coast to coast

My connection is off and on it is not the best environment for a computer.

I'm in Frisco, in the Outer Banks of NC, heading down to the ferry to Ocracoke in a bit.

Nice ocean out here. I always liked this general area but have never been so far down the banks. It is still my favorite beach I think.

Too slow on upload to fool with pics at the moment. Not that you care, but I like to put them up anyway.

The stars were quite visible and vivid last night. Good navigation aid. I located the north star just in case life gets confusing. For the first time ever I tried the small unused tent. It set up quick and works OK. Made in China where they tend to make marginally functional zippers and design the rain fly for only a drizzle. It didn't rain.

If I find a place I like further south I will set up larger digs and hang a few days. Or I may come back up to this spot. Definitely a good area for sunscreen and mosquito sticks.

Short review: the mosquito sticks from Walmart work well out here.

The Tour mobile is serving well and I am quite grateful to it and for it.

the end

good times on the road: Your House Review

Perhaps meditation works.

While enjoying the hospitality of Photo Lady, my last downstairs neighbor in Memphis, I had time to relax and be alone. Eventually, in a state of out of body calm, I realized I should continue east to NC.

I arrived in Greensboro yesterday. Saturday morning, I guess. My old friend, Joel helped me set up camp at Hagan Stone Park south of town. He's not set up for temporary roommates at the moment. I wouldn't change a thing. This is a good place for tent life and I'm glad to be here.

We saw Dave, my all time favorite drummer last night. It was a long day and I got lost on the way back to the park late last night. It turned out to only be a detour because I found home shortly before midnight.

We had a tasty meal at a diner named Your House. Like hell, it is. They will not take a debit card. I do not do credit. OK. We had cash, but the attitude toward this policy was mildly offensive so I agreed with my friend that a scathing review was in order. What made matters worse was that the food was good, and I was plenty hungry. Which bring me to some CSR tips.

Do not say to a patron, "I cain't believe you ate all that." Or when the subject of the card comes up and you say, maybe they ought to rethink that policy, don't roll your eyes and say, Yea, right". We were not only polite but the best looking and most famous people in the place. I don't think they know who I am!

So, if you go to Your House, which is not my house and probably not yours either, pay in pennies and tell them it is for refusing a perfectly acceptable alternative means of exchange.

While I'm at it: If your are grossly obese, as is your mate of dubious gender and species, don't go to a quiet wooded area where people pitch tents, play your radio way loud, sing along from time to time, and leave your fire untended. Your arguing is OK. It portends the marvelous prospect that you may kill each other.

Also, when you get tired of singing Free bird and decide o listen to NASCAR on radio, do you have to add to the commentary? And when you go to bed do you have to keep the race on even though your snoring sounds like a bull moose in heat?

Seriously, the McFatenlouds set up camp at the next place over from me and seem to fear quiet like the plague. It seemed futile to tell them to shut up. Besides the alleged female of the pair looks mean enough and big enough to be dangerous. The only words I heard which resembled any language I know were from her yelling at her husband regarding his lack of some sort of awareness after $%^&* thirty one years of marriage. Something about underestimating her. I doubt it was in reference to her weight or ability to make paint peel with a look or word.

Other conversation seemed to consist of a private language which sounded like, "Gitchumcainerrumpa, gurroh? Yebbadinassoh." I ruled out he missing link to explain this pair. Just don't think the material is there supply any evolutionary building blocks. Another reason I opted not to discuss their noise. That damned race is still screaming from the boom box in the tent. The snoring stopped though. I do not want to imagine the scene inside that dwelling. I feel better that the tent is large, which I guess necessity dictates.

But don't think I am not enjoying myself. I am. Joel came out here and enjoyed some of my Cuban coffee today and we had great discussions about whatever crossed our ADD minds. He's a wealth of knowledge and you can't have these discussions with just anyone. We hardly touched on political matters at all. That may surprise some who think I discuss everything I write about. I'm just a freedom lover, that's all.

I saw some videos of my friend playing bass, and I should say, Joel is a purely natural and highly funky player. He hasn't been playing all that long, but he's surpassed many who have been at it since they were kids. It's an obvious talent.

We also saw the owner of Somewhere Else and I endured bear hugs. That's where Dave the drummer was doing sound. For a small tavern they have first class sound and stage. What a waste. The band was playing angry white boy music. The singer's favorite lick is an extended sound reminiscent of that which I used to make when I used to drink and found myself hugging the toilet for hours, sure I would soon upchuck my entire stomach and other organs.

I'd hate to have an 18 year old child who was into self mutilation. That appeared to be the standard of the crowd there. Some of that stuff cannot be undone. Oh well. Not my kids. I guess peer pressure and baby boomer parents without any gumption yield bizarre and unpleasant results.

Good God!! Now the race car radio is playing some preacher. These people are nuts. I think they just can't take silence. I'll bet they'd leave it on if it were in Latin or Japanese--just to avoid being alone with their version of thoughts. And to avoid talking to one another.

Being attacked by bugs out here.

The end.

Not CEO material

Have I ever been more indecisive? Possibly not. I don't recall and do not want to commit to an answer. After all, I could be wrong.

