I finally did it! I have created an online store at WayOutLife.com, where I have shirts, water bottles, mugs, hats, bags, and other merchandise with my art on it. Buying my products helps me to keep doing what I do, bringing the joy and philosophy of the way out life to people everywhere. Look it over.
I like writing. In addition to managing this blog, I also post on FloraAndFaunaOfTheUniverse.com, a blog on the biology of aliens. I have been creating fictional plants, animals, and microbes my entire life and I now have enough ideas to fill several books I am still working on. I also link to the books, projects, and resources of others in this growing genre. If you have a relevant project or want your organisms featured, let me know. Use the contact form on this page.
I have started a community at locals.com for people to discuss writing, art, travel, philosophy, science, and science fiction. I hope to inspire hope, bravery, appreciation of nature, interest in science, respect for logic, and awe of the creator. This binds up all my different projects. Below is the charter:
Charting Existence is a support group for seekers of adventure. We encourage each other to recognize problems and solve them. We breed heroes. We help people find adventure and we help people see that in some ways life is already an adventure. We discuss travel, science, philosophy, and science fiction.
We are all explorers. Some of us explore land and sea. Some explore space. Some explore the nature of matter and energy through experiment. Some explore the human mind through self-reflection. We are all on an expedition for knowledge, a quest for truth, and a journey to understand. This is where we swap our stories of heroism and cowardice and genius and stupidity, whether true or fabricated. Even fictional stories tell much truth about the storyteller.
We use our creativity to create art. We use our creativity to recognize art, digging up the beauty in things normally passed over, and to celebrate the beauty in others. We will not ignore the bad, but will find the good hidden inside. We celebrate the wonder and intricate complexities of nature, giving glory to the creator of everything, whatever form he (she? It?) might take.
Here we discuss philosophy, religion, science, math, and literature. Everyone puts forth their wacko fringe theories only to have them torn down because no finite idea can ever fully capture truth. The incompleteness theorem, the Berry paradox, chaos theory, cyclic conformal cosmology, and eternal inflation all strongly imply there will always be something outside our understanding. For all we know, the universe is infinite.
In an infinite universe, the laws of probability tell us that any combination of matter allowable under the laws of physics will exist somewhere. This means that even fictional places such as Vulcan, Tatooine, Gallifrey, and Narnia actually exist. This means that there are infinitely many parallel Earths, some of them just slightly different, some of them slightly ahead or behind us in time.
In an infinite universe must be beings capable of building advanced simulations wherein different laws of physics reign, allowing anything that can be coherently described. By playing the simulation forward and backward, time travel is possible. Some of these simulations may be infinitely large and infinitely old. For all we know, we are in one now.
In an infinite universe are multiple infinities that will interact in potentially paradoxical and unpredictable ways, leading to situations mortal minds will not comprehend, such that even some internally contradictory ramblings might in some sense be “true.”
Instead of dreaming of some magical place that might await us after death, we live it now.
“That is the exploration that awaits you, not mapping stars and studying nebula, but charting the unknown possibilities of existence.” – Q, Star Trek The Next Generation
It has come to my attention that nobody reads blogs. People these days want video and audio. Unfortunately, I’m not very good at these. I forget to say things I wanted to say, I lose my train of thought, and I struggle with how best to word things in a language other people will understand. I have no patience for editing and something usually goes wrong when I try. Still, I am reminded of something the Apostle Paul once said: “My strength works best in your weakness.”
I have started a YouTube channel at Way Out Dan. I talk about philosophy and draw alien creatures.
Several years ago, I wrote a short story from Nate’s childhood, when he was a dinosaur. Nate is the main character from my book, The Spider, The Witch, And The Spaceship. Read it below:
After landing on the autumn side of an Earth-like planet unknown to them, Nathaniel, Haticat, Fred, and Doctor Bill exit their ship in search of food. Soon, they discover a large building with duck-billed hadrosaurs walking into it. They enter into the great hall through the thirteen-meter-tall doorway. Inside are two long dining tables laden with food. Above burn oil-filled chandeliers, flames roaring. The wooden walls smell of cedar, cinnamon, and bay berry. At one table sits only adults and at the other sits only children.
An adult blocks their path. “Welcome to planet Thanksgiving. I am Wizard Bob. What are you thankful for?”
Nathaniel gives Wizard Bob a blank stare. “What’s thankful?”
“It’s when you like something that you have, so you give thanks for it,” Wizard Bob explains.
“I don’t think I have any thanks; I’m new to the planet. What is it?” Nathaniel replies.
“You give thanks by saying thank you,” Wizard Bob clarifies.
“Oh, that’s easy; I can do that,” Nathaniel says. This is an unusually patient adult to answer two questions in a row. This must be a nice planet, Nathaniel concludes.
“So, what are you thankful for?” Wizard Bob asks again.
Nathaniel thinks. “I haven’t thanked anyone in a long time. I usually get everything myself. Sometimes I buy stuff, but the stores only give me things because I use money to make them do it. My friends helped me fight a monster a while ago, but they had to anyways because it attacked all of us together at the same time,” Nathaniel recounts.
