two phrases I would like to see dead on the side of the road in 2008

"It's a perfect storm". About anything. I must see that phrase 6 or 7 times a day in the paper, or online.

"This is a wakeup call". And so was that other thing, and so were these 5000 other things.

Used in the same article... the journalist needs to go back to school and learn about "hackneyed, trite and cliche" writing. Often found in the same paragraph, renders the written piece in to unreadable mush.

I had an English teacher when I was a freshman in High School. He happened to also be the football coach. I remember him well.. Mr Marineau... the thing he pounded into our heads all the time, every single time he made us write a paper, was that he despised hackneyed, cliche and trite. And if he found that in a paper, man you could have an A paper otherwise, but if he deemed the paper to have any of that in it, you got an F. He was a great teacher. I hated his guts. He really made us write, though. Made us use our brains instead of hauling out some old tired trick.

11 and counting

inches, in my backyard, on the ground. More today, tonight and tomorrow!

I love my backyard in the winter. It fills up with snow. The neighbor cats come through and they're the only thing that disturbs the snow. They have a certain path they follow, a little route through the yard. I can only tell this in the winter time. There are two cats that come through out to the driveway through the gate, and one who comes up along side of the garage. This I know because the feet prints are three different sizes. There is a set of dainty little feet that hops through the snow, a set of bigger ones that has a belly drag in a couple of places and just meanders around, and a set that belongs to a cat who really doesn't like the snow.. that cat spends a lot of time shaking its feet out as it walks along.

coming up

Monday after New Years is my birthday. Yay! So my friends are trying to get me to go to see this band up in Bend, but i have to work Tuesday morning and they want to stay the night up there.

I was kind of set on not going, but last night they had a CD with some of their stuff in it playing between sets. One of the songs was "Outside Woman Blues", which I'm familiar with through Cream. I was listening and though, "Wow, I've never heard this version of it, I wonder where K dug up the Cream demo?" only to find out it was back door slam. Sounded just like Cream. So, ok, I will probably go to this thing.

Also I'm consistently amazed at what a pompous ass one of our sax players is becoming.

And New Years Eve, a gig. This will be a wing and a prayer. I'm playing in the band i played in a couple of years ago, but only in the barest sense. They aren't the original band, and in fact we have not ever practiced together as the unit that's playing out there at the Watering Hole.

wha?!

Someone sent me an email this morning..
"Benazir Bhutto was shot dead! (i hate that phrase, btw..) This is exactly why I want Rudy G for President".

Actually I don't understand the connection they made, but whatever. So he can get "shot dead"? Is he going to prevent other women in politics from getting "shot dead" in places where women all pretty much have a bootprint on their foreheads?


No really. I don't understand what this person is trying to say.

schweet!

Over today, tonight and tomorrow the forecast is for about a foot of snow!

nice

and finish off the night with a little grumble

not like i haven't grumbled all day.

I had to get something out of the Fo this morning, on the passenger side. That's side that kissed the F150 the other day. Passenger door won't open without a lot of effort.

Y'know, the Little Red Truck got nailed in the same place and we had the same problem with it, that I was able to fix with a little bashing and pulling. This one, the flex is so slight, it's JUST ENOUGH to make the door really hard to open. dammit. I mean, when the door is closed you can't tell that it isn't fitting right.

But hey, that side had it's wheelwell cover shredded by a blow-out before we got it. When we get the fender fixed, they'll probably put a new plastic thing in there. And then I won't be able to show off my fix of its flapping that I did last winter with a Low E acoustic guitar string and an ice skate.

lol

a brand new world

Jeebus i cant believe the difference siping makes. I was hard-pressed to slide around on my way home, and i really tried. There's a few places on my way home that you can screw around and test these things. The roads in town were mostly compacted, partially melted and refrozen snow and ice. I have to really stomp on the brakes to slide, and really crank the steering at speed to get a slide that way.

Friggin awesome.

just like that

well it was decided for me. I went ahead and ventured forth in the Scootypuf, headin down 97 at a brisk 40 or so, and right around the goose hollow ranger station, slid off the road. At least it wasn't into a ditch. At least it wasn't into another vehicle, a power pole, or a tree. At least I didn't poop myself.

I've never completely lost control of a car I was in. There was no helping it. What a bizarre and terrifying feeling. Not even enough time to go "holy shit!". Driving along, then SHOOP! Into the snow. What a surprise. So I sat for a minute and figured out what to do. Called the other guy, let him know that I was turning around and going back home. Fiddled around getting out of the snow and headed back. He was cool with it and said it was pretty crappy on the road down there, but he's in the company van that has AWD.

Siping. A great thing. Getting it done today because I have the munnies for it.

given an excuse to not go to Siskiyou... still deciding

we got like four inches of snow overnight, it looks like. I may call the guy who runs the other route down there and see if he can run mine. If we got that much, I'm not real interested in going over Mt Hebron in the Scootypuf. With regular tires. He knows driving in snow scares the everlovin crap out of me and taking the 97 in crappy weather is not real high on my list of ways to die.

Yeah. Finally gave a name to the camry. Scootypuf Jr. From Futurama. It totally fits.

12 26

We didn't do anything special for christmas. Just hung around the house and enjoyed a day off together. No stress, no frantic anything, no shopping, no cooking serious food. Just how i like it.

Wednesday another day in Siskiyou. Another white knuckle drive. Cheezus I hate driving in the winter here. It just gets worse in January, too.

If I smack the dashboard hard enough, push the slider button in a bit and move it back and forth, if the planets are aligned correctly and there are no solar storms, maybe I'll get heat in the car for a couple of minutes. For pete's fucking sake.

more from the farang

here's my dad's take on Thailand. I may post excerpts from his emails in the future, just because they're interesting.

"Tremendous divide here between the educated and the uneducated. Oh, fair election, yes as far as the actual voting and counting were done but vote buying is still rampant in the north with the poor masses and the current Thaksin buddies are surely the most liberal about giving the baht for the votes. This all takes place well before the election so the international press doesn't care to report about it. If Samak becomes the new Prime Minister, there will be some interesting stories coming out of the woodwork with his contempt for almost anyone who disagrees with him. Thaksin was thrown out because he was so blatant in the corruption and self enrichment to himself, his family and buddies. Sold shares of his Telephone company to kids for 1 baht and they turned around in days and resold them for 50baht each. He sold his Telephone company to another company and pulled all kinds of strings to get excepted from Capitol Gains Tax on the sale. Wife purchased government owned land for a pittance in downtown Bangkok. Oh, he was well loved by those have not's in the hinterlands because of his government give aways of baht for all kinds of programs and purposes. He knew how to buy the votes and the educated just got tired of it. The educated are also guilty of keeping the uneducated masses down by not promoting education for them which would really solve some problems."

a farang's view

My dad sends me tidbits about Thailand. His last email detailed his thoughts on the election they just had over there. He's also sent me a Thai music file and a picture of the palace in.. i think it's Bangkok. Very cool. So foreign.

Well, maybe not entirely. My biodad's parents took in Cambodian refugees when I was little, and my grandfather had a business at one time where he was importing things from Siam (well, it was Siam at the time) and Cambodia. So I have something of a passing familiarity with the art, architecture and music. There was always something to learn at their house. Their house, in fact, is full of Asian antiques he picked up on his trips over there.

But anyway, dad's enjoying himself over there. Good for him.

oh the SWEETEST Christmas present

"We Jam Econo" is on the Sundance channel. Hellz yeah.

Smash!

Well, it was bound to happen. You live somewhere that it's cold enough to snow, you deal with driving around on ice and snow and stuff, and someone will eventually tag you. Dale got smacked this morning on his way to work, about a block away from our house. At least it was the car with full coverage.

I haven't seen the Fo yet. I was on my way to my first stop of the day, creeping along on the sheet of ice called South Sixth Street today. I called him to tell him to take the 39 to work because they usually have that pretty ice free. I said "Take the 39, it's less slip-" and he interjects "Yeah. I got hit, dealing with it right now". But he said its more scraping and scratching with a minor dent, no creasing at least *whew*.

a white one

Got a fresh dusting this morning. Neat!

the one who sang the Aretha Franklin song

is here

had it with the car. again

Anyone who knows me knows I'm a rabid Toyota fan. I'm even the kind of rabid fan that will admit when Toyota makes a stinker of a car, or something similar.

Well, in a way, our old Camry is one of the stinkers. I am so through throwing money and brain power at it, but unfortunately I'll have to continue with it until the end of next summer, probably. It doesn't have the bitchen 22R engine in it, and it's the second gen that had the ECT transmission, which in itself was a great idea, with not so great execution, apparently.

Through my brilliant powers of deduction, I've come to the conclusion that all the problems we've had with it can be traced to ONE issue. The vacuum system. Dun dun DUUUUN! Either not enough is being created or there's a leak somewhere that I haven't been able to trace down. Brakes, stalling, part of the heater problem.. all vac related. The power booster on the brakes works.. whenever. The heater vents open and close according to their own esoteric schedule. The transmission shifts at strange points, making getting onto the freeway an adventure. It starts and runs great but sometimes as soon as you put the pedal down, it poops out. That drove me bananas for a while. Because I kept thinking it was the automatic choke, but because it's fuel injected, and computer controlled with a cold-start injector, there is no automatic choke.

But, you know, otherwise it runs like a champ and gets great mileage. I hate vacuum systems as much as I hate electrical, as far as working on them goes. I'm a brakes and suspension person and would happily spend all day throwing new pads and shoes on cars and shit like that. Weirdly, I love resurfacing rotors and drums. I love to watch the lathe straighten that shit out. How clean they look once they're done. And honing cylinders. wee!

