Almost Communicado

I've been incommunicado for a couple of days now. In some respects even longer. It was my decision to avoid all until I had the stubborn garage doors at the British oil man's house worked down to the point where there is nothing more to do until Raul shows with the secret formula number 2, the paste wax of unknown substances. I suspect it is really show polish mixed with bee's wax and peyote. Perhaps there is a drop of virgin's blood or an entire virgin in the mix. One can only speculate and, perhaps, hope.

My goal was to finish with the sanding and sealing by this past Monday. It took longer than expected. Six to eight hours, sanding by hand, using my fingers to try to get little places here, there and everywhere is not something I generally do. Yesterday I put in 11 hours on the final push. My fingers were somewhat raw. Then I felt no pian but they seemed to have a strange tactile sense. I thought maybe I'd inadvertently sanded off my finger prints.

It turned out that they were merely sealed byt the sealer I'd been applying to the doors. Once I rubbed it off, I again felt the burn and normal sense of touch. No finger prints would have been cool.

The crazy thing is that I don't even know what I'm getting paid. I bid the job figuring an entirely different scenario. This has taken many hours more. More than I would want to admit. The goal of making it right appears to be close to being realized, though. That is the important part; Turning out the result to which I committed. I wanted to run away from this mess in the worst way. That was before I found out what I was dealing with and made some progress. Then it grew to an obsession. Now if Raul will hurry up with this top secret mix, maybe I can be done with it altogether.

I now know how to do something I didn't know existed. Wonder if that will ever pay off.

So, after days and days away from home, working the doors and doing some projects around the corner for the weel connected Democrat, I made it home. By the way, if you think the dems are not money people, and that their policies do not serve some segment of the monied elite, you are miles off the mark. That's OK. I get paid to do the work the illegals won't do.

Tomorrow, I have to go back. Then Sat. do work at a private house. Not one of the rich folk houses. I agreed long ago, but I've decided this sort of thing is not for me. Since this person runs the political house, and that is where my bread is buttered, best to bite the bullet and go through with this.

We have a strange gig Sunday at some Rotary club thing. I like to play so I will, but for various reasons I have a feeling I am not that much on the same page with this group of roto heads. It will be OK.

After that, I'm almost back to my normal slack self, and I'll be communicado.

Time is of the Essence

Or so they say. I was going to write about something but it is too late and I am determined to get out from under looming projects so time is almost up.

The disastrous garage door is well on its way to becoming a work of art, or short of that, at least an acceptable make over. Raul continues to disguise his formulas in containers which are labeled sour cream or kitty litter. Even I know that this sealer is not really kitty litter, but it does look like milk so maybe there is a connection. Reportedly cats like milk. I've been told it is not that good for them, so what's up with that?

My friends who are finally back in their renovated house, which is still in process but mostly done, showed me some of the make-work items they had to do to get through inspection. The insanity of what was required boggles the mind. These are items which neither add to quality, safety or structural integrity. Some are alleged to be for safety but if you were there to see, you'd agree these were irrelevant adjustments.

The real lesson is that San Diego and perhaps California in general punish those who own anything and attempt to better their lives. This is why no one on Ballistic Mountain gets permits to build or add on if they can avoid it. "Permit" is a dirty word up there. I was told just that at one of the fire meeting when I was joking with a guy about getting a permit to dam the seasonal creek that runs through his side yard.

Did you know that at this secret work location, this one where I am at this minute, you can skinny dip in the hot tub spa, or the pool, and no one is any the wiser? You could. The spa is a good thing for aching sanding shoulder syndrome.
And to think high school and even college teachers and counselors pegged me for someone who should have pursued a higher education as far as you can go in that world. Boy, if they could see me now they'd sure realize I didn't need no steenkeeng doctorate dee gree.

Even so, there is probably a reason and purpose to this odd life. I'm hoping I discover it while I'm still capable of remembering it. I figure if I hold good thoughts for others, resist negativity when it does no good, and avoid resentment, then most likely being here will net a positive effect in the grand scheme of things. Possibly I will dish out less pain than pleasure to others. That is pretty much the best I can do.

Forgive me, I am moping about some things. Mostly past rejections and disillusionments. The truth is, considering all things I am quite lucky to be alive and in one piece. A walking miracle.

