Saturday, September 19, 2009
Dreaming of a World Where this Doesn't Happen
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mike-alvear/stonewall-2009-police-rai_b_286649.html
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Aversion to Urban Sprawl...
... I've got it, in spades. We are resting now in a small arts district in Buffalo, NY. Chris is reading to me from Ishamael by Daniel Quinn while I try to find us places to sleep online. We've been making friends with people via their pets, cuddling with park-happy puppies and watching the sun slip through the trees. We are both looking forward to moving towards smaller cities, although this one does have it's charms.
Riding is easy and smooth... the air is cooler. I layer up instead of layering down. I listen to music and enjoy the views of Lake Erie as they come and go. I steal concord grapes from the vine, and spit out the sours... savor the sweets. I think my front tire is low, but I don't stop... I wait. It's not slowing me down. Here, people own all of the lake-side property. Everywhere I ride, properties are for sale. It is quiet, but there is a hidden stress in the air. The lake, however, is calm and reflective; unconcerned with human affairs. I am grateful wherever the world is green.
Sending Love,
x Mk
Friday, September 4, 2009
Slow Road, Michigan Wandering.... Passing and Laughing
We drove out of the park in Holland with little event. The trail was tight, watching the bikes out the window, to safely return to the road. The day was slipping past us, and we realized quickly that this wasn't the day to ride. There were personal matters to attend to in Holland, a burgeoning storm and all of it's fallout. We took the day to attend an AA meeting, collect ourselves, and get some internet work done.
Chris works in drug and alcohol recovery in Utah. He has been coming to Al-anon for about a year now... a group for people affected by addiction in the lives of people close to them. He has known all along that he might need some support for his own addictions, however invisible they are to the naked eye... but until now he hasn't been willing. Despite the hundreds of AA meetings he has attended in the past, he raised his hand and said it was his first meeting. Brave. It was an intense experience I think, for both of us. Our journey for a few days has been speckled with meetings and heavy conversations.
Days before I had been contacted by an old friend, an ex-lover. We hadn't spoken in years. Our inability to mend the fence finally wore out, in due course. It feels like a lost member of my family has returned to me. On another line a friend is recovering from sexual assault, and seeking support, leaving me with tides of anger and words I wish were easier to say. So much is happening some days that I can't catch up with myself. On a long ride, I fall into the music and dream... I don't have it in me to process right now.
I ride past a house proudly bearing a confederate flag and I cringe, check my speed. I ride past signs pointing to Hell... and notice the street headed that way is called "Darwin". I wonder, stop to take a photograph even.... but keep moving. Chris stays behind in Lansing to get stoned one last time, and to get to a meeting.
We walk around these conservative Michigan towns, and people smile at us. We look like any other young couple. No one would guess looking at us that Chris was born in a female body. He has never taken hormones to look male, and has not had any surgery. He is the way he is, concealing soft curves beneath a male exterior. People stare at us, like I am used to being stared at... but they only stare because they find us strangely beautiful, or strangely dressed. We laugh a lot, take life lightly. Chris outs himself as trans when it feels safe or necessary, or appropriate. I tease him, calling him Boyfriend... calling him Boy.
In Kalamazoo, everyone we spent time with knew that we were queer... but out here on the road, no one knows if we don't tell them. In Toledo, Ohio, they put us up in a gorgeous Victorian mansion in the Old West End, and the couple there never raised an eyebrow to question Chris' gender, or the nature of our relationship. Chris finds himself invited into the back porch "boys club". Tony tells him that he is glad Chris is travelling with me, that he cant imagine a woman biking alone. Still working on being an outwardly feminist male... he merely states that I *was* alone up until recently, and leaves it at that. We laugh later, knowing that for the depth of his queerness.... I am more likely protecting Chris.
Amazing, these open windows into the gendered worlds I have been separate from for so long. Kris, the lady of the house moons over Chris and I reading the paper together... saying how amazing it is that we share interests.... She says "Well, you know how most men are...:" I freeze a little, unsure what to say. I feel so much compassion, but her world is foreign to me. Conventional gender has vanished for us, mostly. We are lovers. In each others space and tangled around each others words. Maybe this is queer priveledge. We love so freely and fluidly.
