Everyone Must Do This

My lack of home A/C has now become a matter which is impossible to ignore. I know that anyone reading this must be somewhat of a humanitarian at heart, so I must appeal to your sympathy and your probable Bolshevik sense of fair play.

What I'd like everyone to do is to box up the cold air from your refrigerators and send it to East County, San Diego. Also run your air conditioning at max cold, High speed, and open your doors and windows, especially if you live west of the Mississippi. I think the cooling will make its way to Ballistic Mountain, and I will, once again, be able to wear clothes without burning up with fever and drenching them with copious amounts of vile sweat.

Thank you. It is only fair. Spread your wealth of cool air.

As Planned, played Crest Comm. Ctr. on way home

The target time of arrival into Crest, a community out here in East County, and on my home from this trip, was 7PM. I arrived at 7 PM. even though I got lost in this town which is less populated than the high school from which I graduated.

We were one of four acts playing, and were the last ones to play. First each group played a short set, the they had a break, then each one played about 15 minutes. I haven't practiced with the group in awhile, and I haven't played much in a few weeks. It worked out OK.

The second set almost warmed me up. They chose things that give me a lot of leeway and I was in need of that. It is like a nutrient that my mind and body crave; being able to let go and float in the air for a minute or two. That is partly how it feels to play that way. In any case I had a blast that last fifteen minutes, and I think it came through.

What a great way to end a trip.

Being a neighborhood band, my landlords know the others. There was some kind of neighborhood meeting today with the fire people or the power company or someone, so they knew about this event. They showed up to see us. I hope they liked it and don't raise the rent or kick me out for being a disappointment.

It has been ultra hot here, just like it has in regions north.


***I even shaved before hitting town. Maybe I care more than I thought

I look forward to playing the various practices and open mics that have become part of my regular routine.

There is work on the near horizon, and a new found passion for some other projects. I'm a lucky enough guy, I'd say. The warm reception from the CopperCreek bandmates was almost a tear jerker. It is nice to know when people miss having me around. I'm such a sap.

Gig at Crest; guess it is time to shave

On the road I tend to skip shaving for days at a time. I found that the whiskers grow faster as I get older. It is time. It is past that hip hollywood shadow point.

So, I'll roll into town in time to play, and probably in time to set up if we have any equipment on site. Better remind K to bring my microphone.

What is with this heat? Parts of CA are well over 100deg. F. It is amazing that my trusty tent is perfectly comfortable at night with these two battery powered fans I ordered from campmor.com for not much money at all.

The Kelty tent was definitely a good purchase at the sale price. Sets up very quick and it is easy to deal with. Good thing I made off with some food from the family event. Lots of people loaded up since there was so much left over. I would have taken more but I was a little slow on the grab. My lovely sister in law, and my nephew made sure I didn't leave empty handed. Why my sis in law looks out for me like she does is a mystery. You'd think I've been an upstanding family member all these years. I haven't, but she always acts like I'm OK. I certainly do admire how she held the threads together despite the dysfunction which plagued us all early on.

It is an odd life but sometimes I like hanging out in a box made of thin fabric, sleeping on an air mattress. At many points along the way I would have thought the idea the dumbest thing imaginable. Now I appreciate the incommunicado aspect.

I'm about ready to go home.

Things I've learned So Far on this Tour

I learned that I can be chased by bad loneliness if I am not careful. I've altered my original plan regarding route just because it seemed like it would be easier to stave off the blues if I did so.

I learned that my family and their various extended families by in-law connection tend to drink a lot. It bores me and makes the closeness not so close in festive settings. But for that same reason, I learned that when key things come up I am able to take care of it. They rarely even realize I saved them big trouble. Sometimes the do.

I'm not sorry I don't have to have alcohol every time I'm around people.

I'm playing the Crest Community Center on Sat. night, so I'll be back by then. I may just time it so I go there on the way home.

I like swimming in rivers and sailing off of rope swings.

In spite of all, I learned that I have a rather accomplished family--no need to worry about them in most ways--, and that brings a sense of comfort that they are doing well, and a sense of failure on my part. I realize that I blew it early on. I could yet feel better about things depending on what I do and how I do it. I also realize that relying on the estimation or approval of others, and doubting myself have been key elements in letting good things pass me by. Oh well. Life is far better than it was not long ago, and it continues.