“That all counts. Praise Y, creator of the universe!” Wizard Bob exclaims.
“Y? What does Y have to do with it?” Nathaniel asks.
“Y helped you fight a monster,” Wizard Bob says.
“No, I never saw Y. My friends helped me,” Nathaniel corrects.
“Y gave you friends,” Wizard Bob says.
“No, I picked them up on planet Gruezhe,” Nathaniel corrects.
“Y created the whole universe, including Gruezhe and your friends. Thank Y!” Wizard Bob loudly proclaims.
“That means Y created everything bad in the universe too,” Nathaniel protests.
“It still made everything good that you like, want, and need,” Wizard Bob counters.
“But it also made me with wants and needs. I wouldn’t need anything if I didn’t exist, so fulfilling my needs is only fair. There’s nothing to thank Y for. I don’t understand,” Nathaniel explains.
“Thank Y for giving you life!” Wizard Bob exclaims.
“Why?” Nathaniel asks.
“Do you want to die?” Wizard Bob asks, scowling and stepping closer to the four boys.
Nathaniel steps back. “No,” he answers.
“Then thank Y!” Wizard Bob says.
“I don’t want to die only because I’m already alive, but if I was dead or never existed, I wouldn’t care either way,” Nathaniel says, starting to become frustrated with the pointlessness of the conversation. He considers walking away.
“By being alive, you are able to experience good things,” Wizard Bob says.
“By being alive, I am also able to experience bad things,” Nathaniel says.
“Y could have created the universe much worse than it is, with even more bad things. Thank Y,” Wizard Bob says, starting to seem a little tired.
“No!” Nathaniel yells defiantly.
“If you don’t thank Y, you aren’t allowed to eat,” Wizard Bob says.
Nathaniel thinks it over. The ship is almost out of food and the next-nearest planet with carbon-based life is more than two hundred sixty light-years away. “Thank you, Y.”
“Thank him for what?” Wizard Bob asks.
Nathaniel thinks for a long time. “For oxygen?” he finally says.
“Hmm…okay,” Wizard Bob says, “Come in and eat.”
The boys find four seats near each other at the kids’ table away from any girls. Robots continually replace foods that are eaten. “Hi,” Haticat greets the boys nearby.
“Hi,” a boy replies.
“We’re new on the planet Thanksgiving,” Haticat says.
“What kind of a food is this?” Fred asks, pointing at large, twisted gourds placed in groups along the long table. Some are striped. Some are plaid. Some are over two meters tall.
“We don’t eat those,” the boy answers, “Those are for decoration.”
Nathaniel reaches for a slice of hot apple pie topped with what he later learns is spiced pumpkin ice cream. He picks up a spoon. “Don’t eat that yet,” the boy warns, “Dessert is for after dinner.”
“What do we eat first?” Nathaniel asks.
“First course is mashed potatoes, peas, and gravy, except I don’t eat the peas or the gravy because I don’t like them. Second course is bread, cheese, and pickles. Third course is meat and stuff. Fourth course is sweets,” the boy explains.
“There’s an eating order?” Fred asks.
“It’s the rules on planet Thanksgiving,” the boy affirms.
“Do you have pizza on this planet?” Nathaniel asks.
“No, only certain foods are allowed, not pizza,” the boy says.
Nathaniel enjoys three types of mashed potatoes and three types of gravy. He drinks white grape juice and cranberry juice. Then he tries some strong wheat bread and places a piece of sharp cheddar in it. “Don’t put different foods together!” an adult warns, walking up behind him.
“I’m just making a sandwich, so it’s a new food,” Nathaniel explains.
“Sandwiches are not for Thanksgiving! Sandwiches are illegal. Only gravy can be combined with other foods,” the adult says before walking away, not watching Nathaniel to ensure compliance.
Nathaniel returns to eating, enjoying pickled cucumbers, pickled onions, pickled green beans, pickled baby corn, and three types of olives. Then he cuts slices of meat from a steaming, partial carcass. It is of an animal he does not recognize. Looking at it intently, he is unable to deduce its whole anatomy. It is a strange animal, indeed. The meat tastes somewhat like a cross between pork and sweet crab, but this is an inadequate description.
“Do you like stuff?” another nearby boy asks.
“What stuff?” Nathaniel asks.
“Stuff. It’s the greatest stuff in the universe,” the boy answers, handing Nathaniel a plate of fluffy, brown mush.
Nathaniel tastes it. It is amazing and possibly the best-tasting substance Nathaniel has ever tried, even rivaling candy. The taste is completely indescribable and can only be called “stuff.” He takes more and more. He eats until full. Even then, he cannot stop. Finally, he forces himself away from the table. His belly aches and he starts to feel sleepy. He sees the adults and children lying down on the floor to sleep. “Why are you all sleeping?” Nathaniel yawns.
“That’s what you’re supposed to do after eating,” a boy says.
