I wish I had a pencil-thin mustache…
So with the encouragement of my wife I have cut my facial hair into the classic pencil-thin Errol Flynn style mustache. My facial hair is lighter – more red than brown – so it doesn’t show up as good as say a jet black pinner might but you get the idea. It’s like a skinny little caterpillar perched on the upper rim of my lip. I like it. I shaved my beard into the pimp stash this morning and promptly ran a red light on the way to work. Then I started to notice something. Other guys with the same style mustache were smiling at me from their cars. And they were strange cars – primer gray gremlins and half-way restored Rancheros. Most of them wore their pimp stashes better than I am wearing mine but they’ve likely been at it longer and they all seem to cut me some slack.
I passed a mother and daughter. The young girl started crying and the mother’s mouth dropped open in horror as she tried to shield her child’s innocent eyes from my clearly experienced lip. I sneered and hit the gas. Is it me or does my truck’s engine sound a little beefier today? Not to mention my trousers aren’t fitting properly – they’ve become seriously tight in the crotch-region.
Throughout the day I notice this peculiar phenomenon. Out of four women three are mortified by my facial doo. No matter – clearly for those confident enough to sport the pimp stash it’s the fourth woman that interests them. Something like melting happens. These “fourth women” have dyed hair, tattoos, dark sunglasses and no bras. They wear tight jeans and short skirts, tank tops and tube tops. They are always looking for a good time and now I’m in their club. It makes me feel a little dirty and I like it.
Look for more about the exploits of me and my furry new friend in up-coming columns.
Death and Taxes
It’s that time of year ago when the land of the living and the land of the dead are in close proximity. We can see it in the trees and in the harvest. I dreamed last night of a friend of mine who passed away a little less than a year ago. He looked good – well nourished and thick. He said things in the dream that I’d never heard before but that seemed authentic. Towards the end of our conversation I broke down and hugged him and told him how much I missed him and then he was gone and I found myself staring up at the stars in the clear fall sky. Then I experienced a strange feeling of emptiness and content. How can you have both? Maybe someday I’ll get to ask the Buddha or wise King Solomon that question. Maybe someday I won’t care what the answer is.
In addition to communing with the dead and reaping the last fruits of our harvest it is also once again for us to pay our taxes. You don’t want to jump into those things too early. The reality of it is we’ve already paid the taxes anyway and we’ve only procrastinated in getting our refund. I feel like I’m doing my part as a patriot by lagging on collecting my refund and letting the Government accrue the interest for an extra six months. The way our government’s fiscal house is starting to crumble they need it more than the next guy!
Art Rocks!
We had the opportunity to play at another of the on-going Crux event Art Rock. These inter-active happenings combine live music with the creation of art. Basically you can show up and paint, draw, sculpt, whatever medium you work in, while a local band or musician performs accompanying music for your inspiration. It is really an amazing thing to be a part of and I fully encourage anyone with the impetus to get out there and be a part of this unique event. My understanding is that the Crux holds these gatherings every Friday and then whatever comes out of the Friday night session is displayed in the gallery for the Art Walk that takes place the next day. The Crux is located on Broadway across the street from Nobby’s and the Off Limits.
The Pimp Stash Strikes Again!
Well a particularly cute little red-head is vying for the attention of my new lip adornment so I’m wrapping this up as quick as I can. More exploits of the pimp stash as they transpire. Have a great week – I know I will.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Opening the Door to Evil
War opens doors to evil. Events transpire in wartime that the human psyche is just not equipped to deal with. Or maybe it’s equipped to deal with it all too well. You do have to figure that our ancestors saw their fair share of blood and guts. But war – this kind of war we’re involved in now. We’re killing people we don’t understand for reasons we don’t understand. It has become so abstracted. A threat to the United States doesn’t mean a threat to the lives and limbs of Americans. Now the threat of economic instability, or a threat to out financial superiority over the rest of the world, constitutes a threat to the United States of America. We are basically involved in a horrifying worldwide version of “King of the Hill,” a kindergartener’s game. There’s only one thing I know about King of the Hill, eventually the king gets toppled. That’s just the way it is.
Football Season
The Bi-Polar Nation
Football season is upon us once again. It’s a fun time for some and a frustrating time for others. I fall into the later camp – I’m a Raider fan. I’ve been a fan of the silver and black since the early 1970’s – back when Kenny “The Snake” Stabler was the quarterback and Dave “The Ghost” Caspar played tight end. I used to have a pint-sized Raider uniform - #12 – and I still have a pennant from the Super Bowl Oakland won back in early 1977.
I watched in despair when enigmatic (some might say insane) owner Al Davis moved the team from Oakland to Los Angeles and then cheered when the team moved back. Now I have mixed feeling as to whether that was a good or a bad thing for Oakland or any other city involved in Davis’ shenanigans. Aside from a run at the Super Bowl a few years back when the team had their asses handed to them by former coach John Gruden and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers the team’s been pretty dismal for the last several seasons and an opening season loss to Detroit at home is not making me feel overly optimistic for this season’s prospects either.
Who knows – being an Oakland fan is like having self-inflicted manic depression for sixteen weeks out of the year. It’s just baffling but I’ve said before that it is a good metaphor for life. Basically you have this crazy guy in a white jumpsuit sitting up in the skybox making decisions you can’t even begin to understand and all you can do is just watch and keep your fingers crossed that somehow, eventually, things will work out.
Gordo Gets a Face-Lift
The outdoor fireplace I built last year has undergone some serious repairs and renovation over the course of the summer. I finally have the structural work done and I am now in the process of applying a mosaic tile finish to the beast. My fingers are riddled with tiny little slices from handling the jagged shards of broken tile but I am feeling good about it. I think Gordo will look really nice when it’s all done. Then it will be interesting to see how well the tile holds up once we start burning everything we can fit into the fireplace.
The September Report on Iraq
General Patreaus finally gave his much anticipated remarks regarding the on-going war in Iraq. I have to say I am severely disappointed in MoveOn.org and a number of ranking democrats for questioning Patreaus’ character. MoveOn.org is running a snide campaign calling the General “General Betray-us.” I think there are better tactics to take than questioning the character of a 4-star general who has devoted his entire career to serving his country in uniform. Until this report came out General Patreaus was respected and confirmed by politicians from both sides of the aisle. Now that his report doesn’t say what some would like it to say they question the General on his autonomy, judgment, and integrity. I think it is an unfortunate attack that will only serve to more clearly polarize and stifle any meaningful debate.
Don’t get me wrong, I think our foreign policy over the last seven years has been disastrous and I don’t think it has strengthened our position in the world. But extremists on both sides have to understand that lapsing into name-calling and grand-standing only detracts from whatever arguments they are trying to make. If one is preaching to the choir and that’s all they’re concerned with then by all means – name call and use the ultra-partisan rhetoric. But if one wants to win people over to their cause then they need to be respectful of their opposition’s ideas.
Migration
I caught my first glimpse of some migratory birds making their ways north as autumn looms and winter is just around the corner. I don’t know if they were geese or swans and I’ve only seen one formation of these birds thus far. That and some of our Japanese maples are just starting to turn from green to red and orange. The days are growing shorter and it’s getting harder to get out of bed in the morning regardless of how much sleep I’m getting. So I’m thinking fall is here and winter is just around the corner. I’ll let you know how the fireplace holds up after the first decent rain-storm.
Football season is upon us once again. It’s a fun time for some and a frustrating time for others. I fall into the later camp – I’m a Raider fan. I’ve been a fan of the silver and black since the early 1970’s – back when Kenny “The Snake” Stabler was the quarterback and Dave “The Ghost” Caspar played tight end. I used to have a pint-sized Raider uniform - #12 – and I still have a pennant from the Super Bowl Oakland won back in early 1977.
