.or one of those places. I'm not sure what was up. Almost bought the farm. I guess I was doing something besides driving. These roads near me have bluffs on one side, drop off the edge on the other. No nice shoulder at all on many stretches.
And I was on just such a stretch when I looked up to see I was already off and heading toward an outcropping in the bluffs, and a very nasty bunch of holes or craters in the bit of shoulder. There is not even space to pull over so if you are partly off the road, you messed up.
I swerved left to avoid collision and hopefully not let the wheel be swallowed by the crazy, craggy dip. It caught part of it and when the wheel made it out the car went waay left. Good thing no one was coming the other way. Had I been in one of the old Jeeps it would have rolled. I got back on the right line without further over-control issues. I'm not sure I had a choice about swing to the left lane. I needed a radical change of angle to best avoid bigger trouble.
Unfortunately this car has wheel covers which I hate. I need to get the steel spoke wheels. I don't want the fancy alloys. I like the basic steel with four or five spoke things. Simple and less easy to ruin. My old car had those and I meant to switch them off to this car, but by the time I figured out how, I would have to go to some border town and bring jack stands, jacks, etc. and do it myself so I put it off and forgot. Dumb choice.
The stupid wheel covers are there but a bit the worse for wear. What really troubles me is that this is what you are supposed to do drunk, and I'm not drunk. Another milli second and it could have been nasty. That was the kind of terrain that can cause a flip, a dead stop into the side of a cliff, or worse. And I could have careened into an oncoming car or truck. I was lucky.
Actually I was amazed that I was able to get it back on the road at all. I thought it was too late and no way I could miss that ugly dip.
It is not usual that I am that careless and distracted. I hardly ever answer the phone while driving. If I do I slide it open to speaker and leave it on the passenger seat. So, it wasn't phone foolishness.
I think it was because I was on the way to do some work and I was preoccupied with the blues. I'm pretty sure I will one day not be so lucky, and that will be that. Hopefully I can get something worthwhile done before then. I'd hate to leave a useless mess behind.
I'll pay better attention from now on. It was a close one and quite surprising.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Thank you song
Now I'm a guitar man. Like my new ax? Even has valley girl comments from the wang bar.
And another from back in a previous life at the King Biscuit fest. I like this one because the videographer didn't aim the cam too much at the pavement or port-o-lets on this one. I do remember I was just getting over a cold or the flu and felt less articulate than usual but I had fun that day. Articulate works best on a blues harp. I also like ths because a couple of photographers took my picture. That makes you feel important even if they usually get 86'd.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Blues
Strange color, blue.
Blue skies= good
Got the blues = sad
Blue {things I won't mention] = somewhat frustrating but fun getting there, in a perverse sort of way.
Blue is considered a cool color and some shades are soothing.
It seems like a hue full of contradictions.
The End
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Wax and Wane is an Uncomfortable Lifestyle
That does it. I'm certain that there is a pattern here; up and optimistic followed by lost and sure the walls will crash in at any second. Knowing it is all internally generated helps not take it too seriously, but it doesn't prevent the problem of getting nothing done or not knowing where to start.
This routine truly sucks, I tell you. Maybe massive doses of omega 3 in some form would help. No doubt it is due to too many blows to the head from an early age. Or maybe it is just what happens when one is not smart enough to know better.
What kind of idiot can turn Paradise into a prison? You are not allowed to answer "Janet Nepolitano", or similar thing. This is all speaking in terms of the personal small picture.
Another added note; Never ever get your hair cut by anyone in Alpine. I gave it another shot at another untried hair cut place. This one seemed like it might work out. It was run by women and I thought would at least be better than the biker who has never had a haircut himself. NO.
That makes maybe four attempts to find a decent haircutter in this small town. We are talking really bad. I could have given any of my friends a pair of scissors and come out better.
Vain, you may say. Possibly. But it is clear that the ony safe bet is to pay more money and go to Notorious for Hair in Point Loma. I don't care if hardly any men ever go there. I'd rather pay the money, have nice smart aleck chicks do the job, and come out not feeling like Moe in the Three Stooges.
