Sunday, August 30, 2009

It Always Comes Back To The Blues

I've no idea why that is. Even though I'm not really a blues player, in a technical sense. I guess I am in another sense. It's an emotional thing, when the opportunity arises, and that is real blues. It is not that great to feel it, but that is jst the way it is.

The theme carries further than playing stupid blues harmonica. I always think my limited playing ability is stupid, even though I do pretty much kick ass, and I'm no copy cat.

What it really comes back to, and this definitely has some blues to it, is what once was said about me by a close relative; "He's blablabla...IF you can get past THAT". I understand the That, and I'm not sure I can get past it. That one couldn't. I guess in the past I'd managed to cover or compensate or something.
Truthfully, I don't expect anyone to get past THAT. I can't help it. I'm not that different from anyone else except a little less involved in ways.
Anyway, it will never bother me again. And I will never be so dumb as I was the time I was monumentally dumb in the most expensive way.

Mostly I figure I will survive, despite that fact that I know damaged goods, and it r us. That is sad to me. I am pretty sure I’ll never be hitting on all cylinders because one or two are just gone. Make the best of what there is. Can’t think of a better goal. I also can’t quite figure out what that means, or how to do it.

I’m angry tonight. I was thinking of the old staff I had when I first entered the Memphis scene at the airport. What a lying stealing bunch of people, including my boss. Thieves over me, and thieves under me; liars all, and the sorriest group of workers I’ve ever seen. I guess I did do some good. At what cost to me, I wonder. I did have a few of them convinced I would only put up with so much on the job–pc policies and modern corporate double talk protects the dishonest and incompetent–so I let a few know I was ready to surprise them in the parking lot with a ball bat, and that I had nothing to lose so I did not care about consequences. I half believed it myself. Never had to do it.

That was hell.

This is not, but the THAT thing bugs me to this day. Sometimes I hate relatives and wish they would shut up.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Too Hot, Too Cold

Would there still be Santa Ana winds if Davey Crockett and those guys had won at the Alamo?

We're not actually experiencing those winds at the moment. The heat is here anyway. Geez, it is hot hot hot. A dry heat, of course, which is even worse in the land of fires and idiots who make it harder to prevent or extinguish fires. What idiots?

Let's start with threat #1---your basic "undocumented" camper, traveling by foot. Due to the fact that, contrary to popular belief, third world cultures generally see the world as their trash can, any garbage either goes into the fire or just gets left where its usefulness died. This culture also sees the world as their campsite. If it means the tiny campfire grows to the point of boiling the oceans, oh well, must be God's will. I'm not concluding anything here, except it is another case of uninvolved Americans bearing the brunt of problems caused by other elements. And the cure is usually to make it even tougher for the people who aren't the cause. Same as airport security.

Other idiots would be those who protect the environment but threatening the environment. It appears their real goal is to make life hell for humans whenever possible. So, we don't have adequate fire breaks because that might mean cutting out some protected species, which are abundant in the area. This of course means less defense against out of control fire, which means more protected species get burned out. Environmentalists are happy because there are humans who get screwed over, lose property, and if all goes well, die a horrible death.

Environmentalists, in the sense of those who spike trees and promote junk science and forest fires, appear to have as their main driving force an irrational disdain for their own species. Any time man is caused pain they are happy, or at least completely without compassion. Man eaten by bear---enviro says--bears were here first, he provoked the bear by appearing tasty. He deserved it.
I've actually heard very similar statements. IDIOTS. They are the enemy of the human race so why not treat them like any active enemy? You know, jail them, provide special diet, then after awhile let them back out to spike some more trees or bomb research scientists.

Oh, there are the corrupt energy leeches, power company monopoly people who risk people and property while pretending the opposite. That story has many tangents, like tentacles of a giant squid. So, never mind.

All this nonsense is due to the heat. I don't give a damn what happens to the environment or to those who have made the goddamn earth and it's feelings their religion. I don't care. It is hot and I want to ignore other things.

In other dimensions there is a chill wind blowing, but that does nothing to alleviate the heat. If I ever build anything it will have air conditioning. No one on the west coast thinks they need it, so they will swelter and pretend. It is somehow a matter of principle; "I live in Paradise, so I do not need AC."

There is an odd sort of stubborn streak that runs through the culture. That may be what makes it fertile ground for idealists. I mean, look, people are still clinging to the same philosophy even though they have a bankrupt state. Odd that they can't trace the path from solvency to insolvency and see that it may be in direct proportion to the implementation of their plans.

Nice people, nuts when it comes to air conditioning. I love AC. Some people do not.

Chill winds, I do not like in the figurative sense. Odd, because I often do like them in the literal sense. I expect to be riding one whenever I take my last breath. A chill wind, thousands of feet up. just flying along holding an umbrella.

People, even though I am one, scare the piss out of me. I don't know why. They just do. Better they seem, spookier they become. Almost by definition. Good thing I am not vulnerable to any of that. I'm really not. I learned how stupid it can be to be stupid, so I won't be That kind of stupid any more.
Goddamitt!!! this farging heat

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Go West, and Be Barely Legal; almost jail bait

There's no turning back now. I am officially a citizen of the land of fruits and nuts, a west coaster. I'm thinking the likelihood of ever living east of the Mississippi again is very slim. From the time I was 6, when I first visited northern CA, I never intended to remain east, yet I did for several lifetimes over a period of more years than makes sense.

The coolest thing is that California, in all their wisdom, has declared me younger than I would have guessed. By moving here, I became a few months my old self's junior. What a country!! You show up, allow the HP to abuse and make fun of you, then they say, "Hey, welcome. You are no longer 102. You are only 98!" I guess a place built by miners, criminals and whores, and made famous by surfers and Hollywood whores (be he man or woman) is bound to have some fun customs.

What a great capper to the day. Certain insights and resolutions were achieved on my pilgimage to the higher altitude sanctuary, great feelings of gratitude for the people in my life washed through me as if I am some sappy sap, and then I find out I am aging in reverse. Not only that but I am bound for another adventure to the north next week. Thank you Southwest for those getaway fares.

How could I not want to go for another visit ASAP? This is another of those windows in time which seems filled with good life. This is a very good moment.
Illegal alien no more.  Legal Alien
wow looking closely, I see they put a halo on my head. Caleeforneeya thinks I'm either a saint or an angel. What luck.

I am beginning to realize that much of my life was spent not feeling like it was OK to enjoy the moment at hand without an "if" or "but" in the inner dialog. "This is great, if it doesn't blow up and we all die". "This would be a perfect day, but it could blow up and they send me the bill, and we all die." That sort of thing.

Often it had to do with "Yea, I'm doing OK, but it would really be OK if I could just do some grandiose or half way normal thing and get this job or that money and not be a dolt any more".

No one can entertain such thinking habitually without spiraling downward, becoming chronically drunk and/or drugged, or both, and maybe worse. It takes some sicko strength to survive yourself if you set your mind toward self destruction and denial of living life. Or wacky luck. Maybe both.

I believe it is important to learn to appreciate what you have right now, and where you are. Maybe I just fell into hell so many times that all this is such a contrast that I appreciate it more. I don't think I feel the need to sabotage it. That is something it has taken me all my adult life to learn to avoid.