I watched in despair when enigmatic (some might say insane) owner Al Davis moved the team from Oakland to Los Angeles and then cheered when the team moved back. Now I have mixed feeling as to whether that was a good or a bad thing for Oakland or any other city involved in Davis’ shenanigans. Aside from a run at the Super Bowl a few years back when the team had their asses handed to them by former coach John Gruden and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers the team’s been pretty dismal for the last several seasons and an opening season loss to Detroit at home is not making me feel overly optimistic for this season’s prospects either.
Who knows – being an Oakland fan is like having self-inflicted manic depression for sixteen weeks out of the year. It’s just baffling but I’ve said before that it is a good metaphor for life. Basically you have this crazy guy in a white jumpsuit sitting up in the skybox making decisions you can’t even begin to understand and all you can do is just watch and keep your fingers crossed that somehow, eventually, things will work out.
Gordo Gets a Face-Lift
The outdoor fireplace I built last year has undergone some serious repairs and renovation over the course of the summer. I finally have the structural work done and I am now in the process of applying a mosaic tile finish to the beast. My fingers are riddled with tiny little slices from handling the jagged shards of broken tile but I am feeling good about it. I think Gordo will look really nice when it’s all done. Then it will be interesting to see how well the tile holds up once we start burning everything we can fit into the fireplace.
The September Report on Iraq
General Patreaus finally gave his much anticipated remarks regarding the on-going war in Iraq. I have to say I am severely disappointed in MoveOn.org and a number of ranking democrats for questioning Patreaus’ character. MoveOn.org is running a snide campaign calling the General “General Betray-us.” I think there are better tactics to take than questioning the character of a 4-star general who has devoted his entire career to serving his country in uniform. Until this report came out General Patreaus was respected and confirmed by politicians from both sides of the aisle. Now that his report doesn’t say what some would like it to say they question the General on his autonomy, judgment, and integrity. I think it is an unfortunate attack that will only serve to more clearly polarize and stifle any meaningful debate.
Don’t get me wrong, I think our foreign policy over the last seven years has been disastrous and I don’t think it has strengthened our position in the world. But extremists on both sides have to understand that lapsing into name-calling and grand-standing only detracts from whatever arguments they are trying to make. If one is preaching to the choir and that’s all they’re concerned with then by all means – name call and use the ultra-partisan rhetoric. But if one wants to win people over to their cause then they need to be respectful of their opposition’s ideas.
Migration
I caught my first glimpse of some migratory birds making their ways north as autumn looms and winter is just around the corner. I don’t know if they were geese or swans and I’ve only seen one formation of these birds thus far. That and some of our Japanese maples are just starting to turn from green to red and orange. The days are growing shorter and it’s getting harder to get out of bed in the morning regardless of how much sleep I’m getting. So I’m thinking fall is here and winter is just around the corner. I’ll let you know how the fireplace holds up after the first decent rain-storm.
The Summer of Petty Jealousy
This summer marks the 30th anniversary of the legendary “Summer of Love” and everywhere I turn, from the pages of Rolling Stone Magazine, to the hippy burn-out living in a van parked in my alley-way, somebody wants to tell me how great the 60’s were. And I don’t doubt it – the advent of the birth control pill and LSD at precisely the same cosmic moment. An unpopular war being telecast every night and uniting a whole generation of long-haired pot smokers with slogans like “turn on, tune in, drop out,” and “be here now.” Experimental drugs, experimental music, experimental sex. It sounds like a day-glo nightmare or a psychedelic paradise depending on your point of view. And I’m jealous. I’m not too big to admit it. I am jealous as hell of the people who got to come of age in such a revolutionary era.
I’m also sick of hearing about it. Because look, when the summer of love happened I was four years away from existing. I was born in 1971 – the summer of rock-stars dropping dead from overdoses and the free clinics filling up with tweakers and syphilis patients.
Some people love to hear stories about that magical time that was the 1960’s. I came of age in the 1980’s. No one has ever asked me to regale them with stories about the 1980’s. It seems to be a natural phenomenon that people always want to tell you that life was better when they were young but kids I am here to say that if anyone tries to tell you that the 1980’s were better than today they are full of shit. The 1980’s stunk on ice. We had Nancy Reagan telling everyone to say “NO” to drugs while Ronald Reagan cut the funding for all mental patients except those who would pose a physical threat of violence if they were released from their asylums. Meanwhile while the Gipper could not be bothered to show compassion to our most vulnerable citizens he was perfectly willing to spend trillions of dollars on a nuclear arsenal capable of blowing up the world 250 times over. In an ironic twist of fate Reagan cut federal funding for Alzheimer’s research. Today people credit Reagan with winning the Cold War. You’ve got to hand it to him, he had good timing. But what do you expect? He was an actor. The Soviet Union collapsed inward because of corruption. It would have happened eventually no matter who was in office. Aside from that today Russia views the United States as its number one threat so as far as I can tell the Cold War is still set on simmer. We just had a fun little artificial celebration there.
We had AIDS so that was fun. Now not only could drugs kill you but so could sex. Ridiculous. The kids from the 60’s get free love and my generation gets death. Cold sores and crabs just weren’t good enough I guess. We still have AIDS now but for some reason it doesn’t seem like as big of a deal. It know it still is but I’m telling you in the 1980’s it was like “if you get laid you’re gonna die!” As if me and my high-school hacky-sacking buddies needed help not scoring with the ladies.
And the music – Motley Crue, Iron Maiden, old Metallica. Well alright, the music was bitching! But what about all that other crap? OMD, The Thompson Twins, Depeche Mode? Yuck. The 80’s were definitely a confusing time.
Talk about confusing though – I’ve never seen anything as completely befuddling as the 2000’s. It’s hard to even figure out what to call it. The 00’s? The “oughts?” I don’t know. But here we have a war – a full-on blood and guts war with hundreds of people being blown apart every single day. But the news won’t show it and the government won’t make us pay for it so for a lot of the folks at home it’s just life as usual. A handful of citizens are shouldering the entire burden of what has been called by our commander in chief the defining struggle of our lifetime. As a result there is no cohesive anti-war movement and that is no accident. Most of the people in power today were in power when Vietnam was raging and they’ve learned how not to make those mistakes again.
The reason the 60’s stands alone as such a wondrous and fascinating time is because the 60’s ended. The powers that be crushed the dawning Age of Aquarius and the work and change that had begun was not completed. The promise of peace was broken. Ideals were sold out. It’s been 30 years since the Summer of Love – since as a culture we turned our back on war. People joined together in peace and love. So why are we still allowing wars to be fought on our watch?
I’m also sick of hearing about it. Because look, when the summer of love happened I was four years away from existing. I was born in 1971 – the summer of rock-stars dropping dead from overdoses and the free clinics filling up with tweakers and syphilis patients.
Some people love to hear stories about that magical time that was the 1960’s. I came of age in the 1980’s. No one has ever asked me to regale them with stories about the 1980’s. It seems to be a natural phenomenon that people always want to tell you that life was better when they were young but kids I am here to say that if anyone tries to tell you that the 1980’s were better than today they are full of shit. The 1980’s stunk on ice. We had Nancy Reagan telling everyone to say “NO” to drugs while Ronald Reagan cut the funding for all mental patients except those who would pose a physical threat of violence if they were released from their asylums. Meanwhile while the Gipper could not be bothered to show compassion to our most vulnerable citizens he was perfectly willing to spend trillions of dollars on a nuclear arsenal capable of blowing up the world 250 times over. In an ironic twist of fate Reagan cut federal funding for Alzheimer’s research. Today people credit Reagan with winning the Cold War. You’ve got to hand it to him, he had good timing. But what do you expect? He was an actor. The Soviet Union collapsed inward because of corruption. It would have happened eventually no matter who was in office. Aside from that today Russia views the United States as its number one threat so as far as I can tell the Cold War is still set on simmer. We just had a fun little artificial celebration there.