I may let it grow this time for a year. Being grateful to still have plenty of hair at this age, why not?
It was my hope to help the failing businesses in Alpine. Apparently I am only enabling gross incompetence.
What's even more stupid is that I usually leave saying, "That's great, thanks a lot". In my defense it is partly because I can't tell what they've done at that point. I discovered so many stray strands of wrong length that I used my sharp kitchen knife to even it up slightly. (couldn't find my scissors)
Maybe I should wait until my mood chemistry is on the upswing before I make any decisions like get a haircut, fix the car, etc. When I'm down I make irrational and poor choices. That is why it is so hard to get the needed things done. I either forget what they are, mix up the priorities or get them done in an unacceptable fashion.
It is probably a more painful existence than it should be, and more of an agony than it sounds. I'll bet it is possible for it to be much better.
This routine truly sucks, I tell you. Maybe massive doses of omega 3 in some form would help. No doubt it is due to too many blows to the head from an early age. Or maybe it is just what happens when one is not smart enough to know better.
What kind of idiot can turn Paradise into a prison? You are not allowed to answer "Janet Nepolitano", or similar thing. This is all speaking in terms of the personal small picture.
Another added note; Never ever get your hair cut by anyone in Alpine. I gave it another shot at another untried hair cut place. This one seemed like it might work out. It was run by women and I thought would at least be better than the biker who has never had a haircut himself. NO.
That makes maybe four attempts to find a decent haircutter in this small town. We are talking really bad. I could have given any of my friends a pair of scissors and come out better.
Vain, you may say. Possibly. But it is clear that the ony safe bet is to pay more money and go to Notorious for Hair in Point Loma. I don't care if hardly any men ever go there. I'd rather pay the money, have nice smart aleck chicks do the job, and come out not feeling like Moe in the Three Stooges.
I may let it grow this time for a year. Being grateful to still have plenty of hair at this age, why not?
It was my hope to help the failing businesses in Alpine. Apparently I am only enabling gross incompetence.
What's even more stupid is that I usually leave saying, "That's great, thanks a lot". In my defense it is partly because I can't tell what they've done at that point. I discovered so many stray strands of wrong length that I used my sharp kitchen knife to even it up slightly. (couldn't find my scissors)
Maybe I should wait until my mood chemistry is on the upswing before I make any decisions like get a haircut, fix the car, etc. When I'm down I make irrational and poor choices. That is why it is so hard to get the needed things done. I either forget what they are, mix up the priorities or get them done in an unacceptable fashion.
It is probably a more painful existence than it should be, and more of an agony than it sounds. I'll bet it is possible for it to be much better.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
No Wonder Half of America is Drunk and the Rest on Drugs
OK, that is a stretch. I think half plus the rest equals everyone. There should be some allowance for those who are not drunk or on drugs. That probably covers a good 2% of the population. Most likely they are the most frustrated group, and the group least likely to hold public office or do anything which requires a lot of reading of government documents or listening to those who create them those who shuffle them.
Believe it or not, I actually have an uncommonly high reading retention ability. I do very well when it comes to reading something and catching the details, and recalling the details. I believe the truth of this is recorded somewhere on my Permanent Record, or in the Library of Congress. However, when it comes to government documents my brain fries.
That is how it is. I cannot stand reading any government document, sign, letter, nothing. Almost always, I either can't make sense of it, or the tone irritates me to the point where I dive into an irrational frenzy. This results in a poor reading experience and one not characterized by good recall of the material.
Part of the jury summons siad you could do the deed two weeks ahead of time or after. However, another part says if you don't show on the exact day that you have to contact them and reschedule, and to reschedule you have to pick a day not less than six weeks in the future and not more than six months in the future. What is the 2 weeks thing about? I have no idea and am unwilling to continue my path into the bowels of government rules and language to figure it out.
I'm cutting my losses. I called and talked to the nice machine lady, since the office people are only there from 9:52 AM until 3:25 PM. I did not make that up--9:52. It is on the machine that talks to you when you call.