So I guess in the next couple of weeks I'll take it down to Shane and say "Fix it or shoot it, I don't care".

additions

Dale is now an uncle! I forgot to mention it! Can't believe it. His youngest brother is a dad, as of Wednesday. They're in Virginia. Got a baby for Christmas. She was late coming, by about a week-and-a-half.

I was supposed to be a Christmas time baby, but I was late, too. Been late ever since. I was, according to my mom, two weeks late. In a way, I still was a Christmas baby, if you're an adherent to the Eastern Orthodox sect.

I have several cousins with kids, but I'm an only child so I get to be an auntie, too, finally. Of course, my friends who have kids, i love those kids, too. Even though I say kids are sticky little petri dishes, I like kids. Phyllis' oldest granddaughter loves me, loves my bass with the stickers of Spongebob and Patrick on it. There are pictures of that small person in my flickr page, the old one. She's the one with the Baby Bum T-shirt on. The day I took those pictures we were at a jam out in the hills and she was swinging on a tree swing, and we got her to say "Awesome". Though it sounded like "Ottum", but that was close enough. She was about 18 months old in those pictures, and now she's so much bigger. Watching other people's kids grow up is pretty cool.

When I first met The Hoov, her oldest kid was going into her freshman year I think. Now that kid is a mom, the middle kid is going to be a mom. Hoov was a grandma at the ripe old age of 36.

Tam's daughter was five when I met her. Now she's 14 or 15. Bone's kid was 4, and now he's in high school. It's been really cool to see these kids grow up and their personalities develop. They're all wacko, which is important. Star was in the south coast's version of American Idol last year, and she made it to third. Personally, I think she should have won. She did Aretha Franklin's "Freedom" song. I've heard her sing Aretha songs, and she does them justice for a white kid from Oregon. When she was little, she adored Bad Company and Cream (ok, I admit, I turned her into a Cream fan), and couldn't carry a tune in a bucket with wheels, but boy did she ever show me. We do like to rag on her here and there for being a Spice Girls fan, too, but y'know, she was 6 or something, so it's ok.

unwrapped

we did a secret santa thing with the smart half's family this year. Everyone emailed out a sort of wish list. What i asked for was: a new set of DR flatwound bass strings, mediums (mine have been on my bass for almost seven years, a true testament to their badassedness), the CDs "Will The Circle Be Unbroken" and the "Sticky Fingers" album by the Stones, rolls of T-max or Tri-X film, a Rapidograph pen, an 8 x 10 copy of a favorite family picture and "if you make things, send me one of your crafty things".

My gift came yesterday. A pair of homemade socks, a really cool homemade scarf knitted with ribbons (both totally match my woolly hat), the Sticky Fingers album, a pair of shell earrings in a really neat little wooden (lindenwood) box carved in a polish style. So i was thrilled with all that.

Smart Half got a webcam. You have no idea how long *I* have wanted a video camera of some kind. It takes stills, as well. It isn't portable, but that's alright.

ass cold... i gots it

it was like 11 degrees when I got to Tulelake this morning. Was a fun ride, with no heater. I thought for sure my big piggies were frostbit when I got there.

Currently, the airport is reporting 18 degrees. On my porch, it's 26. However, it was als0 26 over on the other side of town around 1:30 today, also.

old guy

a few weeks ago i was stuffin some muffins (after all that is my job) at one of the gas stations and an old guy and I started having a conversation. Old, like, probably in his 80s at least. What he said made me laugh.

"Oh yeah now its the bitching and grumbling season. It's been snowing since God had a pacifier, and complaining about it every year is ridiculous."

Then he laughed, bought his coffee and wished me a safe winter.

I do love the snow. I love everything about it. How it's fluffy and spattery when it's wet, watching it build up after it starts to stick, and then when it's done snowing, watching it decay a little... how it gets an icy crust on it and you can walk on it without breaking through sometimes, how it settles into the crevices it's covering. I love how on a night with a fresh snowfall, you get to see the invisible things. You get to see where the deer are going to and coming from, the most trod path for the cats through the yard. And when it melts off, you can see neat patterns in the mud. Actually i think frozen mud is about the most trippy looking thing there is.

I thought it was really cool how late at night the other night, when the snow had stopped, all the sudden all these people were out playing in the snow, walking around together, looking at how the snow built itself on tree branches. I mean, it was literally after midnight, and whole families were out in it. If we let it, snow brings out the kid in all of us. If you're so serious, so grown up, that you can't grab a hunk of cardboard and shoot down a hill ONCE in the wintertime, and holler all the way to the bottom, what a crummy life you must lead. And I do know one guy who is so serious like that, and he's just a drag to be around.

I just don't like driving in it. Because I'm not good at it. I can drive great in rain, on sand, in mud... but ice and snow... not good at it.

the white

it snowed all day down in siskiyou yesterday. There was just under 3 feet of snow at the Snowman Hill candy cane thing. But it only stuck at the top of the 89 between Mt Shasta and McCloud, so it wasn't too bad. Then, the dreaded drive home.

I have a hard time driving when it's snowing at night. The snow mesmerizes me so I have to really concentrate on driving. Just found out that it makes me a little carsick too. lol.

Not too bad going over Mt Hebron. Not too bad going through Butte Valley except in Dorris but the last 20 miles were goddamn terrifying for me. It had been snowing long enough that it had stuck to the road and I was driving over packed snow, with crap for visibility. The tires on the car are really good... considering they're just all-weather, and they have pretty deep and wide tread. I'm just not good at driving in snow, at all.

The last two miles on the 97 getting to the city exit... 15 mph. Yeah. I suck. Blowing snow, shitty visibility, luckily no other traffic because i was the only idiot on the road. kids were hanging out at Veteran's park at 8:30 pm goofing in the snow.

But it gets better! Really. I got home fine. Went over to Phyllis' house and we hung out, watched "Festival Express" together, played some geetar, put down some whiskey and mellowed out. Around midnight, I left to go home, but she went into her garage first and brought out a sled.

The world looks really surreal at night after a good snowfall. It's quiet, and everything almost glows. There were a lot of people out, actually, walking around in the snow and playing in it at midnight. My neighbors built a big snowman!

But I got the coolest- a first ever (another one!). I got to ride down a hill covered in 6 inches of fresh snow at midnight in an old-style wooden sled. You bet your ass we hooted, hollered and made a bunch of noise.

This morning there is probably a little over 6 inches of snow on the ground. Not quite a foot, maybe. It's gorgeous.

flickr weirdness

so, yes, you see two flickr photobadges. The top one is the new account. The bottom one is the old one that I can't access anymore. Flickr. Whatever.

Finally!

I have dragged this around for a few years, waiting til I had a scanner so I could finally share it with the whole friggin world.

Florence's Grand (Fl)oral Parade.

Tantalize

The title makes me think of two songs, but they have nothing to do with the post.

They keep promising us snow. Like, measurable amounts. Not really any yet. I know we are in a good snow when everything gets very quiet outside. The snow muffles it. It's just weird. There was about a quarter inch on the ground when I woke up this morning, and then it's just sort of piddled on and off.

Ah but the two songs.. First into my head was "Tantalize" by Jimmy the Hoover. Then "Tantalize" by The Church elbowed it out of the way. Both songs put me in a very specific time and place. I can feel the summer sun on me when I think of those songs.

O and Smart Half and I are going to rearrange the living room tonight. Not all that big to begin with and has a sort of invisible wall right down the middle. Trying to get more space, or at least the illusion of more space, out of it.

I

um yeah

that blogroll. just haven't gotten to it. I have it saved on a non-posted post so i dont forget anyone. Mr Crazy, I won't forget you :)

Ron Paul

Haven't paid much attention to the presidential candidates. And why would I, since in my mind, all politicians are liars and thieves, anyway...

But This Dr Paul is a Constitutionalist. And that's a huge red flag to me. Another red flag is that his followers say things like "He's the ONLY ONE that can.. (blah blah blah) and this is the last chance to keep us from being taken over by the UN (blah blah blah). North American Union (blah blah blah)!!!". I mean I hear crazy shit coming from the mouths of people, crazy shit that was crazy 15 years ago and is still crazy.

Learned a lot about the Con party in the early 90s. More crazy people, lock step with the Militia Movement folks and the nuttier of the survivalists. Am immediately suspicious of anyone who is called "THE ONLY ONE!!!!". I'm not a big UN fan, but mostly because of their sheer ineptness, cowardice and lack of action. Which I think are valid reasons not to like the UN.

But I think there are people who give the President too much credit for what the President is supposed to do. I mean The President, not the President in Office, who i haven't even paid any attention to since the last election.

I don't believe conspiracy ideas about government actions that shock people, secret societies, etc. Because I don't think there's anyone with enough brains IN the government to get any of the crazy shit done that it's accused of.

convergence of nastiness

I'm supposed to detail my friend's husband's truck. Was gonna do it yesterday but got involved with grocery shopping and laundry. Well that can suck up a day faster than a fifth of vodka. The weather was decent for most of yesterday too. Which is important because i don't have an indoor area to deal with it in. So its supposed to be decent most of today, and I'm pulling the stuff together that I'll need. If i can get the upholstery done, and the plastic scrubbed (which will probably take most of the day anyway) I can run back over tomorrow with the armorall and window stuff. Tomorrow we get our first real snow, apparently. The dusting will become 3 to 6 inches.

That's a big ol' IF. It's a 20-year-old Nissan pickup that I don't think ever even had a vac applied to it. I was vaccing it the other day and went over a gooey spot a couple of times, thought O Crap I'm Pulling Up A Chunk Of Rotting Carpet. But no, was just the dog fur that was embedded in the gooey stuff.

blank

i just want, y'know, a day off that's actually a day off...

glass

mom called me while on her daily walk yesterday. "You should see the water" she says. "It's so calm it's almost reflective". She was heading into RAT when she called.