We had AIDS so that was fun. Now not only could drugs kill you but so could sex. Ridiculous. The kids from the 60’s get free love and my generation gets death. Cold sores and crabs just weren’t good enough I guess. We still have AIDS now but for some reason it doesn’t seem like as big of a deal. It know it still is but I’m telling you in the 1980’s it was like “if you get laid you’re gonna die!” As if me and my high-school hacky-sacking buddies needed help not scoring with the ladies.
And the music – Motley Crue, Iron Maiden, old Metallica. Well alright, the music was bitching! But what about all that other crap? OMD, The Thompson Twins, Depeche Mode? Yuck. The 80’s were definitely a confusing time.
Talk about confusing though – I’ve never seen anything as completely befuddling as the 2000’s. It’s hard to even figure out what to call it. The 00’s? The “oughts?” I don’t know. But here we have a war – a full-on blood and guts war with hundreds of people being blown apart every single day. But the news won’t show it and the government won’t make us pay for it so for a lot of the folks at home it’s just life as usual. A handful of citizens are shouldering the entire burden of what has been called by our commander in chief the defining struggle of our lifetime. As a result there is no cohesive anti-war movement and that is no accident. Most of the people in power today were in power when Vietnam was raging and they’ve learned how not to make those mistakes again.
The reason the 60’s stands alone as such a wondrous and fascinating time is because the 60’s ended. The powers that be crushed the dawning Age of Aquarius and the work and change that had begun was not completed. The promise of peace was broken. Ideals were sold out. It’s been 30 years since the Summer of Love – since as a culture we turned our back on war. People joined together in peace and love. So why are we still allowing wars to be fought on our watch?
The Law
Death for Adultery
The human rights community is up in arms over the recent stoning to death of an Iranian man in punishment for the crime of adultery. The woman involved in the crime is also scheduled to be stoned to death but activists are scrambling to head-off the execution.
Everybody Must Get Stoned
Stoning as a sentence is some old school punishment that dates back to the wonderfully harsh Old Testament. The actual procedure involves burying the victim to their waist in the sand and then pelting them with stones that are picked to be small enough that they will not immediately render the victim unconscious or dead but large enough to cause damage and death over time. An incredibly lingering and painful death is thus ensured. Stoning as a sentence is typically meted out for the charge of adultery. They take their extramarital nookie very seriously over their in parts of the Middle East.
Death for Accepting Bribes
Zheng Xiayu, the head of China’s food and drug watchdog group was executed last Tuesday for taking bribes to approve a series of bad antibiotics that resulted in the death of many Chinese citizens. China is in the midst of a very interesting period right now. They have become a viable world economic power almost overnight and as a result a society that was once very closed and a government that is still very top-heavy and not exactly democratic by Canadian standards is being forced to adjust on the fly. Personally I think Xiayu was more or less caught in the lurch. Ten years ago a government official taking bribes at the expense of the lives of Chinese citizens would probably not have raised an eyebrow. Today the people are demanding greater accountability from their government officials and Xiayu has become an example of this phenomenon.
Good News From the Middle East
What? No way. Yeah really. BBC reporter Alan Jonhston has been released after being held for 114 days in the Gaza strip.
Israeli cabinet agrees to Prisoner Release
In a move designed to bolster support for Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas the Israeli government has agreed to release 250 Palestinian prisoners. This only makes sense. I mean, come on, governments can’t just grab people off the streets and inter them indefinitely without any charges being filed or granting the prisoners access to legal representation and a fair trial. Right? They can’t, can they? I mean, what civilized nation in the year 2007 would do such a thing?
Meanwhile Back in the U.K.
Metallica front-man/hellion James Hetfield was detained by airport security for wearing a “Taliban-esque” beard. Reminds me of a column Maxim once ran called “Bum or Rock-Star” in which photographs of famous rock musicians were juxtaposed with photographs of homeless people.
Meanwhile Back in America
Well if you didn’t already know it Alberto Gonzalez, the U.S. Attorney General and George W. Bush’s favorite bed-buddy, is a liar. In the latest blow to his already shaky (maybe non-existent is a better word) credibility it has been revealed that only days before testifying that there had been no verified civil rights violations Gonzales had indeed reviewed memos detailing abuses. The highest attorney in the land has again utilized the slippery double-speak of the Bush administration to try and worm out from under the charges. And these guys accused Clinton of being slippery. At least Bill was better at it.
The Law Comes to Chico
And right here in our own sleepy little berg it’s been decided that we need more law in order to regulate, of all things, mosh pits and parties. A new ordinance has already been passed giving police more authority to quell aggressive parties and an ordinance regulating slam-dancing is being considered by the council.
Death of an Anarchist
I used to fancy myself a bit of an anarchist but lately I have to admit I’ve changed my tune. Over the course of the past year I have been exposed to a portion of that minor percentage of the population for which the bulk of laws are created - assholes. I’ve simply run across too many assholes who, were there no laws, would wreck it for the rest of us. Thanks a lot jerks.
The human rights community is up in arms over the recent stoning to death of an Iranian man in punishment for the crime of adultery. The woman involved in the crime is also scheduled to be stoned to death but activists are scrambling to head-off the execution.
Everybody Must Get Stoned
Stoning as a sentence is some old school punishment that dates back to the wonderfully harsh Old Testament. The actual procedure involves burying the victim to their waist in the sand and then pelting them with stones that are picked to be small enough that they will not immediately render the victim unconscious or dead but large enough to cause damage and death over time. An incredibly lingering and painful death is thus ensured. Stoning as a sentence is typically meted out for the charge of adultery. They take their extramarital nookie very seriously over their in parts of the Middle East.
Death for Accepting Bribes
Zheng Xiayu, the head of China’s food and drug watchdog group was executed last Tuesday for taking bribes to approve a series of bad antibiotics that resulted in the death of many Chinese citizens. China is in the midst of a very interesting period right now. They have become a viable world economic power almost overnight and as a result a society that was once very closed and a government that is still very top-heavy and not exactly democratic by Canadian standards is being forced to adjust on the fly. Personally I think Xiayu was more or less caught in the lurch. Ten years ago a government official taking bribes at the expense of the lives of Chinese citizens would probably not have raised an eyebrow. Today the people are demanding greater accountability from their government officials and Xiayu has become an example of this phenomenon.
Good News From the Middle East
What? No way. Yeah really. BBC reporter Alan Jonhston has been released after being held for 114 days in the Gaza strip.
Israeli cabinet agrees to Prisoner Release
In a move designed to bolster support for Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas the Israeli government has agreed to release 250 Palestinian prisoners. This only makes sense. I mean, come on, governments can’t just grab people off the streets and inter them indefinitely without any charges being filed or granting the prisoners access to legal representation and a fair trial. Right? They can’t, can they? I mean, what civilized nation in the year 2007 would do such a thing?
Meanwhile Back in the U.K.
Metallica front-man/hellion James Hetfield was detained by airport security for wearing a “Taliban-esque” beard. Reminds me of a column Maxim once ran called “Bum or Rock-Star” in which photographs of famous rock musicians were juxtaposed with photographs of homeless people.
Meanwhile Back in America
Well if you didn’t already know it Alberto Gonzalez, the U.S. Attorney General and George W. Bush’s favorite bed-buddy, is a liar. In the latest blow to his already shaky (maybe non-existent is a better word) credibility it has been revealed that only days before testifying that there had been no verified civil rights violations Gonzales had indeed reviewed memos detailing abuses. The highest attorney in the land has again utilized the slippery double-speak of the Bush administration to try and worm out from under the charges. And these guys accused Clinton of being slippery. At least Bill was better at it.
The Law Comes to Chico
And right here in our own sleepy little berg it’s been decided that we need more law in order to regulate, of all things, mosh pits and parties. A new ordinance has already been passed giving police more authority to quell aggressive parties and an ordinance regulating slam-dancing is being considered by the council.