It is one of those systems which asks you to say "yes", "Jury duty", "postponement", among other things. Then she says, "Let me see if I have this right; you said 'yada yada yada..' Is that correct?". Then you say yes or no and she says, "Did you answer yes?"
It took me less than an hour and fewer than ten times to the main menu to reschedule. I was not home and had no calendar, so I had to guess at a day six weeks from now which fell on whatever weekdays she said were acceptable. After a few tries I ended up being rescheduled for March 29th. I see now, looking at my icalendar on my ilaptop that March 29th is a Tuesday.
As much as I wanted to get this out of the way, I think I will just hope I don't have some big important thing going in late March. That talk of the two week option still bugs me, but I could tell when I re-read the jury letter today that I have not outgrown my complete abhorrence for the way government offices communicate with those they (erroneously) allegedly serve.
I was thinking, it is far easier to handle that world drunk or on drugs. It certainly was easier for me back when I was in circumstances run by nearby bureaucrats and things governmental. Another of life's little tricks. If I'd kept up my habits, I could accept these things with a more numb emotional aspect, but I'd have ended up under their care in some sort of institution, providing I survived. Then I'd have been stuck in the belly of the beast full time.
Yea. I think cutting my losses and leaving it the way Machine Lady negotiated things is the best move. She's probably as close to the A team as I'll find.
Believe it or not, I actually have an uncommonly high reading retention ability. I do very well when it comes to reading something and catching the details, and recalling the details. I believe the truth of this is recorded somewhere on my Permanent Record, or in the Library of Congress. However, when it comes to government documents my brain fries.
That is how it is. I cannot stand reading any government document, sign, letter, nothing. Almost always, I either can't make sense of it, or the tone irritates me to the point where I dive into an irrational frenzy. This results in a poor reading experience and one not characterized by good recall of the material.
Part of the jury summons siad you could do the deed two weeks ahead of time or after. However, another part says if you don't show on the exact day that you have to contact them and reschedule, and to reschedule you have to pick a day not less than six weeks in the future and not more than six months in the future. What is the 2 weeks thing about? I have no idea and am unwilling to continue my path into the bowels of government rules and language to figure it out.
I'm cutting my losses. I called and talked to the nice machine lady, since the office people are only there from 9:52 AM until 3:25 PM. I did not make that up--9:52. It is on the machine that talks to you when you call.
It is one of those systems which asks you to say "yes", "Jury duty", "postponement", among other things. Then she says, "Let me see if I have this right; you said 'yada yada yada..' Is that correct?". Then you say yes or no and she says, "Did you answer yes?"
It took me less than an hour and fewer than ten times to the main menu to reschedule. I was not home and had no calendar, so I had to guess at a day six weeks from now which fell on whatever weekdays she said were acceptable. After a few tries I ended up being rescheduled for March 29th. I see now, looking at my icalendar on my ilaptop that March 29th is a Tuesday.
As much as I wanted to get this out of the way, I think I will just hope I don't have some big important thing going in late March. That talk of the two week option still bugs me, but I could tell when I re-read the jury letter today that I have not outgrown my complete abhorrence for the way government offices communicate with those they (erroneously) allegedly serve.
I was thinking, it is far easier to handle that world drunk or on drugs. It certainly was easier for me back when I was in circumstances run by nearby bureaucrats and things governmental. Another of life's little tricks. If I'd kept up my habits, I could accept these things with a more numb emotional aspect, but I'd have ended up under their care in some sort of institution, providing I survived. Then I'd have been stuck in the belly of the beast full time.
Yea. I think cutting my losses and leaving it the way Machine Lady negotiated things is the best move. She's probably as close to the A team as I'll find.
Disorderly Sleep
It has been a thing of concern ever since I was in my early twenties. They even confined me to a sleep lab for a night one time. I gave up on testing soon after, so never went back.
Neurological things often don't fit into neat categories. You be surprised how little they know in many respects regarding brain function. Even the drugs prescribed are often not understood. They theorize regarding the mechanics of how they work, but half the stuff was designed for one thing then it was discovered they work well for some other symptom.
