Well, it’s been one year to the day since I first started this blog and I gotta say what a strange and beautiful trip it’s been. When I began this endeavor last October, my intentions were simple: use it as a tool to promote and facilitate my dream of making an open ocean sailing voyage somewhere around Australia, New Zealand and the South Pacific. My hope at the time was that if people found what I had to say and what I wanted to do interesting, they would forward the site onward to their friends and family, who would in turn forward it on to their friends and family, and so on and so on until it eventually reached somebody who was in a position to make the journey possible (i.e. a boat, the time, the wherewithal). And while this may seem like a crazy long shot of an idea, it was a jumping off point that served to make things real.

So where is fasterbarnacle now, and even more importantly, how is my journey progressing? Well, before I answer those questions I want to first acknowledge that neither would be anywhere without you; my readers, my friends, my family. Your support over the past year — in all manners — has been overwhelming and humbling to say the least. Your e-mails, comments and suggestions have been valuable and every one has been taken to heart. Thank you a thousand times over for being part of my world and taking the time to participate.

Now, to the above question. As I said, fasterbarnacle was originally envisioned as a jumping off point, but looking at it now it’s so much more than that, it’s a spark that not only ignited and fuels a dream, but change in my life as well. Perhaps above all else, it got me writing again — something I’d put aside for years in order to pursue other interests (though I’m not opposed to calling it procrastination or outright avoidance) — and this has been an unexpected pleasure. I’ve found writing in this format (a blog) — sharing whatever I like from the sentimental to the ridiculous — to be both challenging and rewarding, and something I can see myself doing well into the unforeseeable future.

Also, as some of you may already know, exercise has been another byproduct of this endeavor. And while on the surface it might seem as though it has little to do with the construction of this site, it actually has everything to do with it. For me, fasterbarnacle represents consistency and action, and physical fitness isn’t possible without either of these. The great thing about consistency is that it’s habit-forming and these days if I go any extended period of time without exercising, I start getting a serious jones on for endorphins. The downside to all this, of course, is that I’ve become somewhat of a zealot and if you’re one of my friends and I notice that you’re spending a little too much time sitting on your ass with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in one hand and a remote in the other, you’re going to get called out.

Bottom line; there are things about this dream of mine that are beyond my control (i.e. the boat) and there are things that aren’t, and consistent writing and exercise are two that are.

Okay, so now on to the meat of the matter, my journey’s progression. About two weeks ago I sent out a second round of letters to 25 yacht and sailing clubs in New Zealand, Australia, Tasmania and Fiji, and as with the first round, I’m hoping they’ll eventually reach the right people. It’s important to note, however, that while a response from that part of the world hasn’t found its way back to me yet, it hasn’t dampened my spirits or dream in any way; it’s a cold call longshot from the get go and I’m wise enough to understand what that means. There are a very specific set of circumstances that need to line up for all this to come together and that might take a little time. That said, I’m also wise enough to understand the fluidity of life and to roll with any changes as they come and recalibrate where necessary. I have no idea if the trip will manifest itself in the way I originally conceived, but one way or another a grand adventure will ensue. I love the unknown and what will be will be.

To be sure, this last year has been one of the most interesting, successful and wildly exciting years of my life; I’m skiing again, surfing, sailing, writing, in best shape I’ve been in since my early 20s and I’ve got my eyes on a very big prize. In this and many other ways, fasterbarnacle has already taken me way beyond where I ever imagined my dream would and I feel eternally blessed to understand this.

A final word

Before I wrap this post up I want to leave you with a couple of cool examples that further illustrate the kind of impact you’ve had on my life from your forwarding of this site. First, I’ve had the opportunity to meet and sail with someone here in the Bay Area who’s provided me with some incredible, eye-opening and educational trips out onto the San Francisco Bay which have proven invaluable in shaping my understanding of sailing and the things I’ll need for a longer, more challenging voyage. And second, I’ve had the great joy to get reconnected with some old friends from my past — something I never would have expected in a million years, but arguably has been one of the coolest things about this whole endeavor.

So again, big mahalos for all your support and efforts thus far. I suspect this coming year will bring many more surprises and successes with some of them coming from another part of the world.

Aloha.

As the rain started to fall halfway through the single song encore of “Popplagið” — a rain that felt brought on by the magisterial, howling of the music — it was as joyous and surreal a rock ‘n roll moment as I and no doubt the rest of the 8500 soaked fans at the sold-out Greek Theatre had ever witnessed. Had it been a Guns n’ Roses video it would have seemed like contrived, cliché bombast, but as it was, this timely meteorological phenomena masquerading as rock show wizardry, was the perfect finale to an inspired 100 plus minute set of Icelandic musical sorcery.

But truthfully, the moment wouldn’t have had nearly the impact had it not followed what came minutes before it. After a set of noisy, soaring, melodious anthems and floaty ballads, the band closed things out with arguably the poppiest, most radio friendly song they’ve written, “Gobbledigook” (off their new album, með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust), and took it to a place I don’t think anyone was expecting. The song is pleasant enough on the album, but live — with four extra drummers (members of the warm-up band Parachutes), the big, engulfing sound of the Greek, furious acoustic guitar playing, a stadium of bouncing, clapping fans and more confetti than could ever be found in a small child’s wildest dreams — it was a celebratory piece that made your heart want to explode with joy.