It made me miss the ocean. If I think about the ocean, I get all melancholy and sad, because I'm not anywhere near one anymore.

She says I should come and visit for a week again. She can line up a couple of details to make the trip worth it for me. It would be worth it either way. To be somewhere warm in December.

My goal in 08- i actually have a couple of them... not to be charged any outrageous fees by the bank for the year. A new bass amp- WITHOUT swapping my old one. It just sounds so good I can't bear to give it up even though it's goddamn huge and not very portable. See my grandpa while I still have the chance. Ah, Temecula...

put up or shut up

i get so ticked off sometimes at some of the people in the blues thing. Jeezus, I do. Some people just run their mouth and bitch and piss and moan about everything, but ask them to make an effort to change whatever they're bitching about and OH NO! I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP! Well, then, help, asshole. Do something. HELP is an active verb. It is an action. Standing around and complaining about everything with your finger up your ass is NOT help. It's hindering.

I think that's the phrase in the English language that I hate the most. "I was just trying to help". When i hear it drop out of someone's bonehole, I instantly dislike the person who says it. Ok keep this in mind- the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Do we need to dissect that? Intentions. Not deeds.

There are three or four of us who are the "magic stage set up fairies" for everyone else. Some people show up late, leave early, and bitch the whole time. I'm not one to engage in fisticuffs on the dance floor, but i am very nearly driven to it multiple times a jam night. I can't get all loaded to dull the irritation, either. All i can do is smile, nod, and go back to whatever I'm trying to deal with.

Bunch of babies some of them are. Christ on a popsicle stick.

McCowan's closing

Only someone who lived in San Pedro for any amount of time would give a crap about this. Which is why I'm sad. I shopped at each of their stores when I lived in Pedro. They were always walking distance from the places I lived.

McCowan's last market closing.

The stores had better delis-real actual ones- than anywhere else I've ever been. Something else I miss is the neighborhood stores San Pedro had all over the place. Almost all of them had a sandwich shop inside that made sams that beat the crap out of anything like Subway or Quiznos.

Jim Rowe

Jim's service will be Jan 19th at the VFW in Bandon. It'll be a nice one. Almost every musician in Coos County will probably be there to say G'Bye to such a fantastic guy.

that blog roll

It's been a long ol time since i did anything like update it, change anything, etc. I'm pulling it down entirely and starting all over. Yeah... can't remember the username or anything either. wee.

tense

Ok our benefit thing is tonight. This thing always makes me nervous. I'm not nervous about playing. I know by now I can hold my own with ANY musician, just about. What makes me nervous is all the other attendant stuff that goes into this. Trying to remember what time to meet who to pick up what and take it where... We plan this thing pretty well, but still it comes down to.. "plug it all in and let it rip".
Five bands!

You've heard the phrase about herding cats... how dealing with a large number of musicians can feel pretty futile sometimes.

Nah. Herding cats.. far less painful. More like juggling chainsaws. I try to be easy to deal with, but I can't believe some of the childish crap that comes from other grownups. We had a big flapdoodle about the damn flyer two days after it was printed... someone was ticked about being called a "supporting act". First thing I did when I read the email detailing the umbrage was think "Dude, get a grip. It's Klamath for god's sake". And then I laughed and chortled over it for a couple of days. It got straightened out (ok someone kissed his ass I guess) but JEEZUS!

did a little dance

in my friend's bathroom last night. She has a scale. So I availed myself of it. (We don't have one). 10 pounds gone since mid-August or so. HELL YEAH! Officially, 12, actually. DOOD! so awesome.

the best compliment

Someone at the jam last night called me "The Human Metronome". hehe. I actually get that a lot. I'm not that fancy, but I stick like glue to the beat.

the other other white stuff

had I mentioned yet its snowing?

Klamath Falls Airport website

yeah yeah... weeee! anyway. Lookie!

What?

Here's a whole bunch of words strung together that have no discernible meaning:

"It has nothing to do with what faith a person has - it's whether or not that person's life is consistent with how he lives it," Huckabee said Thursday on NBC's "Today."

At least, to me... what?

on pea soup

Yesterday's drive to Siskiyou was pea soup from town to Mt Hebron summit. Frozen pea soup. The drive back.. ok well I had thought it couldn't have gotten much crappier, but the drive back was indeed worse. Thick fog from Weed to the Mt Hebron summit, and then all the way through Butte Valley into town. Thick enough that most of the time I could only see three of the lane divider dash lines ahead of me. This fog was denser than any fog I've experienced. Even the worst of the Coos Bay fog I've driven in had nothing on this stuff.

Banks are still on my shit list.

no snow

Oh yeah and we got gypped on the monster storm. Just a whole bunch of wind. We get enough of that from our elected officials. Snow, please!

Thanks, Mojo

For "I hate banks". A m0nth never goes by that I'm not swearing about one bank or another. This month, it's been especially difficult to restrain myself.

I hate banks I just can't stand em
Gimme a shovel and man, I'll plant em
Six feet under that's where they belong
I hate banks is the name of this song


And my favorite part, in one of the verses,
Mr Bank president can twitch in a ditch

All I gotta do is act naturally

Hey it may finally be MY TURN to be in the paper (without an attendant mugshot)!!!

We are practicing tonight, before our jam, for our December 8 Christmas Benefit concert. Just found out that the paper will be there to interview us and talk to us! How damn cool is THAT!

This year, the benefit is raising money for the Klamath County Library, and again, collecting food for the Klamath/Lake County food bank. Dec 8 at the VFW in go-juss downtown Klamath Falls. When you see the mural with the fighter planes, you've found it.

Bill!

On a lighter note, here's a guy I know. He's not dead. He's a nice guy and it's very cool to see him doing what he's doing and in the paper.

(Hope the link is fixed)

yuk! High fructose corn syrup!

I have been dropping pounds slowly but surely. Not that I was very heavy to begin with, but I was heavy enough to want to lose some. The exercise at work helps a lot, and so did making an effort to stay away from things with high fructose corn syrup in them.

You know, the more I read about that stuff, the less I want it in anything i eat. They put it in low cal and low fat diet food too! No wonder people on diets have such a hard time losing weight! The thing that packs it on is in EVERYTHING!

Stoked to find a bread by Franz bakeries that is whole wheat and HSFC free.

We've been getting fatter as a country since the 70s... when it was introduced and they slowly started putting it in everything... coincidence? We've successfully demonized and banned trans fats, next up should be HSFC. That is just some NASTY stuff.

one more....

I just got word that a friend on the coast, someone who I used to love jamming with, who taught me so much about music, passed away recently. Must have been in the last week or so. Got an email this morning from the Savage Lobster that she was finding out about his services, and that as far as she knew, they were going to be at the VFW in Bandon some time in January.

Jim Rowe, the piano man, the harp man... who was so intense and into music when I met him, he would turn that certain shade of red when he played, who could do a Bob Seger song about as good as ol' Bob himself... Jim's gone now. I'm glad I met him, glad I got to spend so many Wednesdays jamming with him.

I'll do my damnedest to be there for his memorial. What a great guy. What a shame.

In my battle against the things that don't work right

We've beaten one of several. New phones through a company that has excellent coverage all over where I need to be. I simply could not stand Sprint a minute longer last Wednesday, and my Sprint phone was almost tossed out the window in the middle of Butte Valley. Could not get through to the Smart Half because of whatever Sprint's excuse this week for him not being able to receive better than half the calls that are placed to him. See ya! Been a shitty three years, Sprint! You assholes.

However, on beating that one, another frustration appeared. The little red car. It has sprung an interesting problem, and like many of the other problems with printers, computers and phones, it appears to only do it to me. It's a cold weather issue. I'm thinking it's whatever the automatic choke is called now-a-days. It starts fine. Runs fine. As soon as I drop it into drive (or L or 2 or R) and hit (or just barely touch) the gas pedal, it dies. It won't go. However, if I wait until the outside temperature gets over 35, the problem is nonexistent. I have to dig into the book for this one. I'm just not familiar enough with this engine.

So, in that, the universe continues to conspire against me.

The Fo still needs serious suspension work, and tires that won't kill us once the snow hits.

Also, have not yet had the chance to replace our washing machine, which is just not working at all now. Good times, there.

Lamest movie

I saw the dumbest movie I've seen in a long time a couple of days ago. The Covenant.

When they made this movie, apparently they didn't nail the budget very well. They spent all the money on special effects. Crappy script, crappy writing, a makeup artist who was asleep on the job. Was there even a plot?

2 things

Py's feet are much better. Got the evil casts off. He's all stitched up and goes back to the vet in two Mondays. He has ventured out into the yard twice. The vet gave us pre-dosed syringes full of kitty painkiller that i put in tuna juice for him, and boy does he get LOADED. lol! He gets the nods. Spot managed to get into his most recent dose of the painkillers, as well, and she was walking much better afterwards. So she should go to the vet next. She has some arthritis in her hips and she's a BIG cat.

Other thing..
King of Spain, Hi-Five!

I hope i can find my camera tomorrow..

So I can get a picture of Py with his little orange bandages on his front feet. Poor little dude. I had to take him in and get his two front dewclaws removed because his claws were growing into his footie pads and I didn't want it to happen again. I'm not a de-clawing person. But this was different. Smart half went and picked him up from the vet because I was on my Siskiyou route today (aaaaaaaaalllllll day, as usual) and got home around 7. And there was Poop on the couch, and i just laughed and laughed because his feet look so funny. But then he got pets for a long time, i brought out his favorite blanket to sleep on and gave him his antibiotics in tuna juice. His feet are SO SMALL in the bandages! He's a kind of biggish cat- 9 pounds, but he has poofy fur, even on his legs and feet, so he looks much bigger than he is. He can walk around, but one of the bandages has his foot at a strange angle so walking is probably harder than normal. So, he's a big-looking gray and white cat with teeny little orange stick legs in the front. He's sleeping next to me right now. Shhhhhh. He had a rough couple of days. I know how he feels.

