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.