Chris Stevens quotes from Northern Exposure

Chris

For that instant, he looked like his own paddle. There was a song in his heart. It crept to his lips but only the water and the wind could hear. You little traveler, you made the journey, the long journey. You now know things I have yet to know, you little traveler. You were given a name a true name in my father's lodge. Good medicine, little traveler. You are truly a paddle person." Reading from Paddle-to-the-Sea by Holling Clancy Holling

Chris

I made you, paddle person, because I had a dream. A little wooden man smiled at me. He sat in a canoe on a snowbank on this hill. Now the dream has begun to come true. “The sun spirit will look down at the snow, and the snow will melt, and the water will run downhill to the river, on down to the Great Lakes. Down again, on at last to the sea. You will go on with the water, and you will have adventures that I would like to have. But I cannot go with you because I have to stay with my father and help with the traps.” That’s Paddle to the Sea, folks. The story of a little Indian Boy who send a toy canoe on a journey that he himself is too young to take. We do the same thing you know? Pioneer, Voyager, Galileo. Our Standard-bearers in the eternal human crusade: exploration. And now we’ve hit the cosmic trail. Why? Because Earth’s played out. You know, less than a hundred years ago Amundsen could’ve been the first human being to reach the South Pole, Falcon Scott could’ve died trying. And now…well, last year, China had to close down Mount Everest. Too much litter. The world’s become a fragile place. It’s not to be conquered, it’s to be protected, coddled, nursed, like a little baby. What do we do now? We launch our surrogates into interstellar space, dreaming of that one fine day when we ourselves can go.

Chris

"In dreams begin responsibilities", so wrote the poet. So it is, perhaps. Could it be we take our dreams too lightly, those images from places unknown? Could they in fact be angels in flight; our souls aloft? You know, recent experiences have made yours truly take another pass through the metaphysical thickets. As unlikely as it may sound in this rational age, I emerged on the side of those that cannot help but put their faith in that which cannot be easily explained. Be open to your dreams, people. Embrace that distant shore. Because our mortal journey is over all too soon. "Those cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples. The great globe itself. Yea all which you inherit shall dissolve and like this insubstantial pageant faded. Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with asleep."

Chris

Recent events have set me to ponder in that ontological riddle: life, is it random or systematic? Today I opted for the systematic approach--algebraic, if you will; an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Like most human beings I'm just trying to make sense of things. I don't know if I accomplished that, I--I don't know if anybody can. You know, Isaac Newton, he thought that the universe functioned like clockwork...like a well-oiled machine. That's a comforting vision; it's neat, orderly, predictable. But it's a vision that's pretty much been shot to pieces by relativity and quantum mechanics--all the other bugaboos of 20th century physics... The universe is a weird place. We break our teeth developing theories, equations, and systems...where's it all leave us? "A system is like the tail of truth. But truth is like a lizard: it leaves its tail in your fingers and runs away knowing full well it will grow a new one in the twinkling." I don't know...what're you gonna do? Maybe next time I'll get a blockhead Harley...1340 CCs... Anybody out there lookin' to unload one, gimme a call, huh?

Chris

Who is Chris Stevens? Who are any of us? Are we one person fixed at birth or do we grow like a snow ball coming down the mountainside of life? Or can we change? Shed our skin? The caterpillar becomes the butterfly, leaving the remains of his former self behind. I look at my yearbook photo, class 81, and I wonder who that stranger is. Damn if I know, maybe that's the point, maybe we are not supposed to know, maybe that's what this earthly joyride is all about. Like Robert Frost said "We dance around the ring and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows."

Chris

They say it's an ill wind that bloweth no man to good. I think our own Dr. Joel Fleischman will attest to that. For those of you who missed it, Maggie scored a one round decision over Dr. Fleischman last night. Right jab to the old honker. Pow! T.K.O. What better sign that the coho winds are once again upon us… My advice this year, don't fight them, embrace them. Know your enemy.

Chris

I know it's short notice, but the bride-to-be is pushing for a quickie. Medical emergency. Nope, it's not what you're thinking. Anyway, I know a couple of us have been down the aisle with these people before, maybe this time, they'll make it to the altar. We'll keep our collective fingers crossed.