Not a Virtuoso, Just an Anomaly

The Ballistic mountain band, who doesn't call themselves that, is proving to be a cornucopia of creativity. Is that a proper sentence in my use of such words? OK. I say it is a go, so it is.

It may be primarily an acoustic, vocal and harmony outfit, heavily folk influenced, but don't be too quick to judge. It was extremely challenging at first for me to quit putting too much of a blues spin on everything. After awhile I got more of the hang of the kind of precision and inventiveness needed to play decent country, or else, harmonica with these tunes.

The idea, in my book, is for the back up guys like me to add the icing on the cake. Don't try to overpower or be the cake. The style of play that is evolving here has begun to suit me, and it has definitely made me much better and more versatile. Every time we get together I feel like I am progressing a little more.

On top of that, the original music these guys are bringing out is stellar. I have become the biggest fan of both guitar players, as song writers. It has been a long time since I've played on original tunes I like so well.

They have continued to include the instrumental version of one of mine every practice. It is purely a cut loose how I want to play sort of tune. They act like I am some super skilled guy. I remind them that I am mediocre in most ways, but I have that anomaly thing going. Few if any other players go about it they way I do. I'm not really a harp player's harp player. That is not my goal anyway. I strive to be a guitar player's and a singer's harp player.

But this is the first time ever I am encouraged to do just one number entirely my way. They are good about moving somewhat out of their comfort zone, but then by now I guess it has become more easy. Not many people use a C minor Lee Oskar harmonica to cut loose with. A harp player's harp player would consider it no good because I don't get the minors by using overblows and such on a major key harp. Too bad, I like the minor tuning and I can bend and overblow that if need be.

No way to get the same thing on some other harp. It wouldn't have the same tone and sound. Maybe it would be better depending on who played it, but this lets me get lost and let go as much as I allow myself. It seems to be be getting better.

Who'd expect a couple of folk/country/bluegrass/gospel guys to encourage my acid rock/jazz tinge of latin jam?

The real point is that this group is open enough to encourage such things. Everyone is eager to hear everyone else's tunes, and no one is trying to be the big wahoo. Kevin is the natural for front man and anchor of the bunch, however we all know his wife is the final word. Often the focus is on her singing, then again there is Cliff who's considered the most seasoned and skilled musician.

We've progressed a lot in the last month or so. I think it coincides with the amount of original material we've added. They've been sitting on this material for awhile. Not sure what prompted them to bring it out.

This is one of the fortunate side effects of living out in the sticks high above the madding crowd.

Easy; That Hand Rubbed Look//and CA Highway Robbery

So I decided to use this Penofin Marine Oil Finish stuff. It is reputed to be good, and proclaims itself to be The Best. It also says, right there on the can, "for that hand rubbed look".

That implies that you just put the finish on as normal and that's all there is to the hand rubbed look. Well, on the back of the can there is much information. Included in all that fine print are the instructions on what one must do to achieve "that hand rubbed look".

Surprise! What you do if you want more of the hand rubbed look than normal is to apply however many coats it takes with 400 grit wet/dry sandpaper. You hand rub the stuff in. I'd never have guessed that to achieve that hand rubbed look you actually have to hand rub it.

They trust you, so they tell you the inside scoop. You just have to repeat the process until all the fibers are fully --something---penetrated, I think. And all the gaps filled. Wood work is sexy work.

It is like a product that promises that wind blown look, then on the back of the shampoo bottle it tells you to tie yourself to the Card Sound bridge in the Keys during a hurricane.

Even so, the Penofin Marine is good stuff. Oh, but did I mention you have a wait a long time between these 400 grit rub sessions? You do the deed, the rub off all the excess with "clean" cloths" (yea right), which actually leaves it dry to the touch, but it is a trick so you let it dry a few hours, or better yet over night. Rosewwod oil from trees chopped down by virgins is tricky stuff.

I've applied maybe five coats of hand rub to a couple of different pieces, and am just now getting toward that hand rubbed look. Am I patient, persistent, artistic, or just plain nuts?

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Holy smoke!! Talk about highway robbery!! I just received my official renew your registration notice from the greedy state of California. I've bought more than one car in the past for what they charge to renew a single license plate. Apparently they decide what your car is worth, then charge you accordingly. Another of those progressive taxes.

