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.