Hoover Dam. May 2007

The one thing about my vote that I'm going to express here.

I'm voting no on 50. "But it's for the children!" maybe so, but that doesn't make it any less stupid.

Taxing something the government would like us all to stop doing is stupid, especially when those taxes are supposed to go for something like healthcare. Excuse me, isn't this the law of diminishing returns? As more people quit, there will be less money from the tax coming in. If the nannies all get their way, and no one in Oregon smokes anymore, where will the healthcare money come from?

But since it's for the kids, maybe we should all start smoking. I'll smoke more! Yeah. Genius.

wee!

i love my new scanner sooo much

o boy o boy!

Finally got rid of the intransigent printer and bought a scanner/printer/copier thing. Yay! I have a lot of cool old film pictures I've wanted to show off. I also got a new flickr account to show them off IN!

can't even think of a title

Again, the fires in Southern California. I don't understand why it's such a big friggin surprise. It's a shame, but it should never be a surprise, and of course it's "worse than ever" now, because all those places the fires used to sweep through unhindered are covered with housing. So the houses must be saved.

My grandparents had a place in a mobile home park in the 70s and 80s, in Agoura, and there was nothing around them but the freeway, Wizzun's and the Rock Store. When there were fires out there, which, actually, was about every other year, there was almost no property damage or life lost, because there was no property to damage! Now the place is unrecognizable. A veritable sea of beige stucco and terracotta rooftops.

It shouldn't be a surprise because this is a weather pattern that rolls in EVERY YEAR! At the same time! Sometimes it's windier than others, but it's clockwork. There's a big fire somewhere every year down there. Well, i suppose one day they'll have all the open, fire-prone spaces covered in beige and terracotta, and there will be nothing left for the fires to start in. And then California's wildfire problems will be solved.

is it just me or is this

a truly perfect pairing of entertainer and role?

Clay Aiken as Sir Robin in "Spamalot" on Broadway.

..and another thing

one of the other many reasons i hate the place i played on Friday...

I ordered a BLT with fries to eat before the gig. Ate the BLT, started on the fries. First thing i noticed is that the fries *looked* raw. And they felt raw. And, yes, they tasted raw. But I had to go play so i had to wait until the end of the first set to ask for some more. Done. Just as we're about to go back up for set 2, here come my fries. Damn... So, end of set 2, i went to eat them. They shouldn't have been too cold, right? Again, they looked raw. Felt raw. They were a little warm, but when i bit into one, surprise! The center was ice cold.

This place makes you pay for the food and drink you order, on top of giving you a pathetic wage for playing. There was no way in hell I was paying for the effin fries. Luckily, the bartender was a nice, understanding kind of dude and just charged me for the BLT.

And some time ago, the smart half and i went up there to have lunch. We paid with a card, and left a decent tip in cash on the table. when our statement came, and extra couple of dollars had been added to our bill. I hadn't been back there since that happened, and still won't go there unless it's for work or whatever. Fuck that place and the asshole Christian that runs it.

a night at the truck stop

Friday night I filled in for another bass player and played up at the truck stop. They have a lounge and a restaurant in there. And a little general store thing.

I actually really actively dislike this place. It was big hair and big hats, drunk regulars, generally too much yee-haw for me. I like some yee-haw, but there's such a thing as too much.

colors

I really like fall here. The weather is wonderful, like spring. Not miserable hot of summer or bone-chilling cold of winter. I like how the trees are bright red, bright yellow, bright orange and have backdrops of evergreen. I like how the air feels.

I have enjoyed, this year, seeing the cycle of agriculture a little closer than i have in the past. With the driving to Tulelake and the Siskiyou route, i go through a lot of farmland. It's harvest time right now for potatoes, onions, and garlic. Last month was mint. The pole buildings are all full of hay and livestock have been moved into different pastures than where they spent the summer. There are strange looking vehicles cruising slowly down the right side of the road. Cows and horses are looking a weeee bit shaggier.

There's a piece of property I pass on the 97 south of town, where they have a bunch of sheep and goats. I always see one goat in particular being sneakier than the rest of his crowd. He has figured out ways to get to the good stuff that his peers haven't. Yesterday, he was mowing a path out the fence toward to highway. That strip is where the good, tall, green grass and green rabbitbrowse are thriving. Smart little goat.

dark at noon

Well, not totally dark. Dark enough that at noon I was thinking, "Gee, it's pretty late, have I been working that long?!". But no, we have high winds today, and they've brought us all the topsoil from surrounding farms and ranches. Winds are right on the heels of the mint and tater harvest.

Storms seem to take awhile to blow into KF. In Booze Bay, while the weather guy was saying "It'll be windy this afternoon", pieces of our fences were blowing down the road.

ha ha fooled ya

Man, the music got one over on me when I thought I was getting it. I posted earlier about how the rambler and I had thought we'd figured something out, theory-wise, when I played a song in A minor that he played an E minor pentatonic lead over, that also had a bass line in E minor.

Well, dip me in batter and call me corn pone, but this is the kind of thing about theory that leaves me stuttering.

There's a little trick in jamming, in playing music in general (except for classical, but I'm not sure), in that if you aren't sure what key you're playing in, the first note/chord or the last note/chord is the key. F'rinstance, if the first note/chord of a song is A minor, you could reasonably assume you will be playing in the key of A minor. Which is what we were doing, and assuming, because I'm still shaky on what notes are in what keys.

But this is where the theory monster jumped on us and ate our brains. The song we were playing was actually in G. But the first note/chord is A minor, and the last note/chord is D.

Well, of course, it's a Garcia/Hunter song, so it's all weird anyway. I should have known.

What song? "Loser". Although I don't have the Dead version, I have the Cracker version, and I love it, and have been teaching it to some people so we can play it. I love the recording of it. It's just the guys in Cracker sitting around, with the singer (whos name always escapes me) showing the rest of the band how it goes, and they all kind of jump in and DAMN it's just a fantastic example of a jam.

plan for next spring

I have heard a lot of whining from people about what kind of venues KBS plays at and about the music and about the age thing and, of course, none of the whiners have any kind of suggestions for changing anything, and it's not like we haven't tried this stuff and gotten zilch for turnout- Look! the whiners aren't here! Imagine that!

So starting next spring we will regularly give them an opportunity to shut the fuck up, all summer long. Oh, sure, this could be put more mildly, but this is my thingie and my personal opinions and i'm not representing anyone but my own irritated self here.

Anyway, the idea is on Sundays, either every Sunday, every other Sunday, Second Sunday, or whatever, we just hold a guitar picnic at one of the local parks. It'll be in the paper, and we'll send out the stuff in the newsletter. We ask only that folks bring an acoustic instrument (bass, guitar, harmonica, horn, hand drum, fiddle, dobro, mandolin, whatever) and a picnic lunch and enjoy some hours in the sunshine, strumming, picking, wailing, shredding, or whatever they do. Take some time to learn a new riff or teach someone a favorite. Jam with friends, jam with strangers, all informal, and no stage to squabble over. Open to all ages, all levels, all styles, and basically anyone who plays something that doesn't have to be plugged in, and even people who DON'T play, that want to just come down and check it out. We can't do electric stuff because we have to bow and scrape to the city to plug in. My idea, my big picture, is hopefully to start bringing musicians of all types together, not just the ones who do the blues thing. But also, like I said, to mellow the complaints. We can't make everyone happy. We can try to give everyone something to look forward to, though. More on this, hopefully, as we pull it together.

I have tried in my head over and over to think of ways to make our jams more inclusive to anyone. The issue is that we play at a bar, and the young'ns can't always get in unless we wrangle with the owners and the young'ns do certain things (one of which is that we ask they carry a copy of the ORS statute about underage performers on them while they are in jamming). Wednesdays are my long drive days, and I have nothing to do while driving except think of things. I've learned songs in my head on Wednesdays... better than thinking up ways to get into trouble, probably... Not just the bar issue, we have people who complain about anything else you can think of, from who they get to play with to how the sound is run.. you name it, someone bitches.

arrived

was just outside getting the paper. It's snowing! Weee! The thermometer we have outside that sends the temp to the clock is saying its 38. I have to move the sensor, apparently.

can't remember

I had something else I wanted to share with the world. I can't remember it, though. I've been chewing on the news about Steve since yesterday afternoon.

Another man done gone

I was terribly sad to hear that Scuba Steve was killed in Iraq.
I didn't know about it until yesterday, when I was talking to Djeef, and he asked if I remembered the kid that used to come and watch us practice. I knew him before we were in the band, he was friends with The Hoov's kids, and he was sometimes over there hanging out. The Kook told him, and he just told me.

So, let me tell you a little about him. I didn't know him all that well, first of all. But every time I saw him, he greeted me by name and shook my hand. You could sit right down and hold a conversation with him. That's what really stood out about him, to me. He was a smart, smart kid. He was easy to talk to, and I believe he had a gentle soul. I would sometimes stop into the dive shop at the mall to see if he was working, just to say hi. He had that kind of effect, at least on me. He was someone I looked forward to seeing. It was great when he showed up to watch us practice. He loved the music. He loved being a part of it, even if it was just standing at the door to the practice room and hollering and hooting for us, or cackling at our mistakes. He was too young to get into the bars to see us, but if we were playing an outdoor gig or somewhere he was allowed to go in, he was right up there in front.

So long, Lance Corporal Steven A. Stacy. 'Cooba Teeb. I've missed you.

great big "Wha?"

I still don't understand why guitar hero and guitar hero 2 are popular. I mean, I really don't understand. I've never "gotten" karaoke, either.

work for years to come

My little bro was on the Kellogg Fire in Idaho. He did such a good job, a group of hotshots guaranteed him a job for next year's season.

