Master Blueprints # 41: "Seen A Shooting Star Tonight and I Thought of You”

(Personal reflections inspired by Bob Dylan songs)

Song: “Shooting Star”
Album: Oh Mercy
Release Date: September 1989

I can’t recall if I’ve ever had to travel 3 weeks in a row for work before, but I just completed such an undertaking.  The multi-part journey included five presentations at four meeting/conference related destinations in Ottawa Ontario (Canada), Saratoga Springs New York, Augusta Maine, and Baltimore Maryland.  In each case, I decided to drive rather than fly, which added up to 2300 miles of road network, roughly the equivalent of a coast-to-coast trek from Savanah Georgia to San Diego California.  Saratoga was a no-brainer for this mode of travel, but Ottawa and Baltimore are at the very edges of what I will consider for automobile travel for work; both destinations being precisely 400 miles away from my Massachusetts home.  As a matter of fact, in the case of Baltimore, I’ve more-often-than-not chosen air travel in the past…there’s simply too much Jersey Turnpike between here and there. Ottawa, which is also a frequent destination, is a bit more complicated with air travel - related to bureaucracy - the explanation of which is beyond the scope of this blog entry.  

I chose to drive to all these destinations for 2 reasons.  First off, it allowed me to listen to a lot of Bob Dylan, including studio albums as diverse as Empire Burlesque, Street Legal, Knocked Out Loaded, and Oh Mercy, along with Live 1962-1966: Rare Performances from the Copyright Collections (which served me for the last blog entry) and other stuff.  I listened to Dylan as I drove along Route 2, which connects the picturesque Lake Champlain island-chain in Northern Vermont.  I listened as I spanned immense rivers, including the St. Lawrence, the Ottawa, the Susquehanna, the Hudson, the Delaware, the Housatonic and the Connecticut.  I listened as I made my way through 10 States and 2 Provinces.  I listened as I took in the beauty of the fall colors, the rustic, rural villages, the snow-capped mountains and the evening starlit skies.

The second reason was so I could have the flexibility to connect with good friends who live in or near the cities I visited, as well as the regions I travelled through. All seven friends I reached out to responded in the affirmative, and in each case, the given friend went out of his/her way in one form or another to make it happen.  It was touching and reminded me that the friendships I’ve forged over the years - many now scattered across the North American landscape and beyond - are strong and long lasting.  But it also reminded me that so much in our lives can be fleeting, and that we must seize moments like these when we can.  Frankly, I could have thrived solely on the friendships I’ve made with current colleagues on these trips….my daylight work connections.  Off the top of my head I can think of at least 20 of them.  However, the extra-curricular bonding with my longstanding friends made these trips far more meaningful and memorable, and so those are the ties that really stand out. 

Despite all that Bob Dylan listening, I’d had little to show for it regarding this entry as I made my way home through New Jersey and New York this past Thursday.  Usually, I have an abundance of chicken-scratch notes to draw from as my work week winds down, but not this time.  One thing I had done was zero in on the closing number off Oh Mercy, “Shooting Star” as my forty first Master Blueprint.  It’s a song of such deep faith-based yearning ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXTElsREny4 ), including this appeal to God:

"Seen a shooting star tonight
 And I thought of me
 If I was still the same
 If I every became what you wanted me to be
 Did I miss the mark or over-step the line
 That only you could see?
 Seen a shooting star tonight
 And I thought of me”

Side note:  The above URL includes 2 outtakes of “Shooting Star” each of which have lyrics that I’d never heard before until this write up.  One line goes “Seen a shooting star tonight against the grain / Up in the hotrod sky, ‘cross the prairies of Maine”, which kinda blew my mind seeing as that line in a nutshell was what I physically and mentally experienced two weeks ago on the part of my 3-week odyssey that took me to Augusta.

Anyhow, I could have run with a religious theme here, but I’ve often delved deep into faith in these Bob Dylan-centric blog entries this year (which was inevitable, as I knew would be the case when I decided to write a series inspired by this musician). And since I am likely to do so at least one more time before I put a bow on these Master Blueprints, I made up my mind that I needed to take a slightly different tact this go around.  But where was I to turn?  What could I focus on?  Fortunately, “Shooting Star” includes yearnings of the much more earthlier kind (this type of blending is one of many ways that makes Bob Dylan so fascinating) including these lyrics:

“Seen a shooting star tonight
 And I thought of you
 You were trying to break into another world
 A world I never knew
 I always kind of wondered
 If you ever made it through
 Seen a shooting star tonight
 And I thought of you”