It is odd that in a state which doles out more welfare than any other, that they would institute taxes which hurt those with least money most of all. If you were to give a person of meager means a car, you'd be sending him to the poor house if California decided it was worth more than ten grand, or less I guess.

Everywhere else just charged a set renewal fee because they already nailed you when you registered it the first time. This was an unexpected couple of hundred plus. That's what you pay for good weather, seaside and nice country. Maybe since so little else is wrong people decided to bankrupt the place and make things a little more interesting. It's human nature. Just being free in a good place isn't enough. Have to find ways to complicate it and create drama.

Off The Subject, but ...

Until this last year I had not noticed it quite so much. Maybe this trend has been experiencing an upswing. People go berserk either pro or con regarding laws they haven't read.

Even the president makes comments which indicate he either hasn't read legislation, or he lies about it to serve his benefactors. Serve can be considered a broad enough term to include anger, agitate, and turn group against group. It happens a lot. Obama is not the only one guilty of such things.

The banking laws were so complicated most people have no idea exactly who got bailed out and how. Stimulus madness, and all the great "shovel ready" this and that proved not to be much good to most people. Of course in the middle of that, an official, whose name and title I do not recall, wanted to be sure jobs weren't going to skilled white labor. Always the need to create villains and animosity. Blame that guy, not all the other groups.

The politics of condition of birth is devoid of actual universal philosophy. It assumes we are not all equal under the law, not all similarly human, which implies we ought not all have the same basic rights. That's why rights has been redefined.

Maybe underlying all this madness is a shift from the American model to the Continental model. That is what it was called at some point in time, in some circles. The distinction is that under the continental model, you only have the rights granted by the state. They are privileges, and only the state can grant them. Under the American model, you have (had) any rights not explicitly forbidden. The state only had powers explicitly granted. All other power and right was reserved to states, localities and individuals.

It is an important distinction. In one case the government exercises power only through the permission of the people. In the other case people only exercise power under the permission of the government. We've moved toward the latter. But it is a tangled mess and lots of money is made with no regard to damage done to freedom of the individual.

The reason a senator would argue for a bill she hasn't read is because contained in the thousands of pages are provisions which serve interests who keep her in power. It is self serving and deal making.

In the case of the Arizona law, an alarming number of prominent figures have commented on it without looking at the the text of it or the reality of it. I find it much more dangerous for cities and states to more or less declare war on another state based on a law that state passes that displeases them. The worst part is that the arguments do not address the actual law, but wrong summaries of the law. If they want to take some position, they should get the facts straight.

This particular issue is the worst case of demagoguery I've seen in a long time. Groups are being frightened and angered purely to serve the power agenda of organizations which seek nothing but their own power. Now we have little clutches of people, and hate groups who claim to represent all Hispanics. And they try to pit them aginst some imaginary white conspiracy. It simply does not exist as they claim.

La Raza is right there at the forefront. They want to take part of America back because they say we stole it from Mexico. Where did Mexico get it? Let's see, Spain played a part, and France, too. And if they give it to the Azteca then the Azteca will have to give it back to a variety of ancient nations, most of which end in ec; toltec, olmec this ec that ec. And where they got it, I'm not sure. The point is, be consistent in how you want to work this out. And if you do get your raqcist state, will you loosen Mexico's immigration laws? They are far more strict than ours.

It is easier to play on emotion and tell people they will get accosted buying ice cream even though they are citizens whose ancestors have been here for over a hundred years. No, you will get rounded up for looking Mexican. Fortunately, that is simply a lie. Unfortunately when the president or attorney general say it, or a loud mouth la raza racist thug says it, people believe it without double checking. The attorney general admits he has made all his comments based on stories in the paper and such but hasn't bothered to read the actual bill. It may surprise him that it only reinforces the federal law already on the books.

If you take a bus ride from LA to Dallas, somewhere along the way the feds will board the bus and ask to see documentation regarding your legality for being in the US. They go all the way through Arizona and beyond before that happens. Because it is close to the border, and because people sneak in and there are some issues, like dead ranchers and disproportionate amount of crime committed by those who enter illegally. Not all of them, of course. Just a higher percentage than other groups.

