More Airboat Bob

Not sure where lost episodes have gone. If you know, please advise. Thank you.

This is better than detailing the saga of trying to prove innocence (hence save cost of deductible), insist on fair value so I can replace my beloved, late tour vehicle, and make it understood I am just now becoming a full fledged west coaster with no toe left back in Memphis. I have good fortune in that my guitar player is thick in that biz so he can guide me. Also I have friends who won't wear out for another day or two on this drama. It has to be very boring: "oh they said this and that's wrong. I was in vehicle A and B was where it shouldn't be and poor me, blablabla". No one can take too much of that.

OK. Now I'll put what I can for this installment of the airboat series. I'd fill in the blanks about characters and what little plot there was but I don't remember the details. The story and people must not have been too interesting if the creator of them forgets. Maybe an extrapolation of that syndrome is what gave rise to the God is dead movement. More plausible would be the assertion that God is bored. If everyone were me then he would be so glazed over snoozing he might as well be gone.

That is not to say I actually anthropomorphize God or think it is a He. I only think that if there are a bunch of them, then the one we usually claim to know is the mac daddy. I know what I'd do if I held that position in the scheme of things with a bunch of Aphrodite and such floating around. And you could shape shift etc. Yippee.

This pic is not animated



This one is animated. **It should be noted that, as far as I know there are no beaver in the Glades, however I have seen an otter or two in the canal off of Loop Road. I guess it is OK since this is fiction. Of course it is based on real people and a true story--if you'd like it to be...
It looks like text but it changes in awhile


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I'm pretty sure a missing episode goes here.

Then Airboat Bob and Swamp Buggy Sue are on their way to the little keg party over at Naked Nancy's. Naked Guitar Player is well settled in now. It all happened in a day, probably.


I'll just give the rest of what I have.


Last time I saw Airboat Bob, he was in the parking lot of this place outside Memphis somewhere.



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The End

*****lots of typos in that series. I knew it then and I know it now. A tedious process, and I never got around to changing the errors.



..



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The Real Airboat Bob very first episode

After this then go down to the post below the post below this, then back up to the post above that and under this one.
It appears there may be lost episodes, but there are pictures that clue what they may have been about, like intro to Swamp Buggy Sue whose name is actually Maria. I'm not quite sure how that worked.




S.B.Sue was quite the mechanic, and engineer. Her buggy was a high powered war wagon

Airboat Bob, continued

We're going from bottom up on the page, as the first scene is in another post (in case you wonder where the beginning is). I hope I have all of them. I know I can find a few. It isn't as if there will be a test, or a Nobel prize for this. Although I still want a nobel prize for something. The peace prize is easiest; no knowledge or even peace making necessary. Just be hip in the world of lunatic megalomaniacs.

!!!!Note: all the following are animations, but they are timed to sit there awhile before frames change. So, that's how it works.
this group of three is in order


*Bi, as in Bi-Plane, for the aeronautically challenged



*****WARNING***Following is sophomoric and in poor taste, sort of...


more to come soon.





.....

In Honor of Doug (voice inside my eye) Airboat Bob Re-runs

First episode




To clarify, Doug is a fine musician songwriter who wrote the classic tune, Angsty Lamer Blues, which was my theme song upon departing Memphis. He wrote it over a year prior to that, recorded it and sent it to me to put some harmonica accents in.

The name derived from one of my hateful commenters, the day I jumped to number 1 at JS due to that digg thing, which I now avoid because I grew to dislike digg. Not knowing what it was I figured OK, digg this, then wrote a rambling piece entitled something along the lines of, Che Guevarra was a spoiled rich sociopath" (which he was). Not only was my own eyewitness account of a few hours in Havana, post Castro, derided, but my very right to feel. I was called an angsty lamer. I guess people get furious if you suggest losing the T shirt. Anyway, love him or hate him, he makes a hell of a T shirt marketing gimmick. And his fictitious legacy lives on.