“That’s boring. I want to play,” Nathaniel says.
“No, it’s the rules,” the boy says.
“I haven’t even had dessert yet,” Nathaniel complains. He looks around. He sees almond patties, peach fritters, five types of cinnamon rolls, pecan pie, and apple pie with pumpkin spice ice cream. There are large, soft cookies packed with chocolate chips, peanuts, raisins, and dates. There are tiny molasses-cakes topped with chocolate drizzle and carrot cake with cream cheese frosting topped with peach slices. The carrot cake seems to be more frosting than cake. Nathaniel almost takes a slice, but he is so tired and so full that he loses his balance and collapses to the floor. “This food must be poisoned,” he slurs before falling into a deep sleep.
In my 2014 book, The Spider, The Witch, And The Spaceship, an incident from Nate’s strange childhood is mentioned in chapter 10, on page 157. I later turned it into a short story. Read it below:
After a while on planet Lectipas, The Mama-And-Daddy lands gently in the midst of the Great Crescent Swamp, the third largest swamp on the planet Hoosh. Nathaniel and Haticat ride the levitating couch-unit out of the ship and over the soft ground. The few trees are silhouetted against the night sky, bright from the reflected light of the swamps. Instead of water, every pool is filled with warm, glowing, blue-white slush. Solid slush piles up around the rim of each pool. The boys feel the warmth rising up from the swamp and the strong gravity (nearly twice that of Earth) pulling them down. Splash! Haticat catches a glimpse of a jumping fish out of the corner of his eye. Tiny moths fly around aimlessly.
“Nathaniel! Stay on the couch-unit!” Daddy’s couch-unit polyp-head bellows to the left.
“I was,” Nathaniel says.
“We’re just reminding you,” Mama’s couch-unit polyp-head says on the right.
Nathaniel and Haticat had not been getting along well with The Mama-And-Daddy lately. Now they were confined to remaining in sight of them at all times. Nathaniel grunts in displeasure. “What was that?” Daddy asks sternly.
“Nothing,” Nathaniel answers.
Up ahead, Haticat sees glittering. He cannot figure out what it is. Continuing closer, he sees many round buildings rising from a dry patch in the middle of the swamp. Several paved roads and countless raised pipelines lead outwards from it in multiple directions. The couch-unit levitates right up the smoothly sloping banks of the swamp and into the town.
The glittering is from shoes. The people here wear shoes that flash with every step. There are hundreds of them: boys, girls, and adults. The creatures have rigid, shiny, oval bodies and a long, thin, blunt, rigid tail. They each have one, large compound eye in front and one, long, thin compound eye running down the back. They have six jointed legs. Complex mouthparts hang from under the frontward eye.
“Wow! I want shoes like that!” Haticat exclaims.
“Me too!” Nathaniel says.
“You’re not getting any. I don’t want to hear it,” Mama says.
“Remember not to jump off the couch-unit, Nathaniel,” Daddy says.
“I remember,” Nathaniel says.
“We’re just reminding you,” Mama says.
The Mama-And-Daddy carefully maneuvers the couch-unit between the crowds of hexapods. “What kind of creatures are these?” Nathaniel asks.
“It’s not polite to talk about people,” Mama says.
“Why?” Nathaniel asks, but is ignored.
“That’s a cute dinosaur,” one of the nearby hexapods says. “What kind is it?”
“Thank you. We made it myself,” Mama says.
“It’s a dromaeosaur. His name is Nathaniel,” Daddy says.
Haticat leans close to Nathaniel’s ear hole and whispers, “Hypocrites! They’re talking about you now.”
“Hi, Nathaniel. Is this your first time on Hoosh?” the hexapod asks.
“Yes,” Nathaniel answers.
“Well, we’re Hooshbugs. We live here,” the hexapod says.
“Oh,” Nathaniel says. “I like your shoes.”
“Thank you,” the Hooshbug replies.
“What do you say, Nathaniel?” Mama asks quickly, without giving Nathaniel any chance to respond.
“You’re welcome,” Nathaniel says.
“Bye,” the Hooshbug says, turning and walking away, shoes flashing.
Soon the couch-unit floats into a post office. Hooshbugs drop packages into some pipes and pick up packages from other pipes. Smaller, transparent pipes run back and forth across the walls in simple designs and transport glowing slush material, keeping the interior as bright as outside. “Good night, I am Mama-And-Daddy and I am expecting a package,” Daddy says to a Hooshbug behind a desk.
“Oh, here is a package for Mama-And-Daddy,” the clerk says before grabbing a small package in his mouthparts and handing it off to Mama’s polyp-head, who grabs it in her tentacles.
“Thank you,” Mama says before leaving.
“Welcome,” the clerk calls after her.
“What is it?” Nathaniel asks Mama once outside.
“It’s life insurance papers. With insurance, if we fall into a black hole and disappear, the insurance company will pay to build a new Mama-And-Daddy,” Mama explains.
“What happens if the papers fall into the black hole, too?” Nathaniel asks, clearly not understanding.