In my case they concluded it was some form of narcolepsy but not the classic type which makes you fall asleep in the middle of a game of pool or standing there talking to someone. It just sometimes happens so that I'd hit a strange kind of sleep at last minute and blow through alarm clocks by two to four hours, regardless of how long I'd been asleep already.
We went the ritalin deal on and off for years. The off part was because I got tired of it and felt almost like I developed and immunity to it. So, I'd lay off for maybe a year. I eventually lost contact with any doctor who knew the story so I had no source of it. It would be good once in awhile, but overall I'd rather just compensate some other way. Nothing is with some side effect.
When I was working a job that often required being there at 5 AM, sometimes earlier, I spent all night drinking water. A big glass before going to sleep so every couple of hours it was up to pee, then drink more. That has been the only really reliable method I found. No combination of alarm clocks and bright lights on timers ever proved dependable. You just never know.
Lately it hasn't been critical most of the time, and I have gone long stretches waking up with the sun. But more recently that has changed around a bit and the sleep thing is all over the map. I must not have drank enough water because I overshot the time I needed to be up to make jury duty. I'll try again tomorrow.
It gets old--trying to fit. The trick is to avoid letting the things that are tough to change or unchangeable, induce a reaction which becomes spiraling depression. Much of life is a series of subtle and not so subtle compensations. People tend to move away from their weaknesses whether they think about it or not. If you have a sore knee, you tend to take up the slack by letting the other one carry the load. It works in all kinds of ways. You can't add well in your head, yu do math on a calculater, your phone, whatever. That is compensating.
The trap is when you think you should be able to do a thing, or ought to do it a certain way that is not natural to you and you force yourself to do it the hard way. I have done a bunch of that. That's the kind of thing that makes you crazy. It is not so easy to sort out because life naturally demands doing a lot of things you don't want to do, but you have to. And most of the time you are glad you did whatever it is. Separating that from the directions which are simply not a fit is what separates the happy and successful from the riffraff like me.
At least I no longer wake up cursing and screaming at myself when I miss the mark. I spent many years letting the frustration turn into intense self hatred and rage. That is where the testing helped. Finally someone convinced me they could document the fact that it wasn't because I am stupid and weak. The tests covered a lot territory beyond a sleep lab because some other things going on were interrelated.
Fortunately the jury duty allows turning up any day within a two week window. Otherwise I would have to throw myself on the mercy of the court. Not the sort of mercy I would want to depend on.
Welcome to the fog where I dwell.
Neurological things often don't fit into neat categories. You be surprised how little they know in many respects regarding brain function. Even the drugs prescribed are often not understood. They theorize regarding the mechanics of how they work, but half the stuff was designed for one thing then it was discovered they work well for some other symptom.
In my case they concluded it was some form of narcolepsy but not the classic type which makes you fall asleep in the middle of a game of pool or standing there talking to someone. It just sometimes happens so that I'd hit a strange kind of sleep at last minute and blow through alarm clocks by two to four hours, regardless of how long I'd been asleep already.
We went the ritalin deal on and off for years. The off part was because I got tired of it and felt almost like I developed and immunity to it. So, I'd lay off for maybe a year. I eventually lost contact with any doctor who knew the story so I had no source of it. It would be good once in awhile, but overall I'd rather just compensate some other way. Nothing is with some side effect.
When I was working a job that often required being there at 5 AM, sometimes earlier, I spent all night drinking water. A big glass before going to sleep so every couple of hours it was up to pee, then drink more. That has been the only really reliable method I found. No combination of alarm clocks and bright lights on timers ever proved dependable. You just never know.
Lately it hasn't been critical most of the time, and I have gone long stretches waking up with the sun. But more recently that has changed around a bit and the sleep thing is all over the map. I must not have drank enough water because I overshot the time I needed to be up to make jury duty. I'll try again tomorrow.
