The board is a volunteer group of community members who meet regularly with the paper’s editorial staff to discuss issues facing our area, and to help ensure that the viewpoints expressed by the paper are the result of careful consideration and broad consultation.  In the end, it’s the Palladium-Item staff (and not the advisory board members) who craft the resulting columns, but Dale McConnaughay and others responsible for that task rely on the input received (and strong disagreements aired) through the board’s private conversations.  They also regularly invite community leaders to meet with the board for updates and discussion about projects underway.

This is a bit of an odd pairing, to be sure.  In the past I’ve not been shy in this space about pointing out some of the ways in which I think the paper could improve in its journalistic role in Richmond, and sometimes I’ve just plain disagreed with their editorial positions or the framing of their news stories.  I’m sure that there will be editorials written while I’m a board member that don’t represent my personal views.

But I’ve also found that the Palladium-Item and its staff have not only been willing to fully engage the constructive criticism it receives from me and others, they remain one of the most central spaces in our community for the exchange of information, ideas and conversation about the place we live.  One of my personal goals is to help raise the quality of public discourse in Richmond, Indiana, and so I’m honored by this invitation and look forward to serving.

There’s just enough time between the Christmas holiday and New Year’s Eve for people to get bored, but it’s not a good time to launch new TV shows or announce new political initiatives, so we have to have something to keep us entertained.

(As a kid this meant me listening to countdowns of the top one billion songs on the charts for that year, and somehow a Celine Dion or Aaron Neville song always made it into the top five…this was painful, but perhaps reflects more poorly on me and the particular genre of music station I was listening to than it does on all of the music produced in those years.)

But it’s been an unusually full year for me, so I thought I’d take a moment to reflect back on what that has included:

• Started the year newly engaged to be married to Kelly, a decision we made together on New Year’s Eve Day 2010
• Filed as a candidate for Richmond’s City Council, campaigned, debated, interviewed, door-to-doored, won in the primary election, didn’t win in the general election, and had an amazing experience along the way
• Planned a wedding, got married in May surrounded by the amazing support of friends and family, spent some time relaxing on the beaches of Sanibel Island to celebrate
• Traveled alongside Kelly as she experienced the life-changing symptoms of, and was later diagnosed with, Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS), and supported her as she continues to navigate the Western medical system, seeks paths to recovery, and adjusts to the new realities of her day-to-day life
• Lived in Portland, Oregon for a month during the summer, had some amazing adventures in the Northwest, got to participate in a vibrant and progressive city scene, caught up with some dear old friends and made some new ones
• Drove across the country and back, saw some beautiful landscapes and places including Mount Rushmore, Grand Teton and Yellowstone Park, and lived through a hailstorm in the badlands of South Dakota
• Welcomed three great new staff members to my technology company Summersault
• Adopted a wonderful labrador retriever named Chloe
• Read a bunch of books, watched a lot of movies

And those are just the highlights.  Whatever joys and challenges I’ve experienced this year, I clearly live a privileged life with many things to be thankful for.  At the center of it in 2011 has been the amazing experience of deepening in my love for and commitment to my partner Kelly; I don’t know what a “normal” engagement and beginning of a marriage looks like, but we’ve certainly had a lot of unusual adventures together this year, and I celebrate them all.

That said, I’m ready for 2012 to be here, artificial as that milestone might be.  I hope for more, faster progress in recovering Kelly’s health, continued clarity about ways I can make a real and lasting impact in my community and beyond, simplification of my possessions and personal property ownership, and enjoyment of some upcoming opportunities to have some fun.

What has 2011 been like for you?  What hopes or possibilities does the new year hold?  (Or if that’s too much to consider, which Celine Dion song is going to top the charts this year?)

Despite having lots of overlap in subject matter between my political efforts and my writings here, I will generally continue to keep my campaign-related news and updates on my ChrisOnCouncil.com website (BOOKMARK IT), and on my campaign Facebook page (LIKE IT) and Twitter account (FOLLOW IT).  But, I thought I’d give you a taste of some of the material my campaign is creating as we get back into that season.