Singing mostly in Icelandic and occasionally in Vonlenska (a gibberish language), lead singer and guitarist Jón þór “Jónsi” Birgisson’s angelic falsetto and bowed guitar playing, were the perfect guides for this strange and wonderful journey of a show. Not being able to understand what was being sung, gave the music a unique kind of authority that wouldn’t have been there otherwise. And because of this, the lyrics had no more weight than any other part of the music and the vocal melodies were able to weave anonymously throughout the songs. Saying one couldn’t understand what was being sung, in fact, is a bit of a misstatement, because at the deepest level, where it counts, the band’s songs are easily understandable and, for me at least, triggered a number of different emotions. Looking around at the audience’s faces and hearing them phonetically singing along to their favorite songs and one can easily understand the power of this mystifying music.

It’s a beautiful thing when decades into your life, you experience something that transcends everything similar before it. Even more beautiful is when that something transcends heights you never would have imagined could be topped. Last night, October 3rd at the Sigur Rós show here in Berkeley, was one of those moments.

Forget the fact that my friends and I bought the sold-out tickets off craigslist just hours before the show, or that it was a rare warm summer night in Berkeley (a meteorological phenomenon in its own right) and that it was supposed to rain all evening (the forecast called for an 80% chance) but didn’t (at least not until the most dramatic moment possible), or that despite being a fan, this was my first time seeing the band live… forget all that and you still have a night that was so perfect, so authentic feeling, so mesmerizing, so emotionally lifting, that I’m reeling from its still.

The last time I experienced something like this was about 10 years ago when I witnessed a sunset that was — and still is — the most amazing sunset I’ve ever seen. Now by definition, all sunsets are uniquely spectacular and so qualifying them in this way almost seems sacrilegious, but sometimes something is so special — so off the hook — you have no choice but to recognize and celebrate its audacious individuality.

Anyway, I go off on this tangent in the hope it’s able to bring further perspective and gravity to what I witnessed last night — something that while inseparable from everything before it, has managed to separate itself completely. I know for some this may seem like ridiculous hyperbole (to compare sunsets and rock shows), but given what music means to me and the power I believe it possesses to change the world, it’s what I’m left with.

Sigur Rós is dynamic on record to be sure, but live they are something else entirely. A religious experience? Maybe, but I’m now speaking in tongues…

or is it Vonlenska.

Pau.

I’m finding lately that amongst my friends there are two types of people: those who would shell out their last cent for a good, quality roll of toilet paper and those who wouldn’t. This isn’t a judgment of character by any means, it’s merely an observation of where people are willing to cut corners and where they aren’t. Admittedly, until not too long ago, I had nothing but the cheap stuff hanging in my bathroom, but I must also add, in my defense, this was more by default than by choice (okay, some choice).

The thing is, I rarely buy my own toilet paper (or most sundries for that matter) and my friends who often do my shopping for me — for whatever reason — have been under the mistaken assumption I don’t like to buy anything that’s not on sale or that can actually be fit into a closet. I’m not complaining, I don’t see any reason — for example — to purchase a Reach brand toothbrush when I can get 107 Walgreens ones — which are exactly the same — at a lesser price. But that said, there are certain things where knockoff brands just won’t cut it and toilet paper, I’ve come to learn, is one of them.

Truthfully I probably wouldn’t have given this subject much consideration if my home wasn’t regularly filled with friends (a fair percentage of them being female) and I was the only one using my bathroom/toilet paper. But as I’m not the only one using my bathroom/toilet paper and I live by the philosophy “mi casa es su casa”, there’s a level of comfort that exists whereby my houseguests feel they can openly “critique” any product in my home they may or may not use. I have no problem with this, if I’ve purchased something that doesn’t work or is inferior to something else, I want to know about it. And by far the biggest and most vocal complaint has been about my choice of toilet paper.

Now I know what you’re thinking, how could anyone whose life is so centrally focused on their behind be so cavalier about their bathroom’s most important paper product (no doubt, the women out there have been shaking their head at my ignorance since the start of this piece)? And I can only say paralysis and a certain level of compromised sensation in the nether region led to my prolonged apathy. That said, we all see the light sometime and with a little help from my friends, I now have some of the best and cushiest TP money can buy. You may find faults with my soap dispensers, but you won’t feel shortchanged after making a pit stop in my place.

So here are some of the simple rules I’ve learned about choosing a quality toilet paper (in no particular order).

1. Know which of these three criteria matter to you most: strength, softness, or value
2. With the above in mind, be wary of “the deal”. 128 rolls for $3.99 might be tempting, but that savings will cost you where it really counts. Bottom line; you get what you pay for.
3. If strength is important to you (and why wouldn’t it be considering the task at hand), go with a 2 ply. Keep in mind, however, you can always fold a quality single ply.
4. If softness is your bag, the general consensus is go with Northern Quilted. But beware, word has it it’s kind of gone downhill of late. In lieu of this, go with something that has either angels or bear cubs on the packaging (kittens or baby chicks would be fine too) … preferably both or better still, some sort of amalgamation.
5. At all costs avoid any toilet paper that has a picture of two bald men on the cover, regardless of whether they’re smiling or wearing lab coats. In fact, avoid any toilet paper that has any sort of grown man on it (especially with a moustache)… you’ll thank me in the end.

And there you have it. I leave you with a quote from Oscar Wilde that not only applies to your next shopping outing for toilet paper, but I believe life in general.

“A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing”.

Go forth and wipe with comfort and confidence.

pau