aric with an a

I had, simply, a fantastic day.

most of my days are good,

and for this I am the luckiest.

but today,

today was extra special.

got love and energy and things,

from people I know,

people I barely know,

and some I’ve never met.

all of this, while seeing a place I’ve dreamed about ever since I can remember.

simply, a fantastic day.

I’ve been an asshole.

unintentional, but an asshole nontheless.

and am a bit embarrassed, but never mind.

last night, I hopped on an overnight train down south,

taking with me my little bag,

and initial thoughts on this project.

someone commented on the first post and, while cowardly as posting anonymously is,

it did get me thinking.

‘why am I doing this?’ - well, to meet some folks, and let them tell me their story. plenty of charities/NGO’s/individuals doing good things and could use some help getting the word out.

and, while not a pro, I can get a decent story out.

that’s when it hit me.

I was going about this selfishly.

very selfishly.

I’ve been given on the the most blessed lives and yet, here I am, still asking for things.

buy my photos?

help me meet people in Africa?

I’ve been handed so, so much yet found myself still asking.

and then, something else hit me.

an idea.

so, scratch the ‘help me meet people’ thing.

and sorry about that.

here’s what I’m going to do - even if it means losing the platform of Nat Geo, who emailed yesterday to say ‘they’re still super interested’.

[bear with me, it's only a day old, this idea, so might be klunky in the explanation part.]

…

charity.

we all like charity, and have most likely given to a few. but, fair-or-not, we always walk away hoping that our money actually gets to the people in need.

take Haiti, for example, it’s become a bit of a mess.

and that $20 you give, well, by the time it gets to the place you want it to, it’s more like $7.

and I understand that - a little.

but, what if, what if, there was a way to, almost instantaneously, see a need, give and see your offering in use.

well, I think there is, and I got no sleep in my moving bunk last night coming up with this idea.

tell me what you think of this:

I would head to a place, a village or whathaveyou, and through the local contact find out what they are in need of - let’s say that there’s 20 kids in the area, none of which have shoes, but they all want to play football without cutting up their feet. they run about $20 a pair in the nearest city.

this would be filmed, edited and uploaded within 3-4 days of arriving; a 2-3 minute short. here’s the place, here’s the problem, here’s how much the shoes cost.

still with me?

cool.

ok - here’s the fun part.

I’d have a phone with me, internet capable. we release the link on Twitter/Facebook/etc and for 24 hours, accept donations via PayPal. on the 25th hour we’d take the money donated, run back into town [all of this being filmed], buy however many shoes we got money for [hopefully all], head back into town, hand ‘em out to the kids and turn ‘em loose. I’d take the footage and edit another short within 24 hours or so, meaning that within 2-3 days of releasing the original video, people who donated would be able to see exactly where their $20 went.

that’s it.

I really, really don’t see how this wouldn’t work.

I really don’t.

that was written ['I really don't'] about 12 times in my diary last night - not all at once, but intermittently…if I’m using that word right.

so, let me know what you think about this idea.

I’m going to go after finding a corporate sponsor for the back-end of things…

and to be totally transparent, here’s what I’m asking for:

- my expenses [transport, food, visas, internet connection, a roof, etc] would be around $1000 or so a month.

- web design and constant support - am guessing about $1000.

- any equipment we might need [for now, I could film it on the little Leica and use my portable mic for sound, but eventually would want a real cameracorder] - $2000 to be safe.

- salary for the local guide/translator - [no idea]

…which would bring it to around 8-10k for a 4-month project.

while that might seem like a lot to you [me as well], I can tell you that for a corporation, this is shrapnel.

…

give me your thoughts, friend. advice? what am I not thinking of? what could go wrong?

anything you got.

many thanks to Leah Lamb at Current TV for mentioning my new little project.

shoulders & giants, I’m tellin’ ya.

dangerously close to the most amazing place I’ve ever been,

are up here.

but don’t do it an ounce of justice.

’so late, not much light!’ he said,

having just recognized I wanted to throw my bag down,

get there

and thus, charging me quite a bit more.

I knew from the shadows already on the desk I had a good 40 minutes.

but didn’t know how far away that place,

that place

was.

my bag was thrown down on the hard bed,

with no thought that my expensive were in it.

into a car,

to the gate,

not one eye blinking at the $64 dollar entrance fee.

past the tombs,

that usually I’d stop for.

it wasn’t a run, more of a power-walk.