Some of my good friends in the ast were here illegally from other countries. Eventually they found ways to work it out. They were not criminals. The law is not as bad as state income tax or a score of other such things.

Since when do states up north have a clue what it is like to run Arizona? In the case of California, it ought not waste time and money grandstanding about other states' affairs. It has its own issues.

The sadest thing is that many of the resolutions condemning what they do over there have been brought forth by people who never read the measure. Those who have and still act in such a way are merely fomenting hate and fear, then pandering to that in order to secure votes. It is nothing short of criminal. No way anyone would arouse such passion if they read the bill. No way, that is, unless they are willing to flat out lie.

Life at the Resort

Or, all the president's men. That's an inside reference. I'm actually an insider of no influence in the grand scheme of things.

Due to the obvious gas consumption and time involved in commuting 60 or 70 miles per day, it was suggested I just stay at the site while on this multi day push. OK. I can handle that, except I am suspect of hidden cameras, so I dance and do unusual things for Their entertainment. Not really. Most f the time. I think I know where the eyes in the walls live.

It would take no time for me to get used to this upscale life. Upscale relative to the usual, although I do like my view on Ballistic mountain. Last night I heard a bat flying around in the pool/spa area. Have to take advantage of the heated spa to cure aching muscles. I need more substantial muscles I think. Too bad I can't sleep here like I do in my secret home away from home.

Perhaps the term "ballistic" as it applies to my life, the Tour, and etc., should be clarified. It is not meant in the sense of going ballistic, as in angry maniacal hooplah. It is meant in the sense of my life being like the travel of one shot out of a giant cannon. There you go, but where you end up, who knows?

Anyway, this is an unusual life. I try like crazy to deserve the breaks I get. It is easy to find a down side to every positive thing. I think that is a mistake. It is not that easy to avoid it. Only seeing the downer thing tends to shut off the solution. It tends to amplify the attention on what you don't want rather than find ways around the obstacle. In my case, recognizing reality can bring about a negative outlook. Things never get all set just right and stay that way. There's maintenance on the car. You'd think it should just stay as it is without help. Then you have to eat more than just once in a lifetime. On and on.

It may be that all the little obstacles and disruptions of the perfect static balance are what makes life life. If that isn't a confusing trickster scheme I don't know what is. It will probably be alright

Necessity May Be the Mother

There is that old saying that necessity is the mother of invention. Often I have questioned if that isn't a part time mother. A lot of things are needed but still go ignored. For example, people need to mind their own business and stay out of the affairs of others when they aren't being bothered. Nope. Doesn't happen---enter the parade of professional busy bodies that posture on the news every night for the last 40 or 100 years. So, freedom is needed, and once I thought it was invented, however a sure way has yet to happen. Maybe people just don't get that the invention is there, just not fully r properly applied. Inventions should be idiot proof. Too bad that one wasn't. They tried.

Perhaps invention is done when those official creepy people have their heads turned. Positive invention at any rate. Same with innovation.

Invention, innovation, whatever you call it. A contractor once told me the best way to find aq unique way to do something is to assign it to your laziest worker. The assumption being that he did not hire any incompetent or stupid employees. He did large concrete jobs like water treatment plants and such. His guy came up with a very clever quick, cheap way to form and pour a particular part of the structure that normally was all complicated and labor intensive. It worked well. That was a great company.

Anyway, on my job, I'm the laziest employee I have. And, true to form, I finally found a way to make this tedious, labor intensive, Raul garage door, special magic, artistic finish project much less labor intensive and time consuming. At least I think I did. So far so good. Tomorrow will tell the tale.

I'm still in the prepare the trashed doors stage. That is the key part, and the hardest. This things will be right yet. I'd say the inspiration was pure brilliance but it was really pure frustration with working an hour and having so little to show for it. It was a combination of impatience and dislike of doing too much damned work.

So, I tried or thought of everything I could imagine that might save labor---then I sat and drank my coffee. Then I took a break. Then I actually tried the idea and realized I got more done in 30 minutes than I did in an hour and a half of actually work--no breaks.

Then I went around the corner to the teak, round 2, job. This new improved set up, and the fact it can be protected from infidels and weather when needed, now, leave me somewhat encouraged.