Obviously one doesn't feel this up for long if he is isolated and feeling lonely. I don't feel very alone, between friends and friend it seems I'm becoming emotionally whole. Who would think it possible? That's rhetorical so don't feel compelled to answer or despair that I didn't make it multiple choice.

All I know is that there is more to life than meets the eye, and a lot of what meets the eye is good.

Ted K, an example to us all

What a shame that Teddy has moved on to that gangland wonderland in the sky. Or somewhere. He was my favorite example when looking to flesh out an illustration of the corrupt, elitist, sociopathic career elected official. Who better filled the bill? Maybe they'll send another Bush along.

The idea that "we need Camelot" or any other imaginary royal dynasty in America is as idiotic as any idea ever. However I have heard people say that on TV with that tone of affected intellectualism accompanied by their best pensive furrowed brow, also an affectation.

We've really sunk low when the Lyin' of the Senate gets treated to unbelievably shameless eulogies attributing to him every virtue he did not have. To think someone who came from gangster riches, never really had a job, and did not need one, actually has a grip on normal life and is dedicated to making things better for the downtrodden, is to think blindly and falsely.

Every single move the man made was designed to solidify, if not create, a voter block. All about power. I'm sure he did something in his life that was not involved with a lie or covering a lie. I'm just not sure what.

Some think he stood for equality. I think not. For one thing, he has done as much as anyone to keep an entire group of citizens in ignorance, and believing that entitlement is the same as opportunity. The New Orleans debacle was as much due to having more faith in an all powerful government-god as it was the failure of government on every level; city, state and national. Local procedures which had been discussed and modeled in mock emergency exercises were not followed. It just went on from there. The point is, due to the tactics employed by Ted and company, people honestly thought doing nothing was their job and that the world would somehow pluck them out of the depths.

Living below sea level may have never entered anyone's mind as far as having a ready plan B in case sea level became the norm in the place. I blame Ted as much as anyone for the bizarre reaction of the people. I've live through too many hurricanes to buy the rhetoric spouted by other elitists like Sean Penn or demagogues like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton.

There's no question that the aftermath is rife with double dealing and skullduggery. But that does not change some of the elemental problems which were created by pretending to promote rights while promoting special case, ward of the state mentality. It is all about votes. Free people do not vote in a block unless it is to achieve more freedom. That is different from voting to get special treatment in various ways. When people don't know how the country is supposed to be set up they assume you just come up with ideas and can do anything without restriction. Like, "wow, solar energy is a great idea, let's subsidize it with other taxpayers' money!!". That is actually far from constitutional, in spirit.

But Ted was an icon, a lion, when it came to shredding and mauling the basis of this country. He is applauded for it by others who see nothing wrong with being in an elected office for many decades, using power and wealth to ensure that excessive duration, using power and wealth to skirt the laws against manslaughter, being a drunken miscreant, abusing the less powerful, and having no conscience. Obviously he was a great example to others who hope to remain in power until their brains fry.

Political dynasties are an abomination in this country. Our Constitution was written to avoid such abuse. It's number one purpose was to limit power of government, and of individuals who would seek to make a profession of controlling and spending the money of others. Monarchy was a dirty word.

Ted cared about your health care? Then why did he not fight to let elected officials get their own, or be subjected to the same BS he wanted to foist on the rest of us? Because it never was about you and your health. It was and is about power.

One of my Ted stories happened to a friend who was walking on a sidewalk in NYC. My friend is a small guy, maybe 5'3". Ted's limo pulled up and Ted stumbled out, oblivious to the pedestrian traffic, bulldozing into my friend. He said nothing as the body guards slammed my friend down on the hood of the car cussing him out for touching the senator. I have more of those but I think it demonstrates how much those people think of the downtrodden, or even just normal people who can't get away with murder and rape. (since Ted cared so much about polarizing based on race or ethnicity--my friend is Hispanic)

It's OK, though. We have evolved into a country run not only by a number of oligarchies forming one all powerful one, but a country controlled by elitists who truly think the rest of us cannot think for ourselves or function properly without their oversight and total control. People sucker for anything. That's the lesson in that. The worst part is that the idea that the alternative or opposite approach is to be found in the Republican party is believed by most of the citizens, and non citizen voters.

That is a big lie and a very difficult one for people to see. The only choice is not necessarily between dumb and dumber; or intrusive and rape. To think so is to play right into the trap the professional tax vampires and elitists have so cleverly set. Somehow the old team loyalty thing, and habit, as well as family allegiances tend to make it tough to face the truth and can the idea that these two evil institutions aren't both enemies of liberty and the constitutional republic.

And that is the legacy of the Lyin Liberal of the senate; proof that people will believe anything as long as you throw them a crumb or two, while picking their pockets and stealing their souls.

Don't worry that the Lyin' is gone from the senate. That Lyin spirit lives on and will be with us for a long time.

I'll miss you Ted. Few of your colleagues so clearly illustrate the abuse this country takes for granted, and which threatens our freedom, and as a result, our prosperity. Some come close, but they don't have that Camelot dynasty thing going

Monday, August 24, 2009

A Strange Life--or just a strange person living normally?

There you have it, the crux of my inner confusion. See, when you aren’t sure of the basic premise, reasoning further only leads to suspect conclusions.

Frequently I find myself in the most unusual circumstances, given the actual effort expended and likelihood of of such things. They tend to be horizon broadening and fun, and way beyond my pay grade, yet somehow quite natural. It baffles me.

Another possibility is the alien theory; either that I’m an alien who just landed here, or that they abduct me whenever the want which is plenty.

Maybe it is just a matter of contrasts. Extreme contrasts in life can make the new seem suspect, like it was just a figment of imagination. Maybe that is why I had the unpleasant cop adventure when my car was trashed–just to demonstrate how positive most interactions actually have been since I launched the Tour. Whatever the case, it is a mindblowing adventure. The styles of life, people, places and thinking I’ve stumbled into here in CA do tend to amaze me. All that serves to make me wonder how I could have ever been so darkly secluded in Memphis.

It has to be the contrast at work. I start to think that I’m not used to the socializing and respect, but given the course of the last year, it is becoming more the rule than exception. That doesn’t stop it from being surprising every time a new and unusual, horizon broadening twist of fate presents itself.

No matter how it is viewed, I still don’t get it. Although, much of it is what I consciously asked for on some level. Only I did not know exactly what it would be like in reality. How can you know what you don’t know but hope to experience?

So, it was another one of those weekends. Extraordinary. Maybe it is good I don’t have the pattern and stability I sometimes crave, or lament. It allows for enough flexibility to experience things that broaden my view of life and its possibilities. Whatever the truth, it appears that my outlook on a lot has definitely undergone some changes. I’m glad of that.

At least I was able to keep my word, which involved a frying pan. The details are unimportant, except that some non stick pans look like plain metal, but they aren’t. That can lead one to damage the coating, resulting in God only knows what.

Another area of living, I did not do as well with, but that will work out. Still, there is a degree of honor involved, and that’s what needs to be considered. Health, and nervousness, and any number of other factors could play a role, but the part about maintaining the integrity, keeping the word, that is most important.