But I'm the only one who ever had any ideas patented. But I didn't know how to play it so great, it worked and I let millions slide due to my bewilderment at corrupt business and government. Still, I know.

I want that perfect ballistic babe to join me for the duration of the tour (the Big Tour, Life, not this road trip). Surely this will come to pass. On a good day I'm decent company.

Finally A Sane Parent In An Ad On TV

The image of the dad and kids in TV commercials is not generally flattering.

Dad is a total dimwit who is desperate for his kids' approval. The kids are disrespectful little brats. Unfortunately life too often imitates TV. I won't say art in this case. Plus I believe art reflects life. TV tends to set trends.

Enter, finally, an ad in which the dad is exactly how a dad should be. I offer the Ballistic Tour Best Dad in a TV Advertisement Award to the guy in the Geico advertisement who got his kids a 'possum instead of a puppy to save money. And when the thing hisses at the kids he doesn't blink an eye.

Whoever created and approved that ad has done America a service. If you are one of those people who gets wrapped up in the whole role model thing, there you go. If you know any young fathers, steer them toward the 'possum pop as their role model. We'll all be better for it.

I hope it sets a trend. There are many kids who don't deserve a puppy, and many families who cannot reasonably afford a dog; or kids for that matter.

I Heart Misty and Kerri

Somewhere in CA I am availing myself of AC and watching some Olympics. I've never seen the kind of heart displayed by the US women's Volley ball pair. They narrowly defeated the Chinese and they overcame a sizable lead by the opponents.

Correct or not, I hate it when communist countries' athletes win anything. It gives their police state way of things an air of credibility which is sickening to me.

Those two women are unbelievable. Apparently the other American pair--don't know the names--are exceptional as well. I think they are a younger pair.

The cool thing is that those are the two teams to make the finals. I guess that means the USA wins that medal no matter what. Good.

Every time I travel it amazes me what a great land this is. It also puzzles me that people often don't get it. That strain of something that makes our species want to go extinct. Odd.

I've had ample opportunity to see "Your Tax Dollars At Work". I know because they have signs telling me so, just in case it is not clear to me.

They say the fines are doubled in work zones. I noticed a couple of work zones marked off but no clue regarding what work was being done. I suspect it was merely a speed trap which would result in double the ticket cost. I slowed down.

I had no interest in seeing the olympics, but then I caught some of Phelps kicking foreign butt in one event or another and I couldn't help myself. That guy has it made, and he has to be doing something right to have been such a major force for so long. I love seeing people succeed in exceptional fashion.

I do find it odd that the red China team wears blue, and the USA team was in red. Probably my paranoia concerning totalitarian states that tempers many of my observations and emotional reactions. It must have started with that tyrant Mrs. Anderson in kindergarten, reinforced by that sadistic, evil killer of the human spirit, Mrs. Marshall in 1st grade. Fortunately there were some fine teachers after that who convinced me that only 56% percent of teachers work for the devil.

Live From Oregon

Somewhere outside of Eugene, I am resting the night and regrouping after an intensively festive and recreational three day wedding celebration. Observing the way one's extended family grows in size and quirkiness through marriages and offspring is interesting.

What amazed me as much as the fact that my nephew and his wife have so many friends and family who would travel, some with children, all the way from Miami, Maryland, Wisconsin, Ohio, Texas, Seattle--the happy couple's home, and elsewhere just to celebrate this event, was the way that so many of the close to one hundred people pitched in to prepare food, manage games, clean up, and generally do the work that something like this involves.

There was a main building which housed a kitchen that reminded me of the big mess hall kitchens in which I preformed KP in basic training. It was a huge affair with a slot in the wall where people could put dirty dishes, an industrial dishwasher (clipper), and many freezers and refrigerators. Big ones.

This wasn't a weekend of easy picnic food. It was real food and I never saw a paper plate or plastic fork. I even ran the dishwashing part a time or two--usually when the majority of able bodied folks were three sheets to the wind and conversations involving more than one sentence by the participants were next to impossible to conduct. Not that everyone was drunk. Some were off in remote tents renewing or deepening their knowledge--or so I guess.