Death of an Anarchist
I used to fancy myself a bit of an anarchist but lately I have to admit I’ve changed my tune. Over the course of the past year I have been exposed to a portion of that minor percentage of the population for which the bulk of laws are created - assholes. I’ve simply run across too many assholes who, were there no laws, would wreck it for the rest of us. Thanks a lot jerks.
Sugar Highs and Artificial Lows
Pop Tart Melt-Down!
Sometimes I like to pretend I stay above the fray but honestly I’m just like everyone else – I can’t keep my eyes off a train wreck - and both Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan have been heaping on extra helpings of guilty pleasure.
The wonderfully trashy Ms. Spears has decided it would be a good idea to fire her entire management and handle her own business affairs. Days after the management massacre she was seen leaving a restaurant followed by a couple of somewhat seedy looking business-men grinning from ear to ear and holding piles of signed documents. One can only speculate as to what genius financial dealings the “Toxic” superstar has signed onto. After the business lunch Britney and a friend decided it would be a fun time to strip down to their panties and bras – with the paparazzi in tow – and take an afternoon dip in the chilly Pacific Ocean on Malibu Bay. Once again Britney is blazing new trails of professionalism.
In slightly more troubling news just two weeks out of rehab, and making a big show out of her sobriety, Lindsay Lohan has been arrested for driving under the influence and possession and trafficking of narcotics. It seems that the hard-partying just turned twenty-one year old actress chased down the mother of her former personal assistant, who had quit only the day before, and proceeded to get into a heated argument with the terrified woman. Not initially understanding that it was Lohan behind her the woman called the police and the rest is history. Lohan failed the field sobriety test, blew a .13 blood alcohol count, and then police searched her Denali and founded a bag of cocaine. Note to Lindsay – if you’re going to get drunk and chase down your former staff’s parents make sure and leave your blow at home!
I don’t know what to think of these young starlets. Honestly I can’t imagine how I would’ve acted if I’d been rich and famous and had photographers following my every move before I was even of legal drinking age. Thank god I don’t have to. I suppose that may be attractive to younger people but honestly I don’t think celebrity is all its cracked up to be – especially when the celebrity comes so young and, at least in the case of Ms.Spears, with so little actual substance behind it. My juries still undecided on Lohan – she might be a relatively talented actress. Hopefully someday she’ll get her head screwed on straight and allow us to find out.
The Dumb of Now and a Fluff-Based Economy
The gasoline companies did it. I distinctly recall having the conversation a couple of years ago when gas prices went up to $2.25 per gallon. Then everyone was relieved when the prices dropped back down to $1.99. A friend of mine and I decided it was only a matter of time before they’d pull the same stunt with $3.00/gallon prices and well, that time came pretty darn quick if you ask me. It isn’t even subtle. They raise the prices up to nearly three and a half dollars a gallon and then drop it down to $2.99 and people on the local news are going “oh it’s so great that gas prices are dropping.” They aren’t dropping people. They are going through the fucking roof and the oil industry is once again making record profits. Come on – I’m all for living in the moment but lets not turn our brains off in the process or our asses will really start getting sore.
I have to tell you that the time is coming to start getting our spending under control. Put money in the bank, or maybe even under your mattress. Get those credit cards paid down. Forsake the $5 cups of coffee and the $60 phone bills. This fluff-based, debt-driven, consumption-fueled economy is just a few interest points away from crumbling and a few more away from collapsing entirely. Everything is tied to gasoline prices and right now the Feds are pulling out rabbits from their hats to keep inflation from igniting. The rabbit population is starting to wane.
Ah Manton
A world away from all this artificial Hollywood consumption is only an hour and a half from Chico in the sprawling foothill community that is Manton, California. 2 Drink and I were privileged enough to share a bill with the Liz Merry Aaron Standish comedy troupe and it was a refreshing and thoroughly enjoyable experience. We played in a hundred-plus year old building called the Manton Corners that reminded me of photos I’ve seen of the Grand Ol Opry back in the 1940’s. The crowd was boisterous and welcoming and it was a show I’ll never forget. Can’t wait to get back up there, maybe someday for good.
Sometimes I like to pretend I stay above the fray but honestly I’m just like everyone else – I can’t keep my eyes off a train wreck - and both Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan have been heaping on extra helpings of guilty pleasure.
The wonderfully trashy Ms. Spears has decided it would be a good idea to fire her entire management and handle her own business affairs. Days after the management massacre she was seen leaving a restaurant followed by a couple of somewhat seedy looking business-men grinning from ear to ear and holding piles of signed documents. One can only speculate as to what genius financial dealings the “Toxic” superstar has signed onto. After the business lunch Britney and a friend decided it would be a fun time to strip down to their panties and bras – with the paparazzi in tow – and take an afternoon dip in the chilly Pacific Ocean on Malibu Bay. Once again Britney is blazing new trails of professionalism.
In slightly more troubling news just two weeks out of rehab, and making a big show out of her sobriety, Lindsay Lohan has been arrested for driving under the influence and possession and trafficking of narcotics. It seems that the hard-partying just turned twenty-one year old actress chased down the mother of her former personal assistant, who had quit only the day before, and proceeded to get into a heated argument with the terrified woman. Not initially understanding that it was Lohan behind her the woman called the police and the rest is history. Lohan failed the field sobriety test, blew a .13 blood alcohol count, and then police searched her Denali and founded a bag of cocaine. Note to Lindsay – if you’re going to get drunk and chase down your former staff’s parents make sure and leave your blow at home!
I don’t know what to think of these young starlets. Honestly I can’t imagine how I would’ve acted if I’d been rich and famous and had photographers following my every move before I was even of legal drinking age. Thank god I don’t have to. I suppose that may be attractive to younger people but honestly I don’t think celebrity is all its cracked up to be – especially when the celebrity comes so young and, at least in the case of Ms.Spears, with so little actual substance behind it. My juries still undecided on Lohan – she might be a relatively talented actress. Hopefully someday she’ll get her head screwed on straight and allow us to find out.
The Dumb of Now and a Fluff-Based Economy
The gasoline companies did it. I distinctly recall having the conversation a couple of years ago when gas prices went up to $2.25 per gallon. Then everyone was relieved when the prices dropped back down to $1.99. A friend of mine and I decided it was only a matter of time before they’d pull the same stunt with $3.00/gallon prices and well, that time came pretty darn quick if you ask me. It isn’t even subtle. They raise the prices up to nearly three and a half dollars a gallon and then drop it down to $2.99 and people on the local news are going “oh it’s so great that gas prices are dropping.” They aren’t dropping people. They are going through the fucking roof and the oil industry is once again making record profits. Come on – I’m all for living in the moment but lets not turn our brains off in the process or our asses will really start getting sore.
I have to tell you that the time is coming to start getting our spending under control. Put money in the bank, or maybe even under your mattress. Get those credit cards paid down. Forsake the $5 cups of coffee and the $60 phone bills. This fluff-based, debt-driven, consumption-fueled economy is just a few interest points away from crumbling and a few more away from collapsing entirely. Everything is tied to gasoline prices and right now the Feds are pulling out rabbits from their hats to keep inflation from igniting. The rabbit population is starting to wane.
Ah Manton
A world away from all this artificial Hollywood consumption is only an hour and a half from Chico in the sprawling foothill community that is Manton, California. 2 Drink and I were privileged enough to share a bill with the Liz Merry Aaron Standish comedy troupe and it was a refreshing and thoroughly enjoyable experience. We played in a hundred-plus year old building called the Manton Corners that reminded me of photos I’ve seen of the Grand Ol Opry back in the 1940’s. The crowd was boisterous and welcoming and it was a show I’ll never forget. Can’t wait to get back up there, maybe someday for good.