First, I'm going to NC, then to Texas, then not, then yes, no, yes, no, maybe.

My concern is that I will go to TX and not want to go east, but instead up to CO, New Mex, etc. And I may do just that. But then will I forever regret not going east and seeing people and things there while I was so close?

That's the deal. I know I have to do something. Tomorrow I either go east or west. South is out--no way I care to hit New Orleans. It just does not appeal to me. Especially considering my sketching lodging plans.

This is all very strange. I will figure it out sooner or later.

Testing, and Where to What?

So, the overwhelmed Memphis Apple store turned it around in 24 hours. They couldn't fix the key between 8 and 0. He said they'd have to replace the keyboard for some reason, so I opted to keep it taped in place and buy an external keyboard. I also bought a new battery which has been on the list for more than a year.

Big storm warnings in the area. The warning sirens wailing, the whole bit. It looks like the biggest tornado risk may be a mile or two north of here.

Just spotted tornado in midtown
Heading to basement.

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The above wouldn't publish but it saved. Did not end up in basement. The funnel cloud was spotted near enough to here but it did not evolve into anything serious.

I'm torn between directions of travel. Weather forecast indicates hot hot hot for just about everywhere south of Montana. The NC benefit is not going to be peopled by those I thought were playing, and sounds like a bust from my perspective. But from my perspective, I can't see the forest for the trees, can't remember why I wanted to take this trip, and can't see the point of any of this.
I assume that will pass. Maybe more than 24 hours in Memphis is a lifetime too much.

It is cloudy and rainy looking again. I guess I'll get to Dallas by Saturday. Finally heard back from cousins there,
The big question is whether to go east then come back through Texas. The thing is, I'd hoped for a return trip far to the north of that.

There are places east I want to go, but I have no love or longing for the places along the way. No desire to do much in the southeast any more. It's not the people just me and my lack of love for much of the past that places represent. I've lost my affection for dripping humid heat.

I guess, since I've never seen Austin, and need to see my Aunt, Texas has to be the next stop. Backtracking is against the grain, but what can you do?

Song of the South in Mississippi

My computer is in the shop in Memphis. It may be an item which they will do for free. It is, they say.

They have the part. Just waiting for genius person to put it in. I offered to do it myself but they strongly urged, NO!!!

OK. At photoLady's. Same house where I used to live. My old apt is empty and the place is for sale.

Good to have lodging.

Something about this town makes me angry. Just driving from Mac store to here seemed to get under my skin. I know is is much me. I have no reason to be mad but this city just does that to me. I very much do not want to live or die in Memphis.

Whether it is the hot humid air or the fact that a huge percentage of the population is not only dumber than a rock but wildly psychotic. I mean a HUGE percentage. The rest just pretend it is all dandy. Not saying there aren't many swell and wonderful people here. There are. Just saying there is an intangible force in this place which makes me angry, on fire with undefined rage, and feel like I'm fighting for my life. And losing.

The Hill country harp fest was very well done.
It rained but I stayed dry.

Sugar Blue and his band were On Fire. They were hot hot hot. SB looked younger than in recent videos. He has a nice personality and good humor.

There were a lot of nice people there, and many very good players.

I'm on borrowed time--not my computer.

Not sure what is next. Trying to contact relatives but have just now emailed. Other relatives have been no help in this lost Texas contact.
Some of that determines where to from here, when my mac is back.

Keep my old friend from long ago who plays sax in your thoughts. He broke his neck and is due to be laid up awhile.
They are doing a benefit in NC, Clemmons, I believe. People I jammed with in the 80's. At least a few of them.
I'd like to play it too, but do not know if that will happen. They should do more than one benefit. He'll need the help and all else, I'm guessing.

So, best of recovery to Dwayne L.

Plan Z2

OK. Come heck or high water I am out of here Monday night. Then a day in eastern AZ. Then 3 days to drive to MS for the blues harp festival, providing it is not under water. Then back to Texas, then we shall see. I expect to head east agin, then eventually west. The one place not on the list is Bumble Bee, AZ. That is where I encountered the cuchacabra a few years ago. Did I spell that right? Believe me I did not stick around and ask about spelling when its fearsome head caught my eye.

Maybe it is Chupacabra. Whatever it is, the only time people talk about them is on Coast to Coast AM radio with George Noory or Art Bell.

I lived to tell about it and to avoid the endless dirt road to Bumble Bee.

a blast from the past

PS: I'm bringing the last of the Howling Wolf spice rub with me. Great on potatoes or on cheese, lettuce, tomato and mayo sandwiches, on wheat toast. The stuff is incredible and a little goes a long way--otherwise I'd already be out.

Strange Days:part 515

Mental blocks are sometimes treated with drugs or diagnoses of various types. That approach s the luxury of those who can carry their issue to well paid professionals. If that luxury is out of one's grasp, the best thing is to realize that the block is mental, and that means you have to fight through it.

I thought I put up a post a day or so ago and now it is gone. Maybe I imagined it.

I have coolers and other things now, found that Target is best for cheap gear, WalMart's selection is wanting. Cheap is how we role in this realm.