I could run in croc’s,

this I, Tim and a ex-girlfriend’s stalker know.

but I wouldn’t.

unless the sun began to recline.

and into the valley, with it’s brown and red and yellow highlights.

the tour groups following the flag up the other way,

‘poor man’ they must have thought, had they not been thinking about their bus seats.

but that was okay,

I didn’t care what I looked like.

there was a place, a simple place,

that I’d been wanting to see ever since Indiana saw it.

a silly reason for going? maybe to you.

maybe to me.

around this corner? no - more corners.

past an opening,

and another bend.

it had to be close,

it had to be close.

and then…

it was.

peeking around that warped door,

there it was.

brother, I’ve seen some things.

and been mildly impressed.

but this,

this,

this was something.

so landlord, play that movie one more time,

I want to see where they stood,

so I can too.

a silly boy who’d been dreaming about this for a while.

and then I’ll go to bed, I promise.

cause there’s a man with a beard who I promised a cigarette,

there’s a road to it that I kind of know now.

and there’s a place in a rock that I need to touch once more in the morning,

to be reconfirm that I’m there

and reaffirm that it’s still there too.

it’s late.

and I’ve been a writing fool today,

basking in the comfort that only an old friend,

a wonderful and generous family,

wifi,

beer,

and heating can provide.

but I wanted to share a little something I’ve picked up along the way.

a long way, actually.

see, nothing makes G-d laugh more than when I plan.

I could show you diary entries-upon-entries of my little lists,

money I had, things I was going to see.

and they never turned out like I wrote.

travel loves it as well,

especially this side of the world.

trust.

so I stayed an extra day here,

meaning my trip tomorrow to Petra was going to be an adventure.

I couldn’t tell you why, exactly, I stayed,

as it meant I would be rushed and I hate that.

especially in a place like I suppose Petra will be.

but I stayed.

got some writing done, as you’ve seen.

caught up with someone I hadn’t.

laughed some more with Ryan.

things like this.

today didn’t go as planned when I woke up.

but it turned out nicer in a way I didn’t expect.

and I’ve been doing that, as of late.

if the boat is canceled, maybe I would have sprained an ankle on the deck.

the ho[s]tel is full? then perhaps there’s someone I’m supposed to meet at the next one.

no more money? then I’m going to have to reach deep to find out what I’m made of.

things like this.

so - and here’s where I border on being the ‘let me tell you something’ guy,

let me tell you something….

next time the cards don’t fall, or stack up like you wanted them too,

look closer.

pay more attention.

cause we’re all on a little adventure of some sort,

but that’s all we are - on it.

it’s just up to us whether or not we choose to take a photo when stuck up on the ferris wheel,

or bitch to the carnival manager.

okay, so.

here’s the big idea.

I wanted to wait until I had a bit more time to talk it over with some folks,

but this is the last night I’ll be at Ryan’s - with his free wifi and beers.

a dangerous combination, usually, but hey.

I made enough, thanks to people like you, to get to Africa.

but I can’t just do a few pyramids and say ‘yep - been to Africa.’

I want to experience it in a way that only being poor could.

tourism, it’s all be tourism - just longer than most, I think.

I want an adventure.

so here it is:

cairo to capetown…with no money.

[the only cash I'll keep will be for internet access, as this depends on it - $15 a week]

no money.

overland.

quick - look at a map.

that’s a long way down.

and into some dicey areas.

Sudan? dangerous in places, yes.

even Brother Scott had a few words of warning for me about Sudan - and he’s the bravest cat I know.

so, a week or so ago, I wrote it off and was just going to try and find a few NGO’s to work with.

but it kept at me, this little thought.

and then there was this fantastic lady I shared a cab with who just so happened to have lived/worked in Sudan.

so I took that as a sign.

and I finally spent money I don’t have on the domain.

fuck me, I’m off topic and haven’t even explained it.

sorry.

no money, just asking, in advance, for friends-of-friends

or charities you might know

who’d let me show up, do a bit of work, or help get their message out

in exchange for a bite to eat, a blanket and a ride into the next town.

I might have to hitchhike.

I might have to have a few pages of phrases translated each place I go.

I might, as a semi-healthy white guy, get some funny looks when it’s me begging for food,

but I’m living proof to the kindness of strangers.