“These are only proof that we have insurance so we can get a loan. We already have the insurance,” Mama says.
“Where is the insurance, then? What if the insurance falls into the black hole with you?” Nathaniel asks, still bewildered. Haticat is confused, too.
“You’re making us tired,” Mama and Daddy say together.
Nathaniel sighs and stops asking questions. The couch-unit continues to glide through the town. Soon, they pass a strange, metal object with a domed top and three short branches. It turns slightly. “Hey, that thing just moved. What is it?” Haticat asks Nathaniel.
“I don’t know,” Nathaniel answers. Turning to Daddy, he asks, “What is that metal thing over there?”
Mama answers instead, “That’s a fire hydrant. The Hooshbugs put it there in case one of their buildings catches on fire. They can attach a hose to one side to get water out to put the fire out with.”
“Why did it just move?” Nathaniel asks.
“Fire hydrants don’t move. They stay stuck to underground water pipes,” Mama says.
“Haticat said he saw it move,” Nathaniel says.
“Nathaniel, don’t play silly games right now,” Mama says.
“I’m not playing. Haticat really saw it move,” Nathaniel says.
“I did,” Haticat insists. Could The Mama-And-Daddy not recognize the difference between play and seriousness? Of course not; it’s an adult.
“Nathaniel! Not now!” Daddy scolds.
“You’re not going to jump off the couch-unit, are you?” Mama asks.
“No,” Nathaniel answers.
“You’d better not,” Mama says.
At that moment, they enter another building. The sign reads: First Last Middle Bank. Transparent pipes of glowing slush form simple designs on the walls, lighting the interior. The walls and floor are carpeted in grey plaid. Employees stand behind several short desks and counters, typing on keyboards with their mouthparts. The couch-unit glides in and parks in front of one of the desks. The clerk introduces himself. “Hello, my name is Xnk. How may I help you?”
“Hello, my name is Mama-And-Daddy,” Mama says.
“We would like a loan for five hundred money-dollars,” Daddy says.
While the adults drone on about things Nathaniel and Haticat know nothing about, the boys whisper among themselves. “Nathaniel, I can’t hear with you whispering. Why don’t you go play in the corner?” Mama says.
“Because you told me not to leave the couch-unit,” Nathaniel answers truthfully. He had wanted to go and play all along.
Mama glares at him. Daddy angrily says, “Go play in the corner now.”
“Okay,” Nathaniel answers gleefully. He walks off with Haticat in tow. The gravity on Hoosh is too strong for Haticat’s boneless legs to fully support him (even walking on all fours and using his tail for support), forcing him to drag himself across the floor. They decide to play by rolling. Haticat tucks himself into his shell so Nathaniel can roll him back and forth. After a while, Nathaniel starts to tire.
“Look, there’s another fire hydrant outside over there,” Haticat says, noticing it through the large window.
“Let’s go see if it’s the moving kind,” Nathaniel suggests.
Nathaniel throws Haticat over his shoulders, tying his arms into a knot to more easily carry him. He walks outside and stands next to the hydrant. Nothing happens. “It’s not moving right now,” Nathaniel says.
“Push it,” Haticat suggests.
Nathaniel pushes on it hard, but it does not budge.
“Try pulling it,” Haticat suggests.
Nathaniel grabs the side and pulls and pulls. Nothing happens. “This must not be the moving kind.”
“Come on, Nathaniel. We’re leaving,” Mama says, the couch-unit having pulled up behind him.
Nathaniel jumps onto the couch-unit, carrying Haticat. On the way back to the spaceship, they see many more hydrants – at least one to a building. Some buildings have two or three hydrants beside them. Haticat is certain there were not nearly that many before. A few of them sit at the end of what look like scratch marks or drag marks. The Hooshbugs simply walk around them without noticing. “I think those hydrants are moving only when we aren’t watching,” Haticat says.
“Yeah, they’re sneaky hydrants,” Nathaniel says.
Back in the ship, Daddy announces it is time for lunch. Nathaniel pours himself a bowl of protein jelly from the ceiling nozzle using the switch on the table. It tastes just as bland and boring as ever. Almost finished, he asks the Mama-And-Daddy, “Are Hooshbugs nocturnal?”
“Yes, that means they are awake at night and sleep during the day,” Daddy’s kitchen polyp-head answers.
“Why?” Nathaniel asks.
“That’s just the way it is,” Daddy answers.
“Eat your lunch, Nathaniel,” Mama’s kitchen polyp-head says.
Nathaniel finishes up his lunch while Haticat watches. Then he dumps his used bowl and spoon into the recycling chute. “Let’s explore the swamp now,” he says to Haticat.
“Don’t go outside!” Daddy booms.
“How can we explore the swamp if we don’t go outside?” Nathaniel asks.
“Go to your room and read instead. The swamps are dangerous,” Daddy says, not answering the question.
Dangerous? That sounds exciting. Haticat longs to know what makes them dangerous, but being slower to ask, Nathaniel beats him to it. “Why?”