Some Cultures are Wrong
I stopped eating meat about a year and a half ago. It was Barbaro, that magnificent Kentucky Derby winning racehorse who broke his mind leg in the Preakness, that triggered the decision. It’s a personal decision and one that works for me at this point in my life.
I try to avoid the politics of it all but with Michael Vick and professional dog-fighting making daily headlines I guess the time has come to write about my decision and about this schism in our society.
It has been said that a society is only as good as it treats its poorest, most helpless citizens and I would argue that how a society treats animals is also an indication of the culture. On both these fronts I am afraid that the good old U.S. of A is not doing so hot.
It isn’t eating meat that I have a problem with – in fact I’ve eaten duck a friend of mine shot. I figure that the duck was living free and had a good life before it was killed. I would eat an animal if I knew it had been treated humanely, lived a good life, and been slaughtered in a conscientious manner. Instead most of the meat we eat comes from factory farms. The animals spend their lives in cages pumped full of antibiotics so they don’t die from infections that spread like wild-fire, scared and living in squalor. The separation between American consumers and what we eat bothers me. I think if most of us saw the inside of a slaughterhouse we would probably never eat meat again – and we know this. So what do we do? We generally do our best to avoid understanding where our food comes from. We are willfully ignorant about the fuel we put into our bodies everyday.
You know in my mind there is no doubt that animals feel. My wife and I are admittedly dog nuts. Our two dogs Billy and Pooh Pooh are a part of our family. To the extreme. They sleep in bed with us, they sit on the furniture. They have transcended the title of “dogs” and become little four-legged people who can’t speak properly and wear fur coats year round. But I know they feel. They get scared during thunderstorms, they get happy when we are happy. The can sometimes be anxious, lonely, or depressed.
I can’t imagine how these dogs who are forced to participate in dog-fights feel when the fight is over. Brutalized, torn apart, injured, dying – forsaken by the masters that they loved, trained, fought, and died for. And then these beautiful animals are just cast aside like trash. I just can’t understand it. I do understand the argument that dog-fights are part of a culture – but to me that just calls into question the character and validity of an entire culture. Saying it is part of a culture doesn’t make it right. Racism, sexism, and child molestation are all part of cultures –sickening and disgusting cultures that should be abolished. Some cultures are just dead wrong and a culture that brutalizes animals for entertainment is one of these.
I try to avoid the politics of it all but with Michael Vick and professional dog-fighting making daily headlines I guess the time has come to write about my decision and about this schism in our society.
It has been said that a society is only as good as it treats its poorest, most helpless citizens and I would argue that how a society treats animals is also an indication of the culture. On both these fronts I am afraid that the good old U.S. of A is not doing so hot.
It isn’t eating meat that I have a problem with – in fact I’ve eaten duck a friend of mine shot. I figure that the duck was living free and had a good life before it was killed. I would eat an animal if I knew it had been treated humanely, lived a good life, and been slaughtered in a conscientious manner. Instead most of the meat we eat comes from factory farms. The animals spend their lives in cages pumped full of antibiotics so they don’t die from infections that spread like wild-fire, scared and living in squalor. The separation between American consumers and what we eat bothers me. I think if most of us saw the inside of a slaughterhouse we would probably never eat meat again – and we know this. So what do we do? We generally do our best to avoid understanding where our food comes from. We are willfully ignorant about the fuel we put into our bodies everyday.
You know in my mind there is no doubt that animals feel. My wife and I are admittedly dog nuts. Our two dogs Billy and Pooh Pooh are a part of our family. To the extreme. They sleep in bed with us, they sit on the furniture. They have transcended the title of “dogs” and become little four-legged people who can’t speak properly and wear fur coats year round. But I know they feel. They get scared during thunderstorms, they get happy when we are happy. The can sometimes be anxious, lonely, or depressed.
I can’t imagine how these dogs who are forced to participate in dog-fights feel when the fight is over. Brutalized, torn apart, injured, dying – forsaken by the masters that they loved, trained, fought, and died for. And then these beautiful animals are just cast aside like trash. I just can’t understand it. I do understand the argument that dog-fights are part of a culture – but to me that just calls into question the character and validity of an entire culture. Saying it is part of a culture doesn’t make it right. Racism, sexism, and child molestation are all part of cultures –sickening and disgusting cultures that should be abolished. Some cultures are just dead wrong and a culture that brutalizes animals for entertainment is one of these.
Lilian's Tea
This time of the year – with the leaves turning and the light quality changing – it calls for a little break from reality. Sometimes that might come in the form of a good binge on alcohol; other times maybe some transcendental meditation. Then there’s the afternoon tea party. This year was the year of the afternoon tea party and so I took a little trip over the weekend. A few score of miles down the dusty back roads past the old shot out refrigerator, through the oaks and park the car and then it’s a scramble through the poison oak and coyote brush and then your almost there. It was early in the afternoon when Trish and I stumbled across a make-shift bridge over a dry creek bed and down a slight crease in the hill where Lilian’s trailer is parked. Planted is more like it. The old fiberglass shell hasn’t been moved for years and the grasses and thistle grow through it and around it. Little purple and yellow wildflowers are spotted here and there as well.
Lilian is dressed in her usual – a white flowing dress to match her long flowing light brown hair with flowers behind her ears. I have no idea how old she might be. I know she’s lived in that trailer for more than twenty years – longer than my wife has been in Chico – but her age is impossible to gauge. She could be thirty as easily as fifty – though simple math suggests she’s closer to the later. Her teeth are white and straight and she almost always smiles. I saw her frown and shed a tear once after a cat friend of hers died but then five minutes later she was smiling again. She understands the efficiency of positive thinking but I’ve never been able to convince myself of the notion.
Back in town they’re fighting over a disorderly events ordinance – by the time you read this it will either have been approved or not. Overseas they’re fighting and dying in the streets for reasons nobody clearly understands. But today, here an hour away from Chico we are drinking tea.
There is nothing like Lilian’s tea. It is sweet and thick with honey and slightly blue. I don’t know what she puts in it – I don’t ask and if I did I know her answer would be vague. “A little of this and a little of that.” You know the story. I drink a glass of that tea and I am smiling before it’s even half gone. My eyes can see. The world looks bright and shiny new again. This must have been how it looked to Adam and Eve – maybe the snake too.
Eventually we end up back in that garden. The clothing disappears somewhere. Who knows where? The nudists tell you not to look at the naughty bits but we look and they are not naughty anymore. We laugh because there is no reason not to. My wife and I disappear to spend some time alone together. Time has become strange and shifty. It doesn’t matter. In an oak grove we stumble across a minstrel in a dark suit drinking from a bottle of gin and taking a wiz. His teeth are bad and his hair is shockingly red. He smiles through mangled teeth and his laugh is a prolonged wheeze. Then he sings us a tune as sweet as any we’d ever heard. He is like a bird and then he disappears but joins us all later at the trailer for a cup of Lilian’s tea.
Eventually night falls and the bugs come out but they don’t bite. We laugh with them as they flit about us in the twilight.
Lilian starts a small fire and over time it grows larger until we are warmed and illuminated by it and then we begin to see the old gods, and the ancient gods swarming around us like the mosquitoes earlier. We don’t pray to them – we don’t have to. They are here with us. We only smile and cry and laugh and sing and wonder at this incredible world and the why of it all. Then those thoughts are gone too and we just are – one with everything and nothing, one with everything we can see and one with everything we cannot, everything that is there and the things that are not. My skin tingles and burns and disappears. Trish is a smiling pool of luminosity. I cannot keep a straight face. I cannot consciously do anything anymore except to love and to be loved and to be.
Lilian’s Tea.
Lilian is dressed in her usual – a white flowing dress to match her long flowing light brown hair with flowers behind her ears. I have no idea how old she might be. I know she’s lived in that trailer for more than twenty years – longer than my wife has been in Chico – but her age is impossible to gauge. She could be thirty as easily as fifty – though simple math suggests she’s closer to the later. Her teeth are white and straight and she almost always smiles. I saw her frown and shed a tear once after a cat friend of hers died but then five minutes later she was smiling again. She understands the efficiency of positive thinking but I’ve never been able to convince myself of the notion.
