don't know if they could put together an entire album in 24 hours. I'd settle for just a couple more songs to listen to for the rest of my life.

Since this exercise has been pretty male-centric, I think I'd better also think of a few women to consider. I'd definitely want to talk to someone smarter than me, someone creative with a unique way of explaining the world. Three candidates that quickly come to mind are Dorothy Parker, Virginia Wolfe and Sylvia Plath. It would be really cool if Denis would let me cheat and bring the three of them back simultaneously. Can you imagine being in the room to hear that conversation? I wouldn't say a word. They could all be pretty scathing and I don't think I'd want to risk becoming famous for being humiliated by a memorable one-liner.

Forced to choose someone outside of the 20th century, I think I'd got with Henry David Thoreau. I love smart and eloquent people. He qualifies. I think I'd come up with a series of questions for him to pontificate upon. We'd go for a walk in the park that now exists to preserve the site of his famous cabin. I would tape everything he says and have it transcribed. It would make a best selling book and I'd happily live off the profits for the rest of my life.

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Ask Me Anything - Where (and when) would you go if time travel were real?

Should time travel ever be invented, I think those of us living in 2024 are going to be pretty safe from being visited from the future. No one is ever going to look at this era and think, "Man, I'll bet that was a fun time to be alive!" Nope, they're going to look at this version of America and want to stay as far away from it as possible. In fact, other than the night that Obama won the election in 2008, most of the truly memorable moments of this entire century to date have been horrible, starting with the botched election in 2000 and then 9/11 the following year. Follow that up with war and the financial crisis and year after year of Donald John Trump and you don't get a time traveler Disneyland.

If I could travel in time, I'd be content just to see of the 20th centuries greatest hits. I think I'd enjoy going to one of the monumental concerts from the decade of my birth, the 1960s. Of course, Woodstock is the first thing to pop into my mind, but it was pretty wet and muddy for a good portion of the time, so I'd probably choose the Monterey Pop Festival in June 1967 so I could see acts like The Animals and Simon and Garfunkel and get to watch Jimi Hendrix literally light his guitar on fire. I'd definitely go to Liverpool, England in the early 60s to watch the Beatles play at the Cavern Club before they got famous.

I would go to the March On Washington in 1963 and watch Dr. King give that speech on the very spot where the 2013 version of me later got married, right on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. I'd like to go down to Mississippi after the Civil Rights Acts was passed and watch Fannie Lou Hamer vote for the first time. I'd definitely spend some time on college campuses, probably at places like Berkley and Columbia, to see the student movement in action. I'd go to the airport in San Francisco and buy beers for the GIs coming home from Vietnam. I'd verify that the right wing myth of spitting protesters is indeed a lie.

Then I'd probably get back in the time machine and go back to the 50s, just so I could go to Yankee Stadium on October 8, 1956, to see Don Larsen pitch a perfect game in the World Series against the Brooklyn Dodgers. I'd get good seats behind home plates, and I'd be ready to watch Yogi Berra jump into Larsen's arms after the final out. There's not much else I'd want to see of the 50s, except maybe the look on Rosa Park's face when she got out of jail for not giving up that bus seat. She is one of my heroes.

Going back to the 40s, I'd attend the funeral of FDR. If ever there was a right man at the right time for a job, it was him. He guided the US through the great depression and then straight into World War Two where he assembled a staff and alliances that resulted in a victory over fascism. I know he had faults. We all do, but he was a giant and there is a lot to admire there. I'd probably listen to a couple of Churchill's speeches in the House of Commons too. I'd love to be there to hear him say "We shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing-grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!” He's another flawed guy, but he did the job when Great Britain needed him.

The 30s were pretty rough, but there were still some things worth seeing. I'd go right to the heart of Nazi Germany and the 1936 Olympic Games just to see Jesse Owens destroy the myth of Aryan superiority as he defeated the master race and won four gold medals in sprinting and the long jump. I'd laugh as Hitler rushed out of the stadium to avoid shaking his hand, and I'd smile as Owens mounted the podium to the sounds of the Star Spangled Banner playing for all the Nazis to enjoy. I'd also do whatever I had to do to find Woodie Guthrie and listen to him sing his songs, even if I had to make my way into a hobo jungle in the rail yards.

I don't know a lot about the first two decades of the last century. I think I'd like to see that total badass named Teddy Roosevelt, the day he gave a campaign speech after being shot in the chest and before going to the hospital. Furthermore, I'd like to see big Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight champion, defend his title. If I wouldn't stand out too much, I'd go to New York City in 1919 to watch the World War One victory parade to see the Harlem Hellcats return from France. I'd also hang out at the polls to watch women come to vote after the passage of the 19th amendment.

Finally, I'd zip forward to other moments. I want to be on the White House lawn in 1974 to watch Richard Nixon get on the helicopter after resigning the presidency after members of his own party told him they would no longer support him because of his crimes, showing that people like Barry Goldwater had more morals than today's Republicans. Finally, I'd go to the Dakota apartment building on December 8, 1980, to try and stop Mark David Chapman from killing John Lennon. That would change the future, certainly, but only for the better.

Today's question comes from the November Indy Web Carnival - "Has someone had a profound impact on you?"

My transition from a person who viewed the world as something that just happens around us to a person who sees the world as a place that is ours to change came about under the tutelage of a unique man whose life story is unlike anyone I've ever met. I became interested in a local group formed to oppose the death penalty. Even when I was an uninformed, apolitical prison guard, I knew at a deep level that state-sanctioned killing was wrong. Even though I'm not religious and the name of the group was People of Faith Against the Death Penalty, I decided to attend. That's where I met the most revolutionary man with whom I've ever been associated, a man with the unlikely name of Chip Smith.