Maybe I can get the massive mess, that is the manifestation of my mental block, under control in time for an almost on time departure. It is working on me and actually causes shallow breathing and internal panic. That is unacceptable. No way for a brave man to be. I'll retreat into a calming trance and down a ton of Cuban coffee and bull through it.

Half of the purpose of this trip is to force me to confront things which my self imposed stagnation has allowed to become unmanageable and unmanaged.

If you really begin dropping out of life in an unhealthy way at an early age, it can carry over for decades. For some it takes longer to confront the internal lies, regardless of who is at fault for them being there, than for others. Like always, I probably have everything I need and find it difficult to accept this. The rest is just confusing work. Organizing and de-trashing is very complex for someone like me.

boohoo. OK. Whining is over for now. Luckily I don't have a flood to deal with. Cleaning up after a house is flooded would be a real challenge. I could probably clean up someone else's mess, for pay. But my own, it is as if I am looking at an unfamiliar planet and haven't a clue what to do. That is obviously a mental issue which is internally based on completely wrong premises.

Burning Bridges/Squeezing the Most out of Last Minute Prep

*****Phantom post returned. Here it is*****


I'm working tomorrow but bringing an instruction sheet for the people who will do what I do in my absence. The won't do repair work, just the regular things when people come in and when they leave.

The housekeeper's son and his pal often help her and they do good work. Maybe 18 or 20 years old. My nine button is messed up so I could not numerically list the in between age. I refuse to spell it out on principle of some kind.

I've told people I'm going to be out of here, so I have to go. That's the burning bridges part. No real or long term metaphorical bridges will be burned. Even though the landlord has placed this estate on the market. It is not possible due to various rules and regs to split out the cabin part. Otherwise, I might attempt to find a way to buy it.

If they sell while I'm gone, they'll know how t reach me. For their sake, I hope the sell. For mine, I'd rather the didn't. It may be more important to them than to me so I can't wish too hard for no buyers. In this market, it is very very tough. Especially out here with SDGE decimating Alpine business with their construction, uncertainty over the Powerlink scam, etc. Values have dropped to about 50% of their value in just a few years, and few are selling even at that. Great time to buy in East County.

Cheapo camping hint--there is more available for good prices at Target in this area than at WalMart. I don't go very high end with this stuff. And Target is the only one with the affordable airmattress with pump included. Better prices on coolers too. The 5 day jobs were all too big at both places so I went for convenient size that was on sale, included a tiny baby cooler inside plus a 20 pack of Coke.

Still skeptical of the Mississippi festival but I will pay about the time I leave if all looks like it is still a go. There are bound to be a lot of mosquitos if the wind is out of the west there, I have sticks that you burn to keep them at bay.

It sure takes me forver to start on things like this. A normal person would have spent the last month chipping away at the things that need doing, like leaving the house organized, etc. Guess I lack in the normal department.

Premonitions

Ever feel like you ought to state a premonition, just in case? So, then, it will make sense if it al panned out? I have, but I think it is a bad idea.

Best just to take things as they come and forget such hocus pocus.

Still Wonder What Synthetic Oil Is Made Of

The say it is better, and maybe it is. If it is not regular oil made from crude, I wonder how it is made. Someone ma have told the answer but I didn't remember it. Probably did not really make sense to me at the time.

I'll be using synthetic oil for my not so synthetic journey. I got rid of my old oil at WalMart. It is hard to find places that will take it and not charge you for that. WalMart makes it known that they are the place to go for that. What gets me is that the want you to sign a sheet with you name, address, and signature.

I realized, from past experience, that they do not check ID, so this time I signed in as J Pastorius from Alpine. Next time I'll be Stephen Hawking, although I need to check to see if he uses the ph or a v. Eventually I'll use names like Spiro Agnew and Wally Cleaver.

Why do they need you to sign? It isn't as if they can determine which of the oil in the dump tank was mine. Probably they originally thought it would be a good source for mailing lists, but you can tell they are not making use of it. I gave no street address for J, as in Jocko, Pastorius.

The tour should begin in a few days. How it will proceed, and where it will take me are variable factors. Those things are just not carved in stone. We'll see what happens. As time goes on the importance of things have changed. What I thought was the purpose has changed. It makes more sense. Because it is personal to me, there is no need to justify the why and all that. Doing that kills the idea. It is clear there are matters to be worked out and lessons to be learned.

I look forward to finally getting this car unloaded because it has been packed with junk and work related paraphernalia for years. The things that will travel with me are mostly light weight and functional. I always bring some tools and items that would serve in case of emergency. Of course the machete will be on board. It is a useful tool and has been used in the past for cutting sticks or chopping brush to put under tires for traction or just as an accessory which makes the riffraff think I am too crazy to bother.

Maybe I'll wait until Texas to get a haircut. The only good haircut here is expensive and way over at the coast. I don't trust any of the fairly priced haircutters any more. I could cut hair better than them, but it is tough to effectively cut your own hair. The need has reached near crisis level. It is just not good style at the moment, and a man of my stature can't go around looking like the unwashed masses.

In the mean time I could slick it back with some synthetic oil.