OK, so we really liked that tag, angsty lamer. Doug, aka voice inside my eye wrote a brilliant ballad which reflected my frustration at the time.
Here's the logo I made for the angsty lamers. For netmale actually. Not sure he took to it. I like it. If I learn to play guitar naked, this will become my logo.

angsty lamer blues.click here for classic tune

I realize now that my leaving Memphis video had the first raw soundtrack before we sent the tune back and forth with the harp and such. Above is the final version of the song. Don't know how to embed it here..

I'll work the other parts of airboat bob series in as the days go on. You'll see Doug appear. Actually that may be him in upper left of second gif. Got to wait and you'll see the animation. More in first than second.

What Email is Youtube sending my password to?

Dammitttt. I can't get into my swtupid youtube account. I know, typos
Anyway I wouldn't mind except some of those are hidden and it served as a repository for video that I hid when angry at myself. and other reasons.

I think the tourmobile is history. We'll get the official word tomorrow, but a guy who assesses such things for another carrier looked it over and shook his head, hand over heart.

Dear TourMobile,
I loved you like a good wife. You were the best ever.
Remember the pit stops we made at 70 MPH? Sorry about the blow back when I tried to empty the cup out the window. You were a good sport. I hope to find you reincarnated as a clone of yourself. I'll seek out your twin. I know you would have wanted it that way.
Thanks for all the times you took over the driving and navigating when I hopped into the back seat for a nap. You got me out of Memphis and showed me the USA from the Florida Keys to Seattle.
Damn.

OK. I may have grown a bit too attached.

Sorry I didn't provide female passengers much, but at the end, if a dame had been beside me, she probably would not have survived.

It just goes to show you, don't be so sure you really know what is best for you at all times. I trust that things will work out for the best.

I have to say, at that moment I was grateful to be alone. Not that I think it is the ticket in the future, just that one second in time.

Different Phases

I'm in the angry, want to beat up somone--preferably Paunch and Bubba and Ca Hwy Patrol nazis--mood. I hate the fact that I cannot control the pace at which time moves and my insurance company moves. I have yet to discover where the A team for this company is hiding. LaToya the adjuster appears to speak no language. Actually, she is pleasant and speaks well, but gets nothing done. We'll work it out on Monday.

Maybe I'll outgrow this rage phase. It's grief. I was as attached to my car as I would be to a person. That's sick. It is or was a thing. I'm unsure if it is total loss or not. I think it is right on the edge and could go either way.

Maybe I'll go out of town soon and all will be well. All is probably already well.

We played at a private thing which was all bands and musicians. The local music magazine people and other semi-connected people were there. I only piissed off one guy, another harp player. Harmonica players are pretty flaky, on average. They do not play well with others, if the others are harp players. I'm different of course. But the average harp player is cantanlerous and dimwitted. Maybe alll musicians are. Here I am around guitar players that don't piss me off. That is a first. They were dieased in Memphis, and in NC, to a large extent, but here most so far seem free of the guitar man disease. Here, it's the harp players. Fortunately, I've not run into very many. One guy yesterday was a good player. He did not seem to like me very much. Seemed to annoy him too no end. I must have played a decent set.

Some of the acts were first rate, world class. I was surprised and blown away a time or two.

It must be phase shift time. That is hoow it feels; just moving throug pphases, like phases of the moon--and I mean that in every sense oof the word, and/or phrase.

Another Good Day, in the grand scheme of things

Well, today was far different than yesterday. I drove to north county to do a favor. That went well enough. I dislike north county though.

Anyway, I was back nearer to home when the journey came to an end, at the end of a flat bed trailer that was sticking out in the road in the dark, stopped. The guy pulled his truck in this place leaving the back in the road, and got out. Under the circumstances you just could not see it until after it took out the passenger side, all the way down the side of the vehicle.

Maybe the tour mobile will live to tour again. The jury is out on that. At least the incident motivated the trucker to move it the rest of the way off the road. It could have killed a biker or passenger in a smaller car. I think I have the glass out of my hair now.

What an odd turn of events.

