City Abuzz; RAIN predicted!!!

Run out and buy milk and bread. Stock up on canned food, locate the candles. Looks like it might rain in San Diego county and everyone you talk to is excited to warn you of the upcoming weather aberration. BE CAREFUL!!! It is supposed to rain, and there may be WIND!! The whole county is buzzing with the news.

Those who keep up with extended forecasts, especially in East County (the boondock hills where I live) also are announcing that next week we may get snow. It is highly unlikely any would stick for long where I live, but Pine Valley could actually hold the dust for a day.

What this means to point Loma and other coastal areas of town is that they may get some rain and temperatures could drop all the way down to maybe 60 degrees Fahrenheit! I'm sure the Micro-Climate Action Team weather people have already announced possible safe haven shelters for those without an adequate furnace or a roof overhead. They do the same when temps reach 80.

So, if anyone who pays attention doesn't hear from me for awhile, it is probably because I am seeking refuge under the bed until the crisis is over. Or, if I hear neighbors panicking out on the muddy street, I may be braving the rain and cold to bring stability to the region. I'm like that; a compulsive purveyor of stability.

We can only hope the water doesn't fill the 1000 foot or so valley, flooding me out. Flash floods are a real possibility down below as the water tends to find little creeks as it runs downhill and over the road. It doesn't tend to stand. It runs.

And just when I got through bragging on our temperate climate, micro climate to be precise. This can only be attributed to global climate change caused by too many cattle, too much mexican food, and non-hybrid vehicles and airplanes. It was never like this back before the Europeans showed up. Since I am native born American, I feel free to criticize people of other continents.

You wouldn't believe all the English and Australian accents out here. I blame them for this issue (even though I suspect half those accents are fake--the influence of Hollywood on this state). Of course Aussies aren't generally European either. It's those Brits and their neighbors to blame, I tell you. And I bet the Aussies are in cahoots.

Whatever the case, it will probably RAIN, and that presents a crisis. The excitement and dread in the air are so thick you could cut them with a knife. These are frightening times in southern most SoCal.

Springtime Again

It would be hard to believe that anywhere on the planet has a more picture perfect, day in and day out, climate than San Diego. Go a few miles east and mild seasons are thrown in the mix. In my part of the country I prefer fall and winter, since summer days can get a little toastier than I like.

What kind of place has different weather every few miles? It's crazy. That explains why the News calls weather reports Micro Climate forecasts. It took me awhile to get the micro part of their climate jabber. Now I get it. Things are different here than there.

I'm far enough out---over 20 miles--that temperatures can vary 20 degrees or more from San Diego proper, particularly the coast. Point Loma, itself, has permanent 70 something weather and it very rarely rains. Any variance of 5 degrees in temp sends the residents into emergency panic mode.
News fighting for You, or whatever any other stations calls it, doesn't do much detail reporting regarding the Alpine area. Too sparsely populated and might give the city a bad rap with its variances of over Five Degrees in a single day!

It is surprising that I am permitted to live out here without owning a pickup truck with tires taller than most undocumented beer drinkers who hang out at the corner by the 76 station drinking beer and leering at passers by. I would have thought they were day labor waiting for someone to hire them except for the dirty looks they give those who catch their gaze. Perhaps they specialize in hiring out to masochists. It's sunny California, baby, we got it all in abundance.


:had to delete the comment based on double entendre

Those jacked up pickup trucks must cost a fortune to drive. I guess they are tall so that horses and cows won't step on your car. Lots of horses and quite a few cows out here. I'm glad to be among them once again, and out of Rancho Trophy People. Have to go back tomorrow afternoon, but that is how life is. I'll be back home straight away.

***off the wall upside down note***
The same people who justified war on drugs intrusions--"If you got nuthin to hide, ya got nuthin to worry about"---are the same ones who now find TSA to be intrusive, and the ones who opposed the law and order era intrusions now seem to acquiesce to the latest barrage of personal rights violations---"It is necessary to keep us safe". Same idiocy different team of idiots. The next step is for everyone to fly naked, be drugged into a stupor and duct taped to the seat. Why not make the jump to that now? It will be safe.

Big Pretense Continues

I refer to the maze of denial which weaves its way through many aspects of our culture "the Big Pretense". It covers everything from pretending Al Sharpton is not a racist, to pretending that the state pen is a cushy pamper house for inmates, to pretending that it is not only our duty, but realistic, to militarily bring "stability" to regions steeped in backwards brutal and insane culture; spread democracy whether they want it or not. The list goes on and on.

