Flying to Africa - January 5th

We are time travelers, having passed through an entire solar day in a matter of hours by traveling from West to East in a 777 Boeing. Over the Atlantic Ocean, I have never seen such darkness as I saw outside of my window. Only once have I seen a speck of light that may have been a lone freighter within sight of no other lights that I could spy. Earlier, when there was daylight, there was the vast emptiness of the ocean itself that somehow seemed frozen in time. On the beach it is in constant motion, from however many tens of thousands of feet in the air we were, it appears unsettlingly motionless Other times there were "snow drifts" of clouds below the plane as far as my eyes could see. Can you tell I had the window seat?

To add to the slightly surreal quality of it all--because Jessica and I purposely got only a few hours of sleep last night before leaving Asheville at 1:30am--I have seen these dreamlike vistas as I drift in and out of sleep, often waking up to a whole new alien world. I wonder, considering these new domains, if this is what interstellar travelers will experience if some kind of suspended animation is involved.

Continuing the alien worlds theme, I felt a bit like Luke Skywalker walking into the Mos Eisley Cantina the first time when we reached the Ethiopian Air terminal at Dulles in D.C. I caught a smattering of French, but everything else was a wild polyglot polyphony. Jessica lamented not understanding hardly anyone, sad that she couldn't know what had made someone smile, or a child laugh.

Most of the travelers seem a happy bunch. Most seem to be returning home, several as families but plenty of individuals as well. One such individual standing by the Ethiopian Air counter, an older man dressed in a nice somewhat faded brown suit, asked us, "Are you going to Ethiopia?" We told him we were on our way to Chad, and he smiled and said, with only good hearted pride of home, "Ah, Ethiopia is better."

Most of the passengers are dressed no differently from your average american, especially the men, but there's a woman with beautiful piece of beaded jewelry that frames one woman's face, several head scarves, and dresses in prints you wouldn't normally see on the racks at Gap. Adjusting my bag while going through the jetway, I was startled at the sight of the gentleman behind me, and hid a smile. I motioned Jessica to look back and we both had to share a smile over the solemn African man wearing a very festive Mexican sombrero. "Where's your traveling hat?" Jessica asked.

The "Boeing Triple Seven," as the nice british man in the safety video called it, is the largest plane I've ever been on. It feels incredibly spacious and roomy, not like the Greyhound Busses with wings that I'm used to. In some ways, it almost feels like a long narrow movie theater that we're all patrons of, though instead of a large screen, we each have a small screen built into the headrest of the seat in front of us.

Jessica notes its the most family friendly flight she can remember taking. The front-most seats of the economy class face a bulkhead and for those with infants, there are basinets that hook onto the wall, large enough to serve as changing tables, which is how it was used several times on the flight. On our flight from Charlotte to Dulles, there was a couple with an infant who realized just before take-off that their child needed a change of diaper. The stewardess, told them to hurry from their cramped economy seats to the cramped bathroom at the rear of the plane (hurrying, it turns out, wasn't necessary as that particular flight was delayed taking off by 40 mins, which thankfully caused us no problems). People are also very free to move about the cabin, and people walking up and down the aisles visiting friends or family. Babies are passed over seat-backs, and while no children run around the plane, parents walk them up and down the aisle when they get a little stir-crazy.

Considering the number of languages and skin tones on the flight, we probably could have ended up with just about anyone from anywhere in Africa to fill the empty seat. But instead we get Lincoln from Tennessee who's as white as I am. Coincidentally or Providentially, his former Youth Pastor is now lead Pastor at Highland Church that worships at the Orange Peel in Asheville. Lincoln is headed to Ethopia to live there for a year and a half working with the Ordinary Hero mission to find adoptive parents for kids there. On the flight he read Mere Christianity, making copious marginal notes, and My Utmost for His Highest, which I recognize as a popular Protestant spiritual work. I feel right at home in this row reading St. Theresa of Avila just a few seats over.

At 5:30pm Asheville time, it was dark as we were over the Dark Continent at late night. It's not quite a solidly dark land below as there are clusters of electric lights, but they are isolated clusters with utter darkness in between. The roads connecting the groups of lights are not lit, and I can only occasionally pick one out by the few vehicle headlights I see tracing a path by connecting their points of light like the handle of the Big Dipper. It almost makes the amount of streetlights in the U.S. obscene, lighting our gluttonous need for constant transport of goods that necessitates how much we light our highways.

Occasionally, distant from any constellation of lights that represents a town (I'm assuming), will be a solitary point of light. I can't help wonder at the story of these single stars, and what people live within its lonely glow.

A bear-able situation.

About fifteen minutes ago, Jessica lightly shrieks, "David, there's a bear!" and sure enough, a small black bear is lumbering just beyond the rail of our apartment porch. We "follow" it, going into the next room and through the window watch it idly padding past the rest of the apartments on its way to Alexander Dr. where we lose sight of it. I, of course, did not have my glasses on, so all I saw was an even fuzzier than normal black bear, but I did see it well enough to notice it wore a tagged collar. That made me wish even more for my glasses, so I could possible read its ID number to let someone know s/he'd been spotted.