I had friends willing to come in the middle of the night and help me through the drama. Imagine that. They took me to their home. Of course we had planned to move a large object in the morning anyway so it works out from that end. But the idea that I not only had someone to call, but I could have called others as well, is amazing. Not sure the others would have been as able to come, and their reception is spotty, but still, I could have tried. The point is, people were willing to help and it was at a highly inconvenient time and a long way off. I think that is worth noting.

The other big picture aspect of the deal is that I am insured, even though the deductible is almost 2 months rent. And the nature of the hazard was such that it could have killed someone, possibly me. It sucks, and I was/am very fond of that vehicle. Mobility is something I value highly. But, it looks like we shall resolve it one way or another and I hope to be safely mobile again soon. Glad I have some rental coverage, even if it is somewhat limited.

Life is a dangerous and often costly hobby.

It would be stupid and bratty to be too wound up. It does kind of bother me that I can't think of anything I could have done to avoid it, considering all the factors involved. I was being alert and was paying attention. Thank God a pedestrian wasn't there instead of the truck. You can only see so much at night. Usually I can rely on intuition. All I knew was something wasn't right over there, bam. Too late now.

What a shame I had to ruin someone's sleep to come get me. That was pretty nice.

I can't figure out the cops, though. Very hostile and not at all helpful or considerate. I was beginning to feel like Rodney King.

The Sometimes Daily Job

Often in the past I've emphatically pontificated about how the daily job is over rated, and a hindrance to exploring the riches life has to offer.

It is much to my chagrin (whatever that is) that I now must say that the daily (in my case somewhat daily) job can be a surprising enhancement to the enjoyment of being alive. Of course it helps that I am trusted to report fairly my hours, expenses, and thoughts on what needs doing. I never charge for my daydreaming time, lunch or general dawdling. Being left alone to do whatever I do is worth a lot to me. I'm sort of my own business, but I avoid having employees, inventory, or much else that you get punished for having. It makes me feel very American somehow. There's a need and I can fill it, and a fair trade is accomplished. The market at its best, on a small scale.

That is not to say that I don't have several ideas cooking which could potentially increase my wealth to the point that it would rightly be called wealth. However, I paid rent today and that is always a thrill to me. Paid up, owe nothing. My needs are fairly simple.

I'm writing this down as a hedge against hard times. I've been around the block long enough to know that in the worst of times I find it hard to recall how the good times felt, or even that they were good. So I am stating for the record that today was good and I felt free, hopeful and happy. My worth was acknowledged more than once, without me expecting anything. Work was rewarding, and the perks were bizarre but innocent enough. Don't wind up the mind too much. I was merely given the OK to enjoy some of the niceties of the place, in my own way. Sure wish you'd been there. Hahaha. You probably think I mean you.

It is worthwhile to note that I forced myself to eat breakfast before I left this morning. I think I do better when I have morning food.

Possibly, I thrive on the affection and approval of friends. I would say respected friends, but no one out here pretends to be my friend without mutual respect being an obvious component. Well, no one pretends it. Friends are friends. I've been lucky this year. That goes for those I'm still in touch with as well.

A year ago I was somewhere in CO, Wyoming or Montana. Probably Colorado. I was on my way to northeast Montana. At that time I thought I had a place sewn up in San Diego, but that fell through a couple of weeks later. I think it worked for the best. I'd barely decided that I would stick in this area until further notice. I can already tell I can't be too far away, and certainly not for any length of time. For now I'm holding fast. I get spoiled by the weather and lack of mildew and bugs.

It's a good start and if it never becomes more complete, it is not so bad. Maybe that is the benefit of seeing Hell, it makes it easier to pay attention to the good stuff, and have sense enough to appreciate it. It still chokes me up when I take stock of now and hold it up against then.

Notes to Self, mostly

I'm in a good mood and wanted to write it down. That compulsion to write whether I have anything to say, anyone who cares to read it, or not. My cross to bear.