One facet of the big pretense is based on the premise that if it is legal, it is right. Millions of companies and people use that bit of conscience salve to justify accepting public money they know constitutes bilking the tax pool. That avenue of behavior, alone, could fill volumes.

Many pretend that the police force as a whole is a lofty selfless group who only want to serve and protect. The fact that half their activities amount to a subtle war on the public gets written off in the obvious instances as "just doing their job". And you condemn those who were "just doing their jobs" under Stalin, Hitler and other regimes which wiped out and imprisoned great numbers of people?

The latest glaring example is the TSA, and Homeland Security. First I must repeat: Nothing they have done as far as personal search and screening at the airport would have prevented 9/11. We knew who Osama was, as well as a whole cast of other characters--had their pictures, knew their general plans to make trouble long before that attack.

Thinking that ignoring the fourth amendment and basic reality is the way to security and a better country is purely an exercise in fantasy. Believing that profiling is evil and not the best way to discover who is attempting to make trouble is to deny reality. Why would anyone choose to harass everyone, forcing them to prove innocence? Power must be a factor in the motive. Maybe lack of imagination, self hatred or something else figures in.

To put it bluntly: Allowing the TSA to stick their finger up your ass will not make for a better, safer world. Not if you take the statement literally or figuratively.

One interesting upshot of current airport policy is that, once again, ease of personal mobility is the loser. Mobility has been under the gun for some time. Tax the piss out of fuel to limit car travel, or do like Jerry Brown did in California when he was last governor and make sure you don't build up the highways to accommodate demand. But they pretend it is for the planet and to stimulate alternative energy, etc. Never happens.

Politicians who talk a big game on energy policy and alternatives "we" need to embrace are not interested in the natural, new inventions and innovations which would come forth, but in controlling the development and distribution of all energy and transportation. That is quite different. But, in the main, the "we" they refer to pretends.

If I ever decide to fly again, and these invasive procedures are still in place, I hope I can request a female to do the groping. I'm not comfortable with males putting their hands on me. Males are all pervs; everyone knows that.

The indication that they may fine a guy who opted out and left the airport after not being able to resolve his objection to the procedure is a bit scary. But people will go along, just like they did in grade school when goofy harold was being taunted and ridiculed by the cool kids. Same syndrome at work. Why risk losing comfort and the feeling of being part of the crowd based on what is actually right?

And let me state that from my experience working closely with TSA in Memphis, that, if you are lucky, one in four is truly professional and not likely to abuse the nature of these new screening devices and procedures, while maybe one in six has a lick of common sense. Perhaps the quality is slightly higher in many other cities. Then again, maybe not. It is unlikely that the higher ups in TSA anywhere are anything better than good tools of totalitarianism. The pieces of work I knew in those positions were straight out of old WW2 movies---the gleefully oppressive members of the party and willing fascists.

But it is easier to pretend they are all "just doing their jobs". It is a tough choice--do you risk living in the weeds or doing some other work that may be harder, or do you knowingly do a job which is nothing but government mandated harassment of the innocent? Of course that goes for many jobs...

I have my own personal pretenses I guess. I'm not even sure when they are in play. Am I kidding myself when I dream or think I am competent, or when I think things are OK? I don't know. But I do not take your money, then control your movements, and choices.

One last thought; since when is it a "privilege" to board a flight on a privately owned airline? Is it a privilege to be served at a restaurant? I think not. Unless there is good reason to the contrary, it is your right. Nowhere is it granted to the government to decide if they want to grant you the privilege. They can deny you the right, provided they have good reason to believe you may adversely affect the safety of others, and if you don't pay then the airline can decide.

Use of the word "privilege" should be weighed carefully if a totalitarian regime controlling society is not the preferred condition.

Cadillac Records; movie review revisted

While at the lovely place where I do most of my work, I caught the movie again on one of the cable stations. In researching this flick on the net, I see it has mixed reviews. One person thought it made "Black people look terrible!". That person is in another world, and definitely knows nothing about blues or musicians.

My main regret was that Eamonn Walker, playing Howlin' Wolf, didn't get more screen time. The little bit he did matched to a tee what I have read about the Wolf. He was great, as was Columbus Short as Little Walter--the standard by which all hard core blues harp players have measured themselves ever since he created his tone and style of play.

Jeffrey Wright as Muddy Waters did a hell of a job. He's one of those guys who just has a remarkable presence on screen. It is clear the he and the others in this flick took the time to learn about the people they played and they understand the music.