It's a growing industry. How sad.

Weather is here!

Hmm actually, the weather arrived last Wednesday, when we had snow at various places about 6000 feet. Bly mountain got some, but just enough to look out the window, say "Hey, it snowed" and then it went away.

Today, the snow level appears to be right at around 5500 feet or so. The tops of the hills around town got a dusting.

I needed wiper blades. I knew this a week ago, and kept thinking, "Pick up blades for the car and the Fo." Stopped in somewhere finally, today, to grab some, and stood in line behind a handful of other people who, like me, put it off. Heh. My blades on the Camry are about falling off- they're a year old. The ones on the Fo are intact, but simply don't do the job anymore. You can make a set of blades last two years on the coast- you're always using them, and if you wipe them off every time you squeegee your windows, they'll last. Out here, the just rot all summer and even keeping them clean doesn't do any good.

blah blah blah

maybe disgusting

With the newest acquisition of the Yomamaha acoustic geet, it brings the grand total of stringed instruments in our house to...

*drumroll*

seven.

two steel string acoustics, one spanish classical acoustic, one electric six-string, one archtop acoustic, one solid-body bass, one hollow-body bass.

And, you know, if I sold them all, I still couldn't buy a $2000 Taylor or anything like that. *laff* Not even if I threw in the 15-inch ported bass cab, 100-watt head AND 15-watt practice amp.

I have all this shit, and still I'm driving around in an '87 Camry who threatens me with something new to go wrong every stinking day. What's wrong, here?!

Oh the rambler and i made a musical discovery last night, and spent an hour trying to figure out what made it work. I played a song in A minor. Then I showed him the bass line for it, which is in E. We both went, "Wait a sec...", because I had never made the connection about the two parts. (my guitar brain and bass brain aren't connected. If you ever jammed with me, you'd see this). So I played the piece again, just the rhythm part, and he played an E minor pentatonic scale over it for a lead. It sounded great.

It has to do with the circle of fifths, and why certain things we've played with two guitars-one capo'd, one not-sounded right. So we spent a while trying to drag this information from the depths of my mind, where it resides, and creeps out once in a while and whacks me in the head, resulting in a moment of " Holy crap I get it!!!". This feeling disappears after about an hour, and I'm lost on the theory shit all over. anyway, I couldn't quite make the connection make sense for him, because it isn't real solid for me. We'll work on it.

in the spirit of all the "overheard" things

2 from here.

At a mini-mart i'm stocking, the clerk and a customer are discussing the merits of the "can cappers".

"Once you get them on, they don't come off easy"
"Yeah, it's hard to get off the can sometimes".

*

At a meeting of musicians, discussing the fact that a temporary outdoor stage was taken down-
"well, we all have experience playing on grass".

mundane if read one way, i thought they were a roar in person if you took the double meanings from them.

how weird things are

SO, i took the trip down with my aunt, whom, as i said, i think, I hadn't seen in at least 20 years. Possibly longer. Now we live within an hour from each other.

We got to talk for 12 hours straight, then another 12 coming back. That's right, we busted through the trip in one shot both ways. Stopped for gas, potty breaks, and that was it.

I got to meet my little second cousin when I went to her house. A little red-headed kid. I love little red-headed kids. She's smart as hell, too. Five, heading into kindergarten this year. My cousin looks fantastic. My uncle is a volunteer Policeman at Rogue River- the man is pushing 70 and is unstoppable.

My aunt looks just like her mother. Sort of sounds like her too, although I hear my dad and my uncle's mannerisms in hers, and see pieces of grandma in how she acts. She laughs and says, about my misadventures, "you may not be one by blood, but you're one of us that's for sure". Her daughter is the only cousin I have on that side that did not make a life-alteringly horrific decision at any point in her life. Good for her. Like I said, she's the "good heather".

Anyway, i suppose I should mosey off to work. I have to be there in 10 minutes.

the manifest

I'm just going to start a new flickr account, since they've been so unhelpful (read unresponsive) in merging the old one for me. But for now, a list of the items i was given.

a "pub clock", the name is what style, not where it was. The clock says "RAF" under the XII, it belonged to the Royal Air Force and probably went in a mess hall or something similar. It's in perfect condition, as anything belonging to my dad is, except the things my brother was allowed to touch. It must weigh 40 pounds.

A pipe cabinet. About 2 feet high, very delicate legs. The top warped at some point and is no longer attached, but still fits. It's oak.

14 x 14 framed print of the insignia of the Glomar Explorer. Also included with this treasure is a belt buckle that came with the print, that has the Explorer on it, and my dad's name under it (google Project Jennifer for more info on this project).

A framed and signed drawing by Paul Conrad, an editorial cartoonist from the LA Times. From 1971. It was signed again and given to my dad, "To (my dad's name)" in 1976. An original ink drawing, not a print.

A humongous oak-framed mirror. Not sure what style it is.

2 oddball pieces in cast aluminum and glass. My dad made them. One has a light inside, and the other is a place to put your pocket finds.

A spun copper bowl, made by my dad in college.

My dad's carpentry gig bag, from college.

Some of my grandfather's tools, and his toolbox. All are made in USA. Included are lineman's pliers, original channel locks, tin snippers, 80 million types of feeler gages, spark plug gappers, etc.

Our old camping equipment. Coleman single burner and two-burner stove, lantern, fuel to run them. The old aluminum pole tent, and an older backpacking tent. Scored his axe, the one we always took with us, with it's leather head cover.

Many old pictures, which my aunt has, and she is going to scan and print them.

A trashcan that looks like a Campbell's Tomato soup can.

Another clock, that we couldn't fit, that he is going to ship up.

A giant oak roll top desk, which my aunt will keep for us until we get a place it will fit... because we couldn't even get it in the door, probably. This alone weighs probably 500 pounds, in three pieces. To get it out of his house, we hauled it down three flights of stairs (and between the three of us, we had maybe three properly functioning knees, so that was fun)

My schooldesk. It's mine because I had it all growing up, and when I moved out, my mom gave it back to him for the kids to use. Surprisingly, it's not trashed. When I say "schooldesk", you think of the ones the kids on Little House on the Prairie used. Inkwell hole, cast iron feet that bolted to the floor, seat in the front for the next kid.

The "Come right now or get your butt spanked bell". Brought out from Kansas by my grandparents, a real cowbell. Bronze. They rang it when it was time for my dad, aunt and uncle to come in for dinner.

2 pieces of cast iron cookware. A "cauldron", just a pot. Also a long cauldron, about two feet long and 18 inches deep. These belonged to my great-grandparents, the Jennings (grandma's side)

a four-legged stool my dad picked up somewhere. He couldn't understand why i wanted it. It was mine to sit on when we were working in the garage together. I absorbed a lot of mechanical information, metallurgical information, and things you just generally tell your son about when you're in the garage together, while sitting on that stool.

A long tapestry thing with dragons embroidered on it, that some Minister of Something in China gave my dad on one of his trips over there that had to do with his business.

His old down sleeping bag. Also, his down coat. This coat is a monster. I can't wait until it's cold enough to wear it, although we'll probably have it set aside for guests from more temperate climes to use in the wintertime.

Dad's skis and poles. Head Standards. They're aluminum downhillers. Probably from the late 60s. I forget what the bindings are. I will risk more knee injuries learning to use them, i'm sure.

My brother's acoustic guitar. A Yamaha. It was probably played twice. Looking at the book in the case, I'm not surprised he didn't continue learning. There was an electric geet, but dad said bro came over and got it one day and it never came back. Probably got sold for bail money, drugs, or to pay off a ticket. I snicker. I would have probably done the same, but the acoustic is a better guitar than the electric was.

A digital clock that's neato- has a big face, big numbers, shows the time, date, day, inside temp, outside temp, relative humidity and a general direction of which way the weather is headed. It currently isn't showing the outside temp, even though the sensor is outside. I'll have to fiddle with it some.

Some painting stuff. Including a nice dropcloth (finally!), scrapers, decent brushes. Good stuff to have.

Some other miscellaneous things. I went and took pictures of all this stuff and will put them on the new flickr acccount when i set it up.

the visitor

i found her owners the day after she wandered into our yard. I called around to the local vets to see if someone had reported her missing. OUR vet said, "She sounds familiar" but she hadnt been reported. I took her down there. They recognized her from when she was a puppy. Someone had found her wandering along one of the main drags here, with a messed up eye, so they brought her to the vet and got her all fixed up, had a chip put in, and looked for a new home for her to go to. She got one, with a family, a big yard, etc. But she had gotten out the gate while playing with the kids a couple of weeks ago and then appeared in our yard.

So, yeah she went home and she was ecstatic to see the vet. weirdo dog.

In other news, I just returned from a whirlwind trip to LA and back, on Monday. Loaded down with family treasures. More on that later.

4-legged visitor

Because we live at the intersection of the freeway and a busy street, when a dog or cat wanders into our yard, i'll close the gate and look for the owner. Yesterday, I locked myself out of the house and this beautiful little pit bull wandered over. Super friendly. Starved half to death. So I put her in the yard, closed the gate, and walked up to the K Hole to buy a bag of hound chow. Came back, fed her. She has a collar and no tag. She's brindle with white toes, white chest, white mask. And one eye. Housebroken, rides in a car without much problem. I took her out for a walk around the 'hood to see if anyone recognized her. No luck. So, today while working, I will drop her at a groomer for a bath (she smells like stinkydog) and in between stores, call the humane society and as many vets as I can to see if one of their patients is missing. She has little snaggleteeth, too. I don't want to take her to the pound, so I've got the word out that I've got a sweet little pitty that needs a really good home. She is a spoiled dog, has attachment issues it seems. She's an inside dog. She looks purebred, but small. She has a collar, but no tags.