It would take very little to convince me I’ve landed on a new planet. I hope this doesn’t mean I’m merely nuts.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

snap out of it

All things good going on and I'm wanting to fight ghosts. That is no good.
Can't say something reasonable and positive then don't say anything. I caught myself feeding the wrong things and that is not smart. I cannot afford that luxury.
So another hour and half sleep and then I'll make an early early day of it. This has been a peculiar day.

Maybe she's right about the influence of sunspots. Something is amiss and I'll be glad to put this day behind me. It was too peculiar and nothing went as planned.

The Age of Defectors

I'm not really that old, but I do realize there are huge numbers of people in this country who aren't old enough to recall the days when athletes, entertainers and pilots would seek political asylum in the USA. There were many from the USSR, and from Cuba. Just about all the communist regimes which had people locked in were greatly annoyed when citizens would escape, seeking freedom.

It has come full circle. This is no longer a place sought out on principle. It is becoming more difficult for us to leave the country now. We are slowly being locked in ourselves. In the name of security, if you want to travel abroad you are opening yourself up to a type of scrutiny which has nothing to do with whether you are a spy or a plane wrecker.

Immigrants don't stream across the border seeking freedom, dignity or because they believe in the sanctity of the individual. They come because they can get paid. They get more stuff for less work here. It is all money and often public services. How they get it does not matter. If the taxpayer covers it, fine, if it just means good jobs, fine. That is not political asylum. The main people who'd be after that are people like me, and there is nowhere that has the same guarantees against a heavy handed government we were supposed to have. It is not there.

How hard can it really be to trace almost every major problem back to government involvement, corruption, or program? It has never made sense as we watched one thing after another go from problem created by over reaching government to solution offered by even further over reaching.

If I knew of a place in the world that wasn't some insane feudal state, I'd go there. I have not found any place that sounds any freer over all. Some are free in ways we aren't but then they make up for it some other way. The least oppressive are impossible as far as relocating. Probably be a disappointment.

It just struck me that political asylum is probably a dead concept. We've got a lot of rather dim people in this country who would not know the difference if we suddenly found ourselves officially under a dictator. That leaves it wide open to any group in power who has the finesse to pull it off. All they have to do is grease the right skids. And they are.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Reactively Nuts

This would be a good description if I wasn't me but I was my shrink making notes. That is because it is easy to react as if a certain scenario is in action, even though it may or may not be. If strong evidence to the contrary is not present then visions of how repulsed others must be by my general way of being fill my mind.

At that point the decision to shut down, avoid, hide, and shroud myself in various forms of incommunicado is made. I'll leave the phone at home, the computer off, and generally be hard to find should anyone try. Most of the time no one even knows I've done that because they have something else to do besides track me down or call. So, when I return to no messages, notes, letters, etc., the foolishness and probable immaturity of my thought patterns become evident.

From there I reverse the plan, decide to be man and not mouse, be strong and get over it. What is it, I wonder. The old, "screw it" philosophy enters in. Back to the drawing board. Start with what I can control. Other people are not in that group of things. My own thoughts and attitudes for the most part are.

How could anyone be repulsed, anyway? I'm not that pushy, dirty, or otherwise difficult, I don't think. Maybe my aversion to, and distrust of, authority troubles some people. Or my desire to avoid people who lie, cheat, and/or steal. Of course, I could see how my weak frontal lobe activity would be a bit problematic at times. It has certainly plagued me and become tiring at times. I have to really make effort in order to filter what comes forth. Usually I can manage that.

When I compare myself to successful guys my age who are well integrated into the culture and our civilization, the contrast feels a bit stark. I'm not sure most of them are any more fun and I know that there are things I wouldn't change in order to be more like them, even if I could. However, there are things that separate us which I wistfully envy, for want of a better word. Good for them, they did it right. The only cure is to think in terms of now on, even though what the best path is now remains a mystery. The template is not so clear after a point. Maybe it never was.

The last year or so was predicated upon a single goal which may have been part of a larger goal; change everything and go search for home. I don't know if I am home but it is much closer than it was. Only so much dreariness is possible now. The acceptable level of isolation and self loathing has reduced dramatically.

Therefore, the level of half baked reaction based on what I imagine, but do not know, has necessarily reduced in intensity and duration as well. The entire key in my case is to have nerve and belief, and refuse to fall into overwhelming self doubt. That has been a lesson I've found hard to learn and put to work most of my life. It comes and goes. That is where the knowledge that thoughts can be controlled and directed is an essential tool of survival.
Off the subject: shame on Switzerland for agreeing to provide the IRS with any private banking info. The real crime is the IRS itself. People around the world used to admire freedom, and now we are leading the way on the road to viewing it as somehow evil. That sucks.

Back to life. It was a temptation to discuss the many initiatives which influence private lives that are elementally wrong. I've heard some very elitist analysis of people who aren't on the bandwagon lately and it is born of as much ignorance as they attribute to the other.
House cleaning has proceeded at light speed. Go faster than light and time goes backwards. Clearly, my description is stated in the most optimistic sounding terms.
I found my lost glasses again while on my way to a job many miles away to look for them. That saved a bit of travel.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Dumb as a Post

That could have many meanings in this venue.

I'm not sure if it is dimwittedness or uncertainty generated fear that causes some of my better moments; those semi catatonic instances when I am totally blank and dull, yet odd word combos are sent into the world from my vocal cords anyway.

For example--forget it, I won't detail the latest. Suffice to say a discussion of lawn mowers and weather stripping was about the last thing that made any sense in the context.

I have to write to get it out of my system. I'm timing the work day so that I have time to do what I need to do and don't get home until dark. That's the way of it. Why I am so clouded over, I am not sure. Apparently it is how this organism is wired.

I'm testing the pros and cons of a 3 day beard. Pros---it is simpler than shaving. Cons---being mostly gray, I look like the corner wino. Pro--looking like the corner wino, it wouldn't seem out of place to hit people up for a dollar outside the convenience store, or at intersections.

Conclusion---I better shave it off. Besides, when I had a non gray beard, as much fun as it can be, I missed being able to feel my face.

Pulling myself out of the fog, especially in search of enthusiasm and love of life, is an imperative, even if it is not easy. Why being fogged over and half asleep for no reason brings the spirits down, I'm not sure. It does, and it can lead to depression if I don't actively push through it. I downed a bunch of vitamins and some OJ, as well as some java. That seems to be helping.

This damned fog thing has haunted me on and off most of my adult life. There was even a time when people were seriously studying the thing. It goes a bit beyond the normal fatigue and muddiness of normal existence. Don't tell that to the arm chair neurologists I've known through the years. "Everyone feels like that". Good thing I didn't consult them that time I woke up with pneumonia. I wonder at people who are sure how everyone feels and thinks when it comes to matters which seriously impair the lives of others. They don't know.

Every time this comes over me, I notice my resentment of those I've stupidly tried to advise of the condition seems to surface. There is no simple way to frame it and I guess I only do it so they don't think it is a matter of like or dislike or an affront to be taken personally. I've discovered it is better to avoid people or just let them take things personally because the alternative always results in me thinking they think I am weak, which I probably am not.