Back in town they’re fighting over a disorderly events ordinance – by the time you read this it will either have been approved or not. Overseas they’re fighting and dying in the streets for reasons nobody clearly understands. But today, here an hour away from Chico we are drinking tea.
There is nothing like Lilian’s tea. It is sweet and thick with honey and slightly blue. I don’t know what she puts in it – I don’t ask and if I did I know her answer would be vague. “A little of this and a little of that.” You know the story. I drink a glass of that tea and I am smiling before it’s even half gone. My eyes can see. The world looks bright and shiny new again. This must have been how it looked to Adam and Eve – maybe the snake too.
Eventually we end up back in that garden. The clothing disappears somewhere. Who knows where? The nudists tell you not to look at the naughty bits but we look and they are not naughty anymore. We laugh because there is no reason not to. My wife and I disappear to spend some time alone together. Time has become strange and shifty. It doesn’t matter. In an oak grove we stumble across a minstrel in a dark suit drinking from a bottle of gin and taking a wiz. His teeth are bad and his hair is shockingly red. He smiles through mangled teeth and his laugh is a prolonged wheeze. Then he sings us a tune as sweet as any we’d ever heard. He is like a bird and then he disappears but joins us all later at the trailer for a cup of Lilian’s tea.
Eventually night falls and the bugs come out but they don’t bite. We laugh with them as they flit about us in the twilight.
Lilian starts a small fire and over time it grows larger until we are warmed and illuminated by it and then we begin to see the old gods, and the ancient gods swarming around us like the mosquitoes earlier. We don’t pray to them – we don’t have to. They are here with us. We only smile and cry and laugh and sing and wonder at this incredible world and the why of it all. Then those thoughts are gone too and we just are – one with everything and nothing, one with everything we can see and one with everything we cannot, everything that is there and the things that are not. My skin tingles and burns and disappears. Trish is a smiling pool of luminosity. I cannot keep a straight face. I cannot consciously do anything anymore except to love and to be loved and to be.
Lilian’s Tea.
Jesus Camp
Indoctrination and Isolation
We watched a truly scary documentary film this weekend called “Jesus Camp.” The film follows a handul of Evangelical Christian children as they attend church and then a summer camp in Devil’s Lake, Idaho. The children put on Christian-themed plays and musicals and listen to a series of different speakers talking about issues like abortion and, well, mostly abortion really. The children get up and testify – they talk about how they have been “saved.” Mind you these kids are all of ten years old and they are up on stage talking about how their lives were empty before they found Christ. The kids are encouraged by the counselors to address their sinfulness and to beg for their forgiveness. Many of the kids spontaneously break down and cry – some are huddled in heaps on the ground, rocking and weeping because of their alleged wickedness. One particularly horrifying counselor condemns Harry Potter and rails against Americans inability to fast. This I found confusing as this counselor had to be pushing three hundred pounds. Interestingly this same counselor seemed to have a great deal of respect for the Islamic suicide bombers because of their zealotry and their willingness to die for their religion. She seems to be perplexed by the fact that American Christians don’t have the same devotion to their faith and she speaks of creating “children soldiers” to fight in the name of Christ. Another obvious ex-drug addict attacks the concept of evolution and takes the children on a field trip to Washington D.C. where they tape their mouths shut with red tape and write the word “Life” across it.
At first the film just pissed me off. The words “child abuse” and “ignorant” came up frequently during and after the viewing. I felt an urge to punch people. Initially I felt like the film was a waste of time because ultimately it pointed out a problem I am powerless to change. If people want to believe something I think is preposterous and if they want to home-school their children and indoctrinate them with those same beliefs there isn’t a whole lot I can do about it.
But I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last couple of days and I realize that there are things we can do about it on an institutional level. First off we need to be aware of the phenomenon. 25% of the American population is Evangelical Christian. That is a huge voting block. As a group they want more Christianity in government. They do not believe in a separation of church and state, they are not tolerant, and they are angry that religion has been ejected from the public school system.
Second we need to realize the code-language they employ. School vouchers sounds like a good idea – people should be able to choose where their children go to school. But the school voucher issue is being pushed mostly by Evangelicals who are fearful of the public school system and want to be able to use public monies to send their children to religious schools. This is an end-run on the separation of church and state.
Ultimately I have to believe that the tactics of indoctrination and isolation used by Evangelicals will render them powerless. Ours is a nation of tolerance and if our children aren’t raised to understand that there are different systems of belief then they will flounder when they eventually enter into main-stream society. I think a lot of those kids may eventually reject what they’ve been taught at such a young age. How can a ten year old kid feel empty and that he or she is in need of salvation? These feelings only exist because their parents and mentors are encouraging them to feel that way. But what happens when these kids hit their teens and the hormones start kicking in? What happens when they think they have been saved and then they feel empty? And what happens to these kids emotions when their role models who are so judgmental eventually reveal themselves to be imperfect moral arbiters?
The televangelist Ted Haggard appears in the film and the kids are thrilled to meet him. There is no mention of his subsequent fall from grace – it was revealed that he had taken crystal meth purchased from a male prostitute.
Kids are kids – they shouldn’t have to think about abortion and sin and sexuality. These are adult issues and kids will grow up and have to deal with them soon enough. In the mean-time let them indulge in a bit of innocence while they still can because once innocence is gone it does not come back.
We watched a truly scary documentary film this weekend called “Jesus Camp.” The film follows a handul of Evangelical Christian children as they attend church and then a summer camp in Devil’s Lake, Idaho. The children put on Christian-themed plays and musicals and listen to a series of different speakers talking about issues like abortion and, well, mostly abortion really. The children get up and testify – they talk about how they have been “saved.” Mind you these kids are all of ten years old and they are up on stage talking about how their lives were empty before they found Christ. The kids are encouraged by the counselors to address their sinfulness and to beg for their forgiveness. Many of the kids spontaneously break down and cry – some are huddled in heaps on the ground, rocking and weeping because of their alleged wickedness. One particularly horrifying counselor condemns Harry Potter and rails against Americans inability to fast. This I found confusing as this counselor had to be pushing three hundred pounds. Interestingly this same counselor seemed to have a great deal of respect for the Islamic suicide bombers because of their zealotry and their willingness to die for their religion. She seems to be perplexed by the fact that American Christians don’t have the same devotion to their faith and she speaks of creating “children soldiers” to fight in the name of Christ. Another obvious ex-drug addict attacks the concept of evolution and takes the children on a field trip to Washington D.C. where they tape their mouths shut with red tape and write the word “Life” across it.
At first the film just pissed me off. The words “child abuse” and “ignorant” came up frequently during and after the viewing. I felt an urge to punch people. Initially I felt like the film was a waste of time because ultimately it pointed out a problem I am powerless to change. If people want to believe something I think is preposterous and if they want to home-school their children and indoctrinate them with those same beliefs there isn’t a whole lot I can do about it.
But I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last couple of days and I realize that there are things we can do about it on an institutional level. First off we need to be aware of the phenomenon. 25% of the American population is Evangelical Christian. That is a huge voting block. As a group they want more Christianity in government. They do not believe in a separation of church and state, they are not tolerant, and they are angry that religion has been ejected from the public school system.
Second we need to realize the code-language they employ. School vouchers sounds like a good idea – people should be able to choose where their children go to school. But the school voucher issue is being pushed mostly by Evangelicals who are fearful of the public school system and want to be able to use public monies to send their children to religious schools. This is an end-run on the separation of church and state.