And so, with all this in mind, I’m at the tail end of my journey this past Thursday evening, sitting at the funky music venue, Darryl’s House, in Pawling New York, with good friend, and former colleague, Jeff.  We are watching Jim Lauderdale perform (who half way through his excellent set, blurted out the between-song poignant statement “The Von Trapp Family is escaping!”, which many in the crowd did not seem to get…. but I did). I’d pretty much let go my quest for “Shooting Star” inspiration for the time being when suddenly it hit me:  For the past 3 weeks I’d been connecting with shooting stars in my life… those wonderful friendships I’d rekindled with in Ottawa, Saratoga, Montpellier, Baltimore and Pawling New York.  Without further ado, here’s a rundown of those Fall of 2018 ‘Magnificent Seven’ connections:

Luc:  A friend since 1982.  Luc has been in a wheelchair his entire adult life. He’s handled it all with grace and belly-laugh humor. We bond on many levels, because, like myself, Luke is a deep thinker.  He’s also an author, having written a biography (in French) of his personal journey, which includes details of the accident that changed his life, as well as the long road of rehab.  Luke has been bedridden for several months due to a bad sore that needed heeling and was just on the cusp of getting a little time in the upright position when I arrived in Ottawa.  He made it a point to work me into this tight schedule.  

Being a fellow writer, Luc connects with me on this level as well.  He’s been one of my best supporters in this blog endeavor of mine.  We talked quite a bit about the blog.  We also talked about his recent setback and about the demands on my work life these days.  On my way out, Luc stopped me, looked me in the eyes and told me that he saw a bit of burnout in my face. He made the case that life is too short to get over worked-up about demands on the job and pleaded that I consider easing my foot off the gas pedal.  It’s advice that could only come from a close friend.  I’ll try to heed it.

Shooting Stars.

Pat: A friend since 1982.  Upon my last day in Ottawa, I visited Pat at his home in Stittsville, about 30 minutes southwest of the city.  I stayed overnight, as has been my modus operandi every time I’ve visited Ottawa for work over the past 10 years.  Pat and Sharon’s door is always open for me in generosity and good spirit.  Pat was in training for a new position at his workplace the week I was there, but this did not deter him from finding a way to fit me in.  The two of us have experienced quite a bit together over the last 36 years, which has included he and Sharon making frequent visits to my neck of the woods the past 7 or so summers.  This evolving tradition unfortunately did not pan out this summer, which I felt primarily responsible for.  It was with that thought on my conscience when I knocked on Pat’s front door. I was soon swept away from such thoughts, however, by Pat’s warm greeting and the crack of a beer bottle opening.   

Pat can discuss with you in significant detail just about any topic that comes to mind, from totem poles, to black holes, to Dead Sea Scrolls.  Years ago, when I started doing Music and Memory writeups for friends and family, Pat saw something in my style and recommended I read Robert Pirsig’s masterpiece, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. That book had quite the effect.  I reflected on this with Pat and told him about an encounter I had with a nice fellow at a bar earlier that week as I was watching the Boston Red Sox putting another beating on the Los Angeles Dodgers on their final march to World Series glory.  Out of the blue, the guy in the Ottawa bar recommended Lila, the follow up to Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.  It reminded me so much of Pat’s recommendation years earlier.  Zen indeed. 

Shooting Stars.

Jamie:  A friend since 1989.  Jamie and I originally met at work.  The friendship was instantaneous.  I hooked up with him at his home in Montpellier Vermont on my way back from Ottawa.  Jamie cut short his work day to connect.  I met up with his family and from there, he took me down to a local baseball field, where his son proceeded to strut his pitching prowess. Pretty impressive. Jamie has been a relentless ally in guiding my daughter Charlotte on her career path, with sage advice. Years ago, he hooked Nancy and I up with a close friend of his as we toured the Black Forest region of Germany.  That friend took us in and served us arguably the best meal of our entire trip across Europe that glorious summer of ’89.  Jamie looks you right in the eye when you talk with him.  I always know I’ve got his rapt attention every time we converse.

Coincidentally, Jamie is one of four of the Fall of 2018 Magnificent Seven whom I visited with this week who were all once part of a camping caravan every spring and fall (the others being Kernell, Saiping and Jeff, and I’ll also include a friend named Harlow in this crew, who I visited with on a work trip to Albuquerque New Mexico in September).  I organized these weekend camping and hiking trips in the seven or so autumns before Charlotte was born; my earliest years with the US Geological Survey.  Jamie taught me the joy of field guides, be they guides on identifying trees, insects, birds, mushrooms, aquatic invertebrates, you name it.  Hikes soon morphed from the concept of conquering mountain peaks to one of stopping and smelling the roses.

Shooting Stars.