I rode a seventy mile day without flinching, or tiring really at all. Now that my gear is in the car, I fly easily across the Michigan flatlands. My bike is in great shape and my body feels amazing.
I am jumping around, because there has been so much to say.... I don't want to write you all a novel right now. Eventually... but not right now :)
More soon... We are off-route for a few days, back in Michigan. We are up in Metro-Detroit visiting Chris' family, and getting the car looked at. Clutch trouble. My next show is in Erie, NY. We will drive back down to the West Coast of the lake before I start riding again. We have this ability now to take little detours in the car, and we are taking full advantage. I'm still covering my miles, and I get to cram in a little extra adventuring... All good.
Sending so much love and strength,
Malcolm xoxo
Friday, August 28, 2009
city camping, fruit, etc...
hey loves,
chris and i are sitting in holland, michigan this morning... eating free strawberries and drinking coffee. spent the night in a city park, back behind the parking railings.... we drove chris' car into the woods and dropped a tent where no one could see us. no cops, no trouble. its nice having a car to jump into and find camping off of my bike route... hopefully it will keep me from singlehandedly supporting the rest stop motel industry.
happy and resting today... just wanted to send a little update. hope yer all well. im playing in lansing tommorow night (August 29th)... maybe ill see a few of you there.
xoxo Mk
chris and i are sitting in holland, michigan this morning... eating free strawberries and drinking coffee. spent the night in a city park, back behind the parking railings.... we drove chris' car into the woods and dropped a tent where no one could see us. no cops, no trouble. its nice having a car to jump into and find camping off of my bike route... hopefully it will keep me from singlehandedly supporting the rest stop motel industry.
happy and resting today... just wanted to send a little update. hope yer all well. im playing in lansing tommorow night (August 29th)... maybe ill see a few of you there.
xoxo Mk
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Tour Update...
Hey Family....
So I'm hitting the road again after a short break in Michigan. I have collected a follow car to carry some of my gear, as I kick into tour mode. I'll be on my bicycle, while he cruises ahead each day to find campgrounds and rally show-goers. Lucky enough, my tour boy / driver is also a horn player, backup vocalist, penny-whistler and generally just great.... so there are good times ahead, some new sounds and new adventures. Here are the dates so far.... more to come, so keep an eye out.
--
"even after all of this time, the sun never says to the earth 'you owe me'. look what happens with a love like that.... it lights the whole sky" Hafiz
Not a lot of time to write out my adventures these days... but I will start to shoot out little stories when I can. I have more computer access now.
xoxo Love from the road, Malcolm
http://www.malcolmrollick.com
The Grand Grand Haven, MI |
Lemonjello's Holland, MI |
Metrospace Lansing, MI |
Perrysburg, OH |
Presque Gallery Erie, PA |
Boulder Coffee Rochester, NY |
The Shop 312 E Seneca St Ithaca, NY |
Caffe Lena Open Mic Saratoga Springs, NY |
One Longfellow Square Portland, ME |
Toad Boston, MA |
Private House Concert at The Barn get in touch for details |
Living Room NY, NY http://www.livingroomny.com |
--
"even after all of this time, the sun never says to the earth 'you owe me'. look what happens with a love like that.... it lights the whole sky" Hafiz
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Outsider
I'm getting ready for a little break, and then I'm on to the final stretch of this big adventure. I put the prairie behind me, and then the endless rolling hills of Wisconsin. I've had my fair share of flat tires, mishaps and calm days... mostly feeling blessed and moving swiftly under blue skies.
It was easy, crossing the flatlands. Besides the obvious lack of hills... the people are generally kind and open, and for awhile camping became really accessible again. I slept in plenty of city parks, behind one local high school, and in a few relatively cheap motels.
What I have encountered out here however, is the subtle and pervasive racism that undercurrents daily life. People here will tell you... "Oh you dont have to worry... This is the Midwest. No locals will bother you." Eventually you begin to understand the implied translation...Most people out here are white. Except those Mexicans who come through to work. Keep an eye out.
This became more evident to me when shopping for the cheapest motel in a given town. The white owner of a local motel will often tell me.... " Well, if you don't care about cleanliness, there's an Indian owned place down the street. That's cheaper. But I'm the cheapest English motel." I have heard this argument in various tones and with varying degrees of overt discrimination. The theory is clear, however... Those Indian owned places are dirty.