Beyonce Knowles kicks ass, no matter how you slice it. She played Etta James.

Adrien Brody played Leonard Chess of Chess records. I think he gave a great performance. The story is about his studio and the people he recorded and promoted, as well as the culture of that world, the problems encountered due to segregation and the efforts to promote crossover hits---stuff that white stations wouldn't stonewall. Chuck Berry and Etta James were the first to score big there, but Chuck had his troubles, quite possibly unjustly so.

In light of the comment referenced above: I was turned on to this movie by a couple I met who are most likely Black. I met the guy at the 76 station I sometimes frequent when I take route B back from San Diego. He'd missed his bus and had a bunch of groceries. I liked the way he spoke to me so I gave him a ride. I make snap judgements based on the vibe I get from people in those situations. Maybe it is risky, but it sure does broaden horizons. Besides, if I was in need of a lift, I'd appreciate a ride.

On the way I popped in my old band's Sun Studios CD. Of course, I let him know I was the harp player after determining he liked the music OK. He brightened up, calling me Little Walter, but showing skepticism. When we arrived at his apartment building, he asked me to hit a lick since there were a few harmonicas floating around in my car in plain view. So I did.

He then insisted I come upstairs and play some for his wife, which I did. Then they insisted I stay long enough to watch the beginning of Cadillac records. They said it was their favorite movie--couldn't get enough of it. They loved the music and loved Little Walter. I had to promise that I would rent the movie. He was very insistent on this point.

So, at first chance I did see it. And I am glad I did. The movie may have strayed from perfect fact like avoiding mention of Leonard's brother and partner in the studio. I think as far as painting the musicians characters it was not too far away from the truth, or at least the folk legends surrounding these people.

It did my heart good to see how much importance and credit was bestowed on little Walter. He gave Muddy's band the sound.

People may not realize that those early blues guys who eventually made it up to Chicago were hard playing gun toting tough customers. The Wolf definitely did as in the movie, firing a shot in a bar letting Muddy know he didn't take kindly to having his guitar player stolen. So Hubert Sumlin wisely quit Muddy and went back to playing for Howlin Wolf.

I'm enjoying what I've been playing, but I swear, I always have a bit of blues in me. A certain type of blues always grabs me. Not all of it, but a lot. In my view this movie is a real standout. Great flick. Really, these actors had some kind of chemistry. I'll bet they thought it was magic.

****didn't realize that Chuck Berry successfully sued the Beach Boys over Surfin USA. Others probably know that. The melody was lick for lick Chuck Berry.

Is It Really That Hard To Tell When I am Joking?

That's it. Just a question

I get these LOL comments that reflect a 1 dimensional mind or possibly a refusal to pay attention.
People who use LOL, not to indicate to the potentially unsure that they are joking, but to imply a superiority of intellect, and show their ridicule based on a flimsy interpretation of a person's statements or philosophy, are obviously not really laughing out loud, and if they are, it is a sign of psychosis or psychedelics.
I've seen a lot of that going around lately. It is a substitute for reason, and a cover for trolling.

Back to the question. Is it really that difficult to separate the metaphorical from the literal, or hyperbole from flat fact?

transferring

It occurs to me that the reason it is so easy to see the errors of public policy and remain preoccupied with it is because I find it difficult to implement logical, principled solutions in my own life. Not that I am wrong on my view of government and all those things.

But it does get boring, but it is mainly somewhat of a conflict that I do not govern myself with near the same reason I suggest for the larger picture. I think it is some form of transference.

There is a balance between standing by while bullies take over the neighborhood, and avoiding one's own personal responsibilities by focussing only on the bad guy situation. Especially since for the moment, it is more of a threat to those who are ignoring it than it is to me. My threat is from myself.

I let a local friend who is unlikely to BS read the first thirty some pages of the book. Then I let it go, never asking for an opinion. He'd been curious to read it when he heard I was in the midst of writing a story. Today he called to tell me how much he likes it and why he likes the main character etc. It was quite a nice encouragement.

It will be swell if anyone likes it. The big thing is to finish it. I have almost 60 pages now. Quite a few characters have shown up, but not too many main players. It won't be what some consider exquisite literature. I'm not always taken with that stuff myself. Not sure how, in light of some stuff that has a haughty place of reverence how some of the more readable people ever got any acclaim. Maybe because Hemingway or Mark Twain would have kicked their butts if they gave them trouble. I personally like Isabel Allende as well as any, from what I know of her.

