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.

Teak Tip # X(y+2)420 and Artistic Happiness

If you find that the wood is sort of split with gaps in places you can't glue with clear epoxy and clamp together, so you settle for sort of filling them in, take some wood glue, squirt some into the crack (sounds racy but this is technical) get some sanding dust from the same project--empty out the dust bag from the sander--- squirt some more glue on the discarded cardboard container that once held the sand paper, mix in some dust, tear a strip of that cardboard off to use as a paddle to mix it up into a fairly thick paste.

Then take that and work it into the crevice being healed. The one you already put some glue in. Keep adding and working it in with the cardboard stick you tore off earlier. It has a glossy finish which helps. Keep doing that, using the finesse and touch which comes from experience and years of sobriety, until you have built up the surface so that the actual crack is no longer visible.

Later you can sand it down and curse the fact that it doesn't look exactly like the other wood around it. It's better than the alternative, and if you were going to paint it, no one would know. If you are going to do teak oil, you can sand it in such a way that it just looks like some weirdness in the wood. It will be marvelous and you'll be glad you did it.

Otherwise you risk clothing or body parts catching on the errant splitting pieces of wood. It could result in gigantic splinters greeting the other side of your belly, instead of the warm caress most teak sitters crave.

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Is it just me or does there seem to be a dearth of humor in modern society lately? I don't completely mean the jokester stuff but just a general cheerfulness. The carefree art and such of happier times is tougher to come by. It could just be me.

The TV comedians have taken to tired political jokes, almost as if they all have the same writers. I mentioned that before. But they aren't funny. Most radio talk is devoid of much cheer. Of course that is understandable given the subject matter.

Somehow it used to be that one could lampoon politics and make it funny, even if you disagreed with the underlying sentiment. I think there is one exception; Dennis Miller of all people. I've caught his radio show a few times lately, parts of it anyway, and he seems to have the ability to make a point and not lose the humor. I was always kind of lukewarm about Dennis but now I find myself becoming a fan. Dennis and the Padres. What's next?

Anyway, I keep hoping for an artistic revolution of sorts. Sort of like a modern day Peter Max, but not a knock off, some direction we never considered.

I may be imagining all this. How does one know when he is delusional? Lots of people find their thrills in video games, but that seems a little lacking in humanity, and other than the skills acquired manipulating the gadget, the games appear to lack redeeming values of any kind. Maybe it is fun. But it misses the mark on what I think is due. These are the times which are ripe for a cultural revolution and twist of thinking. It is hard to explain what I am thinking but I am thinking something.