Privileged

Just a pic from the movie site thejourneythemovie.com

There are lots of movies titled "The Journey".  This is not the one about the Indian lesbians, their trials, tribulations, and forbidden love.  Although that does sound like a must see. 

More on The Journey I'm reviewing a little later on the page.

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The term "under privileged" begins to take on new meaning when you think of all the licenses and permits there are for the various aspects of conducting a life.   If passing the test and getting a license to drive is a privilege, not a right, then I assume every licensable activity is a privilege, not a right.  

Did you know that you have to have a license to own a cat or dog in some towns?   Actually the cat or dog has to have the license, similar to the plates on your car, I think.  Owning a cat is a privilege, not a right.   And this is separate from being sure the animal has shots and all that.  At least one vet who performed all those tasks then reported the owner for not having a creature license.   

This probably makes sense to plenty of people, and they might lecture me about how that $70.00 fee goes toward animal control or maybe lawyers who sue humans on behalf of other living things.   Once again we disagree in principle.  

So, wanting to be even more privileged than I already am, I set out to get my library privileges here in the best of southern California.   I presented my case to the local library in the town northeast of me.   Very small town.  There is a school, a feed and saddle store, a sort of general store, and the pizza and other food diner.  And the library.  Very small but their computers were all being used.  They have about six of those.  I was impressed.  

It all went without a hitch so I checked the shelves and found a book and a movie.  The movie is an indie film which I highly recommend.  It claims to be in the tradition of Motorcycle diaries and Y Tu Mama Tambien.  I am no fan of Motorcycle Diaries, being a bit more sympathetic toward those Cubans who did not deserve Che's firing squads than I am toward Che, or Fidel.   

This film, The Journey, is not supposed to be about any historical figure or T shirt icon.  It is simply a good story, with better directing, and much better acting than the Motorcycle Diaries.  Much more real without trying, even though some was anything but realistic. 

It was directed by Scott Marcano, who also co-wrote the story.  This film makes me want to see what else he has out there.   Andres Londono and Kazandra Santana do well in the lead roles as do the supporting players.  The soundtrack is not bad at all.   I'm a sucker for most films set in Mexico with a Latin soundtrack.  This one begins in Orange County, near Los Angeles, with the last 7/8 of the flick occurring in Mexico.  

I know that due to Motorcylce Diaries fame and misguided praise, they think it will pique interest by categorizing this independent flick as being in that tradition, but to me that is like marketing Renoir as being in the tradition of the guy who paints tigers on black velvet.

So, I got a license to read and watch movies for free.  Not owning a pet, I figure maybe they charge pet fees that pay for the library, who knows?  I am not sure they put license plates on animals yet in CA.  There is absolutely no way to keep up with the various rules and peculiarities.  The license to be a cat thing came to my attention when being told of a story set in a Wisconsin town.  

Strange how places settled by very independent people who did not to be told what to do eventually became insane "What if" nanny states.  What if you fall of your bike on your head?, etc.

Now that is appears I may not be overdrafted at the bank, I am able to notice the cool setting in which I live.  It was all new and somewhat out of my dreams.  I can hardly imagine living in a place with no mountains and hills and curvy roads which drop hundreds of feet on one side, while hugging the side of the hill on the other.   And no large body of water nearby.  

In this case, we have about the largest body of water found anywhere, the Pacific Ocean.  I'm still somewhat fonder of the Caribbean as far as oceanic locales, but ocean is ocean, so this serves the purpose.  It is big, and here we have sea lions, seals whales, and more surfers than you might guess. 

Company was here and now is not.  I don't have a host permit or license, but it was a privilege.   Like Muddy Waters said, according to something I heard, "You don't miss the water until the well is dry".  I miss having my company here, believe it or not.  I know.  That is so unlike me. 

Now I have great leftovers which might last a few days.  I actually had a healthy super dinner tonight.  Left to my own devices I rarely manage to do that. 

This ballistictour thing has been a long term healing journey.  It becomes quite clear to me at times just how much of me was whatever unhealed is.  In that context it makes sense not to get too impatient with progress in the various aspects of living my life.  I'm not quite sure what happened but it becomes amply clear that I am re-learning a lot.   Maybe I am learning what I never knew before, but should have by the time I was 20. 

This is going to be a slim Christmas.  No big Santa this year.  I do what I can, when I can, and I certainly don't expect or want others to offer anything beyond good cheer. 

I was beginning to get down and worried, but I think maybe I ought not do that.  Too much that I am happy about, and as always, too many people to be thankful for to be moping from concern that I don't rate it.