Barn raising, barn razing, barn reminiscing.

While 2012 winds down, I'm pulling back my focus to look at the big picture (more details upcoming...). But I'd be remiss if I didn't comment upon a recent event that meant a great deal to me - both as in the lead up to and after the fact.

If you've ever admired the old Swedish barn in the background of this blog's old-timey template, you might appreciate a bit more detail. It was built in 1890, primarily by Simon Danielson who was my father's mother's uncle - Granduncle or maybe Great Granduncle...I might be missing a generation in there and I'm not entirely sure of the term to use. Nonetheless, I spent countless hours working and playing in that barn as a kid. From the house I grew up in from the age of 10, that barn was within view. Whenever anyone looked toward the western horizon, there she stood watch - massive, weathered, grayish-yellow-and-brown. I don't know anything about architectural physics, but the weight of the upper levels seems to have tested the lower structure's integrity greatly. It was obvious to anyone who saw her in the last few years that the sideways lean toward the town road had become precarious. To hold the inevitable in check, she was strung through by five load-bearing cables. For a while, the epic, virgin-timber bones of this grand childhood neighbor had moved to a shifted but stayed position.

Well, that is until last week.

With little advance notice, it came to light that four of the five cables had stripped. It had changed from a lingering hope to a possible danger. Luckily, an often well-timed neighbor was using a fleet of agile, land-moving equipment nearby. So rather than letting it dump out and disintegrate on its own, they eased her down.

Over the years, I'd made a habit of taking at least a few pictures of the barn whenever I return to Wisconsin. The one above is from a clear, brisk afternoon less than two months ago. It holds the distinction of being the last one I will ever take of that beloved homestead icon.

Some days are for barn raising. Others are for barn razing. If you're lucky, some folks gather to assist and maybe even help reflect upon the enormity of such things for a farming family. That's basically how she went for mine.

For a number of days before our barn went down, I'd been having trouble focusing on my work. The natural thought was to blame the Holidaze, and how all the details of what came off as a lovely time for us all at that point had hijacked my focus. I've come to see that just maybe there was a different reason behind my recently skewed equilibrium. This surely sounds like rationalization after the fact - I'm hardly one to fixate upon premonitions or the like. Yet I will always believe that I knew something was out of balance. That is, until our barn went down. Put another way, I feel so much better now. In this I'm serious yet oddly relieved - the barn going down was something I anticipated without even knowing about it until after the fact. Did I feel the pull for a chance to move on, even from nearly 2000 miles away? Maybe I did.

With that off my chest...I'd come to this post wanting to talk about the Farm Bill and the infinitely cool new Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI) that I got to preview yesterday before the grand opening this weekend. There will be time for that and so many other areas of deserving focus in 2013. Please check back. I'm leaning forward, after all. If you haven't already noticed.

Future plans for NYC, farm funding, and redheads.

Although I'd planned to stick a fork in my research-y travel plans when I'd reached the end of August (and the end of the "Year On the Road" that began for me last September), I'm still very much looking forward to a pre-planned week back out there in America in early October. That's when I'm heading back to NYC for a inspiring mix of pursuits. Included in all that was a desire to catch a few events on the last day of this year's "New Yorker Festival". This morning was the opening of trigger-pullin' time - tickets went up for sale promptly at 9am PST. I had my daughter watch my web browser refreshing as I threw together our last few things before hopping her bike and pedaling toward Seattle's crazy late schoolday start. My results? Straight up 50-50. I got the Salman Rushdie conversation with David Remnick I'd put at the top of my wish list. Rushdie's memoir Joseph Anton will rightly be on top of coveted nightstands all around the world in little more than a month. However, I didn't get the walking and eating tour that Calvin Trillin does, taking a small group looking to nosh from Greenwich Village to Chinatown. That sold out in literally one minute. If I'd reversed the order of this short list...who knows. But seriously one minute? Just goes to show that few writers still earn the love quite like Mr. Trillin.

On a totally different page, the required reboot of the Farm Bill increasingly looks to be put out to pasture by this Congress. Few pundits are yet projecting hard numbers, but I'd bet a gallon of Roundup that there are a handful of races that just might tip to the challenger if nothing gets done. The timing is just brutal for not just farmers - the current bill runs out at the end of September. That could mean a month of being home in Districts campaigning while farmers cut from all stripes unload a bit of drought-fueled frustration. I'll even predict a whole lot of YouTube-ready moments capturing that collective frustration. If you've paid no attention to this debate, no worries - not even the wonkiest seem at all engaged. But as someone who has developed a tangential interest in ag policy and who now pays more attention to how this Congress is dealing with actual requirements when it comes to legislation, I'm appalled. It's not the sausage making. It's the complete unwillingness to pick up that casing and get on with the stuffing.