I’m living proof on how Facebook/Twitter helps you meet people.

and I’m living proof you need not be educated, wealthy, nor informed to travel.

this is the project I spoke with Nat Geo a few times about - still don’t think they’ll legally be able to do it.

and that’s okay, it was the confidence I needed to get me to the next step.

so - I’ve bought the site, and admitted it publicly.

and in a few weeks, I’m going to try and do it.

but will, once again, need your help.

…

we’ll start with the first three countries - who do you know in either Egypt, Sudan or Ethiopia who’d be willing to help?

what am I not thinking of?

what should I prepare in advance for?

and if you don’t think it can be done, tell me why.

this is Ryan.

my original best friend.

his family was my family - still is.

we dove Cayman twice.

hiked Colorado twice.

dined at Frank and Kathy Lee’s once.

and usually always have a role in our ‘old stories’.

he was the first, the pioneer,

moving to Israel 16 years ago,

after visiting once.

he writes for a well-known publication.

and is my friend.

the kind of friend that needs not a catch-up,

but just a beer.

I like friends like these.

this might not look like much of a view to you,

I mean, it’s nice, new to some, old to others,

but this valley, the spot where I stood when I took it

was an important spot to me.

see, it was ‘98, I think, I was quickly becoming an asshole,

an asshole on the radio.

and decided to take a 2-week vacation,

over to Israel to see my highschool b.f.f., Ryan.

so I went and we went out, had beers and tried to look good smoking nargila.

traveled all around, even through the West Bank and up to the Golan Heights.

[it was up there on a kibbutz I tried to chat up a girl who rolled her eyes

[I probably shouldn't have told her about being a well-known radio dj]

but this spot we’re talking about,

happened on the 2nd day.

‘you see that tree?’ Ryan asked, pointing out a tree, as you do when you say something like that.

‘that one?’

‘no, further up - that one.’

‘okay, yeah, I see it.’

‘historians think this would have been the spot where Judas hung himself.’

wow.

and when I type/say/remember saying ‘wow’, it’s not out of Biblical remembrance,

but more of a realization that the stories I grew up with,

happened.

somewhere, to someone.

the Bible, history books, Indiana Jones, etc.

[okay, maybe not Dr. Jones, but I was 12 - and still hope he was based on someone]

but the spot - the spot.

I stood there and, be it historically correct or not,

it represented a whole world outside of late-night dedications and 9-minute Pearl Jam b-sides.

2-weeks later, I came back,

started re-visiting maps, the ones I loved so much before discovering basketball, girls and being known.

left radio - mainly because they asked me to,

after an all-out attack on our boss, the city, people I knew, etc.

I’d always wondered why I did it, this thing that ended up in a slander lawsuit,

and chalked it up to needing to be heard, to be known,

but the more I think about it,

it was life pulling me back into those stories that kept my attention.

and now, it’s a dangerous addiction.

because the cab driver in NYC was from Tunisia.

these coffee beans came from Guatemala.

it would kill me to know you went to Easter Island and I didn’t.

things like this.

things like that.

things like looking out into a valley,

and being told it was a place I’d heard about,

and was now there.

a funny thing happened outside,

while I was having a cigarette in the cold East Jerusalem rain.

my 2010 being one of adventure,

I asked for this.

but also one of worry less about bucks, nuggets and pennies from heaven.

there’s always the worry,

no matter who temporarily vacates,

of having enough once you’re there.

‘I’d like to do this.’

‘I’d like to see that.’

but the things I like to do most,

are

travel and take pictures,

write

and drink beer with my friends and family.

the photos are free to take - we’ve even seen them help me along my way.

writing is free, or would be if I wasn’t so obsessed with having a Moleskine.

and while I’m very, very lucky to have good people in my life all over,

the majority of those close always end up being far away from my guidebook map.

which means there’s only my gallivanting left.

[or is it 'galavanting'? I don't know, really.]

the things I have to pay to see rarely end up being worth having to pay to see,

so, at the end of it all, I like showing up.

she once told me that’s what I was best at.

meaning I feel, I hope, I think,

that it’s becoming more-and-more a case of

‘do I have enough to get there?’

as opposed to the aforementioned.

[I think that's my favorite word, 'aforementioned' or 'cake', one of those]

so, will I have enough to get to Africa?

yes.

and something tells me, perhaps the past 10 years or so,

that the rest, the tomorrows

seem to take care of themselves.

and that’s exciting.

I’m excited.

because, well…

tomorrows have been happening for a long, long time.