You can watch a YouTube video interview with me:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SV8O9WPp4k

You can read about why I think this particular election matters.

You can follow some of my thoughts about the 2012 budgeting process going on right now in Richmond, which will set the budget that (if elected) I’ll be overseeing on Council.

I certainly welcome your thoughts, encouragement, support, endorsements, challenges and admonitions along the way.  If you have the means and inclination, campaign contributions of any amount are also accepted and will be put to good use immediately.

Thanks to everyone who has been a part of this adventure so far.  Here we go!

The most memorable and terrifying part of the trip was our stop at Badlands National Park.  We should have known something was brewing when the gas station a few miles outside the entrance to the park was all atwitter with talk of the weather and the ominous storm clouds in the distance, but we pressed on anyway.

When we got to a particularly beautiful canyon area and went out for a walk, the winds were blowing hard and bringing some serious temperature changes.  The sky continued to darken, and we knew we were in for a storm.  The rattlesnake that lay in our path a few yards up ahead seemed to suggest Turn Back While You Still Can, so we did.

Kelly: “I think we should get in the car quickly.”

Chris: “Oh, a little rain never hurt anyone.  It’ll feel good!”

Kelly: “I think we should get in the car quickly.”

Fellow tourists all around were darting into their cars quickly, so I let go of the “isn’t it wonderful to experience nature up close and directly” shtick and got in the car.

What was left of the ice AFTER it had broken into smaller pieces.

Not sixty seconds after we’d pulled out onto the road, I saw in the distance, in the direction of the ominous clouds, a breath-taking scene: the land and sky were turning white as some kind of wall of moisture moved across it.  Toward us.  I pulled over to the side of the road.  ”I think we’re about to…”

I didn’t even have time to finish my sentence when the first piece of hail hit.  It sounded like the car had been shot, and we both jumped in our seats.  There were definitely some forceful verbal expressions of fear and/or excitement going on.  Popcorn style, the huge pieces of hail continued to fall, although it seemed more like they were being launched – from above, from the side, from all around.  THWAP!  THWAP! THWAP!

When one left a nice nine-inch crack across the windshield, we looked at each other and wondered if we were in more danger than we first thought.  We scrambled to cover our faces with jackets, etc. in case something did shatter, though I couldn’t resist at times watching the balls of ice slam into the hood of the car.  BLAM!  BLAM! BLAM!

After a few minutes, it was over.  We pulled into a ranger station a bit up the road, and got out to survey the damage, along with a bunch of other drivers.  Windshields were broken, sunroofs cracked, and the huge dents in the metal were just unreal.  At least one ambulance went by, and Kelly and I recalled how close we’d been to standing outside when the ice hit.  Strangers became temporary friends as we all recounted our experience of the hailstorm.  The ranger was nonchalant: “we get about two of those per year.”

Fortunately for us, the damage we experienced can be relatively easily repaired, and we made it to our final destination without further weather drama. I have a certain amount of polite resentment for the insurance industry as a whole, but I have to say that I’m certainly lucky to have it in this case.  Ann and the folks at my wonderful insurance agency Harrington Hoch were able to process the claim quickly, and after the technicians at the auto body shop in Portland apparently dropped what they were doing to come see the cottage cheesed surfaces of the car when it came in, they were excited to get to work making the car look like new.

For me, I won’t ever again make the assumption of emerging from a hail storm unscathed, and when everyone around me is running for cover, I will be more open to the possibility (unlikely as it is) that they know something I don’t.

Your own severe weather event stories are welcome in the comment section below.

There are many things to say about the institution of marriage that I might normally be tempted to blog about; the legal, political, religious, cultural and social norms involved, the zaniness of the logistics involved when one decides to have a celebration with guests for the spectacle of what Ian Hay called “a ghastly public confession of a strictly private intention,” the total failure of contemporary wedding rituals to incorporate modern technological tools and devices into their proceedings (“what do you mean I can’t read my vows off my smart phone!?”), and so on.