For the record.... Indian run motels are the only way to go out here. They are always cheaper, most likely because they have to lower prices to combat racism. They are always clean, have everything you need, and the owners are invariably interesting people.
The other morning I left a motel somewhere in Wisconsin, stopping to chat with the owner and his wife. They are surprised that I know anything about the geography of India. We talk about art, and about the Hindu temple that was built in Chicago. I promise to visit it next time I'm in town. They once lived in the Himalayas for a month of retreat.
That evening, I roll into another small town... Chilton, Wisconsin. The owner of the only motel in town is so overtly racist that I call him on it. When I tell him that I am offended (at the usual argument... Indian places are dirty), he tells me that he knows his business and that I'm a fool. He remains defensive when I check my phone for anyplace cheaper and practically throws me out.
I left nearly in tears... tired, and not sure where I'll be able to sleep. I talk to a few locals and they all raise their eyebrows at me when I talk about local camping. The town is affluent, and I know the cops will kick me out if they find me.
That night I rode another 26 miles to get out of Wisconsin. It got dark and I cranked up Adam Green in my headphones, needing the insanity and chaos to keep me going. I thought about race, and American history. I got tired and bleary eyed, but I made a decision. I needed to get out. I rode until 11 at night, and jumped on the midnight ferry to Michigan. I fell asleep on the open air deck, in the damp air, under the stars...
At five-thirty am, in Ludington, Michigan, I stopped at a local bakery for coffee and a donut. The place has been there since the early 1900's. I chatted with the old man, and the bakers, wondering how I would stay awake. I swung by a local motel, and by chance, the owners were awake, and willing to let me check in at 6:30 am, despite their 2pm check in time... another rad Indian couple. I passed out happy and exhausted...I had ridden over 80 miles, the longest day I've ever ridden.
I'm still in Ludington now, and I will be here for a few more days. I found a great local campground, and I'm getting a few chores done before I head into the woods for a the next couple weeks. I will be off the map... no phone, no internet... until the 14th of August. More adventures when I return. Until then, much love.
xo Malcolm
It was easy, crossing the flatlands. Besides the obvious lack of hills... the people are generally kind and open, and for awhile camping became really accessible again. I slept in plenty of city parks, behind one local high school, and in a few relatively cheap motels.
What I have encountered out here however, is the subtle and pervasive racism that undercurrents daily life. People here will tell you... "Oh you dont have to worry... This is the Midwest. No locals will bother you." Eventually you begin to understand the implied translation...Most people out here are white. Except those Mexicans who come through to work. Keep an eye out.
This became more evident to me when shopping for the cheapest motel in a given town. The white owner of a local motel will often tell me.... " Well, if you don't care about cleanliness, there's an Indian owned place down the street. That's cheaper. But I'm the cheapest English motel." I have heard this argument in various tones and with varying degrees of overt discrimination. The theory is clear, however... Those Indian owned places are dirty.
For the record.... Indian run motels are the only way to go out here. They are always cheaper, most likely because they have to lower prices to combat racism. They are always clean, have everything you need, and the owners are invariably interesting people.
The other morning I left a motel somewhere in Wisconsin, stopping to chat with the owner and his wife. They are surprised that I know anything about the geography of India. We talk about art, and about the Hindu temple that was built in Chicago. I promise to visit it next time I'm in town. They once lived in the Himalayas for a month of retreat.
That evening, I roll into another small town... Chilton, Wisconsin. The owner of the only motel in town is so overtly racist that I call him on it. When I tell him that I am offended (at the usual argument... Indian places are dirty), he tells me that he knows his business and that I'm a fool. He remains defensive when I check my phone for anyplace cheaper and practically throws me out.
I left nearly in tears... tired, and not sure where I'll be able to sleep. I talk to a few locals and they all raise their eyebrows at me when I talk about local camping. The town is affluent, and I know the cops will kick me out if they find me.
That night I rode another 26 miles to get out of Wisconsin. It got dark and I cranked up Adam Green in my headphones, needing the insanity and chaos to keep me going. I thought about race, and American history. I got tired and bleary eyed, but I made a decision. I needed to get out. I rode until 11 at night, and jumped on the midnight ferry to Michigan. I fell asleep on the open air deck, in the damp air, under the stars...