I want to somehow not have those resentments any more. For one thing, it does nothing toward dissolving the fog, and for another, resentments are bad for your health; physical, mental, and spiritual. Better to seek to understand than to be understood. That is absolutely a key toward not being bummed out all the time. I don't even understand myself, how can I want or expect it from others? Accepted may be a different story. I'd like acceptance, even though I probably accept myself less than is prudent.

That almost covers things enough that I can clearly move forward with the day. The main thing that I think is rolling through my subconscious is the idea that I get tired of being alone but fear not being alone, even though that is really stupid. It is only when I am alone that such forces are at play. Not something to even consider purposely. Let it roll through, observe, and resist forming an opinion or fueling it one way or the other.

Where am I going to put all this stuff? There is too much to put under the bed and much of it won't fit anyway.

I've got to find a way to rent the movie Cadillac Records. I saw the beginning and it is killer. All about Chess Records, Muddy Waters and Little Walter. LW is often considered the best blues harp player ever, and he was only 17 when he got hooked up with Muddy. Just from what I saw, I could tell the music in the flick is stellar, and the cast superb.

Another time I may relay the events which led me to the discovery of the flick. It was one of those peculiar days in my life which lead me to cross paths with people in unexpected ways.

You Think I'm Strange? What about FOOD?

That's right, I find the whole food thing stranger than anything. Before I go into in depth analysis, let me give you an example of how sneaky food can be.

OK. So, I left my friends' house in the perfect part of the city this morning, with a belly full of vegetable juice--too many different ones to name; lots of green ones--and a cup of my favorite coffee; Cafe Pajaro. Parrot coffee from Trader Joe's. (just one more aside here: I would understand completely if a person relocated simply to be in close proximity to Trader Joe's. There were none near Memphis)

Continuing now, I had to be at job O in order to tour the forensic construction guy through the kitchen and explain what happened and when--long story, but it takes a tech with lots of gadgets to detect what needs detecting because the worst of it is not visible any more.

I also had to let the sound guy in to deal with the fried receiver/amp. What were they doing? King O and his conc. manage to fry a perfectly good sound system, and twist off a fancy, English made door knob--on the entrance door. I saw no blood so that rules out one scenario.

Back on point. I was having a great time discussing infra red cameras and their use for determining things in the building. All the while I was thinking of sneakier more blatantly voyeuristic possibilities, but I kept that to myself. Just thinking such things may be a grievous offense punishable in some unpleasant way. Mostly I was not too hungry, however I was thinking I need breakfast food when I get home, but I had none on hand.

I get home in the nick of time to eat a few tortillas with cheese, then bounce up the dirt road to practice with the band. They always have the best snacks. I felt like a cretin but I ate most of the snacks by myself. Real hunger was setting in and I'm trying to encourage my appetite. People I know well have been calling me names and making fun of my thinisity.

After playing I headed out to get a few breakfast food items. I can eat breakfast more readily than anything else, no matter the time of day. My hunger center was calling for some hash browns, eggs and other things like that. The potato chips were unrelated. They were on sale and sometimes I get to jonesing for them.

By the time I made it home, I had no appetite or desire for food whatsoever. Logical thought told me I probably needed to put food in the body even if I had to force feed myself. No hunger at all. I figured a few relatively empty calories might be better than nothing. I can almost always eat a few chips. So I did.

Then I was hungry again. As I was writing this I had stuff cooking in the frying pan (where else?), with the big steel bowl inverted over it to form a high tech oven of some kind. It fits that frying pan just right. Now I am eating breakfast.

That shows how sneaky food can be. All these odd things that we get excited about, almost in the Biblical sense, and we just shove it in like it is better than dope. All it does is fuel the organism. Nothing more than what coal would be to a steam engine. You don't see the old locomotives oohing and ahhing and having orgasmic reactions at the thought of coal. People and food, now we do see some action there.

Mammals in particular, but animals in general, are suckers for food. You can train them using little morsels of this or that. Do not try it with crocodiles, alligators or bears, because they are all evil and associate you with the food so if they see you without it, all they know is to eat, then you become dinner.

For such docile innocent looking stuff food has an extraordinary amount of control over living things. I believe it thinks and conspires. We are its slaves.

Awareness of this may be increasing in the collective unconscious or somewhere. That is why chefs are more and more gaining the status of rock stars. We revere those who dare to go behind enemy lines and boldly manipulate with such abandon and style. Very gutsy people, and possibly our only hope.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

The Big Crunch

Alright. Today is almost Monday and I am at an undisclosed location, spitting distance from the Pacific in one of the less hectic areas of the city. I do this a lot because, I don't know, it works out like that. Hospitable friends that are like family.

So, I have to be at rendezvous O in the resort type place where I can swim when the day is over. One of the perks of the job. I have to say, I very much like working there. I have no explanation for it except that it may involve something to do with beauty, freedom, and who knows what. It is not a status job, but who can even define my job? I can't. I be me and piddle around with things and make things better when I see the need and it is agreed. Usually, people agree.

OK. I have to be there tomorrow because there are other subs coming in to fix the broken thing that God only knows how the King and his concubine manage to break it. He is gone now and no telling when he or members of his court will return. Good thing about kings is that they often have enough money to keep people like me going, and they don't quibble. That is why I fear this talk coming from truly greedy rich people like Kennedy and Obama and others regarding "the rich" as if they are bad. Dammit, we are all better off if the rich stay rich or get richer. They spend that stuff like crazy.

The trouble is, I have only until Thursday to get my ballistic bachelor pad clean and sparkling. It is only one gigantic room, which is not that gigantic. Even so, you'd be surprised how many hours of thought meditation and despondency can go into a job like that, l;et alone the time it takes to actually perform the task. I'd say a month is barely adequate.

The problem was made a little worse when the blue car bit the dust. It was heavily loaded, I now realize, with tools, buckets full of secret teak techno things, and numerous heavy drop cloths and tarps. I heart heavy cotton canvas drop cloths.

Now my house is full of all those things, boxes, etc., plus dust dirt, blood stains I probably missed as I walked around bleeding on the floor and did not know it for awhile. A lot of it has glass bits from the wreck. Every time I move something I find bits of glass from my dearly departed car that was my favorite car of all time. Even more favorite than the '69 Datsun 1600 roadster which transported me from life in Florida to a new world in North Carolina. One should not love things. But a good car that suits you is a pleasure.

Oh boy, clean the stupid house and I have never cleaned the windows or blinds. I should do it because they may have accumulated some dust, considering that dust is the number one element in those hills. Then I have to think about washing clothes.

The lengths to which a crazy guy will go, just so a possible visitor doesn't think he is the slacker he is, well it is something. I'm just glad I actually give a damn. I'd shut off a part of myself for so long, I was almost worried. Not that worried. Not as worried as the thought of cleaning house makes me.

I'll probably get it done on Thursday, then Friday I will have a clear conscience. Due to the nature of things, no telling if the visiting dignitary will even get out there. I'll be the chauffeur so I guess kidnapping is an option. Another adventure.

