October 20-22: Georgia State of Mind

Having been home for several weeks now, more or less strapped to this machine on the hunt for graduate schools, I've been having erratic fits of futility and plummeting self-confidence. I find it odd that I'm more comfortable surrounded by strangers in strange lands than crowds of my own kin. It might have to do with the fact that I have no excuse for not being able to communicate clearly, and of course, I'm no longer different by default. Instead I have to prove why I'm so cool (kidding).

In the midst of my disorganized march back onto campus, I'm slowly reintegrating myself with the me from 2004, before Asia. One leg of this process was the college break pasttime of choice - the road trip. Photographer and artist Adam Harvey and I drove roughly 800 miles from Trenton, NJ to Athens, Georgia to visit my old housemates-turned-UGA professors Roger Stahl and Kate Morrissey. We split the drive over two days, stopping somewhere outside of Charlotte, NC for the night at an overpriced Super 8 motel.

I'll spare the trivialities of our weekend in Winterville and get right to the top three spectacles worthy of mention here (excluding the cats Carlos and Sweetface, who get an honorary mention).

First up, there's Kate Morrissey, an emerging artist worthy of words I can't quite find in the dictionary. Positive words, naturally. Her songs are all solo keyboard and vocal pieces rife with playful, witty lyrics and upbeat, inspiring melodies. Among her latest, "Swim" is a personal favorite, probably because it's one of the darker tunes on her setlist. We had the pleasure of seeing her perform twice on our trip, once at the downtown listening room Flicker, and again at the opening event of the Georgia Nature Center. Kate's live performances outdo any recording tenfold because of her engaging interaction with the audience. I've never seen a performer appear to have more fun with her own show than Kate, whether it be by dedicating her song "Emily" to whoever carries that name on that night, or flexing her playfully nonsensical wit between songs. Notably, she asked the Flicker crowd to welcome her two friends from out of town (Adam and I) in warm Southern fashion - whether it be welcoming us into their homes, or accusing us of being gay. Check out her music and bio and pray she comes to your town (or country) soon.

Second, the sensory deprivation tank. Yes, I just segued from a lovely folk singer to a maniacal mechanism that robs the body of all five means of interpreting the outside world. Gently, of course. Here's a more polite description borrowed from a more knowledgeable source:

This tool is the floatation tank, an enclosed chamber filled with approximately ten inches of warm saturated solution of Epsom salts. A solution so dense that even the thinnest person floats supine with the entire body at or near the surface of the water. The buoyancy counteracts the effects of gravity, giving the floater a sensation of weightlessness. The chamber is pitch-black, silent. In the absence of sensory input, the floater feels detached, free, at peace, Most floaters report enhanced mental powers. Virtually everyone finds the experience immensely pleasant. And, as one prominent scientist says, the tank provides a method of attaining the deepest rest that we have ever experienced."

Unsurprisingly, I didn't experience any enhanced mental powers, but I did lose feeling in all my motionless limbs, which is a new experience, and became so relaxed at one point that I definitely blacked out, having experienced some sort of disconnect between thoughts and consciousness before and after. I estimated I was floating around naked for 45 minutes, but found out after emerging that it was at least an hour and twenty! It's quite an adventure that I'll gladly try again, this time being more mindful of keeping the salt-saturated water out of my eyes and throat.

On a final note, I was exposed to the budding world of electric vehicles: bikes in particular. Roger had tracked down the plans and parts to modify an ordinary ten speed all-purpose bike into a 1 horsepower car-battery run scooter of sorts that takes its fuel from the wall socket. As silly as it sounds and ridiculous as it looks whizzing down the street without peddling, it silently reaches speeds of 28-30 mph with a range of around 10 miles before needing a 20 minute recharge. When the weather is right, Rog uses it as an alternative way of getting to campus, a 7 mile distance, then charges it up in his office. Compared with taking even a compact car, which might have a fuel economy of 24-27 miles per gallon, this lil' roadster gets the electricity-fuel equivalent of an unbelievable 1,000 miles per gallon. It took Rog several months of tweaking and tinkering, as well as a hefty $1200 in parts, but he's working on a second, faster one that runs off typical 12-volt car batteries, which ought to cut the cost in half, if not more. I'd like to give this a try after I settle into my student-on-a-budget lifestyle starting next fall. I'm not mechanically inclined like Rog, but I think I'll be among many who are. It's worth a shot - I mean, I mastered the art of composting in 2003, right? How much harder could this be?

Here's are the stats for Rog's "Mr. Zip"