At five-thirty am, in Ludington, Michigan, I stopped at a local bakery for coffee and a donut. The place has been there since the early 1900's. I chatted with the old man, and the bakers, wondering how I would stay awake. I swung by a local motel, and by chance, the owners were awake, and willing to let me check in at 6:30 am, despite their 2pm check in time... another rad Indian couple. I passed out happy and exhausted...I had ridden over 80 miles, the longest day I've ever ridden.
I'm still in Ludington now, and I will be here for a few more days. I found a great local campground, and I'm getting a few chores done before I head into the woods for a the next couple weeks. I will be off the map... no phone, no internet... until the 14th of August. More adventures when I return. Until then, much love.
xo Malcolm
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Taco, Taco, Taco
I'm writing now from Columbus, Nebraska... the day after the 4th of July. There's been so little time to write, and the writing I have been doing is all a little heavy for this blog, more personal... as I move along this journey.
Travelling alone has its ups and downs. I enjoy being able to choose my own direction, not having to negotiate with anyone else, and being able to move at my own pace. There is however, the ever-so-human lonliness to wrestle with, and I have been moving through that, ever since I left Portland.
Going home for a bit was great, but the lonliness kicked into high gear when I found myself back out on the prairie. No more Rainier Cherry trees, no more gardens full of strawberries, and no more endless sea of sweet connections and loved ones. Its just me and the birds out here.... mostly these little black ones with fire-red under their wings... anyone know what these are called? They fly over me, casting little shadows.... and I try to make friends.
I did however, get to connect with Mona and Bill once more before I left Pueblo. They were so kind and nice to be around. I got to meet their youngest son, Bear, and enjoy a family dinner, and dessert out on the patio. They even drove me out of the city a little ways to say goodbye, freeing me from the mess of highways and narrow shoulders in downtown Pueblo.
I am trying not to get into too much detail right now... because I'm hungry, and it is late in the evening.... I'll have to get food soon before everything closes. This isn't the best time to write, to be honest.... but when is, these days?
I like the prairie. The endless flats and rolling hills allow me to disappear into my head for hours at a time, surfacing with all sorts of ideas for new creative projects, and angles for the ones I am already working on. I move through all kinds of places inside.... and outside the scenery is flat and open. The wheatfields of Kansas.... and now the cornfields of Nebraska.
On highway 30, there is a town every ten miles. They were built as whistle stops... where they would add water to the old steam engines. I've taken to stopping rather frequently, but I don't stay still long, and I don't socialize much. I am following the freight track everywhere I go, and my favorite conversations every day are the waves and honks from the engineers. I cant help but wonder what sorts of people they are. A lot of my friends have traveled by freight, and I have heard a lot of upsetting stories. When they get caught on the rails, the engineers don't turn them into the cops.... they beat them up. I wave and I smile... but I wonder.
I took the day off yesterday, with new friends in Grand Island, Nebraska. I managed to find a family that included a queer couple, a straight couple, three kids (one out of town) and a 6 month old baby. I got to cuddle the baby, sleep in a spider-man bed with a slide attached, play with the dog, and write music with the 4 year old. Gavin held my guitar and hit the strings while telling me the lyrics so I could write them down. My favorite went like this:
Taco Taco Taco
Everybody get down on the grass and eat
Taco Taco Taco
When you dont have any water
There were others, which collectively included the lines, "Let's get this party started", and "When the horses neigh at the night". Gavin is cool.
I got to have breakfast with the crew this morning, and then I hit the road again, pulling about 65 miles today, slow and steady. I'm doing all right, moving along and usually happy. I can't believe I will be at festival (Michigan Womyn's Music Festival) is 20 days... on my 30th birthday. I am so excited.
For now I am collecting feathers, sending snail mail to my friends, and listening to albums I haven't spent time with in years. It's a reflective time for me, and music really helps. Thirty years might not seem like much, but I've lived a bit.... there's so much to wrestle with, and to be thankful for. I have started getting involved with AA a little again, taking calls from people new to recovery, and keeping an eye on those I've known for a long time. It's good for me... keeps my head level. I've been blessed with this little tether... humbling and so completely human.