Mike: A friend since 2006.  I include one current colleague here as representative of all current colleagues who I have connected with these past 3 weeks, including Kim, Mike L, Judy, Carol, Larry, Dan, Jen, Mike W, Cary, Marie-Eve, Mike M (yes, plenty of Mikes), and many others.  Mike and I met when he shouted out “Is that THE Pete Steeves” from across the Captain Daniel Patrick Inn pub in Mystic Connecticut upon my entrance, during a regional GIS conference there in 2006 (“NEARC”; the same one I attended in Saratoga Springs 2 weeks ago).  We’ve been laughing ever since.  Mike is a go-getter, a self-made entrepreneur who has done very well for himself.  How he looks up to this civil servant, I’ll never know.  I appreciate it though, because I believe there is huge value in what I do, and it’s good to see when someone in the private sector recognizes it.

Mike’s Dad and my Dad joined us at last year’s NEARC in Newport Rhode Island, for the Tuesday evening banquet event.  It was a highlight moment for me; my Dad taking in my work world, yukking it up with Mike’s Dad, and the four of us getting a hoot out of each other.  Mike invited me to his farm last year, and I watched in absolute hilarity as he ran out into the middle of the mud strewn pig pen to feed his hogs, who were chasing after him.  There was abject fear in Mike’s eyes at the thought of slipping.  I believe I got particular enjoyment out of it because, if the roles were reversed, he’d have no doubt reacted in kind.

Shooting Stars.

Saiping: A friend since 1988.  When people ask me who I credit launching my career path, without hesitation I say “Saiping”.  I’d already been hired by USGS as a GIS staffer when I met Saiping, who was already working in the GIS wing of the office.  My experience with the software to that date was pretty standard.  Saiping put it into overdrive, showing me the ropes with programming, which oriented me in a much more fascinating and sought-after direction, ultimately leading to national and international endeavors.  Saiping was patient with me, a trait which comes across in her general demeanor. 

It was so great to see Saiping again.  She made the hour drive north to Baltimore from the Washington D.C. region to connect, having to curtail an evening of dinner and fun with a larger crowd, due to an unexpected conflict.  That worked out just fine:  We bumped up our rendezvous, and so I ended up having quality one on one time with her instead.  It had been a while; longer than anyone else on this Fall of 2018 Magnificent Seven crew.  We reminisced on this fact some, silently absorbing how quickly time can pass by.  Saiping’s name means ‘duckweed’ in Mandarin Chinese.  Her one sibling, Maiping’s name, means beautiful.  We laughed about this from the perspective of her parents and what they were thinking with their naming conventions.  It’s about as far as Saiping will go with biting humor.  I’m good with that.  Better yet, I’m graced with that.

Shooting Stars.

Kernell: A friend since 1989.  Kernell broke away from an extended family visit to join me in Baltimore for an evening of fun and games (billiards).  Here is another name that’s worthy of a little commentary.  I’ve been connected with Kernell longer than anyone in my professional circles.  I’m honored to state this, as I will explain, but on the very frequent occurrence when I’ve been in a position to talk about Kernell, I’ve had to explain that I was not going all military on everyone, seeing as the term ‘colonel’ is uttered in identical fashion. Well, as I mentioned in my speech at his retirement party, saluting was not a problem for me in the end.

If Saiping launched my career path, Kernell sustained it.  Together we developed unarguably one of the most innovative products in the USGS in the past 20 years; that being StreamStats ( https://water.usgs.gov/osw/streamstats/ ).  At that dinner gathering in Baltimore - the one Saiping had to miss - we sat next to one another.  Kernell opened up to me on things going on in his personal life. We all have to confront turmoil at one time or another. It was nice that he would want to welcome my thoughts.  He has done the same for me over the years.  Such a peaceful, soul, Kernell.  I wish the best for him always.  Many years ago, when Kernell was leaving the Massachusetts USGS office to work in headquarters after 20 plus years, I noted in yet another speech that he looked far younger than his age at the time; so much so that he must have been running home from USGS in his earliest years to play Kick the Can with his buddies. May Kernell stay forever young.

Shooting Stars.

Jeff: A friend since 1989.  Jeff went out of his way to connect with me, searching out a good concert along my ride home and then driving several hours east from his Pennsylvania household to join me.  We ended up catching that aforementioned Jim Lauderdale show in Pauling New York. Jeff is another ex-colleague as well as a true music aficionado, having attended more concerts than anyone else I know.  He is also a very generous friend, having sent me an endless supply of homemade CDs and DVDs of shows he has witnessed over the years, as well as others he’s taped off radio interviews, etc.  Aside from all that, he’s simply an open honest friend.

Jeff is a key reason I can say I connect with Bob Dylan’s music.  Same goes for so many other musicians, including Townes Van Zandt, Joan Baez, Graham Parsons, Sean Colvin, and many others. Like Jamie, Jeff also has a strong connection with the biodiversity around him.  The morning after the show we took in a short hike up the road, Jeff pointing out a number of flora species endemic to the region.  He spends most of his time in his 3-acre yard, planting, weeding, and pruning.  He reaps what he sows, which in his case is pretty darn rewarding. 

Shooting Stars.

- Pete