Friday, November 07, 2008

A trailer with a view.



November 7, Midland, Texas (29 miles, Washington park.)

Thursday, November 06, 2008

This America.

November 6, Odessa.

Both the city before and after Lubbock got canceled so we had a vacation of four days without moving. How strong are our habits, it felt good to clear the trailer for the trip and finally get moving.
Just like this country, which will soon be moving ahead again thanks to Obama.
The international euphoria over his victory is hard to understate, people are passionate, I get emails from friends from around the world and they are thrilled, there is relief and a renewed hope for the future, there has never been a better time to be here in the United States and I am proud of America - this America, the generous, the boundless, the energetic, the proudly diverse, optimistic America I fell in love with as a teenager.
It feels as if we are finally getting out of a long, dark tunnel, and the light is almost blinding but so warm.

A trailer with a view.


November 6, Odessa, Texas (149 miles, 42 Street and Golden Avenue.)

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

President Barack Hussein Obama.

November 4, Lubbock.

He won!
They're all deep into sleep over there in France but I know my friends and family are with me in rejoicing, they are with me in hardly believing what has just happened, the significance and scope of this victory, in a country that once, not so long ago, deemed the marriage of Barack Obama's parents illegal.
May Obama do as much good to this country, and the world, as we the people, in the United States, in France, in Morocco, in Peru and in Mexico, in villages in Africa and in sprawling cities in Asia, all hope he can.

Holding my breath the world over.

November 4, Lubbock.

I'm glued to the internet and the radio is non-stop on since late afternoon and in this I'm only just like the world over.
An email from a friend I grew up with, who is married to a Moroccan: "Mohamed is not moving from the TV, like all Arabs (even though he's Berber, not Arab) he hates Bush; I hope Americans will vote well, it will help the country's image around the world so much."
Not only is this election historic for Americans, it is historic for the whole world. Tonight we're all American, as the French newspaper Le Monde's famous headline said on 9/11.
The polls are about to close on the West Coast and as Robert Spiegel from NPR just said, Barack Obama is having quite a strong night.
The world is holding its breath.

Geometry.


November 4, Lubbock.

Furniture store in downtown Lubbock.

Street corner.


November 4, Lubbock.

Street corner in downtown Lubbock.

Better days.


November 4, Lubbock.

Lubbock is a strange town, a ghost town with too wide streets reverberating the emptiness, and the cobblestones out of place in what looks like the quintessential un-urban American landscape.

Abandoned building in downtown Lubbock.

Monday, November 03, 2008

Fridman.



November 3, Lubbock.

Fridman fell during his rolla bola act and came home laughing his head off while holding his ribs. It was in the second show tonight that his pedestal failed as he was coming down at the end of the act, and he tumbled all the way to the floor. Earlier he had rammed his knee into one of the tent's stakes during our photo session.
He's young enough that he'll recover quickly but not young enough that the injuries won't be felt later on.

Sunday, November 02, 2008

Later.


November 2, Lubbock.

The opposite view.


November 2, Lubbock.

Early call.

November 2, Lubbock.

Daylight savings time ended last night and the circus was treated to an early wake-up call.
Castro got the hour confused, woke up at 4:30 AM instead of the call time of 5:30 and proceeded to rouse up everybody but us when he started all the trucks, his morning task. When we poked our head out of the trailer at 5:35 we were the only one left except for John Moss.

A trailer with a view.


November 2, Lubbock, Texas (120 miles, Civic Center parking lot.)

Circus folks.

November 1, Amarillo.

It's nine o'clock, the generator came on, and John Moss just came knocking saying that "we underestimated Larry," the driver of one of the trucks that broke down. Apparently before they had his truck towed he pulled Fridman's props out of it and into the shop truck that made it to the lot OK.
Never underestimate circus folks.
I forgot about Larry. He appeared the way circus people do, out of nowhere, a month ago, and has been driving and doing odd jobs at the circus since. He was an animal trainer who got mauled badly by one of his tigers. I don't know much more about him, should find out before it's too late, in only a few more days.

A trailer with a (second) view.


November 1, Amarillo.

Hazardous circus conditions.

October 31, Amarillo.

Two small trucks broke down somewhere on highway 183 in Oklahoma, more than 200 miles away from here, and nobody thought to open them before having them towed to a shop where they'll remain until who knows when. Julio Rosales' truck also broke down just as it had during the first jump on Wednesday, and he's back there with it still. The result is that Fridman cannot do his acts because all his props are in one of the circus trucks, and the Rosales can't do their wheel of destiny act either because their props are in the other.
That's why there is a part of the program that says everything in this show is subject to change without notice due to the hazardous nature of circus performing.
Make that circus life.

Down the Western lane.

October 31, Amarillo.

Smells like Circus Chimera, feels like Circus Chimera, but hopefully business here won't be like Circus Chimera's. Adios beautiful Kelly Miller-style lots, well-tended city parks and the more than occasional playground, here come the scrawny, dusty, spiky grass lots so trademark of Chimera they should have copyrighted their use. And we've gone from sub-freezing temperatures to near-A.C. weather in two days. No wonder everybody's got a cold. Again des enfants sages comme des images all along the trip, even though they woke up at nine this time. True traveling circus kids they are.
Another big jump, and the most boring, longest highway in the world, highway 287 in the Texas panhandle, and Texas means radio desert (between religious radio and country radio the choice is yours) and that in turn means I got to brush up on my Doors (gave up on my Bob Dylan's, cassette's older than me, too many road trips and showing it) and take a trip down memory lane with pretty boy Lloyd Cole and his Commotions, the perfect idol for the neurotic post-adolescent circa 1986.
When you're strange...

A trailer with a (late) view.


October 31, Amarillo, Texas (315 miles, vacant lot.)

Prize winner.


October 29, Ardmore.

Cry Baby Dylan.


October 29, Ardmore.