When you think about it, things are good. I have a house to clean up, a visiting dignitary who just might want to go there and check out my didgeridoo, and I have no idea how the visit will unfold anyway due to all the myriad of factors. That is often the case with VIPs. Probably better, in my case, not to have advance notice of a set itinerary. That sort of structure would really make me nervous.

I'm almost official. All I'm waiting for is Ahnold to mail me my regular driver's license. In the mean time, I am driving on a paper that is temporary something or other. When it arrives I'll start calling everyone "Dude" and become very concerned about the earth and people smoking in public parks and such.

Change I can Believe In; at the Crossroads

Nothing any thug politician can promise, other than staying out of my life and everyone else's, could possibly qualify. Change I can believe in has to do with things internal as well as my attitude toward, and manifestation of, things external. It is not what others do but how I respond inside and out. That came to mind because some things that have happened lately would have consumed me more in the past. El Cajon Highway Patrol lying would be one of those. I'll go on with life, and simultaneously deal with the matter, rather than being eaten up by it night and day, as I dream of lightening striking them repeatedly. Or worse, much worse. I've got better stuff to fill my dreams.

Other things come to mind as well. I try to keep in mind that much younger people haven't had some of the experience and opportunity for repetitive trial and error, or just error and error, that I have. Forgetting the road along the way to the point that you can't empathize or comprehend the obsession with the stupid, self defeating, and unimportant which plagues most people from about age 10 to maybe 46.5, on average, is something I try not to do.

Since the truth of me is actually an expreme exaggeration of such misguidedness for a great many years, even beyond age 46.5, I feel it a matter of integrity and compassion to understand and appreciate others who have some shred of the idiocy I had at their age. Not to say I was an idiot in all ways, I was not. However that little disclaimer does bring me to the point that accepting the truth and allowing others to discover for themselves, somehow is tied to self esteem.

Highly controlling people have a curious insecurity I think; a tenuous hold, at best, on positive self image. Either that or they honestly think in ways only sociopaths, and government officials think.

Elitism, in that sense-- the sense we see unfolding in cities, states, the UN and in DC---actually could be argued as a form of sociopathy. If you believe you know best for the little unimportant masses, and that it is your job to control and dictate who sacrifices what and when, then you are obviously oblivious to the pain of those people, and have no remorse resulting from causing them harm.

That is because an elitist does not view all mankind as having equal right to make their own decisions within the framework of not screwing up the rights of others. Therefore, the masses aren't real people like, say Nancy Pelosi, but useful idiots whose existence is best described as a privilege granted by their betters.

You may think this has nothing to do with compassionate understanding when observing young punk kids trying to find life after public school, destructive TV, and the stupid wrong opinions and theories of their friends. I think it has everything to do with it.

To recognize the natural evolution life allows one if he is lucky is one thing. But to also have the gift of being aware of the larger forces at play and the changes they have brought in our lives, as well as the extreme influence they've had on the world view of younger people, paints a rather clearer picture. It s hard to fault someone for not knowing things when they've been lied to about those things or had no exposure at all.

Whether crimes against children have really gone up exponentially since the fifties and sixties, I do not know. I do know the actual freedom and autonomy of children has decreased exponentially since then. Of course, in some areas, young kids do drugs, so what the hell. I would still argue that the laws, programs and police priorities tend to promote that sort of thing when it could have and should have been squashed early on.

No, it was (and is) easier to just scream "DRUGS", and spend the seventies arresting potheads who didn't bother with kids or guns or anything else. Another case of left and right working hand in hand.

The left promoted demeaning programs to create lifelong dependence and ignore reality, and insisted a slimeball's actions were everyone else's fault, and the right went gung ho, happy for an arrest, even if the real problems were being ignored, and the real bad elements left to grow.

Just like now. Everyone is told who to view as the enemy, and the dumbasses are buying it. And the 20 year olds and even 30 year olds have no concept what it was like before free speech became the extremely dangerous exercise it is becoming. Unless they had a rare teacher along the way, they probably have no clue what it really means, or what the term "rights" actually means. Hell most of the people of all ages are clueless about that, but the baby boomers on up have no excuse but their own weak integrity.

Whatever goes on in that realm, I do have sympathy for kids who worry that their choice of the moment is somehow forever, or who wonder what it is they should be doing. The lucky ones see the path and just stick to it. Maybe it takes both types for the world to turn. The less certain probably have wilder dreams and when they are lucky, their nerve and faith are up to the task of chasing the dream in earnest. That situation is not confined to any age bracket.

That's the good thing about dreams, time is nothing, and no one, yet, can say you are not allowed to dream if you are a certain age. Never too young, and never too old. Most dreamers don't dream of health care, I'm betting. They just don't, unless they are in need or need a cure as yet undiscovered. It takes a dreamer to find the cure, and most cures are found by people who never had the disease.

Something about that which I don't think most people get. That's why I bring these things up.

And because I want to keep saying this country has undergone a coup while I can still do so without being arrested. It has and it started long ago, but no question about it, Obama has taken it to a new level; he and his gang behind the scenes. The man is as owned as anyone prior. Just the way it is.

It takes a special kind of person to so happily fill that role. It is one of the enduring themes of literature; the deal with the devil, selling one's soul, or personal integrity, for glory, vanity, riches, etc. Happens every day. Only time it worked out well for the rest of us was when Robert Johnson got his musical mojo at the Crossroads. I've been to that very spot, and not so far from midnight, either. Since the specific spot is mildly debated, I tried to find all the possible ones. I think I was at the exact one--got my reasons for thinking so...

You just never know, do you?

Friday, August 14, 2009

Not Just A good Idea--It's the LAW

The first time I saw that catchy totalitarian sentiment in black and white was on a large poster in the NC DMV office when I was getting my first NC driver's license. They were referring to the ridiculous 55 speed limit the reactionary idiots had placed on the whole country at the time. The resulting impact to the economy was not good because it slowed the flow of goods.

The thought that good idea or no, It's The LAW is someone's idea of a reasonable argument, and that they have power, makes me shudder.

So, today I did what I had to do--I went in to the CA dmv to become an official resident with CA driver's license. What a zoo, and I went to Poway due to my ever growing aversion to all things official in El Cajon, where the nearest office seethes and bubbles.

Since there is a wait of a few hours, I thought I'd pick up one of the books off the shelf to review. There were hundreds of California driving license books on multiple shelves. Not a single one was in English. They had plenty in Spanish and in some Arabic language, and Asian languages. I'm guessing at all but Spanish. That is what the writing appeared to be. I didn't even see German or French. Very weird.

As it turns out, I passed the eye test without my glasses which is a good thing since I lose them from time to time, and forget them regularly. I scored 100% on the quiz which was a surprise. The wording of the questions and answers often seems awkward and peculiarly stated. I concluded as I was deciphering the jargon that the test had been written by someone whose first language was not English. The phrasing sounded like that of someone whose original tongue was Spanish or maybe French. One of those european jobs.

Possibly to be sure I live where I live, they mail the final thing and give me a temporary paper in the mean time. I kept the TN license but they punched a hole in it.

