In the late summer of 1989, I had an idea to approach the University of Central Florida’s student newspaper, “The Future,” about writing a weekly column. I wrote the first one and very humbly submitted it in person to the editor, Scott Altman. Without much fanfare, it was accepted, and so it went for the next fifteen months. Ultimately, many positive experiences grew from these efforts. One esteemed instructor made much of my work and was instrumental in me winning a Scripps-Howard Foundation Fellowship for the column. Thank you, Keith Fowles.
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In my earliest visions for “Rare Air,” I had a general sense of wanting to share nature with others in the loving spirit of some sage advice my late father-in-law Bill Kiefert gave me often, reminding me to stop and smell the flowers. This simple and essential idea goes a long way in defining what I am aspiring to do here… and yet, today I’m aware of a deeper lesson.
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In this minute of Rare Air, you can join me at the Tongue Point Marine Life Sanctuary in Crescent Bay… part of the Salt Creek Recreation Area where I camped for a few nights with my family back in 2014, while touring Olympic National Park. The spot appears on the map below, snared from the awesome website for The Strait of Juan de Fuca Scenic Byway: http://highway112.org. Throughout time, the areas all along the Highway 112 corridor have been home to people of the Klallam and Makah tribes: Exploring their cultures and histories are wonderful aspects of visiting.
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"Rare Air" is my original series of short travelogues intended to immerse us all in nature, if only for a minute.
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Basically, people think there's a giant patch of trash out in the Pacific Ocean that's all glued together, like nylon, that you can step on and walk all over. It's actually scarier...
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Kalaloch Beach, captured June 16, 2014.
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Time in nature = sacred saturation.
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In November of 1998, Beth and I were living in our Barrington Way townhome in Glendale, California, which hosted us and our cats nicely enough through a very exciting and challenging time. Going back to Arc of the Poet, that was our critical California move in the so-called “Fame and Fortune” era. While I was extremely thankful at that time to have landed on the staff of Crest National in Hollywood, my film industry dreams were still very personal, and I pressed on to the best of my abilities on every front. Externally, I continued to “swing for the fence”…
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By the time I’d reached age 28, when I wrote this poem, I had come quite a distance in my sense of how I valued other people’s ideas. I had many individuals I respected deeply, but at the same time, an ever-expanding list of those who had given me counsel that I did not trust, believe nor identify with. And based on my growing list of personal achievements, I was coming to a place where I felt I could sort out these differences pretty effectively for myself, and maybe also provide some signposts for others. This is something I’m proud…
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I wrote this poem exactly 17 years ago today. It was several months after the excitement of working on NBC’s seaQuest had given way to some different kinds of fun for Beth and me, but about 18 months before we surprised ourselves and everyone we knew by moving to California. This was written in May (always a favorite time of year), and much to my delight, those days were mostly spent handling very fun freelance production assignments (for example, shooting with Randy Baker for NASCAR), rewriting a screenplay for a futuristic thriller, and writing, editing and submitting poetry to top…