Not much in the way of writing two pages about a leaf swirling in a mud puddle though. I hope it gets put out there so people who see themselves in it will sue me.

Another Lost Contact Bit The Dust

It happened a couple of years ago but I didn't know until today. One of my very favorite people from my Miami, round 3, days died of some sudden thing, like his heart stopped or one of those issues. That surprised me.

I don't feel guilty, exactly, about loss of contact, but I do regret the turns in my life that caused it. he wasn't in contact either. I'm the one who moved away on a semi-ill fated saga so I guess that puts it on me. We went through some times.

Once, when he'd gone back drinking his girlfriend called me to try to reel him in. It seems he was in the parking lot of one of those edge of Coconut grove little markets, standing off a couple of punks with a stick, and too drunk to have prevailed. Sober they'd have been toast. Then again, sober he wouldn't have been in the fray.

Details are a little vague but I recall getting him to get in the car as we peeled out being chased and cursed. Don't know if it stuck for good but he didn't drink for years after that, and married the girlfriend. She was quite a beauty.

This was not your average guy on the street, getting into fights. He had a masters degree in something and had at one time been very successful in advertising and fund raising in NYC. He was in vietnam in the Marines. Not sure if he was some sort of junior officer, but he also was a TI of some kind before he got out. He wasn't in all that long. Long enough, and no fan of that police action.

Terry wasn't what you expect a Marine to look like, if there is such a thing. Quite good humored and over the top intelligent. I wonder what family he had left. It is thought that his wife also died not long after, but circumstances of that are unknown. So young. She was younger than him by five years or more. I hope he was happy when he left. I know he had some good years.

So weird when people I think have it so much more together than I do either die or prove to be ready to explode. The friend who told me the news thinks his job is about to be cut any day now. He's not sure of alternatives. His would be more mainstream than mine, but that doesn't necessarily mean easier to achieve.

It's worth keeping up with the ones I saw as truer than other friends or acquaintances. I would say worth distancing from the riffraff, but I can't say I have any riffraff in my life at the moment. Maybe just me.

I'm hoping the part about his wife is wrong.

For some reason everything lately keeps bringing back to various times and people of the past. I don't know why. Usually I have little tolerance for the past. It's done. And you can't do any of it over, except by repeating the same mistakes. Maybe that is the lesson in all this, but for the life of me I don't know how to see it when I do certain mistakes over again.

Now I See

It is clear to me that, had I not quit drinking long ago, I would be hopelessly drunk these days. It is a good way to ignore and reinforce dysfunction, and lack of ability to be productive in civilization as we know it.

It is still easy to lose in friendship and love, but not as bad as it could be. I'd like to feel at ease using something to alter reality. Unfortunately, in my case it just won't work and I'd be hugging a bottle under a dumpster somewhere before long.

So, other options must be sought. I look back and think, "If only that day had turned a differently. If I'd just not done this or done that. I almost had a handle on the vague plague which follows me." Obviously, that kind of thinking yields no good.

There are people who offer very loyal and nurturing friendship. In some cases I find it hard to accept because I always feel like I should be doing something or have achieved something more before I can be comfortable associating and socializing. This stuff is driving me nuts. I'm pretty sure it is damned stupid and represents a very skewed view of reality.

Not sure what brought this on. I wonder if there is some kind of cycling thing or just a death wish slowly playing out. To be the victor over this garbage would be a major achievement. I like happy endings. That helps me refuse to admit to an outlook of total pessimism, even if that may have taken over my self assessment. It helps a little.

I'll bet a program of running up and down this winding dirt road would help. It is rather steep, and sometimes I'd have to contend with dogs or coyotes, and rarely rattle snakes. Snakes don't bark and chase you, and it is cool enough a lot of the time, that they're unlikely to be very active.

Or a big earth quake or massive tsunami might facilitate conditions in which I have historically been at my best. Those are times when money and status do no good. Just the ability to make things better with bits and pieces at hand. I can do it when others need something after a disaster, but for myself while civilization is running as normally as it ever does, I freeze in place.

Maybe I should not include this information should I ever need to provide a resume.

Some Say The Problem is Too Many People

I'm somewhat neutral on that assertion. I do think the too many people in one place can be an issue. Population density of any species usually makes for trouble. That's why it puzzles me that most public policy generally discourages spreading out, while encouraging density of population. I've noticed that here in San Diego county. East county, where I live is sparsely populated compared to what it is fifteen or twenty miles west and on in toward the coast.