Finally, I try to stay away from most of the links half-way or more down the homepage of the Huffington Post. No disrespect - they have become masters at goosing traffic from even the most tired foibles. But I got grabbed by one of their science writers today - Cara Santa Maria - playing up the "ginger fear" card. Not the "Fear the Ginger" card. Those are very different cards. Basically, she did a clever job of making fun of us redheads while supposedly reassuring us that we're not on the road to extinction. Almost makes me want to grow it all out again - show some solidarity with my not-really-threatened compatriots and all that jazz. Then again, pieces like this show how a derivative artist like M.I.A. probably gets her ideas. Hug a redhead today, won't you? We're not infectious - I promise. And, obviously, we need the love.

On the road again - DC edition

I'm back on the research road - flying high above this quite large nation on my way to our Nation's capital. I'll spend a number of days on the ground there, pursuing a plethora of new angles. I arrive on a day I hope will not feature the Postal Service defaulting on the first of their sizable financial commitments. But that souffle may already be cooked, given that Congress hasn't acted on much of anything other than anti-abortion legislation as of late (unsuccessfully, it should be added). And what of the Ag Bill still hanging in limbo as the Nation struggles with a terrible drought? Not much happening there, either. What to do, you might ask, if there's so little goshdarn legislating being done in the required home of such activity? My schedule will be tight, but I am planning to mix it up with some frenzied museum time. Yes, I do indeed know how to party. For those keeping score at home, I have a wish list that includes the following:

• Fort McHenry in Baltimore is a place I know little about other than the basics - think War of 1812, the origins of "The Star Spangled Banner", and probably a fair amount of other stuff. It requires a trek. For those paying attention, however, I do dig being this sort of trekkie.
• Continuing along those Bicentennial themes, the National Portrait Gallery has a War of 1812 exhibit in place. I'd read a review a few months back that intrigued me. Prior to that, I only recall Stephen Colbert's hilarious pursuit of inclusion in the museum's holdings. Put this one at the top of my museum geek wish list for this visit.
• To finish the short list the nerd-poriums I'm hoping to bag, a secret plan to visit the Spy Museum has always stuck in the back of my neck like a poison-tipped dart. In a good way. So add that little divulged secret to the ledger.

I do have other plans. I'll keep y'all updated, if you'll be so good as to check back. But we're heading into Memphis - wow, now that's a sunrise worth tweeting about. As in what a bird should be doing - there's another word lost forever to modernity.

Ai Weiwei, farm subsidies and a healthy man crush.

Hot doggie - dang glad to reflect upon the fortuitous timing of my recent Eastern Standard swing. In contrast, Seattle's facing full on June-uary as of now. Whatever the upcoming forecast, I feel the need to sweat out a few stories so I might re-hydrate and move on.

•  The Chinese government just cannot stop messing with Ai Weiwei. I still haven't seen the documentary about his struggles that has been making the art-house rounds ("Never Sorry"). His story unfolds in totally depressing ways almost daily. The tax evasion case the government is using to flummox and shut him down artistically keeps moving forward. I mention this as a not so friendly reminder of how artists of all stripes in China are struggling to freely express themselves. Total drag.
• In other news that far too few people notice, the Senate just passed the Farm Bill's mandated renewal to the tune of $1-Trillion-with-a-T over the next decade. To start digging into what's there is to borrow the shovel from Hercules and step onto the threshold of the Augean Stables. Everyone gloms questionable junk onto this sort of omnibus bill (Harry Reid had to massively compromise the amendments down to just 73). I imagine that even the wonkiest beltway tools glaze over when this debate gets ranging everywhere from sugar beet subsidies to aid to Pakistan and all sorts of questionable places in between. This collective absurdity now heads to the House for them to do their business all over. Believe it or not, I find plenty in all the Farm Bill stimulating. Some people get their kicks from 50 Shades of Grey and the sequels. Are my kinks any dirtier? Don't answer that.
• I can't believe I'm saying the following without electrodes being threateningly attached to some unmentionable part of my body. Here goes...congrats to the Miami Heat for winning the NBA Championship. If they'd faced any team other than the one stolen from Seattle, I'd be on the other side of that victory parade. But until my secret man-crush Chris Hansen (no, not the creepy "To Catch a Predator" host, I'm talking about the previously anonymous hedge-fund brainiac) gets Seattle's elected curmudgeons to sign off on a dual-use stadium for our dreamed of new NBA and NHL franchises (stolen from cities to be named later...apologies in advance, America), the only team I consistently cheer for is the one playing against Clay Bennett's OKC Thunder. Way to go, Heat-meisters. Now knock it off.

With that said, let the summer begin. Keep cool out there, Campers.