But today, as friends and family gather to witness our commitment to each other and help us celebrate it, I can only speak of my deep appreciation for the community that has held and encouraged our relationship, the sense of adventure and happiness that I feel about what lies ahead, and my tremendous and growing admiration of and gratitude for who Kelly is – in my life and in the lives of so many others.

I am also grateful for the perspective that friends and life experience have helped me cultivate over time, that this commitment is not about “happily ever after” or reaching an end in itself, but instead about a new beginning; a place from which to start and a place to return; a complicated mix of hard work and letting go.

So…here we go!

Thanks to all who have offered words of congratulation and support.

Notes and programs from “must attend” (for a candidate, anyway) governmental and organizational meetings that seem to happen daily now, scattered across my desk.

People giving me warm “congratulations!” and me still not being sure if it’s because I’m running for office or getting married or hired a new staff member at work or because I just did a nice parking job.  “Thank you, I’m very excited!” is a genuine initial response for all four cases, and context clues help from there.

Surreal experiences of driving down random streets and seeing my name on a sign up ahead, still a bit jolting each time, I hope it always will be.

Conversations in coffee-shops and restaurants and on the phone about political strategy and commentary on the horse race, grateful for the advice and wisdom of those who support me or just those who have gone before, always mindful of not taking their time for granted.

More Facebook friend requests than I’ve ever received at any one time before.

Super long days, mostly sleeping well, but once in a while fidgeting nervously awake in the night, “I hope I don’t let them down.”

More hand-written thank you notes than I’ve written at any one time before.

As we go door to door, blushing at overhearing one of my awesome volunteers describing to a neighbor why they should vote for me.

Knowing smiles from those who have already held office, partly as if to say “welcome to the club,” and partly to say “what the heck are you thinking, get out while you can, it’s not too late!”

Gratefulness that local politics are simpler than state or federal politics, and then wondering if that’s actually true.

Wandering the neighborhoods and sidewalks of the city, thankful for what it is, excited about what it could be.

Ready.

I’ve spent much of my time and energy over the last decade of my life investing myself in Richmond in one form or another.  I’ve written many words in this space about what I see as Richmond’s opportunities and challenges, and I’ve always enjoyed observing the local political scene.  Now, I’m taking my involvement to what I think is the next logical step given my talents and passions.

I don’t expect to write much about the campaign here; this blog will continue to be for my personal and unofficial musings on a variety of topics.  I have a campaign website setup, and I’ve got the twitters and the youtubes and the facebooks all ready for you to liketweet if that’s your thing.  If you’re interested in the campaign, my positions on various issues affecting the community, and how you can help move Richmond forward, please check it out.  Even a few words of support will mean a lot!

The photos and videos I’ve posted on Flickr capture some of the experience, and while the trip held too much adventure to describe here in great detail, I’ll hit some of the highlights below.  (You can also go back and read individual posts written during the trip.)

Our trip was a nice combination of planned itinerary (primarily, the week-long stay on the boat M/Y Eric to tour around the Galapagos) and “wander around once we get there” mode.  The Lonely Planet Guide to Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands provide indispensable for the whole experience, from helping with food to lodging to cultural experiences and everything in between.  We were also visiting in advance of the heavier tourist season, so we were able to get into most any experience without advance reservation.

In the cloud forests of Mindo, to the northwest of Quito, we were so impressed by our stay at El Monte, a jungle lodge where we had a cabana for two nights.   Between the beautiful spot we had right on the rushing Mindo river, the amazing home-cooked meals three times a day, the beautiful main open-air lodge, and the warm and friendly staff, we were in paradise (mosquitoes notwithstanding).  We also had a chance to meet and dine with travelers from around the world, some of them on multi-month trips – it was quite fun (and okay, sometimes exhausting) to discuss politics, religion and economics with such a wide variety of global perspectives.  El Monte was created and is run by Tom and Mariella, who have worked hard to create an experienced powered by renewable resources (mostly hydro and solar) and supported by an amazing staff of cooks, guides, and hospitality coordinators.  We felt like we were among friends and well taken care of.