Various issues come up which seem to target these outlying communities as sacrificial lambs. The powerlink project is one of those. With all the alternative routes possible, and even when their own studies show the present plan as among the poorest alternatives for accomplishing the same thing, the plan which has the best chance of gutting some of the communities is the one they choose. Possibly coincidence, probably not.

The back country is not a culture which demands or needs a lot of control. People own guns and build minor structures such as sheds without seeking permits. They are big on organizing charity events and often still have the old fashioned compulsion to look out for their neighbors. They also tend to tailgate and drive foolishly on winding dirt roads, but that is universal throughout the county and beyond, from my experience.

Personally, I think my own world is too sparsely populated. Once upon a time t may have been otherwise. This is a scary period I'm in and the only way out is to be tougher than is comfortable. Do whatever can be done even if I feel like a zombie and doubt my presence of mind to accomplish the specific task.

Wish I had put all the money I had in gold and silver when I first thought I should do that. I'd be cashing out by now probably. I wonder where one is best off stashing any savings they have? Most funds proved to be a black hole in the last few years.

Maybe there are too many people. How do you know if you are one of the troublesome surplus or one of the OK to be here folks?

Gridlock

In my mind it seems that fear and the will collide. That's my latest theory to explain the lack of forward motion which yields an unpleasant future if not cured. My analysis of present circumstance leads me always to the conclusion that my best course is to follow the few creative enterprises that have been lying dormant before me for some time.

That takes nerve, resolve and perseverance. Qualities I've not honed to any degree in this life. The alternatives are unclear and limited at best. Those of which I am aware also seem slightly unpleasant. Hard labor loses its appeal very quickly at this stage of the game.

Two things do seem to temporarily cheer me up and take the edge off of long lasting heartbreak and panic regarding past foolishness and future condition; playing music with friends, and writing my fictitious story. 43 or 44 pages so far.

I find that when I continue the saga I am writing, and sit out back imagining what comes next, conversations between characters, and logistics involving various topics it involves, that I emerge from that cloud feeling lighter and less full of remorse or sadness.
Those two demons tend to dampen confidence and faith that it will be OK. My alleged book is good therapy, and like I concluded recently, a poor man has to be his own therapist. And that is not always good because it is easier to BS one's self tan it is anyone else.

I believe that. If it weren't so, then why go seek counseling? Exactly. Another human with insight and understanding can spot you fooling yourself better than you can. That realization blew me away when I first experienced it. That was in the early days after I stopped drinking. Well, early years. I sure found it easier to hook up with women when I could lie to myself and not know it, but that's another story altogether.

So, gridlock can be troubling when it exists in one's own mind. However, when it occurs in lawmaking bodies, I salute and encourage it. Anything that slows the creep of authority is a splendid item, in my book.

When I hear the miffed pundits of late decrying the possibility of gridlock among officials who make a profession of wielding power over us little people, the masses to them, I can't help but smile inside. So much of life would have been better had they managed gridlock on many of their past adventures.

Had they been too gridlocked to pass the 16th amendment, no IRS. Had they been too gridlocked to vote themselves cushy pensions and healthcare, maybe they'd behave a bit differently. The list goes on and on. I'll bet no one has a list and count of all the things that can earn one a fine and/or jail time. They create new offenses almost daily, many of which are spin offs of offenses already on the books. Makes me think I am neat and orderly in mind and surroundings by comparison.

But I am not. That doesn't matter so much as learning to picture what I want in my life, then doing the best I can to make it happen without letting fear and doubt create my personal gridlock. Authorities be damned. I'll let them do what they do. It can be a pain when their edicts present obstacles to my plans but I will ignore that as much as possible. Most of my plans sidestep areas which require license, fees, and any other number of permits or whatever.

Beginnings are tough. The most difficult aspect of beginning life over is to not do it the same way you did last time you started over. This involves questioning preconceived notions, long held ideas, and personal phobias and aversions. No small task, but worth it if I can remember to try it. One man's hell is sometimes another's heaven. Compared to where I was ony three years ago, this is heaven.

Opportunity abounds, as do reasons which can be dreamt up to debunk such opportunities.

Damn. I hear rodents. I sure hope they are on the outside of the cabin, pitter pattering around. Maybe I should look into this. The raccoon has had no luck now that the garbage lid is secured with a bungee cord. OK. Just had to write out some thoughts and theories. This lack of confidence and resolve must go. It serves no good purpose, and baby needs new shoes