“Don’t ask questions. It’s the rules,” Mama says.
Nathaniel grunts. Haticat sighs. They climb the ramps to their room and read their books. The longing to explore wears at them. Quickly losing interest in reading, they walk to the large observation window and look out across the vast swamp over the tops of the sparse trees. The glittering of thousands of shoes lights up the town and the pools of blue-white slush light the trees from below. The swamp is very still, but Haticat’s good eyes catch sight of some ripples in the pools below. “Let’s sneak out – only for a short time,” Haticat whispers.
“That’s a good idea,” Nathaniel whispers.
Making their way outside, they pass only inactive polyp-heads. Wherever the essences of Mama and Daddy are, they aren’t watching the door. Haticat rides on Nathaniel’s back as he trudges across the soft ground and through the dark-colored weeds. Coming to the raised slush rim of one of the pools, Nathaniel carefully sticks a claw into it. It is warm. Suddenly, a fish jumps right in front of them, falling back into the glowing slush and making large ripples. “Wow!” Haticat says. “Try to catch one so we can study it.”
Nathaniel steps tentatively into the pool. Haticat’s legs and tail dangle into the strange, warm slush. “This slush doesn’t soak into my fibers like water does. I like it better,” he says.
Nathaniel leans over and sweeps his clawed hands slowly through the pool, feeling for movement. Another fish (or the same one?) jumps between his arms and lands just out of reach. Something else brushes his legs. “I need special eyes so I can see through this stuff,” he complains. He continues to unsuccessfully hunt slushfish for the next few minutes until he sees something else interesting. A dark-colored snake slithers across the surface of a pool near him and into the weeds beyond. He promptly chases it, repeatedly losing it in the weeds only to see it crossing pool after pool. Nathaniel and Haticat follow it for quite a ways without being able to catch it. They get farther from The Mama-And-Daddy and closer to the town. Then they hear a noise.
They are near a dark part of the town relatively free of Hooshbugs. There are large, metal pipes here. Two fire hydrants fire lasers at one of the pipes, cutting loose a large section. “What are they doing?” Haticat whispers in Nathaniel’s ear.
“Maybe they’re stealing metal,” Nathaniel whispers.
Two other hydrants maneuver under the pipe, their side spouts telescoping out and bending to form arms. Finally, the pipe is loose. The first two hydrants stretch and change shape, growing arms and legs to help carry it. They are robots! “These are invading robots stealing metal from the Hooshbugs. They’re only disguised as fire hydrants,” Haticat says.
“How can we stop them?” Nathaniel asks.
“I don’t know. They have lasers; lasers hurt,” Haticat says.
“These hydrant bots are mean thieves. Let’s get out of here,” Nathaniel says.
“Agreed,” Haticat whispers. Nathaniel carries him right back to the ship. They shake the slush off and sneak back inside. They then return to reading. While the injustice of the situation bothers them, they are too frightened to get involved themselves and they are not sure who to tell. If The Mama-And-Daddy finds out that they were outside, they will be punished. The problem is soon forgotten as their lives are soon filled with more pressing matters.
In 2010, I started a blog called The Understanding Project. I tried to promote productive conversations between those of different political ideologies by educating my readers about what people actually want instead of what their opponents accuse them of wanting. After three years, I had never been so frustrated with anything in my life. I gave up on politics to focus on writing, art, and forest rambles.
Now I’m bringing the blog back, but there will be some changes. I used to ask questions and invite people to educate me. It didn’t work. I’m no longer going to waste my time in conversation. The blog is now nothing more than a resource on using critical thinking to cut through news media BS.
I have no reason to think that I will convince anybody of anything, but something desperately needs to be done and I have no reason to think that violent retaliation or sacrificial love or any other tactic will work either. All options are on the table.
I’m speaking out in faith. If I were to win by destroying my enemies, I would still have lost because that’s not the type of world I want to live in. Only by convincing others with force of logic do I truly win. I have to try.
Points to ponder:
“To argue with a man who has renounced the use and authority of reason, and whose philosophy consists in holding humanity in contempt, is like administering medicine to the dead, or endeavoring to convert an atheist by scripture.” – Thomas Paine
“Jesus told her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die like everyone else, will live again.’” – John 11:25
“Don’t be intimidated by your enemies. This will be a sign to them that they are going to be destroyed, but that you are going to be saved, even by God himself.” – Philippians 1:28
“The Lord replied, ‘If you return to me, I will restore you so you can continue to serve me. If you speak words that are worthy, you will be my spokesman. You are to influence them; do not let them influence you!’” – Jeremiah 15:19
I’ve been drawing a long time. This is a collection of drawings from my childhood:
One of the most common types of drawings I liked to make when I was young was of explosions – mostly exploding stars or planets. I used fluorescent crayons mostly, but my scanner does not pick up those colors well. Here are four drawings that I still have:
Another common type of drawing I used to make was of coral reefs or jungles. Many of the animals were creatures I thought up myself. I still do this.