Chris

Maurice J. Minnifield, our generous host, friend, and employer. I'm sure I join everyone in saying thank you for these very fine eats and drinks. You are a real American. You're an ex-marine and astronaut, you are America. You're rich, you're rapacious, you're progress without a conscience, paving everything in its path. You're 5% of the earth's population, yet consuming 25% of the earth's natural resources. You pay a lot of taxes, you do a lot of charity work--most of it is tax deductible, but your heart is in the right place. One thing's for certain, you have impeccable taste in the booze.

Chris

What is it about genus arboretum that socks us in the figurative solar plexus? We see a logging truck go cruising down the road, stacked with a bunch of those fresh-cut giants, we feel like we lost a brother. Next thing you know, we're in The Brick, we're flopping money down on the bar. Wood. We're under a roof. Wood. We're walking the floors. Wood. Grabbing a pool cue. That's wood. Our friends in the forest carry a set of luggage from the mythical baggage carousel. Tree of life, tree of knowledge, family tree, Budda's Bodhi tree. Page one of life, in the beginning. Genesis 3:22. Adam and Eve. They're kicking back in the garden of Eden and boom, they get an eviction notice. Why is that? "Lest they should also take of the tree of life, eat and live forever." A definitive Yahweh no-no. Be good to yourself Cicely, go out and plant a wet one on a tree.

Chris

You know what you are Earl? You're a little, tiny, busy ant. You too, Mike. Both you guys, with your mortgages and your term life insurance and your Weber kettles. Ant. Ant. All of you, you're all a bunch of little, busy, blind ants. All you all. Saving up for your rainy days. Scratching up your acorns for the winter. You look at me and you think, "What a piece of pathetic trash out there in that leaky trailer." No spoon, no fork, no prospects. But, you know why? Cause I'm a grasshopper. Ant. Grasshopper. Ant. Grasshopper. Ant. Grasshopper. Ant. Grasshopper. Ant!

Chris

I think the saying is, "better to have tried and failed than not to have tried at all" and if they didn't say it, they should have.

Chris

Oh the snow the beautiful snow filling the sky and earth below. Over the house tops and over the streets, over the heads of people you meet. Dancing flirting skimming along. Oh the snow the beautiful snow how the flakes gather and laugh as they go. Whirling about in their maddening fun it plays in its glee with everyone. Chasing laughing hurrying by it lights on the face and sparkles the eye. And even the dogs with a bark and a bound snap at the crystals that eddy around. The town is alive and its heart in a glow to welcome the coming of beautiful snow. Bon Hiver Cicely.

Chris

It looks like a fine winter's morning out there at the 63rd latitude. Jack Frost is tagging up those window panes, hot java, english muffins, locked and loaded. The word on the street is that the Tambo-Vincour addition is due to pop out and see its shadow manana. From the safety of the womb to the bright unknown. Hey little one, you got 843 expectant aunts and uncles out here all queued up for a little koochie koochie koo.

Chris

Morning Cicely. 8:00 A.M. muchachos. Time to finish those flapjacks, knock back that second cup of joe, get ready to greet the day. Temperature's creeping towards double digits as the solar drought continues--23 days, an average of an hour and a half of sunlight every day. No relief on the horizon. Which only makes sense cause there is no horizon. Our friends at the weather service are calling for another storm and as we know, they've been batting a thousand lately. Hey, let's check our social calendar. Nothing. Total blank. It's cabin fever season people, that time of year when four walls feel like they're going to come in here and choke the spirit right out of you. Time to lock away those firearms and hang tough. No way through it except to do it.

Chris

Marriage. Why do we do it? Everybody knows the stats. One in two marriages end up in broken dishes and a trip to Tijuana. Is it loneliness? Partly. Is it teamwork? Definitely. Things just kind of go easier when there's two of you. One of you can wait in line at the movie theater while the other guy parks the car. Get better seats that way. Better room rate when it's a double. Are you ready to file jointly?...Above you is the sun and sky. Below you, the ground. Like the sun, your love should be constant, like the ground, solid. Are you both OK with that? In that case, I now pronounce you, married.