As much as I despise the ways of the state and the 1984 (the book) tone of the their offices, especially dmv, I did not grind my teeth or get angry. I'm getting better.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Look, I Really Played into a Microphone

Just for the sake of vanity, I guess, I thought I'd post a picture from that gig in the canyon a few weeks ago. (And to prove I actually was in front of a mic) It is the one that only groups and solo musicians attended. So many people played that only 2 tunes per act were permitted, except us. They had us play four. Partly because we played relatively early in the line up, but also because they asked us for more. There were some later groups that sounded really good. We just happened to play better than ever before that day.

So, someone took pictures and among them was this one. I look like I'm in disguise so it is OK.

So many things to address, I don't know where to start. It is hard not to address the big picture and the rapid move toward fascism but I'll wait until more strata of the population begin to feel the pinch. As it is, too many are not affected so it only sounds like rebellious nonsense to them.

There are times when I still yearn for a roadtrip, but I promised myself not to go it alone unless I gave it more time and had given up ever traveling other than solo. I made that inward vow while at the Grand Canyon on last year's big adventure. It was a Big Adventure, too, but I wasn't looking for my bike and I did not dance on the bar to Tequila. Pee Wee Herman really got a bad deal. I think it was a shame and I have far more contempt for the cop involved and the people who probably set the whole thing up.
But I was crying for Martha to be acquitted and, later, freed. Kennedy, I had less sympathy for. After all he lied and his first instinct was to cover his ass, not worry about drowning a girl.

What happens when these people visit the places where I work, is that I can't work until they leave. I miss it. They aren't there that much and when certain people visit, they break things you would never guess, and no one knows how they do it. That is good because it often means work=$ for me. And the setting is idyllic.

Please remind me not to get complacent because I have to push some other independent efforts forward and make more money so I can spend it all on those who might enjoy it. Besides, any cushion against bad times is quite useful to have. Got to keep the roof over head and such. Few places are around for this kind of rent, and certainly not as nice or with such a view.
I need reminding that this is not a typical monthly income requirement I live.

That's OK. Not to stress, but don't let me forget.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Pollyanna, or Sunshine Superman?

****the following may contain subliminal messages****
(no need to look for those because if you find them, then they aren't subliminal, they are obvious or whatever the opposite is)
++++Of course I could be making all that up++++or not

So, there I am listening to HER call me Pollyanna. OK. I owned up. Anger and frustration can lead to obsessive resentment and the cells of the body will react by turning on me. If it takes being Pollyanna to avoid that and the resultant dark days and bad result, then sign me up.

Those of us with a glimmer of foresight often look stupid until the tale unfolds a bit further. I have faith, and when I don't I try to regain it. That got me out of Memphis, into the fold of caring friends and led to some fascinating and pleasant experiences. Life is better. Memphis is really a euphemism for my own self made hell. Well, yea, OK, I guess it was self made, so no need to cast stones.

Anyway, my expert friend informs me I have more recourse and good arguments to pursue the liability matter with good chance of the right result. A bogus, dishonest and clearly tainted HP report is not the end all in this game. I'm glad I did what I could to try to let the anger go away, although it still is a bit sickening to think how many people are unjustly inconvenienced by authorities on a daily basis.

If a company can make another pay thousands of dollars, merely by doing a little investigation, then perhaps we can yet prevail. How lucky is it that I happen to play music with someone who knows the business, and the laws which apply to it? Good thing, because all I could think of was how unfortunate that I wasn't clearly able to nail these guys for prejudice, disrespect, lying and attempted humiliation. They'll get theirs. Those who have assaulted me with unreasonable authority or dishonesty in the past have all reaped what they sowed, and I did nothing. Life somehow handled it, if I kept my cool.

As long as there are steps to take, as much as I don't enjoy dealing with it, I can feel positive and like I'm doing the right thing while gaining some education. The education seems to cover multiple levels of existence in some cases.

Like the Sunshine super, I could have tripped out easy, but I'm changing my ways.

As much as anything, I do not enjoy preoccupation with these little dramas and setbacks. My anger is no fun for me or anyone around me. The logistics of positive action, rescuing myself in this game of chess, do interest me, and I enjoy it when I can see possibilities with proper outcomes. I like stories with happy endings, especially if I am one of the main characters. Sometimes you think you know the best plot line, but more than not, the best course is different than anticipated and the only influence one really has is to keep a good attitude and a pure heart.

There we go with that Pollyanna thing again. Truth is like that, very uncool if you don't really understand cool. Or the fact that there is more to life than meets the eye, and once in awhile you get a glimpse of things you can't describe or explain. Yet you understand it anyway. That is not really as meaningless a concept as it may sound to the uninitiated.

I have a feeling that the next few weeks or so will be full of surprises. I hope they are good. Right now so many things fall into the "I don't know" category that I feel as if I'm on a new planet. I know some of how I will earn rent, and some of what may come but far less than usual, which is not a whole lot. That is what makes my most mundane of days an adventure if I choose to ride it out with the good attitude, and a pure heart.

CA HP of El Cajon are still morons, but that's just the way it is--an obstacle to be avoided. Bump in the road and all that.

El Cajon, CA H.P.:idiocy of the Right and Left in action

Most of what has been presented as debate on issues in this country for the last fifty or a hundred years has been couched on either side with false premises. The most glaring of which would be that the activity being discussed is rightly the business of government in a free, constitutionally limited republic.

Just that description is too complex for most people to follow, especially since they are taught bizarre concepts about democracy, and a worship of the word without analysis.

I'm mad enough right now to jump off the mountain. Frustrated and angry.

The police report from the demise of the Blue Subaru finally reached completion. The officers who were at the scene playing bully and jokester, rather than allowing me to explain what happened or using their own eyes and brains to properly assess the situation, not only lied blatantly regarding my statements, and other matters, but they still listed the wrong point of impact and made up a few extra erroneous details.

If only I were of certain ethnic groups. I would be sure it was racial and I would go to the ACLU and others to fry these bastards. I'm fairly certain that the fac t I had TN plates and license tainted the issue. The were just ignorant enough and small minded enough to assume I was a backwoods hick, and that playing bully would be a blast. The second part they managed, to a point.

I'll find out how to dispute this, but it may not be easy. Idiots in this country have given over so much power to the police and to the state that truth and the obvious mean nothing. Idiotic right wing voices still go around praising the boys in blue as if their job is actually to deter violent crimes and keep good people safe so they can enjoy freedom. It is not, and they are not encouraged to protect the good from the bad. They are encouraged to exert control and to pick your pocket when possible.

The big myth is that they only harass Mexicans, Blacks, and the like. I know they do that, but the real line of demarkation is not racial, it is power. They harass whomever they think cannot or will not fight back. The idea that if you are behaving yourself and following the dumbass rules exempts you is, at best, overly optimistic.

Not all cops are that way, but what do you expect when such power is given and an individual is guilty before proving innocence? And how can you fight them when they lie and cover for one another? Too much power, too many laws, and a very bad management model which is based on an "us vs them" mentality can turn a marginally good cop into a sadistic bastard. I've witnessed the transformation myself in friends who took that job.