The cats aren't real sure what to think. Tam has come out to visit with her dog before and they did ok, just hung out in the bedroom while the dog was around. Except queen Spot, who kept her place on the couch and ignored Tuffy.

So, if anyone in Klamath stumbles across this, who knows who might belong to this sweet, one-eyed girldog, leave a comment. I've been calling her Jack.

What was the A-side for "The Great Pretender"?

Well, you may not get the joke of the title, because the its the flip of a caption I remember reading in Creem Magazine a million years ago.

The answer though, is "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes". Which is what work was like yesterday in Siskiyou. A fire, apparently pretty large, is burning near Susanville.

In the morning, it was so heavy it was hard to see Mt Shasta, even standing at it's feet in South Weed. Into McCloud, the smell was nearly overpowering.

two things

I recently bought Wilco's "Sky Blue Sky". Because of the song "You Are My Face". I'm still kind of trying to decide if i like the whole thing or not. All in all, it's good. I love the lyrics. Not necessarily the content, but the flow. Some of the music really stands out and makes me go "ooh! ok rewind to that spot again... oooh!" and some of it is boooooring. I have nothing to attach the album to.

ALso finally got around to reading "Wicked". But here's what happens when I read a book, anymore. I don't retain it for more than a couple of days. I liked the book. I don't really know why. I like that the Witch was an idealistic youngster, I like the discussions about the nature of evil. I liked the book right after I read it, but a week later, couldn't tell you a damn thing about what was in it. So, go read it yourself.

countdown!

November 1 is when the ice skating rink opens. I'm all over that. I'll be there standing with my skates hollering at them to finish up with the freakin Zamboni, already, for pete's sake!

Winter Sneaks around Fall

The mornings have been cool, nights windy. The days are still hot, but there's the underlying bite that says "Not much more of this". Soon it'll be snow tire day, after Halloween, and dig out the warm clothes day.

i love this bar

after we jammed last night, and before i paid my tab, i wandered in to the ladies facilities to avail myself of the fixtures. I noticed there were huge pieces of broken glass all over the floor. I was only moderately alarmed. Headed over to the bar to pay up, and told the beloved tarbender, "Hey, T, there's broken glass all over the floor in the women's pot". He says, "Yeah, I know. Some chick just got a bottle busted over her head in there."

I love this bar.

tip-toein

We've had some cloudbursts roll through today. I missed the ones early in the day, since I was in McCloud. Coming back north on the 97, once I came up over Stagecoach Pass, there was a lovely, humongous thunderstorm cloud over Klam. Lightning here and there. I could smell the rain, but had just missed it. More has come through, but back to when I came back into town. I turned off onto the City Center exit and made my way down to Klamath to get to 5th St. There was a lot of water on the street. A lady who probably worked at the title building or the courthouse was trying to find a place to cross onto the sidewalk (which was mostly underwater) from the road. She was dressed very nicely. As I passed her, I watched her hike off her shoes and go wading through. She smiled. Not a pained "Crap, I'm ruining my $120 pair of pants" smile, but a "ooo the water is cool" kind of smile. It's been hot and muggy despite the rain today. It's felt super nice to stand outside and let the clouds dump on me. There's minor street flooding- it seems there's no where for the water to go in some parts of town. Spring Street at S. 6th is under quite a bit of water. Perfect for a plastic boat regatta.

Shastika was wearing one of her hats today. The one they say that the Lemurians use when they send another space ship off.

Off topic, but not totally, Shastika is a fascinating mountain. Five glaciers, which I understand are growing, rather than retreating, sit in various areas. Mostly on the north side, I think. She makes her own weather. I've been coming south into Weed in the early morning and seen a cloud forming on her west flank, about halfway down. I've seen steam pouring off the profile on hot mornings, I guess the result of snowmelt. She's 7 volcanoes, and you can see, especially this time of year on the south side, the results of past eruptions. I love looking at Black Butte just south of Weed when I pass by it, too.

Disappointing and sad, though, is the sick trees all along the 97. Every tree has brown needles, some more than others. Some are just dead altogether.

struck me as weird

That next month I'm taking a 800+ mile long (one way) road trip with a relative I haven't had any contact with in 20 years.

The cell phone company that sucks

That would be sprint. There are places in town that we're roaming. I'm roaming when I'm 5 minutes outside of town. Right now, I'm roaming in my house, which is a new development. I can't even call Sprint to bitch at them. I get a US Cellular tower error message. What bullshit.

What's your job, you there with the sticks?

There was a small group of local musicians at the picnic today. Everyone got to get up and jam their stuff and it was cool seeing different people play.

One band, I felt so very sorry for. They had this drummer who seemed to just know how to play fills. And he just played them ...wherever... in their songs. It was bad enough that it was everything I could do not to just take his sticks away from him and beat him to death with them.

You're a drummer. You're job is to keep the beat. If you can't do that, you aren't doing your job, and you should take lessons or play lead guitar.

I don't know how these guys played with this drummer. Later, one of the KBS people was talking to their guitar player...

"Dudes, your drummer is really bad"
"We know" (looking embarassed)
"How do you jam with that?!"
"We've learned to ignore it"

Now, really, that's pretty damn impressive, to ignore your awful drummer.

out of the blue

Wow. Today, as I was heading out to play at a local corporate picnic with the Blues Society, my phone rang, and it was my aunt. My dad's sister.

I can't even remember the last time I talked to her. When I was a teenager?! Probably. I think the last time I saw my cousin, I was 15 or 16.

When Smart Half and I had been in Coos Bay for about 8 years, I got a note from my cousin that they had moved to a town near Grants Pass. Then I lost the note, with their address and phone number on it. Of course. But we've lived in like 5 places since then, so there's my excuse. Many things have been accidently chucked or stashed away in the garage or whatever.

But she wants to head down to SoCal with me when I go get the stuff from my dad. She would like to see him before he bails to Thailand. I'm going to call her tomorrow and we are going to work out the details and maybe catch up.

oh the bugs

A friend had said, a couple of weeks ago, that "hey, the bugs haven't been too bad this year". The mosquito and midge population had not reached an epic number, and that was nice.

Man, did she ever speak too soon. About a week ago, the midges EXPLODED. Our porches are disgusting. You can't even sit outside with a snack and enjoy the evening. It isn't much better during the afternoon. Usually, they aren't really bad except in the morning and evening, but, euw, it is SO nasty now.

a race track

You have maybe heard of the Race Track in Death Valley. Where, when the playa gets muddy and slick, and the wind blows, the rocks scoot across the ground, leaving tracks.

There's one nearby, too. I went and tried to get a picture of it today. I haven't unloaded the camera yet, but I don't think it turned out well. It'll be overexposed and the edges will be blurry. *sigh*

Anyway, it's near Tulelake

Project Jennifer

Mike, this is the story I was trying to tell you! My brain almost works.. Here's another good story about it. I'm trying to find a picture of the badge to share. It's an eagle with scuba flippers, scuba mask and..

G'Nite, Tubbycat

I had to put my old Tubby to sleep today. Her real name was Chevette, because she was just a little lighter and quite a bit slower than her mother, Chevelle (whose full name was 396 Supersport Chevelle). Tubby had contracted mammary cancer, and it grew quickly. The vet agreed it was probably best to put her down. She was 13 or so. She'd had many kitty adventures, lived in two states, seen the beach, the desert, the city, chased a lot of birds and mice (never caught one, though, that I knew of). Tubby was a dusty Calico cat, pink and grey and white with golden eyes. She had a funny walk. She sort of threw her back legs out in a circle, so she wiggled her butt when she was on her way sit in a spot of sun on the porch. She was a lapcat, and if no lap was available, she was a shoulder, lower back, feet, or face cat. She got the second name of Tubby when I had a horrible snorfly cold, I think, and I called her Tebette. Tubby stuck. It was a good nickname for her. She didn't get the idea of up for about a year. We would play with her and yank the toy up, and she'd look around side to side for it. She liked cat food. Weird. She also liked a bite of cheese once in a while, or a bit of hot dog or bologna, but never gave a rat's ass about tuna fish or the mushy cat food. She escaped a friend's house when we first moved to Oregon. She was gone for three months, but I kept going back over and looking for her. I finally got her to come to me, and she was so thin. The vet told us to feed her kitten chow and gave us steroids for her. One night soon after we got her back, Dale and I were eating our dinner of rice and cheese (well, you know the things you eat when you have $30 to spend for a week for food), and she got up on the counter and finished the leftovers before we realized it. So, she had a really full belly. Like she'd swallowed a big rock. heh. She ate every grain of rice in the bowl. She wasn't fixed yet, and not long after the rice n cheese snack, she had a *huge* kitten. Just one. One big, googly-eyed orange tabby. The steroids... we got her fixed after she had the kitten.

Tubby was weird. I'll miss her. She wasn't the brightest cat, but that was part of her charm.

Not a good enough reason

I love the people I meet at my job.

I'm starting to hate the job. Oh, yeah, after six months, I'm ready to chuck it.

Pain has never really been a good enough reason to stop doing something. At least, that's how I was raised. I'm rethinking that little way of living. I'm just sore all the time. Oh, I have some new muscles and once again fantastic legs, but who cares if all I want to do when I get home is flop on the floor and die? At least it's not back pain. Gawd I feel for all the people who suffer that every waking moment. No, it's just getting-old pain. I joke that I need a cane in the morning. Not funny, because I can barely move sometimes, especially after the Siskiyou route.

I need a better excuse to unload the job. Perhaps I should do something horrendous and get myself fired. That would suck, though.