It gets old--trying to fit. The trick is to avoid letting the things that are tough to change or unchangeable, induce a reaction which becomes spiraling depression. Much of life is a series of subtle and not so subtle compensations. People tend to move away from their weaknesses whether they think about it or not. If you have a sore knee, you tend to take up the slack by letting the other one carry the load. It works in all kinds of ways. You can't add well in your head, yu do math on a calculater, your phone, whatever. That is compensating.
The trap is when you think you should be able to do a thing, or ought to do it a certain way that is not natural to you and you force yourself to do it the hard way. I have done a bunch of that. That's the kind of thing that makes you crazy. It is not so easy to sort out because life naturally demands doing a lot of things you don't want to do, but you have to. And most of the time you are glad you did whatever it is. Separating that from the directions which are simply not a fit is what separates the happy and successful from the riffraff like me.
At least I no longer wake up cursing and screaming at myself when I miss the mark. I spent many years letting the frustration turn into intense self hatred and rage. That is where the testing helped. Finally someone convinced me they could document the fact that it wasn't because I am stupid and weak. The tests covered a lot territory beyond a sleep lab because some other things going on were interrelated.
Fortunately the jury duty allows turning up any day within a two week window. Otherwise I would have to throw myself on the mercy of the court. Not the sort of mercy I would want to depend on.
Welcome to the fog where I dwell.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Mysteries from Somewhere Other
After seeing Interstate 60, the movie, I am wondering what this I-59 situation is. As far as I know there is no I-60.
Maybe no I-59
It would have to be a north-south thoroughfare.
Also, I am not sure who sent this. I have an idea, but I could be wrong.
So, this could mean I am being drawn to a mystic highway by a ghost or other force from another dimension.
When you live as I do, you seek drama wherever there is a drop or two to be squeezed out.
Cool card, don't you think? I thought so.
I guess it doesn't matter where it comes from, as long as it isn't like getting a horse's head. Don't they do that when the mob is going to waste you?
See, the drama thing again. Oh good my life is getting interesting; they've put a contract out on me. You know you need to step up the game when you find yourself thinking like that.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Hulu.com Movie Review; volume 60 and 61
Interstate 60 is a movie I liked.
They did not call it The Sixty. Nope, it was "interstate sixty".
That was not the only reason I liked it.
It was funny, surreal, silly, and kind of magical. Overall, enjoyable and uplifting.
That's it.
Also the surfing documentary "Bustin' Down the Door" is very good. And it is the real deal.
This tells the tale of how surfing became a professional sport with some money attached.
The Aussies and South Africans hit Hawaii and surfing would never be the same. They tended to rub the locals the wrong way, but their realization that they had to be brash to get noticed, and crazy good surfers to back it up eventually paid off.
It is the sort of documentary that holds my interest.
Bitchin flick
They did not call it The Sixty. Nope, it was "interstate sixty".
That was not the only reason I liked it.
It was funny, surreal, silly, and kind of magical. Overall, enjoyable and uplifting.
That's it.
Also the surfing documentary "Bustin' Down the Door" is very good. And it is the real deal.
This tells the tale of how surfing became a professional sport with some money attached.
The Aussies and South Africans hit Hawaii and surfing would never be the same. They tended to rub the locals the wrong way, but their realization that they had to be brash to get noticed, and crazy good surfers to back it up eventually paid off.
It is the sort of documentary that holds my interest.
Bitchin flick
Time Flies
So, I had a birthday.
Usually I try to keep it low key and am fine with it if no one notices or says a word. This year I was not sure I was prepared to face my reality. Old and not famous or rich or even a minor patriarch. Boo hoo.
Then it dawned on me: it is simply not in my organic being to grow up. I can be responsible and not childish as far as petty jealousy and such, but the air of the grown up and the restrictions that carries are foreign to my being. Most of my difficulties in life have come from trying to fight that truth.
Maybe now I will no longer attempt to fit a mold that will never work.
We had practice last night and the band surprised me with cake, decorations, a 2 disc set of Bob Marley's last concert, recorded live, parrot coffee, and a toy guitar that looks like it ought to be from the Barbi collection.