Not "our" bear, but one spotted recently in Asheville.

Not that long ago, my friend Allison's dad had a bear "greet" him as he was taking out the trash in Weaverville. My dad saw a bear crossing Rice Branch Rd. just the other day, and twice recently while Jessica and I have been out walking neighbors have told us to keep an eye out for bears. First the turkeys were everywhere, now the bears ... this may not be a coincidence.

I remember when a bear had taken up residence across the street from my Mom's library for a few days and people were excited to stand in the parking lot taking pictures and watching it. A couple years before that, it was BIG news that a bear had been seen on Merrimon Ave. Bear sightings are still told with some concern and surprise, but less and less so over time. It will be curious to see if Ashevillains becomes relatively okay with the occasional bear wandering about but taking more precautions with dogs, trash, and gardens.

Whatever happens, it made for an interesting moment this morning, and I could resist after the bear headed up Alexander: "Wanna go for a run?"

Mini-reviews: Top 5 Restaurants in Asheville

Over at Hold the Onions written by the inimitable and amazing +joan childress wilkerson, joan posted her Top Five Places to Eat In Asheville, and while it's a list that won't do you wrong, I figured I'd offer my take.

1. *Sunny Point Café* - the Huevos Fucheros/Rancheros I could eat until I was sick. [http://www.sunnypointcafe.com/]
2. *Taqueria Fast* - technically in Woodfin, _Taqueria Fast_ has the best tacos authenticos I've found, and everything from the Jalisco-Mexican menu is tasty. [http://www.mountainx.com/article/9304/Taqueria-Fast]
3. *Green Tea Sushi* - when eating Japanese with a crowd of diverse tastes, Wasabi might be a better pick (they have stuff my dad likes, and that's not easy), but for straight up Sushi lovers, it's Green Tea is Asheville for my money [http://www.greenteasushi.com/]
4. *Asheville Pizza and Brewing Co.* - One could argue the finer points of various pizza joints and styles from the rising of the sun until its setting and back again. I say screw that and give me a Shear Delight Pie and a pint of Fire Escape (jalapeno beer!) to wash it down. [http://www.ashevillebrewing.com/]
5. *French Broad Chocolate Lounge* - no matter where you eat dinner, especially if you're downtown, don't order dessert off the menu but take the walk down to the French Broad Chocolate Lounge. Worth the inevitable line, often stretching out the door, the chocolates, cakes, cookies, liquid truffles ... ::goes into chocolate shock just writing about it:: whew, sorry. It's a must [http://frenchbroadchocolates.com/]

• Cheating 6th spot: *Mamacitas* - When it has to be burritos instead of tacos, burritos so big that you need the nachos to scoop up the overflowing ingredients, the Baja inspired Mamacitas is the way to go. Plus, I'm a sucker for the calaveras and Dia de los Muertos inspired art. [http://www.mamacitasgrill.com/]

Of course, in a town as culinarily diverse and excellent as Asheville, I'm leaving off too many places (joan did a *headdesk* when she realized she'd forgotten Sunny Point), but if you wanted to make my tummy happy, you'd be safe taking me to any of these.

“Nuns on Top” is base | Mountain Xpress | Asheville, NC

Mountain Xpress printed my letter criticizing the crudity of their article announcing Thirsty Monk owner Barry Bialik's proposed expansion "Nuns on Top" and urging the editors to ask Mr Bialik to change the name to something better suited to Asheville. I continue to urge everyone to write Mr. Bialik at hello@monkpub.com asking him to change the profane, sexist, and crude name to something befitting family-friendly downtown Asheville.

 “Nuns on Top” is base | Mountain Xpress | Asheville, NC: 

Dear Editors of the Mountain Xpress,

I am a citizen of Asheville, a strong supporter of local business and a frequent reader of the Mountain Xpress, my most trusted source for news in Western North Carolina. Your articles are usually the finest journalism covering the area and often champion what is best in Asheville and the surrounding area, fighting to make Western North Carolina a better place for all. 

So I was surprised and appalled at the language Emily Patrick chose for the opening paragraph of her Sept. 5 article "Nuns on Top set to join the Thirsty Monk,” and equally shocked that the editors allowed it to be published as written. The name of the proposed establishment is bad enough, an issue I have taken up with owner Barry Bialik and urge you to do the same, but Ms. Patrick's references to nuns mounting the Thirsty Monk in addition to monastic life getting "boozier" is uglier and grosser than the name alone. It certainly highlights the profane and lascivious nature of the name, but even if the name is risqué, I expect better journalism from the Xpress; I expected a journalistic spirit that does not sink to the basest of humor, degrading women, Christianity and our city in one-fell swoop. 

