Yea, But It's a Dry Heat

That is a phrase I learned since embarking on the Tour west. It often applies to the justification for inhabiting the desert. There seem to be all kinds of variations when it comes to desert. I haven't learned all of it. I know I am not far from there, but this is not the desert. It is technically in the middle of national forest. The trees are just extremely short. Shorter than the rocks and boulders in most, but not all, cases.

I worry about mentioning record breaking heat because those so inclined may decide this is the result of evil humans inhabiting the planet and building machines. I'm not in that camp. I think the evil humans are only responsible for record breaking cold temperatures when they occur. And for record breaking snowfall. That is all the fault of those arrogant interlopers who just landed on the planet and decided they had a right to make it their home.

Until recently the love and blind adoration for earth was hardly mentioned. Once they got organized all they wanted to do was have sex and beg for a good growing season and kids who weren't idiots. The good old days...

Fortunately much of the time today involved the teak cleaning and brightening process which requires that you spray the stuff with water, a lot. That may have kept things cooler. It was breezy enough anyway. The temp was at least 95F. It was the one time I checked what my car had to say, and it was in the shade.

I think when people have enough money they can bribe the weather gods and get little concessions like a pleasant breeze. Another of the reasons I like the environment in which I do this menial, maniacal, obsessive compulsive project. It's like boot camp, preparing me for things to come, and getting me back in the mood to attack life, one the menial level or for a billion dollars. Most likely my attack will remain in the low few figure range, but I see no reason to rule out possibility.

Project J appears almost done. It's a friggin work of art. There is still the chance I may be the only one who knows that although I was told in spanish by a housekeeper that my work is is very beautiful. I think that's what we were discussing. It was amiable at any rate, and I conversed without hemming and hawing. I surprised myself. No sentences like, "Si, el worko is mucho and los teakos no hay la easy".

Ideas are still cooking. I'd like to see if I can get some of the things rolling when I can get the time. It's a three or four pronged attack, with none of the prongs closely related.

You have no idea how hard it is not to comment on the recent conference with Obama, Hugo, and Larry Curly and Moe. Among other things in the zany world of hope and change.