On one side you have these idiots who want to fine you for breathing because you put out CO2, and on the other idiots who think because someone in uniform is doing it, then he is right noble and the cause, war or beating with the night stick must be for the good country. Morons. Abuse of citizens and heavy handed police tactics are an abomination whether instigated by draconian social nonsense, a la Obama, or insane wars, a la Kennedy, Johnson, or Bush1&2. Admittedly, they are abusing the military in many cases and those people are sworn to obey and protect the Constitution. It poses a real dilemma for the most erudite and dedicated because most of the last many wars were in no way really protecting country or constitution. The right wants to pretend otherwise because the idiots on the left focussed so much hate against the military itself in years past. Neither is honestly concerned with how a free people should be able to live. It is sick.

Anyway, now I find out that the El Cajon, California Highway Patrol group has a reputation for being complete morons and never miss a chance to be a pain in the ass. Why I had to find out first hand, I do not know.

The thing that is both frustrating and scary is that they can lie, be as abrasive or abusive as they like, and you are at their mercy. It goes on everywhere, to be sure; some places more than others. But it is wrong and never should have been allowed to evolve to this point. Police states suck. Hasn't anyone ever seen the old WW2 movies and old films about life in Nazi Germany? Let alone the USSR. We are there and have been from one angle or another for a long time.

We gave up rights regarding being detained, searched, etc. in the name of the war on drugs, then the war on terror. Both are pretty much bullshit as far as actual efforts to deal with those matters. Much more zeal goes toward controlling and harassing innocent citizens than into stopping drug gangs or eliminating lunatic terrorists. But you always have the moron who claims he doesn't mind because he has nothing to hide. Wait until it hits home and he is the victim of lying police or insane government regs.

I'm pissed. They lied outright and got the report all wrong. Not a matter of opinion. Lies are lies. I'm pissed at all those who welcomed the police state with open arms. That includes the blind rightists who think anything with a flag on it is ok and that makes you patriotic, as well as the dumbass leftists who think they know best how everyone should live their lives, raise their children, and what car you should drive. Neither group believes in live and let live to the greatest possible peaceful extent. No, you gotta wear a goddamed helmet or something, or God forbid don't even dream of not having that baby. IDIOTS.

The only way life works is when you accept the limit that you have to let others take actions you may not agree with, but to do otherwise opens the door for your own choices to be dictated to you. Neither so-called side gets it. They are the same. They only believe in limits when it suits them. No comprehension of guiding principles. And it makes me sick. I'm thinking a hollow tree that is miles from everywhere may be about all that's left. Of course you have figure a way to make campfires without smoke because they'll come in helicopters and charge offsets or find other ways to ruin your day.

I've had it. You can keep your Pelosis Obamas Bushs Cheneys Kennedys Bidens Reids, etc. Don't get me going on Arnold. In the past I thought it a low blow to talk of his forebears having some nazi connection. Now, like all hard core socialists I see he is in lockstep with our modern version of that philosophy. People don't comprehend how nazis and USSR communists, too, belched speeches of compromise and sacrifice and the better good, while screwing people over. People forget how popular Hitler, Stalin, and others were. The true ugliness was no so apparent until it was too late--at least for the millions and millions killed or made miserable by such states.

The trick is to make sure most people are not too uncomfortable while they are being sold into slavery. That way they go willingly, looking at people like me as lunatic rabble rousers and trouble makers. It's the old slow boil of the frog syndrome.

Damned I am pissed

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Good Fear, Bad Fear

Some of the best things in life are accompanied by a little dose of fear. It is what makes it exciting and releases all those chemicals and hormones inside. The electric eye lock, anticipation before a performance, getting the job, etc.

If that is true then the assertion that all we have to fear is fear itself, is not entirely true. Of course one with my views would have tended to fear the power of the man speaking more than the fear to which he was referring.

Bad fear, now, that is a horse of a different color. That's the stuff that drags you down if left unchecked. It is an interesting twist how fear of the unknown can be channeled into the good or the bad category depending upon how neurotic a person is. I know people who can turn finding a pot of gold into another example of how the universe is abusive.

There are times when I think I am oblivious to certain fears I ought to indulge. I know I have knee jerk reaction which are borne of fears that aren't to be indulged and which are kind of silly. Going to a stranger's house for dinner is a biggie. I'll know someone who is on the inside track with the people, that person invites me, and then I freak. I'm getting better but the first reaction is flight; flee for your life!

That one would surprise even my family. My brother has the idea that I am comfortable in all social circumstances with all people. Surprising considering my time in hermetically sealed hermitdom. When you are incommunicado for long periods, people get to write whatever script they choose, if they are inclined to account for your time.

Fear of returning to dark times and super isolation is a good fear, as long as you don't overdo it.

What a remarkable year and some. Today is absolutely perfect here on Ballistic Mountain. Light breeze, maybe 70F, pale blue sky, just incredible. Just a hint of something in the air. If I were back east, down south, I'd be sure it was the first breath of autumn. There is always a day toward the end of summer when you get that first little breath, then it continues to be summer for another month, but not as hot as before, in general. This feels a lot like that but I know the climate is different and we'll have some hot days to come in Sept.

Another turn of events found me at a front row table for the San Diego pops symphony doing a show last night. It had a Broadway theme. What a surprise. The singers that were featured were unbelievable. They are hotshots on Broadway and I can see why. Not many cities could have such an event under the stars on the waterfront at the edge of downtown. If the weather didn't screw it up, the ignorant sub human citizens would. Sorry, but I've lived too many places where the riffraff abounds and they have only outward resemblance to anything human. Their minds are something less noble.

You find a few cities out west which have the ability to conduct nice events without much trouble. I like the Caribbean as far as thoughts of hitting islands and the look of the water, but I like the Pacific coast for a place to be. I'm still pinching myself to be sure I'm really here, and happy. The abundance of misguided greenery and laws are scary, but even with that there is more freedom in some ways.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Must Be the Season of the Witch, again

I mean that in the most positive possible sense.

It is just that so many changes are in the air, some I can identify, and some I only sense. When things change with my friends, they influence my life. That is new, and I'm all for it. Often that leaves a space for me to fill which somehow serves a good purpose for them. When the status quo gets shaken, it is always accompanied by a tinge of fear of the unknown, even if excitement over leaving a negative aspect behind is there too.

I'm soon to become an official card carrying Californian, which is no real big deal, but it has connotations. West is where I am now, and with both feet. No more keeping one toe in TN, just in case. At my age many people think nothing is new and they are able to glide on, resting on the fruits of there continual efforts and such of the past. My life did not work out that way.

I'm beginning to wonder if it really was possible for it to have been secure and solid and filled with an abundance of offspring as I had hoped. Turning point after turning point keeps appearing in the path. The relief is that more and more I can worry about things in other people's lives instead of just hanging in my own vacuum. One thing I have plenty of is "me time". Some people crave that. Be careful what you wish for. At least set some conditions or you might find yourself in solitary confinement.

If I were to try to tell my own future, I guess I would have to be vague and say there may be a bit of travel involved, and government work is unlikely.

How It Feels to Play

Now I remember the only reason I ever started playing with bands, or at all. It was purely an effort to release something that I have never been able to release, or express. It comes and goes, that unquantifiable thing. I guess it is some sort of inner scream wanting to affirm existence. Crazy.