I'm continuing to try to not let the state of the union bother me. The only thing that is likely to have an impact is that plan to fine you if you don't get insurance. Those who compare health insurance to auto insurance are victims of faulty logic. The two are not analogous. My appendectomy is not going to land you or your car in the body shop or morgue. One simple fact is that you do not know what works in the lives of others or how they might best serve their own needs, beliefs and desires, so assuming you know best how they ought to handle life's details is arrogant and annoying.

It is beautiful, if a little warm out here on the far out coast. More warm in the east county than by the sea. Despite all, today I sense that opportunity abounds if one has the nerve and energy to chase it.

Most likely these things come in cycles; one day you feel showered with love and acceptance, the next it may seem like you are completely out of phase with all living things and that they probably don't like you because of it. I've rarely felt like such a magnet for the kind of people and interaction I want like I do out here. I've been fortunate and I find it hard to imagine not making that decision to go west. It amazes me even yet how this adventure has progressed. I wonder if my secret plan is going to unfold as I am beginning to imagine, and hope. I'd say it may be possible.

Been playing a little music with my friends and I think we are going to expand the scope a bit. Saturday we will join about 100 other musicians for a private party of non stop music and maybe some jamming. That could be very interesting. I better practice while driving to and from my work at Barry world. You can practice blues harp on the road with good results. It is far less distracting than talking on the phone. Texting, forget it.

It still bothers me that certain inventions and developments need doing and could improve lives. I got to get one of those things in the works, even if I'm not quite sure of the end product. I know the parameters some of these things should meet, and that serves as the guide when refining designs or creating the process. It just takes believing yourself, trusting your mind and instincts. Easier said than done but lots of fun when you do it and find your idea was valid.

There was a roll of carpet on The whatever highway. Maybe an alert motorist scarfed it up and has it listed on craigslist or ebay.
Not much else of interest lately on the roads. There have been a few couches and some wheels and tires. None or items I need at the moment. I'm convinced that you could make a living cruising the roads picking up things that get dropped. I still wonder why so many people don't get the correlation between securing cargo in the truck and having it arrive at its final destination. I see plenty of truck loads of things that look ready to fall off. Must be a local fear of rope or tie down straps. Kinky as they reportedly are, you'd think tying things up would be their specialty.

Time and Space Discontinuum

On the way home from the place I'll call "Bosco's", to protect myself--the only innocent in this scenario, a very disconcerting thing happened.

I always take the same way home because I like the roads and it is less traffic. P- road to THE 67, turn right. OK. So I'm on Poway winding up into the hills. I remember moving into the right lane as soon as the road became multi lane. That happens shortly before the light. It is a T intersection so you go right or left.

By then it was becoming dark enough that even the dimwitted had their headlights on. OK. So, I remember that lane change into right lane. The next thing I know I am driving through country that does not look familiar, although I had the sense of going the right direction. I guess any direction in which front of car precedes rear would have felt right.

I had absolutely no memory of the drive between the lane change and that point. I'm getting nervous but figure I'll find out where I am soon enough. I still had hope I was on the right road and didn't know it.

It was looking less and less familiar all the time. Then I noticed the peaks to my left had a pink cast, yet those to my right were dark. That meant I must be going north instead of south. Then I passed the Beau Weevil restaurant and I knew I was not on my usual route.

I turned around at a place which would allow me to see the road sign so I could see if it was 67 or not. To my relief, it was. As it turns out I was about seven miles from the intersection where I last remembered being conscious of myself. That means about five miles before I had any awareness at all.

The thing is, I don't recall being lost in thought. One second I'm here, the next I am there. I'm not too sure about the time difference. It seems like it was more than the ten minutes I'd allow for that travel. No need to analyze that too much. The rest of it is freaky enough.

If I had been drinking I'd expect to start out toward one destination and end up another. No drink and no drugs. What is going on? Am I doomed? Have I been abducted? Did I jump dimensions?
Most importantly, can this somehow be turned into cash? Is there any money in it?

I'm used to times of distraction in which I end up miles down the road without thinking about it. But not just having several minutes of film cut out, and making a totally wrong and uncharacteristic turn such as this.