Love your job and “you have arrived”

golden-gate-bridge

The Golden Gate Bridge is under attack. Corrosive salt air, roadway contaminants, age, UV rays—all these things are trying to turn the majestic span into a pitted skeleton.

Luckily the bridge has a powerful ally: an elite squad of painters, numbering just a few dozen. These busy operatives scurry up, down, and around the span on a never-ending quest to keep it protected and looking sharp.

The job has its ups and downs. There’s the swinging through the sky, the whale-watching, and the wielding of badass tools reminiscent of alien torture implements. Less nice, there’s a weird kind of marine vertigo and regular exposure to suicides. But Chad Allan sounds like he’d prefer nothing else…

But being a painter also involves sublime beauty—hovering above the fog line, with the towers jutting up like periscopes on a hidden airship, or spying dolphins, orcas, and the occasional whale gliding silently below. For Allan, much of the pleasure comes from the work itself, and the pride of maintaining one of the most renowned bridges in the world.

“To be a Golden Gate Bridge painter,” he says, “you have arrived.”

Don’t miss John Metcalfe’s full story and interview of Chad Allan: The Fascinating, Never-ending Job of Painting the Golden Gate Bridge


Notes:

  • Thank you Beth @ Alive on All Channels.
  • Photo: wsj.com – Gateway to the World – David S. Boyer, California, 1955. An intrepid workman toils at the Sisyphean task of keeping the Golden Gate Bridge covered in a protective coat of orange paint. The National Geographic Society.

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

patty-maher-room-light

And me? What did I want? I could answer that question in the few moments it took me to climb onto the bus, take my seat, and let it carry me to work under the pale light of the afternoon moon. What did I want? Maybe to believe what I had denied for longer than I could remember: that life could be something other than just a series of days and weeks and years to get through. Slog through, with my head down and eyes averted. Instead, it could actually be interesting, rich with possibilities. It could even be mysterious. Very mysterious. It could keep me up all night, thinking. Wondering. Listening. It could make me want to keep tuning around the universal dial, trying to find out what I might hear. What I might encounter. What did I want? There was no doubt about that now. What did I want? I wanted more.

~ Eleanor Lerman, Radiomen


Notes:

Running. Without Tiger.

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Preparations started the night before.  Running jacket, shoes, pants, shirt, socks, hat, watch, ear buds – all placed near the front door to minimize obstructions and maximize propulsion, Out-The-Door.

4:30 am. I trudge down the stairs. I step out the door, barefooted, in shorts and a short sleeved white tee-shirt. A soft wind carries the smell of a black and white, a skunk, pre-dawn smelling salts. I inhale to clear the lungs, 39° F bites.

The Tiger clutches the cymbals with both hands, opening his arms wide and slams.  The noise, ear-splitting. He repeats and repeats.  Crashing. Slamming. Piling on.

Stay at it. Slow it down. Breathe. Quiet the Mind. Chant.
“Tame-the-Ti-ger.”
“Tame-the-Ti-ger.” 
“Tame-the-Ti-ger.”
“Tame-the-Ti-ger.”

Tiger separates from the body and ebbs higher, higher, and higher until reaching a crest. Salt kicks up in the mist where I stand, separate, still. The ebb makes its last gasp, the fight now gone, sighs and then releases. Continue reading “Running. Without Tiger.”

Chris·tian (n.)

patty-maher-portrait

A Christian is one who is on the way,
though not necessarily very far along it,
and who has at least some dim
and half-baked idea of whom to thank.

– Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC


Notes:

Petty: Being a person is a challenge

tom-petty

Alexandra Wolfe, Tom Petty Won’t Back Down:

…On the afternoon we meet, he’s sitting on the couch with his dog, Ryder, a golden lab with a red bandana tied around his neck. Alternating between drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes, he talks about how he’s gearing up for a reunion tour and new album with his first real band, Mudcrutch. The musician, known for hit songs such as “American Girl” (1976) and “Free Fallin’” (1989), hasn’t been on tour in two years, and it’s a departure from his usual band, the Heartbreakers. But for Mr. Petty, 65, reuniting with Mudcrutch is a kind of homecoming…

“I can’t stand to be bored,” he says. “I don’t cope with it—I’m not the best me I can be when I’m bored.” Over the years, he has immersed himself in his work to get through troubled times in his life.

Since childhood, he has listened to music as a way to escape. Mr. Petty says that his father, an Air Force veteran who worked as an insurance salesman, used to beat and verbally harass him. (His father died in 1999, and they never reconciled.) Going to therapy in the 1990s, he says, helped him to get through the anger and depression from his childhood. “I could really get mad easily, and it wasn’t attractive, and [after therapy] that went away for the most part, and I became somebody different.”

…He says that while the musical side of his life has gone well, “being a person is a challenge, but I think I’m a better one than I used to be.” He suffered through depression in the mid-1990s after divorcing his first wife and then again around 2001 when his close friend George Harrison died. Continue reading “Petty: Being a person is a challenge”