Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Tales From The Neighborhood

I decided not to say "'hood" because I am sick of pretending hiphop racists are anything different than the most obnoxious rednecks. Same damned thing: violence is OK and glorified for no good purpose. Women are viewed psychotically, and anyone not just like them is free game--the enemy.

OK. That wasn't the point. I'm reacting, which is what people putting out news want. Why, I do not know. I know much of it is pure fiction. I believe a lot of people are creating or fabricating various incidents, primarily undocumented, in order to class any dissenter as an enemy of the people. We are experiencing what early stages of many totalitarian regimes experienced. It did not happen over night. Those who blindly thought "my country, right or wrong" and went along with all the baby steps for the last 80 years, or more, can't feign sudden surprise with any sympathy from me. They have been as afraid of freedom as any career politician.

In the mean time, while I wait for people to figure it out, I am living lucky.

The flowers were bright hot pinkish purple in front of my cottage but the picture hardly shows them. This is a pretty place, especially the last couple of days.
The geography of a place is a big deal. Looks like this month's rent will be paid on time, again. Not a bad gig when I look at it objectively. Lots of people have drama out the yazoo. I have to say, my life is not very dramatic. Few conflicts other than the perpetual internal ones. Even those are losing steam.



The hang gliding friend told me of a launch site east of here. He said the road used to only be accessible by four wheel drive vehicles. I think he meant all-terrain military vehicles. My car made it fine, but it is a beloved Subaru. Other cars I've had, for the most part would have had trouble. I was surprised this car had enough clearance. It is a wild several miles of dirt switchbacks. I want to go there on a weekend when people are flying off of there. My friend said he and his wife used to fly from there a lot. They were instrumental in getting the road upgraded to the quality it is today. They must have used mules to get up there in the early days of this site.


These are phone pics and maybe lose a little in detail, but you get the idea. That's what some call "the eight" down there. That's Californian for highway 8 or I-8. People have managed to soar to Yuma from this place.

Oh, and there's a bit of the hood of the tour mobile number 2. Number one met an untimely death last summer. July, I think. You can probably sense from its expression that it is chomping at the bit for a massive road trip.

1 comment:

  1. Where are the clouds? I don't see any clouds? (panicking...)

    ReplyDelete

Can't make comments any easier, I don't think. People are having trouble--google tries to kidnap them. I'll loosen up one more thing and let's see. Please give it a try

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

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