We went into the river which was not too deep, floated down, availed ourselves of a rope swing, then made the challenging journey back upstream. I managed to hang in OK with the thirty-somethings. The friends and the new bride and groom are early thirties people. That is the best decade of life until you reach maybe sixty.

Some of the kids, particularly one, in the bride's extended family were enough to give one hope for the future. 5 1/2 year old Riley was the nicest, most articulate, bright kid I've ever seen at that age. If his mother was single, I'd marry her just because her kid is so cool. She was kind of cute, too, but --- that damned ring is to me like an electric fence to a sensitive farm animal.

My brother was in rare form the whole time. He and his wife made the food and whatnot run on Friday to stock the place--about fifty miles to the Costco in Eugene. I followed them to bring back frozen pizzas the the starving first arrivals while they went shopping for everything on the phone book sized list. They ended up having to leave Costco when it closed and get other items at the all night Walmart. I guess they don't care if they sell Chinese goods, however I doubt and of the Walmart food comes from Bejing. My people rarely boycott if the price is right.

I made it back by about 8 PM. They made it back about midnight. I must admit, I was the first to start worrying. There was no cell reception so I was going to drive the five or ten miles into the phone zone and check up on them. Just as I was starting to leave my other nephew's in-laws were heading out to the house in a "nearby" town which my brother, they and oldest nephew, wife and baby were renting for this affair. Oh boy, is that little baby girl cute or what? At Christmas you couldn't tell, but she's turned out top be a little brown baby; brown hair, dark eyes, and tans easily I guess. Looks like my nephews did way back when. In Miami, people always thought they were little Cuban boys.

I was the first one on the site by thirty minutes, so I pitched my tent in a place that was shady most of the time. Then young nephew clued me in about the two rooms in the huge A-frame log building where the kitchen and dining hall take the first floor. We never ate in there. There was a big basketball court which had a roof but no sides. It was filled with picnic type tables dragged from all over the property. At one point I silently noted in total political incorrectness that this had to be a predominately white event. Other games may have been played, but few, if any had any interest in shooting hoops. I only saw one person try to make a basket, and he missed from about five feet out.

Many engineers were there. Young nephew is one and so are some of his friends, and my brother the ex-pilot, paleontologist, has a degree in engineering. There were others too. This made some of the solutions to various logistical matters interesting when three or more would get together and out complicate one another until some walked up and did the obvious simple thing.

If I still drank, I'd have been in trouble. No way to run out of beer or any of a variety of liquor options. They took no chances. Even so, I did not see anyone make a big scene or embarrass themselves drastically. It did look like one or two couples may have been in conflict, mostly the female mad at the male, but I could be wrong. Not much of that, considering the number of people.

Oh, so I never did sleep in my tent. It did look nice sitting there. I could see it from my window. My room up in the A-frame has three free-standing bunks/cots with one equipped with two of those foam pads stacked. It was great. There was a bathroom with a shower across the little hall between the two rooms up there. And only one night was the other room occupied. I had the best accommodations in the park.

There were wooded paths that opened into meadows where some set tents. There were also some shelters with one side open by the river, and a few other similar type places which had bunks off in the trees. Many of those places were secluded enough that I have no idea who was where. The main area would be loaded with people, then people would hang around the big fire pit until late, and they just faded into the night and there they were again the next day.

Music played through someone's PA in the basketball place, hooked into various person's song lists running through a mac laptop. Someone had great taste in tunes and knew what to play when. Obviously one or two lists were put there by fine R&B fans. It was an eclectic mix overall.

Well, no one is crazy enough to read all of this. But it is good for me to put it down.

I have to say, just watching and paying attention to things at his gave me food for thought. Being family, and due to my odd history, I often find family hits some nerves, or I feel guilty or who knows what it is, but it is clear that my brother has become one extremely nice and entertaining person. He got on well with the most stuffy of people, and with the loosest, falling down reprobates.

The little things that the couple did to prepare were impressive. They made name tags out of discs of wood cut from three inch diameter logs, and she wood burned names on all of them, then a clasp pin was clued to the back. The young bride must have had to burn the name John twenty times. I was by no means the only John there. It was clearly the most common name in the hood. They looked good, those tags, and people liked them well enough that they wore them.
I left there very proud to be blood related to him and my nephews and related by association to there spouses. People like that don't grow on trees. Rarely, anyway.