I also drew alien landscapes:
One time I drew a picture of three friends that lived on an asteroid. One was a ghost that orbited the asteroid, one was a green insectoid that lived on the surface, and the third was a furry creature that lived inside.
Another time I drew a picture of a frozen planet with two mysterious spacecraft in orbit.
Another time I drew my sister as a sorceress.
Another time I drew my childhood conceptions of Hell and Heaven. I used to watch a lot of Star Trek. Looking closely, you can see the Enterprise-D (twice), a Federation shuttle, and Romulan, Ferengi, and Borg spacecraft.
Even though I live in a country where I have access to television, movies, theaters, and books that those elsewhere can only dream of, I still sometimes get the impression that I have lived a relatively boring and sheltered life. There are many activities I have never done that others I know have. This is my bucket list.
Watch a Meteor Shower: One day I’d like to curl up with someone special and watch a meteor shower. I’ve never had the chance. I used to work the night shift. Every time I heard that one was coming, I was dead tired and had no one willing to go with me. It was almost always cloudy and I would have had to drive far from home to get away from the light pollution of the city. I was also never sure where to park that trees would not obstruct my view and that the police or property owners would not harass me and ask why I was skulking around their fields at night.
Watch an Aurora: I’ve never had a chance to see an aurora either and for a lot of the same reasons. It would also be too long and too expensive a trip to make my way far enough north (or south) to see one. I’d like to maybe watch one during my Alaska trip.
Eat Crickets: Apparently crickets and moths are not only edible, but good for you. I have always wondered what they taste like. Since they are hard to catch and I don’t want to get the wrong kind if there is such a thing, I prefer them professionally prepared in a gourmet dish. I am also curious about the fried sea cucumbers (distant relatives of starfish) they eat in some Mediterranean towns.
Skydiving/Hang-Gliding: This is something I definitely want to do eventually, but I am in no rush. It is also expensive.
Skiing: I’ve never even been skiing. Nobody has ever invited me and I don’t know what to expect. Where do I go? Can I rent skis at the slope? How much will it cost just to practice so that I actually get in one good run that day? Some questions can be learned with Google, but without someone actually guiding me through it the first time, I will still feel kind of lost.
Canoeing: I actually did finally go canoeing once, but only for an hour and it was on a lake. I’d like very much to take someone exploring in a canoe down a long creek all afternoon. I’ve never had the chance.
Hunting: Why on Earth would I spend money and time on a hunting license, guns, and equipment when I don’t yet know what I want to hunt, where to do it, when to do it, how to do it successfully, and whether I will like it? Where do I even go to learn the applicable regulations? This is something virtually impossible to get into alone. I’ve never had anyone invite me.
Fishing: Fishing is much like hunting, only with less walking. I’m sure if I tried it on my own, I would be doing it wrong and never know otherwise.
Language: I have been so busy exploring nature, reading fiction and non-fiction, drawing pictures of aliens, and writing blogs and books that I have never had time to learn a second language. I expect that doing so will show me new ways of thinking, better help me understand others, and expand the pool of literature I could read. I want to learn but I don’t know when I’ll have the time. I still have a list of books I plan on buying when I have the money and several books I want to write. I also don’t know which language to learn first. Since I already know a little Spanish and a little German, it will probably be easiest to learn those. I’ve also thought of learning Braille and sign language. Any suggestions?
Things I've Done
At least I got a few things off my bucket list already.
Alcohol: I know the average person sneaks alcohol even before they turn twenty-one, and Catholics take real wine during Eucharist (I knew it as communion in Baptist churches), but I never had much interest. When I grew up I only encountered two types of people: those who either never drank or at least never talked with me about it, and those who drank very much for the purpose of becoming so drunk that they would throw up, pass out, and forget the good time they had. That never appealed to me. It was only when I turned twenty-five that I met responsible drinkers who actually invited me to bars or over to their houses. Beer and wine are disgusting, but I now like cider and mixed drinks. I like the taste of rum. I have never been drunk, but getting a little buzzed can be intriguing. The greatest benefit of drinking is that it gives other people an excuse to laugh at my jokes and treat me with respect rather than be the uptight characters with no tolerance for silliness that they are normally.
Shooting Range: I have always believed in the second amendment and spoken in favor of our rights, but it wasn’t until I was twenty-seven that I realized I was not doing my part. My family was never into guns and I grew up in a semi-urban area where they weren’t part of the culture. I wasn’t sure what type of gun to buy or where to buy it. Finally, I stopped in a gun shop by myself and bought a used revolver for three hundred dollars. It was very loud. Then I made a friend who liked to go out in the woods with his .22 rifle and do target practice with me. It can be a lot of fun.