Ultimately I have to believe that the tactics of indoctrination and isolation used by Evangelicals will render them powerless. Ours is a nation of tolerance and if our children aren’t raised to understand that there are different systems of belief then they will flounder when they eventually enter into main-stream society. I think a lot of those kids may eventually reject what they’ve been taught at such a young age. How can a ten year old kid feel empty and that he or she is in need of salvation? These feelings only exist because their parents and mentors are encouraging them to feel that way. But what happens when these kids hit their teens and the hormones start kicking in? What happens when they think they have been saved and then they feel empty? And what happens to these kids emotions when their role models who are so judgmental eventually reveal themselves to be imperfect moral arbiters?
The televangelist Ted Haggard appears in the film and the kids are thrilled to meet him. There is no mention of his subsequent fall from grace – it was revealed that he had taken crystal meth purchased from a male prostitute.
Kids are kids – they shouldn’t have to think about abortion and sin and sexuality. These are adult issues and kids will grow up and have to deal with them soon enough. In the mean-time let them indulge in a bit of innocence while they still can because once innocence is gone it does not come back.
Crumbling Bridges
Our nation’s infrastructure is crumbling. Many of us are learning this for the first time because of a massive bridge collapse in Minneapolis, MN, that made cost dozens of people their lives and made the national news. The governor of Minnesota defended the bridges “structurally deficient” status by pointing out that there are over 80,000 bridges sharing the same rating throughout the United States. Reassuring, isn’t it?
Country music legend Merle Haggard has been talking about our nation’s crumbling infrastructure for years. As a traveling troubadour Mr. Haggard is in a rare position to be able to criss-cross the nation’s highways and by-ways on a semi-annual basis. Unlike your typical businessman or tourist Haggard and his crew travel by bus and as such they see first-hand the status of bridges, tunnels and roads. Haggard has been outspoken about the need for money to be redirected into our own country’s maintenance and, unfortunately, the recent bridge collapse puts him in the position of being able to say “I told you so.”
Now politicians and journalists alike are scrambling to cover the story of our nation’s inferior infrastructure after the fact. At this point we are so far behind its not even funny. But people don’t want to hear about maintenance, politicians don’t want to address it, and journalists don’t want to cover it. Maintenance is dull. The news instead needs to grab headlines and sell advertising. In a debt-driven consumer based society no one wants to spend their hard-earned money on making sure their bridges are structurally sound – not when there are shiny new iPods to buy and shiny new bombs to drop.
Ebb and Flow
There is a common term in computer programming that goes like this: garbage in garbage out. It applies to everything, government, sex, road maintenance, music, economics. We get what we give and if we ain’t giving we aren’t gonna be doing much getting. So if you’re sitting around and thinking you don’t like what you’ve got then think about what you can contribute to life to make yours better. It doesn’t take much more than effort – but even effort can be hard to come by when things seem entirely futile.
Baby Steps
Only within the past few years have I really gotten good at producing work. That comes in the form of writing, art, and music and I’m not saying I’m the world’s greatest at any of these endeavors but I have gotten myself into the habit of creating. That happened for me because of a couple of things. First I abolished any notions I had of perfection. I know I’m not perfect, I never will be perfect, and ultimately I’m not trying to be perfect. I’m just trying to do the best I can, or sometimes not even that. Sometimes I just try and do something just to get myself rolling and I don’t even try and do it all that well. Second I started learning how to break larger projects down into a series of steps. Trish and I have a Buddhist saying we picked up from somewhere: “Snails climb Mount Fuji.” By moving in a direction we get somewhere. It sounds simple enough but it is really easy to just stop moving.
In laboratory experiments rats that were subjected to a relatively moderate dose of cocaine acted as one might expect – they became agitated and anxious and moved faster. But when rats were subjected to massive doses of cocaine they stopped moving altogether. The theory is that the rat’s brains were so over-stimulated by the cocaine and their neurons were taking in so much information at once that they simply could not function. This happens to us when we are over-stimulated by all the worries and stressors that life can throw at us. If we aren’t able to quiet our brains and boil our path of action down to a series of tangible steps we can easily become overwhelmed to a point where we cease to function productively.
Slow down, reach out. Breathe and stretch. Maintain your bridges and keep your feet moving forward. The best time to start is now.
Country music legend Merle Haggard has been talking about our nation’s crumbling infrastructure for years. As a traveling troubadour Mr. Haggard is in a rare position to be able to criss-cross the nation’s highways and by-ways on a semi-annual basis. Unlike your typical businessman or tourist Haggard and his crew travel by bus and as such they see first-hand the status of bridges, tunnels and roads. Haggard has been outspoken about the need for money to be redirected into our own country’s maintenance and, unfortunately, the recent bridge collapse puts him in the position of being able to say “I told you so.”
Now politicians and journalists alike are scrambling to cover the story of our nation’s inferior infrastructure after the fact. At this point we are so far behind its not even funny. But people don’t want to hear about maintenance, politicians don’t want to address it, and journalists don’t want to cover it. Maintenance is dull. The news instead needs to grab headlines and sell advertising. In a debt-driven consumer based society no one wants to spend their hard-earned money on making sure their bridges are structurally sound – not when there are shiny new iPods to buy and shiny new bombs to drop.
Ebb and Flow
There is a common term in computer programming that goes like this: garbage in garbage out. It applies to everything, government, sex, road maintenance, music, economics. We get what we give and if we ain’t giving we aren’t gonna be doing much getting. So if you’re sitting around and thinking you don’t like what you’ve got then think about what you can contribute to life to make yours better. It doesn’t take much more than effort – but even effort can be hard to come by when things seem entirely futile.
Baby Steps
Only within the past few years have I really gotten good at producing work. That comes in the form of writing, art, and music and I’m not saying I’m the world’s greatest at any of these endeavors but I have gotten myself into the habit of creating. That happened for me because of a couple of things. First I abolished any notions I had of perfection. I know I’m not perfect, I never will be perfect, and ultimately I’m not trying to be perfect. I’m just trying to do the best I can, or sometimes not even that. Sometimes I just try and do something just to get myself rolling and I don’t even try and do it all that well. Second I started learning how to break larger projects down into a series of steps. Trish and I have a Buddhist saying we picked up from somewhere: “Snails climb Mount Fuji.” By moving in a direction we get somewhere. It sounds simple enough but it is really easy to just stop moving.
In laboratory experiments rats that were subjected to a relatively moderate dose of cocaine acted as one might expect – they became agitated and anxious and moved faster. But when rats were subjected to massive doses of cocaine they stopped moving altogether. The theory is that the rat’s brains were so over-stimulated by the cocaine and their neurons were taking in so much information at once that they simply could not function. This happens to us when we are over-stimulated by all the worries and stressors that life can throw at us. If we aren’t able to quiet our brains and boil our path of action down to a series of tangible steps we can easily become overwhelmed to a point where we cease to function productively.
Slow down, reach out. Breathe and stretch. Maintain your bridges and keep your feet moving forward. The best time to start is now.
College
I remember college being a time of concentrated learning – a lot of change can happen in a very short span of time. People discover who they really are or start charting a course for the future. It’s a time of experimentation and adventure. In college I discovered passions I didn’t know I had and those four plus years shaped my personality and put me on the road to who I am today and who I will become tomorrow. Good times, bad times, and some just plain weird times –I learned a ton and made some incredible memories and friendships.
Looking back there were things I would do again and a few other things I would not recommend.
Do
Change your major. If you get a few years into school and it turns out you’re not really enjoying what you’re studying, try something else! People end up in a certain major for a variety of reasons – earning potential being near the top of the list. But if you can find something you’re really passionate about you will give yourself the potential to have a truly fulfilling career.
Play in a band. If you even have the inclination to start a band do it! You don’t have to be good – in fact almost all great bands started out as not very good bands. Chico has a rich musical history and many of the successful bands from this town were spawned on the Chico State campus. And even if your band never tours the country or signs to a label you’ll still have a great time. Music is a tremendous release from the day to day stress of school, work, whatever. Be part of the river that is music.