We Fight It With Popcorn

A graph of my condition would look much like a sine wave. Up we go, and back to neutral, then down we go then back up to neutral, and on and on. The good thing is that the period of the cycle is much longer these days, and the curve is a much shallower one.

I think that one day, before I die, it will be as shallow as the rhythms of people who are in the healthier range. I would say , "normal", but I am not so sure that healthy and normal are synonymous.

The disturbing part about the crest of the negative loop of the curve is that it finds me in a state where doing anything but reading, writing, or driving makes me almost unbearably sad. I know it is not real, and I constantly try to avoid acknowledging the feeling. Sometimes being in touch with feelings is not a good thing, not healthy, and certainly no fun. A lot of the stuff that is out there on the subject is pure bunk.

I'm able to get to work as needed, but it is like trying to chop wood in a tank of mud ten feet deep. If you've ever chopped wood in such a setting, you know the feeling. It doesn't even have to be thick mud for it to be quite a nuisance.

This is the main reason I've let the ones get away who got away. Even though the down side of the curve brings on feelings of loneliness, being around friends or anyone makes it worse. It is too much strain to carry on face to face conversations.

So, I soothe the want-to-crawl-out-of-skin fits with diversions like watching shows or movies on HULU, reading whatever, or driving to the water machine to fill up the water bottles.

All the while during this, I try to find a way to trick myself into doing something worthwhile, like get packed and on the road for this trip. Again I am writing way ahead of when it will show up.

One day I hope to find more ways to compensate so I won't feel guilty when a swell woman shows interest. In the past there has been a strong force whose motto was, "I like her too much to let her be saddled with this", pointing to myself. And invariably I forfeited something I valued through pure neglect. I'm not sure I did the wrong thing, but maybe I did.

Many women are highly attracted to trouble and the impossible, so they do sometimes seem interested. Not as many as those who seek money and power, but they are out there. Women love power whether anyone admits it or not. And power can be found in many forms. But the need is set in nature. It is not bad. Men need nurture and some kind of reinforcement.

We pretend nature is not real, but it is. So are the blues.

When the downer thing seems like it is beginning to get too far out of control, my solution is to make a big bowl of popcorn, like I did a minute ago. It's a good weapon against full tilt bonkers blues lunacy. Eat popcorn and say to myself, "It is going to be OK. It is OK".

Catching things before they go too far is essential. I've been over that edge, down in the pit, and when I see it coming, I bring out the popcorn and any other weapon I can dream up. No way I'm going back to that. I pity people who have this and drink a lot because alcohol only fuels depression in the long run. Besides it is a highly potent gateway drug which is often involved when people have sex with people or items that are inappropriate and disgusting. Alcohol is way more of a gateway drug than pot. Amazing the misinformation on that subject. Some people do well with it. Not talking about them.

I know there are others who have similar struggle, but I haven't met many. I do know it is not one of those "we all feel that way sometimes" issues. Like many things which are extreme, it can probably be used to advantage. In my case the manic is rarely very energetic. Mostly it is about up to normal motivation and energy level. Well, maybe once I get rolling it goes beyond that.

Now I feel a little better. I'll have to get out of here soon. Like tomorrow which will be some yesterdays by the time this is up.

Reading

Lately I've read some Michener, Robert Heinlein, and Kurt Vonnegut. Heinlein's book was amazingly prohetic in ways, considering when it was written. I could tell the used book store lady is no fan. He was probably a bit libertarian leaning. She was obviously approving when I purchased some Vonnegut works.

After reading Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle and most of Deadeye Dick, I think I got the flavor of why the lady was a fan. He seems to be just on the edge of the genre of writers which is cynical and slightly arrogant, but he tends to pull it back some where others whose names escape me go over the edge. I've decided I am not much of an admirer of the hipster types who mock sincerity and the heroic side of humanity. The critics often gush over these people but I think it is like the ones who gush over bad art because they are afraid not to.

Vonnegut is definitely way beyond the wallowers in the underbelly of society who love to glorify self destruction in smugly superior tripe. His work is amazingly readable and cuts through several layers of possible meaning. I'll be done with Deadeye Dick and onto something else by the time this is published.

