Just over 2 weeks ago Matthew and I recorded our first podcast conversation in 5 years. 2 weeks ago he was getting himself mentally and physically prepared to take on chemo therapy, knowing it would be bad, but how bad would it get? 2 weeks of chemo therapy and its horrid side effects, today Matthew checks in to talk about how his daily struggle is progressing. We also talk about family, friends, the internet, gaming and how it all ties into this ongoing battle to live.
Matthew Karamoon is a longtime friend of this podcast who over the years has contributed his observations on and off the air. This summer he learned that he is dying of cancer that is uncurable. In an effort to survive longer and have more time with his young family, he is persuing immune therapy that comes at a price tag he cannot afford. Therefore we as a community of friends and yes even strangers, are getting involved and helping Karamoon get the therapy he needs. On today’s program I talk about Karamoon and go back to moments where he has been on the program. The goal here is to get more support… so if you’re reading or listening.. I’m talking to you.
Manipulation of any person or group of persons fear (the emotion of terror, hence TERRORism) in order to gain obedience/forceful agreement, or accomplish a certian objective.
The topic is unfortuantely overly discussed in an almost routine way in our world today: the sharing economy, the good that it does, who is in it, and who is against it. Yet even the definition of what is the sharing economy is pretty fuzzy. On today’s podcast the subject is the sharing economy and growth, what happens when these often interesting and beneficial services grow into global empires? Where does the human and society fit into this equation that is so focused on earning income by tapping into untapped resources in every day life?
Made my way up to Stockholm to spend quality time with my pal Martin of the Stocktown Chronicles Podcast. Together we sat back, drank tea, and discussed what we’ve seen emerge and change in podcasting since the very first days. Sit back, turn up the volume, and emerse yourself in this conversation.
I didn’t see the sign that would have said “Welcome to Virginia” accompanied by what I assume is still the “Virginia is for lovers” tag line. All I saw along busy Interstate 77, through the pouring rain and looming fog, were some impressive hills that caused our fragile little compact car to wince as its engine revved in search of some non-existent muscle. I was hoping to see the sign as an indicator of progress, as we passed hour number 7 on what should have been an 8 hour drive, but the large dark figures that began to line the road were sign enough: we’ve arrived in Appalachia, sacred region of culture, lore, and some crazy beautiful nature. Of course as far as the highway is concerned, it’s just more asphalt with slightly better scenery for the next 6 hours.
And so it was, that the day before Christmas eve a little car with New Jersey plates struggled its way to a beautiful town called Luray, Virginia. To visit friends, rest, but also to get a quick glimpse of what life is like there; another world that seems cut off from most everything, at least in my head.
Arriving in late evening in a rural American town in the mountains of Virginia, what you get is an extremely silent and still atmosphere. The craziest thing one can see are the winding roads and the tasteful Christmas lights decorating main street. Shops seemed to have closed hours ago, while the windows of closed restaurants still reveal some condensation from customers who were very recently enjoying a meal. Luray is sleepy at night, but there are plenty of signs that when the world wakes up tomorrow, this place will be busy.
photo by Rory Finneren via Flickr
There is nothing quite like waking up in a perfectly silent farm house made of stone and wood surrounded by nature and little else. Not too surprisingly, next to the bed of this fantastic bnb, there is one of those artificial noise machines so you can listen to the wind or some soothing white noise, if silence is too off-putting to fall asleep to. Looking outside I see the vast green of forrest and fields that last night were nothing but shadows around my headlights. Scanning the horizon I see a house or two and wonder if those far away neighbors wake up the same way every day. Or maybe they just curse life and get on with it.
Sadly there is only time for oatmeal, tea, a quick walk around the building to listen to the rustling of leaves in the wind, water from a nearby stream, a cow or two somewhere nearby. We take it all in as quickly as possible, as the highway is a-callin’ and Christmas in New Jersey waits for no man (or woman). Driving past the farm houses, some in excellent condition, many abandoned, I can’t help wonder what happened to those people. Did they move away in search of more profitable work? Did they die in their now dilapidated homes, no one to take over and fix things up. How many family lines ended here? – This was not surprisingly followed by another typical line of thinking: what would it be like to take up residence here? Would a fool like me feel at home making a life next to Shenandoah National Park? Would every day be interesting and rewarding in some way? Wait, what am I talking about.. isn’t the grass always greener somewhere else? Don’t we typically trade good and bad aspects in one particular place for a set of mixed circumstances elsewhere? Is this part of being human, in the end? Few of these questions will ever get an answer. They are mostly just sparks in an over active imagination. But when you spend even only a few hours surrounded by such peace and beauty… sparks sure do fly.