Clothing-Optional Beach: Ever since I was a child and was scolded for playing indoors in my underwear, I have always had a fascination with nudity and the inexplicable psychology behind its censorship. That it is so infrequent only makes it more intriguing. Growing up, I never met anyone who expressed any interest in nudity except in the form of pornography, which I have always felt is a type of perversion that cheapens the sacred. Somehow I made it to age twenty-nine without ever seeing another adult naked in person, whether male or female. Finally, I made an internet search for something called nude beaches, which I had heard about on television. That was how I found a clothing-optional beach just two hours from my house. It was a poor excuse for a beach. It was too rocky, steep, overgrown, and crowded. Still, the opportunity to feel the air and wind on my skin without distracting breaks in continuity was almost worth it. I notice that the less I have on, the more that last little bit bothers me. Why aren’t there more of these places?
What is on your bucket list? What normal, common activity have you never tried? Go out and do them!
Right now I’m stuck in Florida with no money and no one who wants to go with me, but one day there are other places I would like to explore.
New England: Since 2007 (if not before) I have wanted to take a road trip across New England. I grew up in New Hampshire and have seen enough of it to know I want to go back and finish exploring. I have a dream to take a road trip across New England and camp in every state park, walk every trail, climb every mountain, and visit every beach in New Hampshire, Maine, Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island. I may even visit a museum or two. Since they have similar climates and terrain, I would also like to explore New York, Oregon, and Washington. Flatness bores me. I like to see mountains. I like to see waterfalls and rapids. I like to scramble over lichen-covered boulders. I like to turn over stones to look for salamanders. I love the smell of decaying autumn leaves. It smells like home. New England more than any other place is where I want to go.
California: I have also thought of stopping in California to see the redwoods in person. Those trees are just awesome. If I can find a safe and environmentally responsible way to do it, I would also be open to climbing up to the canopy and just immersing myself in the isolation and scale of the place. I’d like to see the rare epiphytes that live up there. While staying in California, I might also visit the kelp forests offshore. Those are cool too.
New Zealand: It is no secret that New Zealand has some great scenery. I’d also like to meet a kea, the only carnivorous, alpine parrot in the world. I’d also like to see a kiwi.
Ecuador: Cloud forests intrigue me. These are rainforests so high in elevation that they are enveloped by clouds. I have always loved the mist. It is simultaneously calming and mysterious. It was in the uninhabited cloud forest of Papua New Guinea that new species of marsupials and monotremes were discovered not too long ago. I probably won’t be allowed there, but my sister visited a cloud forest in Ecuador that sounded interesting.
Peru: Peru has more archaeological oddities than anyplace I know. There is a wall somewhere made of stones cut with as great precision as anything we can do today. There are gigantic figures across the fields visible only from the air. There is an amazingly beautiful mountain city. I have too many other interests to put in the time necessary for training in order to spot and identify items of archaeological significance, but it would be nice to perhaps assist the professionals for a while and be part of the next discovery. In any case, I’d still like to see those giants. Peru has geological oddities as well, such as the Rainbow Mountains.
Antarctica: Honestly, I mostly want to visit Antarctica so that I can tell people I’ve been there, but I also like icebergs and penguins.
Hawaii: I’ve only seen active volcanoes on television and I want to see one in person. Afterwards, I want to relax on someone’s porch to the sounds of birds.
Yellowstone: Everyone wants to see Yellowstone. I want to see the geysers and pretty salt-sulfur deposits.
Virgin Islands: I’ve never been snorkeling and I’ve never seen a coral reef. The Virgin Islands sound like the place to do both.
Underground: Caves are always interesting places, though they can be dangerous. Still, the more danger, the better the story to tell.
Appalachian Trail: Walking from Tennessee to New England through the mountains is a more ambitious and physically strenuous version of the big New England trip. I would probably do this in a later year after getting into shape running around Oregon.
Alaska: Snow on anything is beautiful. Only planetary nebulae come close to this beauty and only women surpass it. I’m not sure whether I would live there or not, but Alaska would be a great place to visit. Another idea is to visit the Kamchatka peninsula in Russia. In addition to bears even larger than the grizzlies of Alaska, they also have hot springs where monkeys bathe.
The British Isles: There is a lot to love about Scotland, Ireland, and England. I love the accents, the climate, and the scenery. I love the history and culture. Any society that can produce Rowan Atkinson, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, J. K. Rowling, C. S. Lewis, Isaac Newton, Adam Smith, John Locke, Eric Idle, John Cleese, Tom Baker, Peter Capaldi, Arthur Conan Doyle, Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, and so many other favorites must be doing something right. I’d probably visit the Sherlock Holmes/ Doctor Who theme park.
Other Places I Maybe Want To Visit
Some places I want to visit I know would be too dangerous, far too expensive, much of the time would actually be rather boring, and worst of all would take too long to get there and back to be worth it. They are fun to think about, though.
Mars: The red planet has enormous canyons and mountains, massive dust storms, and roughly half the surface gravity of Earth. It has the most Earth-like climate of any other world in our solar system, meaning it is possible that especially hardy strains of bacteria or lichen might survive. It is possible that liquid water exists deep underground. Someday I’d like to watch a sunset over the Martian desert.