Most likely that is one scream that will never be heard.

When it doesn't matter, it seems to go away rather than burn.

I used to feel like I'd just explode into bloody bits if I couldn't let that scream out.

Playing was usually a physical thing, tied more to how it felt than how it sounded, although if I am not in the right key or those I'm playing with are out of tune, even one string, I can't do it.

Given that I was never able to spontaneously combust, there were moments when it was almost like an out of body experience in which I was hearing what I played as if I was standing or floating outside of myself. The playing would just happen as I rode some wave completely independent of the mechanics of making the sounds. That hasn't happened in awhile. I know the missing ingredient which seems to enable floating through the air on the melody but it is not something you can buy.

Either it comes to you or not.

That state of being I described is always what is being chased, and the hope of experiencing it, and hopefully with an audience of millions, is the main reason I bother. I honestly do not understand it, but that's how it feels.

I think I'll shut up for awhile.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

That Terrible Thing Known as THE MIND

It is better to argue with one's mind than to let it go where angels fear to tread. Angels know what they are doing. And I know what happens when the mind has its own way. Calming that baby down is an art. If anyone can do it I can. After all, it is my mind. Nominally, in any case.

I can't help but wonder. Indulging the wonder should be reigned in to a moderate level. That I can do.

Why is it that when things are relatively far better than at points in the recent past I find myself thinking I should not believe it? Probably because everything in my life hangs precariously. Security is not my strongest asset, in a worldly sense, anyway.
Then again, if it is OK at this moment--it being life--it is only logical to accept it as is and forget what I don't and can't know. Maybe you get back what you put out, and keeping the good stuff going out is the thing to do. That is controllable.

Emotionally Speaking

Emotions can be a pain. They can wash over you, leaving you high and silly, but then what? What a pain. I like to know what to do with stuff. Feelings are for chicks and talk show hosts. Tough guys like me don't need feelings.

How do I feel? Who gives a damn? If I start delving into that, it can only lead to trouble. Passion and not much else are all you need. Whatever it is that enables one to prevail against great odds is good.

Yet, I tend to wax sentimental these days because of the fortunate things in my life. Both from the standpoint of how things happen but also who is involved. That's part of breaking away from long term isolation and a dirth of friendship. I do not blame that totally on the people that were around at the time, but I did notice that many of them urged me toward things which would clearly be to my detriment. So, I isolated the majority of the time and tried to work from the inside out to either dissolve, or discover the cause, of the self defeating feelings and actions.

Maybe a little of both was accomplished. There are things in life that take forever to get absolutely right. Progress is good enough.

One thing that hits an emotional nerve is the talk of continuing the buyout of clunkers by the government.

It never ceases to amaze me how people, who have no idea what it is like to be broke and trying to get on your feet, claim to be helping the poor and downtrodden while they are pulling the rug out from under them.

They are using tax money to get affordable, disposable cars off the market. They end up in the shredder. It is allegedly a green initiative. The result is denying those of no means a means of mobility.

Encouraging debt if the person is lucky enough to qualify is another aspect of this. It is so far outside the realm of constitutional limits originally placed on the federal government that I cannot believe it is happening.

Most of what is happening is being railroaded through on some cult of personality with principle and ultimate freedom getting crushed. We have been under the grip of an oligarchy, at best, and outright dictatorship, at worst. It is abundantly clear to anyone who is not taken in by the wish to worship rock stars, or any other human being.

It is far from clear to those who enjoy the aspect of the cult hero and those who simply rebel against most of the voices of the alleged opposition. Sometimes I wish Republicans would shut up because they are so bad at reasonably stating opposition to the prevailing powers, and they invariably lose sight of pure principle themselves. That leaves people thinking you have to pick cool guy tyranny or doltish half truths. Too bad.

Opposition to what is happening is encouraging. The idea that it gets attached to the Bush idea of government is a shame. I opposed Bush on some things, particularly the creation of Homeland Security. It is not what makes us safer, unless you consider caging and corralling innocent citizens a good idea. I'm speaking in a broad sense there, not about the camps some claim exist---I have no clue if those do or don't exist.

I get emotional over the continued assault on free thought and free speech. Shades of early Cuba under Castro and Che are too evident for comfort.

Mostly I get emotional when I see how life has smiled on me the past year or so. Despite all, I have experienced friendships and activities beyond any hopes or expectations. I feel like friggin Polliana. How did that chick spell her name, anyway?

Monday, August 3, 2009

YES!!! There is a God!! or something

The latest adventure which took in Vegas, of all places (you can have a great time there without gambling a dime if you know where to go) and a point north was as surreal and amazing as I could stand. These are most definitely the good old days.

My nephews figured in, briefly, to this excursion, and they seemed as happy and together as I've seen them. N2 was especially at his best ever, think. That is saying a lot because in the past I somewhat envied the balance and solidity that both seemed to possess in a quantity I'm not sure I'd ever achieved. And they were and are merely young punk, runny nosed kids, relatively speaking.

At the age of N1, I was recovering from two or three car wrecks in fewer month's time, found myself with no roof of my own begging a couch at the home for wayward musicians, and my mode of transport was my two tired feet. To see them building good relationships with nice women, in which mutual respect seems apparent, as well as doing OK on the financial front is a joy to me. One of us in my family per couple of generations is plenty enough to travel the sort of path I stumbled down.

I hope when they reach my age that they feel as content and happy as I do today. The future is uncertain, of course. Otherwise it wouldn't really be the future. Right now is quite an extraordinary thing. I just feel fortunate and I don't feel the need to place conditions on that feeling.

If I could explain the part of this adventure which entailed the northern-most exposure to myself, I might put it down here. All I know will be one of those landmarks by which I measure time and file memories. Some things defy explanation. It may be that certain experiences are of a nature which touch a part of the spirit too far inside to be verbalized or quantified. Efforts to do so just screw it up.

I will say that everyone from the two Ns to new people I met struck me as delightfully extraordinary, and my life was awash with one pleasant surprise after another. It is quite a gift when I come out the other side feeling like being me is OK, and I needn't lament the fact that I couldn't change the essence of that even if I tired.

That lament does sometimes haunt me. Not that I want to be what I'm not, just that I sometimes wonder if that dooms me to a destiny which precludes aspects that I'd rather it include. Regardless of what is down the road, I believe now that I am not doomed to that unless I chose to be.

On a musical note, I saw my favorite jazz harp player do a good show which included some spontaneous jamming. He pulled another harmonica wizard on stage and they blended like harp payers never do. usually when two or more harp players jam it is worse than listening to ice cream truck music. That is actually some version of affected CALLIOPE music.

Calliope was my new word for the weekend. I had no idea what it was but some smartass threw it out in a sentence as if any fool would know. Not to wane too far into the negative, but calliope music sucks. Apparently it was originally produced with steam passing through variously pitch train whistles. If that won't scare the cows off the track, nothing will.

So, what did I learn this trip?
That the ice cream truck music I despise is canned calliope music, that the Brick is a pretty cool tavern, that I have a good shot of thriving among the living, that I need supervision to properly tie my shoes or tape tin foil around a T shirt, and that there is sometimes blissful mercy on me from the powers that be.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


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