Loser

I have the cover version of this song, done by Cracker, on one of the CDs in the Fo right now. In fact, I don't think I've ever heard the Grateful Dead one. Weird. But I've loved the song for at least a decade. Today it rolled up in the player and I just had to crank up the volume. It's a perfect song. Especially in mid-morning, with the sky blue and the air cool, the sun just starting to warm everything. It's fun to play on the acoustic and the bass. I think I could nail it on the drums. I doubt I could learn the lead in anything less than a year. But that's because I'm not a lead player, and my brain doesn't work like the brain of someone who plays lead. It's most comfy playing rhythm parts.

Last fair deal in the country.

growl

All this bullshit with my dad has put me in a foul mood. I try to not take it out on other people. It happens anyway. And then, amazing of amazing, I feel bad about it.

I have some perspective. Sure, I have a dad to be angry at. A lot of people don't have a dad at all, to snarl about or say nice things about. I'm grateful I have a dad. There have been times that I have felt like I didn't have one, though. That I just had this guy my mom married. I've had the love/hate thing with him for a long time. I swing from one to the other fairly often. And sometimes I go from being irritated with him to flat-out hating his stinking guts in the space of an hour or two.

So, sure, I have perspective.
Still trying to let this go.
Still having a hard time with it.
Still wondering if he's a fool after all, despite how successful he's been. At least as far as work goes.
Wonder if he'll ever find what he's looking for.

awone

according to OrBlogs, I am the only Kfallzer with a blog. Still. Hrmph.

waving

Ok the city has finally finished, for the most part, the nightmare that is South 6th st and Washburn. I can't wait for the miserable whining in the editorial section of the paper to end. But wait! No, it won't end, because they built these weird guided-by-curbs turn lanes in to the middle of the street. So, everyone in town who is incapable of reading pavement markings is in the middle of some kind of nervous attack over it. Heck, the curbs are low enough, just go OVER them in your monsterous trucks. Who needs curbs when you have 4 wheel drive, anyway? I actually like it. You could spend your entire life sitting in the left turn lane waiting to get into Safeway from that side the way it used to be.

Me, personally, I'm just mostly happy the touring around season is almost over. I mind, terribly, people driving 20 mph in 45 zones. It's not as bad as the 101 in summertime, but it is close. Hey, there's nothing interesting to look at on South 6th, hit that gas pedal, ok?

Hell's Corner

I think, finally, that the computer issues have been fixed. All summer being online has been a pointless endeavor, so no one has seen me much. So I did other things.

End of July, I hit the rapids with some friends for a weekend of splashing and camping. We took a trip down Hell's Corner on the Upper Klamath. That is some fun stuff and I would do it again in a heartbeat. A couple of weekends ago, we rafted the Rogue. Um, what a difference between the two. Three rapids on the Rogue, 42 on the Klamath... hmmm.... But it was fun anyway.

We had our Bly mountain jam, played at the Third Thursday and the benefit to raise money for the Veteran's Memorial at (ahem!) Veteran's Memorial park downtown.

I'm in the process of purchasing a friend's acoustic guitar, and have two more guitars being sent to me, as well as an assload of camping equipment. The two guitars belonged to my brother and he doesn't play them, and the camping equipment is my dad's.

Now let me go on for a moment about my dad. Every conversation with him anymore opens a new wound and wrenches scars off old ones. A thousand cuts, you could say. I'm also angry that the business he built from his garage in the 70s is being run into the ground by the people now running it. Anyway. Dad is moving to Thailand in November. He's getting rid of most of his stuff. He's leaving his condo for my little brother to live in. Dad bought a condo for this woman over there he wants to live with because he says "She just wants to make me happy". Well, dad, you're a rich American. Of course she does. I try to give her the benefit of a doubt, but since I've never met her and probably never will, it's hard. But anyway, the conversations always hurt now. They make me remember all the kicks to the curb. Wasn't invited to the second wedding. Was told to my face i wasn't as important as the new wife (now the 3rd ex-wife). Couldn't be bother to see me when i was a younger kid, "forgot" my weekends, then the demands to see me started when i was a teenager, and i got to be treated like a psych case by his wife, ignored by him. No really i have a long list of things that hurt and really made an effort to put them into the past, and was fairly successful until a couple of weeks ago when it all got dredged back up in a phone call.

I wonder if he'll ever realize it isn't anyone else's job to make him happy and he has to do it himself.

Shastika's Knees

I have this job. The job is merchandising. The next question people ask is, "What do you do?". I have a route and i go around to the stores on my route and unload the things they've ordered from the company i work for, separate it into the "you put it away" pile and the "Keep your mitts off the stuff i put away" pile. Once separated, I confirm shipment by making marks on an invoice and then pricing the stuff. For some things, I drop a pull date and a price.
What kinds of things? Things they sell you to eat, that maybe you enjoy eating, but probably shouldn't. Giant muffins, bakery goods, frozen deli items like sammiches and burritos and other fine comestibles. Things that are crunchy and salty, and things like cookies and crackers.
I also make sure that the people who buy this stuff don't end up with stale, old, moldy or just past-date things. Weirdly, that's probably my favorite thing to do, go around the store and find all the old stuff. In any job, there's always one weird aspect that you can take your perverse pleasure in.
It's brainless work. I don't mind it. Some days, ok, i growl a little at maybe the sales guy or how people are so lame they can't put things back where they find them.
I only work three days a week. Rough, eh? One day, i work strictly locally. The next work day, I have a fabulous route in Siskiyou county. My third day i head into the wilds of Tulelake and Merrill. The longest day is the Siskiyou route. I'm so lame i would quit if i didn't get to make that drive every week. I love driving the 97 south. Shastika is different every time. That sounds pretentious, except that there are three places one can easily confuse with each other. There's Mt. Shasta the mountain, Mt Shasta the city, and Shasta City. And Shasta Lake. And Lake Shastina. And the Shasta Nation. So I call the mountain by it's old name. I even descend into the weirdlands of McCloud, and I think that's my favorite stop. It's hot as hell, it's out of the way, the osculating whir of death along the 89 is nearly deafening, but the store is cool, the view is different and the people who work at that store are really nice and easygoing and we laugh and giggle at stuff.
So that's what I do right now. It may be different down the road. I could slip right into a job as a goldsmith's apprentice right this very second, but i'm alright so far with the merchandising deal.
By the way, when your in Lemuria, or the other far reaches of Northern Cal, and you stop into a convenience store for some chow, look for sammiches from the Whispering Pines distribution company. Those are DAMN GOOD. And I'm not saying that because i work for them, because i don't. I'm sayin it cos they're damn tasty as far as road food goes.

(PS yes i know osculating isn't a word. Tell mike over at SOS Forests. Its his word. )

The trip to the ovens of hell

This was a drive down to lovely (not. Still hate this place with all my being) Phoenix Arizona for a wedding. We drove. Through Nevada. Oh and fuck Las Vegas, by the way.

There's a highway in Nevada they call the lonliest road in the world. That was not the one we took (SR 95), but if the 95 is not the lonliest, then my mind boggles at what really is. We went through some of the most desolate land I've ever traveled through. Towns on the road teeter on ghost-town-ness. There are ruins all along the road, interspersed with trailer-park brothel compounds with empty parking lots. The land itself is gorgeous, though, and says "haha!" about us puny humans living on it and traveling through it.

I have some neat pictures from the trip, but until flickr helps me get my account merged i cant do diddly shit as far as showing them off goes.

criminy. All this crap merged and i can't access my flickr thing and there was this mess here with blogger and google and the damn router is crapping out.

But i'm back. Survived the evil monkey eating the C drive. Survived the road to the ovens of hell by way of desolation back in May. Surviving the weekly trip on the siskiyou route for the new job, and it is hot as fuck there. No titles available for some reason. I hate this shit.

100 years of surf

George Freeth.

bane

well damn i put some dirt in the little spot i wanted to grown some flowers, threw some seeds in and watered it down today. Now i look at the weather thing and we have chances of snow all week. Oh well. heh.

three more twenties

Hell yeah. Got a pickup gig tonight. I dont know the songs, but i'll kick ass anyway. Because i know ALL the songs, even the ones I don't know. tee hee.

three twenties and a shit sandwich

wow. If you have to knock someone's joy and serenity to feel better about yourself, I'm not the one with the problem.

dead or dying

They about killed me last night at the jam with the drums.

antenna party and shit the bed

-=News!=-

Ok we had our board member election last night and, again, I was voted in as the secretary.

I've been cross country skiing twice this year. Less painful than snowboarding. Weird to have learned 3 new sports since we've been here- the rowing, snowboarding, now the skiing. Of course i suck at all of them and would like to just stick with skating and join the adult hockey league up at the rink next winter. That just seems to fit what I've been feeling for a while.

Smart Half got his ABO certification a month ago. yay! Now, I'm the loser, because all i know how to do is play music. I can't even relate to people who don't, anymore. I try, but I don't get them, we don't get each other.

Goin to Eugene on 4/14 to see Djeef's new band rock the Black Forest. Court on the 12th, then bail for a day. It'll be good to see him. I miss a lot of my coast friends and only hear from him and my little bro in Boise anymore with any kind of regularity.

Anyone who was as excited as me about a new site, git yer britches back on. This is it.

nthofpril.com!

yay i got my login info! Now i just have to figure out everything, because the last time i did any actual setup of anything i was on a unix shell and that was like, 11 years ago. So, it may be a while before anything of interest pops up over there. yipes. I can't figure out how to import the old stuff... hell, i can't figure out how to get to the Word Press that i installed. rofl

still here!

I havent forgotten this miserable thing, i just haven't had much to say. Still waiting for my login info for nthofpril.com, which i paid for in November.

finally

We got a bunch of snow overnight. Wee! It started around 8 last night, probably snowed all night. There's about a foot of it on the stair railings and anything else like that. And it's still snowing.

what does made in USA mean?