Who would have thought a bottle of water and a scrub brush would be my new best friends?
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This group I play with has made a song I did with the Memphis band into an instrumental. Actually it is primarily me going as wild as I can while the guitars make a gentle rhythm. C minor. I'm not sure I ever had a band willing to do that. It is more their idea than mine and I like it. I don't go as crazy as I could yet, but this could be a chance to spontaneously combust under the right circumstances. It is kind of a risky thing, but I think it is on the right track. The right people have responded favorably the couple of times we played out. All the stuff we do is better now anyway.

I'm really happy with the original material in this group. No one cares that much about playing out so we do what we do. I'd kind of like to play some different gigs but at the same time, I think the creativity and talent of these guys makes it worthwhile to do whatever it is they have in mind. It took awhile but they have made me much better than I was.

Trying Not To Be An Ingrate

When I get into these projects which seem to never end, and which leave my back aching, I start to internally gripe about not being a sociopathic lawyer with the big bucks, or any number of other things. That is not good. I'm lucky to be where I am and have this work to get me by until I actually make the effort, or take the chance, which will put me in some other vocation.

When it goes my way I like this stuff. Right now it is slow going and not that easy. A normal person would think this kind of thing would be a fun hobby. And it is.

So, I thought I'd better be sure to recognize that this is not the time to be an ingrate. Just because sleep is my favorite hobby is no reason to lose all enthusiasm for more kinetic passtimes. I know what you are thinking. I'm not going there.

The point is, the mind can play tricks. You get what you want then you forget that it is what you wanted. How dumb is that?

Pecos Bill Bearing Down on Dallas

My friend, Mr S, whom I will here refer to as Pecos Bill in order to protect anonymity, has already toured the Pecos depot as he closes in on Dallas. Texas is a rather large state, so I hear, which means it may take a while to cover the remaining span.

Rumor has it that to kill boredom he has been riding with his head out the window, pretending he's a dog. If you see him, wave. Do not throw a frisbee his way, as that could cause him to jump from the bus in pursuit. Method acting. Or whatever kind causes you to believe the part, is what he may be employing. The risk is too high.

Any trouble making has been done in such a way that other passengers were framed for the offenses and tossed from the vehicle at high speed. In the middle of nowhere you can do that. It saves money on court costs and all the lawyers and other nitwits who take a cut. Even though innocents sometimes suffer, as in this case, the long term record of this system is actually a tad better than normal court for meting out appropriate sentences and not convicting the wrong person.

So, that's the story. The vicarious thrill of travel found in following the tour of another.

Who Ray! Another Tour to Follow

You'd think I was the one escaping a bad situation, heading off with only a suitcase or two, and having no idea what comes next, but knowing it will be OK. Having friends at the end of the ride is a big deal. It is what saves your life sometimes.

I've had good fortune that way. I am glad my friend will get to experience what it is like when you are surrounded by kind people. When others treat you as if they see some value in your existence it can often bring you back to life if you've struggled to see the value in yourself. The kind of people who will beat you up if you mope too much make great friends.

To me, it is exciting when you are going from a place and life which had become unworkable, stagnant and otherwise not pleasant, and you realize that for now, your only home is right where you are--even if it is a bus seat for a day or two. No looking back, and so little defined ahead that there is no way to plan beyond the very basics. Someone is bound to be willing to pay you to do who knows what. That's the first thing. After that can be dealt with later.

Whether someone noticed this, or I noticed it myself, I am not sure, but I often think I feel more secure with less real security. It is likely just a phobia regarding being responsible; like having a house and major possessions. I guess it is all the rules and regulations for everything I most dislike. I can't keep up. That doesn't make me irresponsible, just born with an inordinate sense of entitlement to be free and autonomous.

Whatever that all means, I was happier than I would have expected to get a call from Mr. (name withheld) as he crossed into Arizona. Finally, he got out of that L.A. area which was so toxic under the circumstances. Unbelievably good people at the other end.

Another case of life turning in unexpected ways, with a little help. Maybe it was only unexpected by some. I wonder at my vicarious thrill as someone else travels cross country with almost nothing, ready to start from scratch. Something about that scenario is so American, or gypsy, not sure.

I'm happy and relieved. No one wants to hear that a friend is out in the global climate change with only a cardboard box. But hearing that a friend is heading toward a sort of rebirth and an adventure into the unknown is kind of cool.