I guess this is all I have to say for now. I have to amp things up... I am almost out of Nebraska, but Iowa looms ahead of me. It's a long haul, and I have to make it to festival by my birthday. I keep telling people that I am ridintg to get to my birthday party. I get tired of saying the same old things. I've been a little ornery lately... trying to keep that in check.
Hoping to get out 70 miles today.... maybe. Wish me luck. Funny thing is, it's not my legs that give out on me.... it's my ass. Saddlesores are no joke.
:)
xoxo
Travelling alone has its ups and downs. I enjoy being able to choose my own direction, not having to negotiate with anyone else, and being able to move at my own pace. There is however, the ever-so-human lonliness to wrestle with, and I have been moving through that, ever since I left Portland.
Going home for a bit was great, but the lonliness kicked into high gear when I found myself back out on the prairie. No more Rainier Cherry trees, no more gardens full of strawberries, and no more endless sea of sweet connections and loved ones. Its just me and the birds out here.... mostly these little black ones with fire-red under their wings... anyone know what these are called? They fly over me, casting little shadows.... and I try to make friends.
I did however, get to connect with Mona and Bill once more before I left Pueblo. They were so kind and nice to be around. I got to meet their youngest son, Bear, and enjoy a family dinner, and dessert out on the patio. They even drove me out of the city a little ways to say goodbye, freeing me from the mess of highways and narrow shoulders in downtown Pueblo.
I am trying not to get into too much detail right now... because I'm hungry, and it is late in the evening.... I'll have to get food soon before everything closes. This isn't the best time to write, to be honest.... but when is, these days?
I like the prairie. The endless flats and rolling hills allow me to disappear into my head for hours at a time, surfacing with all sorts of ideas for new creative projects, and angles for the ones I am already working on. I move through all kinds of places inside.... and outside the scenery is flat and open. The wheatfields of Kansas.... and now the cornfields of Nebraska.
On highway 30, there is a town every ten miles. They were built as whistle stops... where they would add water to the old steam engines. I've taken to stopping rather frequently, but I don't stay still long, and I don't socialize much. I am following the freight track everywhere I go, and my favorite conversations every day are the waves and honks from the engineers. I cant help but wonder what sorts of people they are. A lot of my friends have traveled by freight, and I have heard a lot of upsetting stories. When they get caught on the rails, the engineers don't turn them into the cops.... they beat them up. I wave and I smile... but I wonder.
I took the day off yesterday, with new friends in Grand Island, Nebraska. I managed to find a family that included a queer couple, a straight couple, three kids (one out of town) and a 6 month old baby. I got to cuddle the baby, sleep in a spider-man bed with a slide attached, play with the dog, and write music with the 4 year old. Gavin held my guitar and hit the strings while telling me the lyrics so I could write them down. My favorite went like this:
Taco Taco Taco
Everybody get down on the grass and eat
Taco Taco Taco
When you dont have any water
There were others, which collectively included the lines, "Let's get this party started", and "When the horses neigh at the night". Gavin is cool.
I got to have breakfast with the crew this morning, and then I hit the road again, pulling about 65 miles today, slow and steady. I'm doing all right, moving along and usually happy. I can't believe I will be at festival (Michigan Womyn's Music Festival) is 20 days... on my 30th birthday. I am so excited.
For now I am collecting feathers, sending snail mail to my friends, and listening to albums I haven't spent time with in years. It's a reflective time for me, and music really helps. Thirty years might not seem like much, but I've lived a bit.... there's so much to wrestle with, and to be thankful for. I have started getting involved with AA a little again, taking calls from people new to recovery, and keeping an eye on those I've known for a long time. It's good for me... keeps my head level. I've been blessed with this little tether... humbling and so completely human.
I guess this is all I have to say for now. I have to amp things up... I am almost out of Nebraska, but Iowa looms ahead of me. It's a long haul, and I have to make it to festival by my birthday. I keep telling people that I am ridintg to get to my birthday party. I get tired of saying the same old things. I've been a little ornery lately... trying to keep that in check.
Hoping to get out 70 miles today.... maybe. Wish me luck. Funny thing is, it's not my legs that give out on me.... it's my ass. Saddlesores are no joke.
:)
xoxo
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