I strongly urge at least the rewriting of the article for the website. 

I support Bialik's entrepreneurial success and cheer that a bar I consider on of the finer downtown establishments is expanding its space and offerings especially in these times of economic struggle. I trust and respect the Mountain Xpress and admire its general integrity and solid public voice, hoping that voice continues to ring clear and true. But the proposed name and the language of the article tarnish our community, the Thirsty Monk and the Xpress. Asheville is a better city than that, the Thirsty Monk is a better place than that and Bialik is a finer man than that. 

Please refrain from such low and cheap humor — even when it stares you in the face — and consider publicly and privately asking Bialik to change an unfortunate and profane name, one he shouldn't want associated the great name of Thirsty Monk. 

— David Michael Mayeux

An open letter to the Asheville City Council

Honorable Mayor, Distinguished Councilors,

I am a citizen of Asheville, a city that I dearly love, and a member of the parish of St Lawrence. Due to work, I will not be able to attend tonight's meeting of the Council that determines the fate of the Haywood St lot whose destiny rests in your hands by the providential hand of God, but I wanted to make sure that I shared my voice concerning the hopes for the Haywood St development. I have looked at the various proposed plans, and I see merit in them all. But I urge you to consider with favor the Diocese of Charlotte and the Basilica of St. Lawrence's proposal for the St. Lawrence Plaza. Being so close to the issue, it is hard to be objective, but I have given over my heart in prayer and while I do not think that any issue of such importance should be dealt with objectively, I have tried to consider this with the eyes of reason, as well as those of heart.

In many ways, for me the issue is not one of aesthetics—I actually think the McKibbon Hotel Group did a nice job of conforming their proposed architecture to match the Vanderbilt Apartments—or of finance—of COURSE Asheville could use the taxes—but one of family. 

Our city thrives on tourism, and I'm elated that so many people find our city interesting and beautiful enough to be worthy of their time, interest, and yes, money. But Downtown is the heart of the city, and with Haywood St the site of Malaprops Bookstore, Earth Guild, the Woolworth Art Gallery, the Chocolate Fetish and many many other fine business ... it is the heart of Asheville's renewal from a listless old resort town. And yes, with the Basilica at one "end" and Church St essentially at the other, it is a spiritual heart of the city as well. It is a street of cherished family memories. What brings tourists into the city and into Downtown are not the amenities or the nearness of the hotels to our city's heart and soul, because those amenities and spirit were there before the hotels. Tourists love the purity of our city, that it is a place that we lovingly care for and make our own. We gladly share with open and charitable arms to any who visit, but Asheville is home first, which is why it's so inviting to visitors.

Every home has a guest room, but it's never smack dab in the middle of the Family Room. When houses become so filled with guests that you have to set up people on the couch ... people notice, and then what should be a fun visit, becomes a cramped and awkward situation. Putting up a hotel on Haywood St is filing up the family room with guests (and we all know what Mark Twain said about guests and fish). We don't want that; they don't want that.

Haywood St has a nice symmetry to it: I already mentioned the spiritual houses that cap both ends; there's an even number of eateries and shops, county and city services; architecture of historical interest, particularly in the S&W building and, again, the Basilica. Why not achieve greater balance of Haywood St, with public spaces at both ends, Pritchard Park to the North and the St Lawrence Plaza to the south. In fact, I have often thought that the particular curve of Haywood St at that location, creates something of a dead-end for tourist traffic. Opening up that space with a Plaza opens up that end of the city, so that more people flow toward the Grove Arcade and the other wonderful shops that border it. Some of you have shown an interest in whatever funds become available to the city related to this development  being available for affordable housing. Homes should be at the heart of this matter, and it is wonderful that the Basilica's proposal includes such homes in its design.

You have heard all these arguments, but it boils down to this: our city, our community, should consider family first, always. The St Lawrence Plaza is a good idea, and it's one proposed by your friends and your family at St Lawrence Basilica. Thus, the St Lawrence Plaza is in the best interest of the city; it is in the best interest of Family.

Thank you,

David Mayeux

the lexical treasures of m. john harrison

M. John Harrison has the richest vocabulary I think I've ever encountered in an author. His adjectives, especially, come from obscure realms of biology (esp. ornithology), geology, medicine, and what I imagine to be crumbling tomes of cant and argot.  The list below are words from his Viriconium stories the epic The Pastel City and mind-boggling A Storm of Wings. Every page was a lexical treasure trove of obscure words but were bon mots one and all, inspiring the imagination with their poetic sound. I kept pen and paper ever at my side as I read.

I share because, if you're reading this, you likely someone who enjoys arcane additions to your lexicon, or you know that I do, so you put up with it.

Phonetic Limerick

Some Friday morning doggerel for you:

Of odd spellings and sounds, he'd enough—

Duane complained, they were all very tough.

Said his teacher, Ms. Proulx,

"That's enough; you are through."

Said Duane: "Don't you mean that I'm thruff?"