It means the Toyota Camry is the only car in the race today made in the US. *haw haw haw*

yeah ok about my dad

well, just what would you think if your dad was making frequent trips to Thailand, has made comments about some sweetie over there, AND about how "age isn't an issue over here like in the states". What does that mean to you? How's that make you feel about your dad? I feel creeped the fuck out, because he doesn't elaborate much as far as the things you ask your divorced dad about the person he's seeing now. My dad, by the way, is pushing 70.

ignored and pissed off about it

I got set up to do the blog thing at nthofpril.com, in December I think. I haven't heard anything about getting my login info yet, and my emails asking about it have been ignored.

So until i hear otherwise, Pixelita.com is on my shitlist for taking my money and not giving me access to my shit, and for ignoring the emails and things through the contact form that i have sent asking them to provide that for me.

earth to dad

well, i think my dad may be a couple sandwiches short of a picnic. I may be wrong. He's always been a little weird, but i've been getting pretty bizarre emails from him lately. Bizarre by my standards is way the hell out according to other people's, too.

23rd psalm for bassists

my favorite local drummer sent me this some time in January (oh yeah, i have not been checking my emails). It is cool.

23rd Pslam for Jazz Bassists

The Lord is my drummer, I shall not rush.
He maketh me to lay out in tasteful places
He leadeth me beside cool meter changes
He restoreth my "one".

Yeah man, though I read through the trickiest
charts, I will fear no train wrecks.
For You are with it.
Your ride and Your snare, they comfort me.

You setteth up a solo for me
In the presence of mine guitarists.
You annointeth my lines with drive.
My groove overflows.

Surely good feel and swing will follow me
through all the tunes of each set.
And I will dwell in the pocket
the whole gig long.
Amen.

30-second hate

Have I mentioned lately how much i despise the OLCC? No? I don't mention it enough, apparently.

Does anyone need a reason to? Is there a piece of paper big enough to finish this sentence?

"I hate the OLCC because..."

pound pound

I've been playing the drums in public a lot. Well, a lot being probably once or twice a week. I have no drums to practice on at the house anymore. Here's a conversation I had last week at the jam, when i played the things for a whole set: (T is a damn good drummer who's opinion i respect)

T: You're getting pretty good on those! You did a great job on that set! You practicing?
Me: Thanks! Um.. no, the drums are gone over to K's house til it warms up again. This was my practice.
T: *odd look*. Well...
Me: T, I have no idea what i'm doing on those things.
T: Keep at it, you must be doing something right!

But damn one gets tired. I kept at it, i wanted to stop about half way through the set, i was about plum wore out, as they say. I'm still getting the hang of how to use the kick pedal right without fatiguing my whole freaking leg. I know i know... use the leg, not the ankle. Easier said than done, for now. The last song i think i pretty much fell apart. I got two swigs of my beer and had to get back to play bass, someone else's bass which was much weirder to play than mine. That'd be the J-bass i mentioned playing. It's much more responsive than my Ibanez. oooh it has brand new strings on it, which makes a diff. But the strings aren't as bendy as mine are. The bendiness makes up for the lack of responsiveness. I can fake it better when i make a farty sound on mine than i could on his. Plus, he has hamburger makers on the J. Roundwounds. And i'm used to flatwounds.

Still not smoking. :)

observing things

Al Gore- Jesus, man, time to use some more environmentally-friendly transportation, like, YOUR FEET.

I backslid and had a cig yesterday. It was kinda gross.

My dreams have been of pants, jumping, Lunada Bay and hearing the crowd but never seeing them.

I have had more moments than usual of "Well, this is all pointless".

I got to jam on an aquaintance's J-Bass yesterday. It was nice. Sounded great. I wouldn't mind having one.

My friend's boyfriend is terrified of me, which is ok, because he's pondscum anyway. But I wish I knew more women in healthy relationships or a with a decent level of self-esteem around here. I know one.

Robert Anton Wilson is dead.

Keep the lasagna flying.

and there is no trail of bodies!

Smart Half and I slapped a couple of patches on ourselves last night. I haven't had a smoke since about 11 PM. I didn't want one when i woke up. I haven't really wanted one today. I took a drag off someone else's and went "euw".

I'm hoping the patch works for me. When i've tried to quit cold turkey, my friends beg me to have one after about three days- if i make it that long without one. I'm always thinking about the thing i can't have when i try to go cold turkey.

The Wellbutrin made me homicidal. I just wanted to kill people. No. Seriously. No exaggeration or embellishment there.

I haven't been eating more (yet) and i don't find i need to play with things. To me, that means i'm a straight up nicotine addict. It's never been a "have something to do with my hands" kind of habit for me.

50 something in Keno

I wish these people would fix their thermometer, or move it out of the sun, or something. Their readings are always like 40 degrees higher than everything else around here.

pfft

we got only the barest dusting of snow last night. Weak sauce.

as of this typing, it's about 17 at the airport. The airport is about 200 feet lower than we are.

so. cold.

The last few days we had freezing fog. It never lifted, just hung around the basin all day. With it hard to see my surroundings, i got lost a couple of times, thinking i was somewhere that i wasn't (the coast). Well, that happens to me. There are times i wake up and forget where i am. I guess it happens when you've lived in many houses.

But anyway, the freezing fog left some beautiful decoration behind. Some parts of town, entire trees are covered in a white rime. Over where i live, the ice is on the side of the prevailing wind. That wind comes right off the lake at our house, blowing in a southeasterly fashion, and leads me to understand what "bone-chilling" really means. i go outside with my wooly ear-flap hat, three layers of shirts, big ugly coat with the scorch mark on the back, wooly socks and the sheep boots. And still, "wow it's still cold under all this shit".

We actually have a wind chill warning for tomorrow and friday. The temperatures are allegedly going to dive into the minus range with the wind.

On my desktop, i have a picture of a pristine white beach, turquoise water, blue-as-blue sky and a nodding palm that i found on the Wunderground site. I've been looking at it an awful lot....

High Contrast Sky

Your favorite band that isn't!

Michele and Turtle have brought back their commenter contributed TOP 50!!!1! list. This time, you get to nominate your favorite fictional band. Spinal Tap? Billy & the Boingers? Steel Dragon? Whatever... go over and leave your mark. These are always pretty fun when they get finished.

Oh yeah, I still write a weekly column over there. Sometimes it's good. Sometimes it's bad. Good god, people, it's enough that they GET the thing from me sometimes. Be sure to click out to the main page and check out what they have up on any given day, and there's good shit in the archives too, of course.

post-sunday blabbering

Yeah, Sunday was my Hippy Barfday. I went out, came back home, went out again, came back home, and again went out, and then came home. See. Thrilling.

At Natalie's, i had her scan some old pictures again. The pile randomly grabbed from happened to be mostly from when i was small.

I went to the Evil Empire to show people how to string their guitars, like i had planned to do, and like we had flyers for on the guitars, and no one showed up. Which is ok. I kind of figured that would be the case. I tried.

Saturday I got a good birthday present. It wasn't presented as one, but it was one to me. I got to wail on the drums for an hour at a jam.

About 36 and a half years ago...

this was me.



Happy Birthday to me.

twenty-three years

It's been that long since i got to strap on some skates and get on the ice.

I toted a couple of people up to the Bill Collier Ice Arena last night. Two people who had never skated before. I was so excited to be doing it i was about ready to haul them over and shove them out on the rink so i could go, but i was nice and waited for them to get used to how the skates feel, and the walking in them on the rubber mats. And then... we were off!

Well. I was a little unsturdy when i first stepped out. I stuck by Natalie and Rachel as they worked their ways around the rink. Natalie clung to the rail but gamely made two laps around. She even managed to pass a couple of little kids who were also clinging to the rail. Rachel clung for her first lap, then scooted along for another one. I made three, away from the rail. Only three because i stopped a few times to scoot along with them, and then the rink was closing.

But we will go back! They both had fun and want to do it again. Both had new respect for Olympic figure skaters. We'd like to do it at least once a week. It's good excerize and god knows i need that.

the wait

This girl was waiting for the waves to pick up.

This one and the last one were taken at Redondo Beach, in January of 1995

wipeout

I just got some pictures scanned.

This one is from January of 1995. I hung around the beach for a few days with a camera and took some fun pictures.

relisten, reawake

I just dug out the Afghan Whigs album with "Honky's Ladder" on it. I think that's the name of the album, too.

Great album. I still love the "Honky's Ladder" song. What made it stick was "If you want to peep on something, peep what i got stuck between your eyes". I haven't listened to the album much since i started playing an instrument. So, it's been mothballed for 9 years and 6 months, approximately. Songs on it that i remember not really liking much i listen to with different ears, now.

That's one of the reasons i like that i started playing so much later than most people. I have two frames of reference on music, but only stuff that was released up to '97 or so, and things i've heard for the first time since then are picked apart. I lost a lot of the ability to be able to just listen to a song and enjoy it for the sake of it, i think. I have to tell myself to just listen, rather than analyze. Like the song because it's all rawr!!!youfeelittoooo!!!!, not because it has some neat, obscure tripletty diddly-woos and is in D Lydian or some thing like that.

well, four days in

pretty uneventful new year's eve. meh. Rearranged the house and watched the Metalocalypse marathon. I love Nathan Explosion.

And then all this stuff in the news. Makes me wonder about my reactions to things. Is what I feel about things the way I really feel about them, or the way I was taught to feel about them? Because I was taught that I shouldn't smile about some jerk swinging on a rope, but I was happy to see it happen, finally. I should care, I've been told, that President Ford is dead. So I tried to, for a few minutes, and then tried really hard to, and then gave up, because I don't remember him as a president very much. I have no connection with him. So, uh, goodbye President Ford. Wish I remembered you with some glowing words and flowery phrases. At least you didn't go out on a rope with shit in your pants.