I forgot why Kurt was recommended to me, but it was worth checking out. I'm not sure it leaves me all that uplifted, but the style is noteworthy and hopefully some of it will rub off one day. Especially his treatment of dialogue.

It is interesting to see what the favorable reviews pasted on the back cover say about various books. In Vonnegut's case, I wonder if some of them didn't just jump on the bandwagon without reading the book. It deserved praise, but you can snese when they are trying to outdo one another in how they pour the superlatives into their reviews. It almost seemed that they were kissing up and trying to glean some hipster creds in the process. If I were him, I'd have been pleased and nauseated at the same time. I wonder if it is a case in which different people get different meaning out of the same thing.

I'm glad he stops short of being a prose version of a beat poet. He treads the edge, but not so close that I walk away. It is worth exploring great American writers. This country has produced some interesting and wild literature. Often the ones that get the most raves from the critics are not my favorites. In Kurt's case, I'd love to go against them because I think they were fulfilling an image at the time, but I can't.

I'm fairly certain that you can't teach a person to be an artist when it comes to writing. Some of the skill can be taught, but the rest must just be an element of the author's make up. Probably not even a genetically transferred trait. It is a weird thing. That's where Kurt gets me; it is not strained or forced or akward, Even the parts which might normally be boring are easily followed word for word, except for the insertion of recipes here and there in Deadeye Dick. I don't read those closely.

Michener's subject matter and research make his stuff interesting, most of the time, but it is sometimes a little boring unless I am really interested in the details of whatever he is belaboring. And when he throws in his political parts, he can leave me a bit cold. John Irving sometimes does that too; throw in heavy handed politics in a story where it seems out of place. I understand the temptation. Too bad they are both on another wave length from me. Maybe I wouldn't mind if we were in accord.

That's probably why I like Heinlein. He seems less inclined to see official authority as the end all. Or, interpreted another way, maybe we do see official authority, unchecked, as the end all; as in end of all

Rates

Another pre-written, post-dated entry. How can you pre write something? There are a bunch of those terms in the lexicon. Pre-audit, etc.

Someone on the radio news was discussing tax cuts, or more correctly, the repeal of tax cuts. I was thinking that the term was a bit misleading. What they are saying is that they either think the current rate is fine or that it should be a higher rate. There is no cutting actually involved. Then, of course, it goes into who gets to pay a higher than present rate and who doesn't.

People tend to not know what that really means. So, often they turn to the easy thing which is to resent those who have a good bit of wealth left over. I'll leave them to it.

In related matters, when we hear of debt reduction and such, what is quite often the reality is that the rate of increase has slowed. It is like acceleration in the realm of Newtonian physics---rate of change of velocity. So if we acquire additional debt at the rate of x billion per month, and then manage to acquire it at the rate of x-.1 billion one month, the would be kings will proclaim debt reduction. Not true. We added debt, but not quite as fast as last month.

Maybe that's why Newton and co. developed calculus--to adequately describe rates of change; usually relatively speaking.

There are many times when statistics are quoted, and figures are bounced about, and people discuss things as if they follow a linear path when, in fact, they follow a curve with an increasing or decreasing slope. Rates.

Of course, if we could reduce the increase of debt by 1% every month, then in 100 months, we'd not be adding any new debt. Of course the accumulated debt might be bigger than the galaxy, but if we then began to accelerate the rate of change in the other direction, we'd be actually reducing it every month. A pipe dream, surely, but that is how it works.

So, any politician discussing the debt under current conditions is only telling the truth if he or she deals in rates of increase. They won't very often because it doesn't sound good, and because people don't really get the whole concept of acceleration vs velocity. Lies are often all that maintains spirits, and always what buys the votes of the greedy, the gullible, the lazy guilt ridden, the angry, and the gimme dolla guys.

Rates of increase and decrease cover all sorts of things in life. Then there are little snafus that come into play which involve rotational dynamics and more. Still, there is usually some sort of rate involved. Static is not the way the universe appears to roll. But the totality of the thing may be so different from what we know that it puts all this on its ear. It is pretty cool that here we are, yet existence and life and beginning and end are still beyond our grasp. And we're smart. We can fly and make artificial joints and make air conditioners. Bears can't do that.