Io: Where else can you watch great plumes of molten sulfur shoot out of the ground many miles into space and drift back to the surface as multi-colored snow except Jupiter’s moon Io? Where else can you watch volcanoes in low-gravity against the backdrop of the planet Jupiter?
The Rings of Saturn: Who wouldn’t want to explore this practically endless sea of ice boulders? Who wouldn’t want to hop from one boulder to another and look for signs of life? What might be hiding among the debris? Saturn’s rings are also the solar system’s largest piece of public art.
Nereid: Lava is supposed to be hot, but the volcanoes of Neptune’s moon Nereid ooze liquid nitrogen, rapidly freezing into ice on the surface. What sorts of shapes might form in the low gravity? At this distance from the sun, it is perpetually night. The sun is merely the brightest star in the sky.
Sedna: If you thought Nereid was cooler than being cool, Sedna is ice cold. More than twice as far away as Neptune at its closest, Sedna traces an elliptical orbit taking twelve thousand years to complete one revolution. Sunlight is so weak there that not even methane will sublimate. Radio messages from Earth that take fifteen minutes to reach Mars and eight hours to reach Nereid can take more than five days to reach Sedna. It is the novelty of the place that draws me. It is our sun’s loneliest outpost (so far discovered).
Where are some places you want to go?
I have always loved walking in the woods and I have never seen a trail that I didn’t have to know where it went. I have never seen an animal I didn’t want to see closer. I have always loved tales of exploring the unknown and finding out what is out there (mostly tales from Doctor Who and Star Trek).
When I got older, I had to support myself working full time and I had no time or energy to spare. I then went through a period of depression where I lost interest in things that used to bring me joy. I was tired all the time and I no longer was sure I knew what I wanted out of life. I was without direction. I finally started to come out of it only to find that I hated my job and most of the people I worked with. Returning to my childhood memories, I started to miss my adventures among the trees. More and more I began to dream of simply walking out and escaping society. I was rapidly getting to the point that I was so dissatisfied with my life that living on the streets was preferable – even if just for a change of scenery.
There is something exciting about spontaneity when you have no plan and are not one hundred percent sure you will be able to adapt in time. Planning too far ahead sucks the fun out of everything and as often as not the plans I make don’t work out anyways. Sometimes I just want to do something I have never done before. Sometimes these things carry risk.
It has been said by some that travel is the cure for worry. I don’t take it quite that far; I still find plenty to worry about on the road. Still, I have noticed that while on my trips I am usually so busy that I have little time for worry. Travelling also requires a certain degree of minimalism, and the less I have the less I have to worry about keeping track of. I also don’t have to worry as much about offending someone. If I can escape them, I can simply move on to the next town and they will never see me again. Detachment brings freedom. A restaurant owner has no choice but to deal with the health department, but someone on the move can always skip out on paying a parking ticket.
I wasn’t quite ready to just leave everything, but in 2009 I took several days off driving around Vermont. It was the first time I had driven so far alone, which was a huge step in itself. I visited Molly Stark State Park, the ECHO Aquarium, and Groton State Forest, among other places. I also visited “America’s Stonehenge” in New Hampshire.
In 2010, my only vacation days were spent up moving out and fixing up my new house. I didn’t go anywhere. In 2011 I took another drive around Vermont, climbing mount Hor and Mount Psigah in the same day. I also visited the Fairbanks Museum. In 2012, I was cheated out of my vacation when my seasonal job unexpectedly moved their schedule up, forcing me to leave my part-time job early. I still managed to visit the Mount Kearsarge Indian Museum in New Hampshire, but I was frustrated.
Then in early 2013, I was fired for no good reason, cheated out of my house in an incomprehensible legal dispute the same month, and had to move back in with my parents who had since moved to Florida. I finally had the time to explore, but no money, and I missed the look and feel of the northern forests. This is when the dream really began.
I still don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I am going to one day sleep overnight in every State Park in New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island. After that, who knows? I might explore the whole planet.
What are your dreams?
I published my first science fiction book! I’m still excited!
This is the story of a man named Nate who finds himself living in a psychiatric health care facility. He does not remember how he got there, but as he starts to remember things from his past life, he realizes that the universe has changed dramatically since he was young. A story of childhood nostalgia, sometimes comically illuminating the differing perceptions adults and children have of the world, The Spider, The Witch, And The Spaceship is also a journey through the memories of a man for clues as to the real reason he is where he is. Filled with tension between opposing claims of the ultimate reality, this is a novel that will keep the reader guessing until the end.
In response to the increase in political strife leaking over into our personal social lives here in the United States, I wrote a book in order to promote unity, civility, and tolerance. Others have written extensively on the machinations in Washington, but few seem to notice what the politicians’ rhetoric does to the rest of us. I feel like I have to watch my back around people who constantly repeat hateful generalizations and who make up their minds quickly with little or no evidence. These people are nutcases and they feel the same about me. This is why I wrote The Nutcase Across The Street.
My name is Dan. I am an author, artist, explorer, and contemplator of subjects large and small.