Our time in the Galapagos Islands was phenomenal.  The main theme of the encounters with the land and the animals of the islands is that they don’t know any fear of humans, and so it is possible to walk right up to a sea lion, a blue footed boobie bird or an iguana and look them in the eye. And that we did, day after day.  We sunned on the beach with the magnificent families of sea lions, and then joined them in the water when it got too hot. We snorkeled around amazing coral reef with penguins, sting rays, sharks and the most beautiful varieties of fish. We hiked through lava rock formations to see iguana resting and watching, huge bright red crabs sunning, waved albatross nesting, and great blue heron quietly stalking. Pelicans swooped by just inches away, and finches (all 13 varieties) showed us their nests. We watched in awe of the giant tortoises that had been alive longer than Kelly and I combined, slowly moving around their home in search of the best grass, the coolest pond.

After the Galapagos, we headed south into the Andes mountains for the city of Banos, where we originally intended to stay just a night or two, and ended up soaking it in for five days.  Banos seems to be the Ecuadorian equivalent of Boulder, Colorado – an outdoorsy person’s Mecca buried in the mountains, with myriad activities you can take on to pass the time.  Every block offers touring companies that will take you rafting, kayaking, canyoning, jungle tripping, go-carting, mountain biking and more.  There are trails extending up to the volcano and surrounding volcanic formations that range from steep to “are you kidding me?”   The best part is that once you’re done with your outdoor adventure, this place knows how to help you relax.  There are natural baths with water heated by the volcano, massage and spa companies on every block (most professional, some not), and so many different restaurants representing cuisine from around the world, it can take an hour to decide what to eat.  I think we found a good balance of high adventure (the most intense Class IV+ whitewater rafting either of us have ever done) followed by relaxation (ask me about the spa experience sometime).

Adjusting to different forms of transportation was a source of constant excitement on this trip.  As is apparently the case with much of South America, the experience of taking a bus between cities is very common, and can be very harrowing (especially for the uninitiated tourist).  Taxis in Quito seem to top even the most white-knuckle-grip experiences I’ve had in cities in the U.S.  One private driver we hired was an amazing and knowledgeable personal tour guide as he deftly navigated the different terrains, while another had never been to the destination we hired him to take us to and ended up depending on us for map navigation.  The Quito airport runway is a little bit short and sits smack dab in the middle of a densely populated city, so takeoffs and landings were a little nerve-wracking.  And it turns out that I am capable of getting quite sea sick, which I found out on night #1 on our Galapagos boat in the form of an evening-long  vomiting session on the sundeck.  Things got better from there, thanks in no small part to the great care from Kelly and the crew (and Scopolamine), but there were some moments where I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.  All in all, figuring out transportation was an adventure in itself.

This trip was the first real international travel I’d done in more than a decade, and my first time to South America.  Despite all of my detail-oriented preparation lists and packing and figuring out finances and scattered attempts to brush up on Spanish, in the end I just dove into the experience and let it take me where it would – this almost always resulted in great joy.  It was an honor to travel with Kelly, and we took good care of each other while enjoying the company greatly.  Ecuador was a beautiful, welcoming, diverse, complicated, amazing place to visit, and the experiences we had there were perspective-bringing and life-giving.

I’ll be happy to tell you more about it when I see you next.

Some observations on walking to work:

1. Since walking has become my usual mode of commuting, I’ve found myself noticing even more what complex and sometimes onerous machines automobiles can be.  There a feeling of lightness I have in walking out the door and propelling myself down the street, feeling my muscles working and pace changing, saying hi to people and noticing changes in their moods and dispositions from day to day, just being out in the open air of the world.  This is much different from the protocols for entering, activating and safely operating my internal combustion go-go machine from one place to another; it’s just a much heavier and more isolating experience, and while it still has its place, I’m quite glad to partake in it less often.
2. The walk takes about 15 minutes or less.  My prior residence was less than 2 miles from my office, which took about 30 minutes.  Even though Richmond tends not to be all that pedestrian-friendly, the previous longer route was especially obnoxious in the loud and busy roads I would walk, and so it became a bit of a psychological barrier to wanting to do it every day.  The 30 minute mark was just long enough to create some stress about how much of the day I might “lose” to walking back and forth, even though other calculations show we lose a good part of our day/lives to earning the money to be able to drive in.  In any case, 15 minutes feels like a great number for me right now – just long enough to make the walk enjoyable, and short enough that I feel close  to all the places I want to be able to be quickly.
3. I’ve certainly saved a little money, between several hundred and a thousand dollars in gasoline expenses depending on what past year I compare it to.  The drive to work obviously didn’t use a whole lot of gas in itself, but not driving my car every day also means lower automobile maintenance costs.
4. This winter season found Richmond with more snow on the ground for longer periods of time than it’s had in recent history.  Local residents and businesses are generally not very cognizant of the impact on pedestrians when they leaving their sidewalks unshoveled; it means that people either have to walk in the street, which is dangerous, or take alternate routes, which is inconvenient.  This didn’t stop me from walking, even if I had to transport an extra pair of shoes along with me, but it’s still disappointing to see the significant resources expended on making paths clear for cars and so little attention given to keeping pedestrian walkways usable.
5. I live in an Indiana Enterprise Zone, which means that the local governments have designated it as a “distressed or blighted area” that could benefit from some economic development incentives.  What it really means is that my employer and I both get tax credits for me living there – close to a thousand dollars on my return this year -  the idea being that I’m helping to make the area less distressed and blighted.  What’s that have to do with walking to work? The goal of having a walkable, bike-able city lines up nicely with the goal of having a vibrant downtown business district surrounded by vibrant, well-established residential neighborhoods.  When we remember to plan communities around the needs of people instead of around what’s best for automobiles, we almost always inevitably also build a stronger local economy.
6. I have to recognize the relative ease with which I – a tall white male – can wander out into the streets past dusk on my walk home after a late night at the office, not thinking too much about being vulnerable or unsafe.  I know some of my downtown co-workers wouldn’t find it desirable or even acceptable to put themselves in the same position.  There are things Richmond could do to help with this – e.g. fix the streetlights that don’t work on Main St. – but there are also a broader set of cultural issues that need work before the pedestrian lifestyle is truly “safe” and normal again.  In the meantime, I’m privileged in a way that I’ll keep taking advantage of, but won’t take for granted.
7. I usually listen to music while I walk (and lately I’m listening to courses on learning Spanish).  Sometimes I don’t listen to anything and just enjoy the sounds around me.  The sounds I listen to often set my mood for the day, and can inject a burst of creative energy that stays with me as the melodies or lyrics echo around in my head.  It’s perhaps no different than listening to the stereo in the car, but dancing, tapping your fingers to a beat, absorbing a powerful verse – they’re all a little more fun when you don’t have to keep your eyes on the road.

Those are some of my experiences of getting to work.  Do you have any to share?

It’s a pretty simple exercise in the end.  Make a table of all of the things you spend time on in a week, and compare that to the total hours available.  If you’re over, then you have to change something.  If you’re at or under the available time, then you still might need to change something to be happy, e.g. increasing the amount of time available for fun, sleep, or just relaxing.  Or you may find that you spend time exactly the way you want to!

Here’s what my chart looked like, in no particular order:

When I filled out a version of this chart more than a year ago, I found that I had 184 hours/week of stuff I planned to do, 16 more hours per week than actually existed.  I made adjustments and scaled back or ended some of my time commitments, and got it down to 168 hours.  I’ve rarely found myself feeling continuously overwhelmed since (short periods of oh-no-how-will-I-do-it-all still come and go), and once in a while I update the table to see where I’m at.

Of course, it may be difficult or undesirable to commit to some firm number of hours for each activity every week, and we all know that life has an impressive way of nullifying even the best made plans.  But the exercise itself can help you see any disparity between your mental model of how you want to be spending time, and what reality might actually dictate.

How does your first column of hours add up?  Any line items that surprised you (or that I forgot!)? Which items are you going to change so that you can spend your time the way you want to?