The Sketch Newtonian

Ah, how the time does fly.

Now is not the time, however, for reflections on the summer as a whole.  That comes at the very end.  I will say that I am having way too much fun, but I think I will be ready to do the Air Force thing when the time comes.  I have also been recently alerted to the number of people who now read my blog.  While surprising, I am rather touched that so many want to see how my life is progressing.  Bill, if you are reading this, you should be commended, as starting the blog was yet another in a long chain of your good ideas.

I am currently on my last set of days off here at Philmont.  I get the next few days to visit my friends at other camps and enjoy relaxing in or around the Philmont area.  When I get back to French Henry, however, it will be time for our Phil-Fiesta.  The Phil-Fiesta is a time honored tradition wherein each camp holds its own party ("fiesta" en espanol) to celebrate the coming end of the summer.  Naturally, the name of said party bears the obligatory prefix of "Phil" to make it truly a Philmont event.  The simplest explanation of a Phil-Fiesta is a chance to invite all your friends from staff to enjoy better than average food, games, and commeraderie (sp?) at your camp.  It is sure to be a blast.

While I do have a Phil-Fiesta to look forward to, it is somewhat unsettling to think that the party also marks the beginning of my last week at Philmont.  Nonetheless, when Dano asks me "how are you on a scale from fabulous to magnificent?" the answer always remains "wonderfully fantastic."

Posted by Sketch Newton at 12:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

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Today I had the day off.  It was brutal.

Philmont is a funny place in that very often we work harder during our off time than when we are actually performing our duties per our employment contracts.  "How is this possible?" you may ask.  Well, I will tell you.

While I am at French Henry, I wake up, sit down to three meals a day, and teach campers about the mining industry in the 1920s.  It is rewarding, but hardly rigorous.  Perhaps the most challenging part is keeping my place in the book I am reading between crews.

On Friday, however, I went on days off, and proceeded to hike clear across the northern sector of the ranch so that I could come back and take a shower (turning down a steak dinner along the way I might add).  Today I hiked across the south country to visit a friend at another staffed camp.  I have missed lunch twice, and am tired and need a shower.

But that's what you do at Philmont.

Not every staff member uses their days to hike around the ranch.  The opportunities to enjoy Taos and Raton or to see a concert at Red Rocks are still very present, but what makes Philmont rather unique is that the majority of the staff members find it just as relaxing to remain at their place of employment when they are given the chance for a holiday rather than run off to get away from their jobs.  There simply isn't anything to run away from.

Just another reason why Philmont may be the best place on earth.

Posted by Sketch Newton at 01:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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It is amazing how much a little mail can lift spirits when one's place of employment does not enjoy the privileges of modern civilization.

While I admit it is nice to escape the pressures of day to day life when I am in the backcountry, whether that includes bank statements, insurance policies, or any number of commonplace inconveniences, the rare occassions when the mail is in fact delivered to my camp are always welcome.

And I tend to receive packages with my mail.

In the past week, I received a mandolin from my brother (which I have no idea how to play, but this fact has yet to make the gift any less cool) and a massive package from my parents.  I was happier than a tornado in a trailer park.  The package came with the aforementioned bank statements and insurance policies, but it also came with gummi bears and peanuts, which all goes to show that love manifests itself most commonly in the most common of ways.

Who doesn't love to get a postcard from a friend, even if that postcard came from down the street?  Chances are that every literate worker in that mailroom read what your friend had to say, but that does not change the sentiment one bit, which leads me to my conclusion:

MAIL IS LOVE.

Whereas the contranegative (no mail is not love) is not necessarily true, no one can deny the warm feeling that surges through one's body at the receipt of a letter from a friend.  So thank you US Postal Service.  Save the disgruntled workers, you have been spreading love for over 200 years, and that is something to smile about.  So please don't shoot me.

Now if you will excuse me, the new Guster album came out recently, and it is my duty as a fan to go listen to it immediately.

I LOVE YOU ALL!

Posted by Sketch Newton at 02:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

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