A pink guitar with that wang bar or whatever it is called. It has buttons on the neck that play notes, and it plays some prerecorded songs. When you hit the bar a valley girl says things like, "Rock on!" and "Whatever!".
My favorite is when she says "whatever".
So I am now a guitar god with my mini Barbi Strat.
When friends go to such trouble for you and manage to make you laugh like that, it is hard not to feel pretty good and forget the complaints about how you could have been a contender. Maybe I am where I ought to be, and not so far off of who I am supposed to be.
Considering that I expected a sudden death many many years ago from the consequences of driving cars upside down, and hanging in areas where people like to shoot guns, this is all gravy.
Last night was a great time and I thoroughly enjoyed feeling special. I marvel at the trouble people sometimes go to in order to let others know they are OK and mean something. Despite anything else that goes on, there is a lot of good in the human race.
Usually I try to keep it low key and am fine with it if no one notices or says a word. This year I was not sure I was prepared to face my reality. Old and not famous or rich or even a minor patriarch. Boo hoo.
Then it dawned on me: it is simply not in my organic being to grow up. I can be responsible and not childish as far as petty jealousy and such, but the air of the grown up and the restrictions that carries are foreign to my being. Most of my difficulties in life have come from trying to fight that truth.
Maybe now I will no longer attempt to fit a mold that will never work.
We had practice last night and the band surprised me with cake, decorations, a 2 disc set of Bob Marley's last concert, recorded live, parrot coffee, and a toy guitar that looks like it ought to be from the Barbi collection.
A pink guitar with that wang bar or whatever it is called. It has buttons on the neck that play notes, and it plays some prerecorded songs. When you hit the bar a valley girl says things like, "Rock on!" and "Whatever!".
My favorite is when she says "whatever".
So I am now a guitar god with my mini Barbi Strat.
When friends go to such trouble for you and manage to make you laugh like that, it is hard not to feel pretty good and forget the complaints about how you could have been a contender. Maybe I am where I ought to be, and not so far off of who I am supposed to be.
Considering that I expected a sudden death many many years ago from the consequences of driving cars upside down, and hanging in areas where people like to shoot guns, this is all gravy.
Last night was a great time and I thoroughly enjoyed feeling special. I marvel at the trouble people sometimes go to in order to let others know they are OK and mean something. Despite anything else that goes on, there is a lot of good in the human race.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
100 pages + and holding
No question about it--I have to get back to work on my story. I haven't lost interest by any means. There was one minor thing I needed to decide and it wasn't even part of the main course of the thing. But it is a part I want in there, and want it to be right because it matters to me.
Can't just leave you thinking a certain set of characters are no count slackers. The main characters don't mind because they are like me. But the other people I'm concerned with need to be shown some dignity.
Have to work and have other obligations but at night I could get to it. Besides, night is when I always find it easiest to do most things. And my deadline is not as distant as it was. Time just whistles by when you aren't paying attention. But when you get in the zone, whether it is playing music, writing, or running with a football, time ceases to have the same measure. It can stand still, or slow down or disappear until you return to normalcy.
Sometimes time stands still for me but when I get back to regular awareness I realize a big chunk of it went by for everyone else. Then there are times when it seemed I was gone for hours in some zone, only to find maybe a minute or less went by in the world as we know it.
Can't just leave you thinking a certain set of characters are no count slackers. The main characters don't mind because they are like me. But the other people I'm concerned with need to be shown some dignity.
Have to work and have other obligations but at night I could get to it. Besides, night is when I always find it easiest to do most things. And my deadline is not as distant as it was. Time just whistles by when you aren't paying attention. But when you get in the zone, whether it is playing music, writing, or running with a football, time ceases to have the same measure. It can stand still, or slow down or disappear until you return to normalcy.
Sometimes time stands still for me but when I get back to regular awareness I realize a big chunk of it went by for everyone else. Then there are times when it seemed I was gone for hours in some zone, only to find maybe a minute or less went by in the world as we know it.
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About Me
- John0 Juanderlust
- Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
- Like spring on a summer's day