Chip was from Philadelphia's main line. His father had been a research scientist for a pharmaceutical company and ended up a wealthy man. Chip was nearly 70 when I met him, and he still had a trust fund left to him by his father, but he was hardly typical of that breed. In the '60s, while the war in Vietnam was raging, Chip had gone to work for the Agency for International Development in Laos, living among the American community there, rife with CIA agents and other clandestine operatives. When he returned to the United States, he fell into the radical left movement and stayed there for the rest of his life.

American communist and socialist organizations have Byzantine family trees. Groups continually split over differences in political philosophy and tactics. I can't describe every group Chip was a member of, but in 1979 he was a part of the People's Viewpoint organization, composed mostly of educated professionals who went to work alongside the working class to organize them into what would hopefully become a revolutionary movement. Despite having a doctorate in economics and that trust fund I mentioned, Chip went to work in a steel mill and became a shop steward in the union. His wife, an actual neurosurgeon by trade, went to work in a garment factory. The organizing of the People's Viewpoint organization came to a bloody end in November 1979 when a rally they organized in a Greensboro, NC housing project was attacked by the KKK in an ambush the police knew was going to happen and did nothing to stop. Five people were killed.

Chip's wife went back to work in the hospital, but Chip kept on working towards revolutionary changes in the U.S. By the late '90s, the organization he was a member of in Philly had a plan for members to move to the U.S. South to organize. Despite the bloody history that had touched their lives, Chip and his wife moved to NC. His plan was to join local progressive groups, assist them in their mission, and help them grow. He successfully mentored us into actually getting the city council of our city to endorse a death penalty moratorium in a campaign that succeeded. NC hasn't had an execution in 17 years.

When 9/11 happened and the U.S. government went to war, Chip used his extensive contacts to help the little peace group we organized do things like help military resisters, hold giant demonstrations, and direct military families towards others like them against the war.

On a personal level, he taught me so much. I learned about the history of the Palestinian people from Chip. I had no experience with organized labor or unions, being from the least unionized state in the country. Chip taught me what they've done for workers and why they are needed. Chip patiently taught me about the societal cost of white privilege. In fact, he wrote a book about it. Chip taught me about the importance of inclusion, about how as two white guys, we should work towards building organizations that valued women and people of color. I spent many, many hours riding around the state in Chip's old van, going to meetings at labor councils and organizations like Black Workers for Justice. He never talked all that much, but everyone knew him and respected him.

He wasn't just a political mentor either. When I was struggling to get sober, Chip and his wife were there for me, kind of like loving but very disapproving village elders urging me to do better. Eventually, his wife took a position in a hospital a couple of hours away, and they moved. Of course, he immediately identified the issues most pressing to the workers in that area, joined a local organization to help them out, and worked with them until he died a few years later, dedicated until the very end to making a better world with other people.

When making decisions, I often ask myself what Chip would do in my situation. He never got too bent out of shape about the news of the day, viewing the struggle for revolutionary change to be a long and slow, but constant, process. In these trying times, I do my best to emulate that thought process. I believe in my heart of hearts that people, organized together towards a common goal, have immense power. I learned that from Chip Smith.

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I tried to keep my mind occupied all day with something other than hope versus awful possibilities. Spent a great deal of time trying to turn a 30 second task into a 15 second task by automating what happens when I download pictures on my computer. I looked for a new program to test so that I could write a review. I did not have the energy or desire to get far from my desk. I did absolutely zero doomscrolling of the news. I didn't read a single article about the cloud hanging over America.

After lunch, I decided what I really wanted to do was just quit my job. I've already retired once, didn't like it so I returned to the workforce. I was looking for something to blame for my malaise today and instead of assigning that blame to existential dread, I figured it just had to be the low pressure, easy job I lucked into. Yep, that's it. I started emailing Wonder Woman all the reasons I wanted to quit. To her everlasting credit, she let me rant and didn't freak out. In the end, I didn't put in my notice, but I didn't feel better either.

I don't want to go to sleep because I'm scared of what will be on my phone when I wake up. I mean what if the worst happens? I have no idea what I will do. For a long time I thought I would just withdraw into my hobbies, delete all the news apps from my devices and become apolitical, finding some way to not feel guilty for the fifty million tons of privilege that would allow me to do that. I know better. I've been reading the news without pause since the days of Watergate. I would not know how to stop.

My entire early adulthood was taken up by 12 straight years of Reagan/Bush. The thought of my dotage being taken up by something worse is horrifying. If old, straight, white guys are feeling this way tonight, what must the politically aware POC, women and LGBT citizens of America be feeling?

Is this incoherent? I don't feel like I have the words to express my anxiety, my anger and my confusion. It's not supposed to be like this. I'm so angry at the people who encouraged this, who allowed it to happen and who stand to benefit from it. I want someone to pay.\

I'm not a control freak. Most of the time I hold my chin up and deal. Like everyone else in the world, I've survived everything that has ever happened to me. I'll survive the next week and the next four years, no matter what. Right? Right?

Someone asked me to write a blog post on whether I have faith in the future of humanity and I have been putting THAT off until after tonight because whatever happens today is really going to color my answer. That's overblown and over dramatic but it is also true. All we need is more air and water pollution and drill, baby, drill and "I'm not a scientist" types. I just want to scream profanity.

America is a mental ward tonight and there aren't any doctors available.

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