Start a Business. If you are the entrepreneur type Chico is a fantastic community to start up a business. Two businesses that started in a garage and eventually went on to national success are Sierra Nevada Brewery and Synthesis Magazine.
Take up an activity. I went to school in Southern California and ended up surfing because pretty much everyone in my dorm was a surfer and it became obvious that if I didn’t pick it up I’d end up spending a lot of time by myself. At home in the suburban east bay area I never imagined I would be a surfer but once I started I was hooked. I surfed everyday for years. I was part of a closely-knit group of friends who spent a lot of time in the water together and I took several memorable surfing trips capped by a three month expedition that took me and three friends up and down both coasts of Mexico in a white Dodge van.
Party. I’m not saying you should go out and get bombed every night, (though I’m not saying you shouldn’t) but you should go out and socialize. There is a space or a scene for everyone and the social skills you develop in college will help you in any field you eventually go into.
Go to shows. I went to a fair amount of music shows but honestly I wish I went to more. Nothing beats catching that quality band in a small venue and if you go to shows regularly here in town you will be treated to some great performances.
Don’t
Don’t fall in love with pot. I got into pot-smoking pretty heavily and ended up spending more time than I wish I had anchored to my couch. Lame. I know some people handle pot better than others but for me I probably wasted years of my life being stoned. I’m not saying don’t get stoned, but do get off the couch. You’ll never look back at your life and say “gee I wish I spent more time on the couch.”
Don’t have a steady girlfriend or boyfriend. This was my biggest college mistake. I had a college girl-friend for three years. Then two months after we graduated we broke up. Stupid stupid stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking and I wish someone had shook me and said “hey dumbass, look at all the girls around here!” Seriously. Stupid.
To Sum Up
Do stuff. That’s my overall point here. Be spontaneous, try new things. Soon enough life and all it’s responsibilities will come crashing down around you and you’ll be spending more time than you ever could have imagined sitting in traffic, talking on the telephone, or staring at a computer screen. Now is the time to get out there, go to an art-show, a demolition derby, a rock show or a rodeo. Find your scene while trying others. Keep your eyes and your mind wide open and experience everything college life has to offer.
Looking back there were things I would do again and a few other things I would not recommend.
Do
Change your major. If you get a few years into school and it turns out you’re not really enjoying what you’re studying, try something else! People end up in a certain major for a variety of reasons – earning potential being near the top of the list. But if you can find something you’re really passionate about you will give yourself the potential to have a truly fulfilling career.
Play in a band. If you even have the inclination to start a band do it! You don’t have to be good – in fact almost all great bands started out as not very good bands. Chico has a rich musical history and many of the successful bands from this town were spawned on the Chico State campus. And even if your band never tours the country or signs to a label you’ll still have a great time. Music is a tremendous release from the day to day stress of school, work, whatever. Be part of the river that is music.
Start a Business. If you are the entrepreneur type Chico is a fantastic community to start up a business. Two businesses that started in a garage and eventually went on to national success are Sierra Nevada Brewery and Synthesis Magazine.
Take up an activity. I went to school in Southern California and ended up surfing because pretty much everyone in my dorm was a surfer and it became obvious that if I didn’t pick it up I’d end up spending a lot of time by myself. At home in the suburban east bay area I never imagined I would be a surfer but once I started I was hooked. I surfed everyday for years. I was part of a closely-knit group of friends who spent a lot of time in the water together and I took several memorable surfing trips capped by a three month expedition that took me and three friends up and down both coasts of Mexico in a white Dodge van.
Party. I’m not saying you should go out and get bombed every night, (though I’m not saying you shouldn’t) but you should go out and socialize. There is a space or a scene for everyone and the social skills you develop in college will help you in any field you eventually go into.
Go to shows. I went to a fair amount of music shows but honestly I wish I went to more. Nothing beats catching that quality band in a small venue and if you go to shows regularly here in town you will be treated to some great performances.
Don’t
Don’t fall in love with pot. I got into pot-smoking pretty heavily and ended up spending more time than I wish I had anchored to my couch. Lame. I know some people handle pot better than others but for me I probably wasted years of my life being stoned. I’m not saying don’t get stoned, but do get off the couch. You’ll never look back at your life and say “gee I wish I spent more time on the couch.”
Don’t have a steady girlfriend or boyfriend. This was my biggest college mistake. I had a college girl-friend for three years. Then two months after we graduated we broke up. Stupid stupid stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking and I wish someone had shook me and said “hey dumbass, look at all the girls around here!” Seriously. Stupid.
To Sum Up
Do stuff. That’s my overall point here. Be spontaneous, try new things. Soon enough life and all it’s responsibilities will come crashing down around you and you’ll be spending more time than you ever could have imagined sitting in traffic, talking on the telephone, or staring at a computer screen. Now is the time to get out there, go to an art-show, a demolition derby, a rock show or a rodeo. Find your scene while trying others. Keep your eyes and your mind wide open and experience everything college life has to offer.
Cognitive Dissonance
It is pathological to go through life thinking that you are always right. It is healthier to understand that sometimes your course of action is wrong. A productive life-style necessarily includes a process of self-assessment and occasional redirection. That being said we are hard-wired to believe that we are morally upright, well-meaning people. When we do wrong our brains will naturally go into overdrive trying to justify to ourselves why what may seem wrong is actually right. So to admit that we’ve done something wrong is fundamentally unnatural and difficult. But it is so important to growing as a person because if we can’t acknowledge our mistakes then we have very little to no chance of fixing them or avoiding those same mistakes in the future.
Along these lines I was speaking to a colleague of mine at work the other day about the “sphere of influence.” Basically there are only a limited number of things we can control and worrying or complaining about the things we can’t control only hamstrings our own progress. For instance I have no control over the weather. I can complain that it is hot or cold but ultimately all I am doing is stealing time and emotion from myself. By accepting the weather for what it is I can then move forward to things I can control. I can get my grunt-work done in the morning when its cooler and then do my desk-work in the afternoon when the temperature is blazing.
This is just a dumb example but the point is that by only devoting energy to those things we can actually control or influence we actually expand that sphere of influence. Our power grows because we are using it wisely.
Along these lines I was speaking to a colleague of mine at work the other day about the “sphere of influence.” Basically there are only a limited number of things we can control and worrying or complaining about the things we can’t control only hamstrings our own progress. For instance I have no control over the weather. I can complain that it is hot or cold but ultimately all I am doing is stealing time and emotion from myself. By accepting the weather for what it is I can then move forward to things I can control. I can get my grunt-work done in the morning when its cooler and then do my desk-work in the afternoon when the temperature is blazing.
This is just a dumb example but the point is that by only devoting energy to those things we can actually control or influence we actually expand that sphere of influence. Our power grows because we are using it wisely.
Burn Season
Gordo Gets a Facelift
A couple of summers ago I had a testy exchange with God that resulted in our chopping down two mature liquid amber trees after the Almighty used them to bombard our roof-top with limbs. We’re still feeling the repercussions but over time trials are turning to tribulations. One of the after-effects of those huge temperamental trees being felled is that we now have a really wonderful outdoor fireplace. We had so many rounds left behind by the tree trimmers that the only solution we could figure was to burn them. A few hundred dollars worth of cinder-block, rebar and concrete later Gordo was born! I had never built a fireplace before and I elected to rely more on aesthetic and instinct that knowledge or research. As a result during the first burning season Gordo had some problems. A fair amount of the cinderblocks crumbled away to dust. Eventually the entire back of the beast fell out so that the firebox really only had two sides. There were also some issues with smoke but I haven’t tested the new design yet so I am reluctant to say too much about that. Well I spent the summer repairing Gordo and I am happy to say that he is intact and ready for the upcoming fire season.
In addition to the structural repair work I also spent some time applying a mosaic finish to the outside and a layer of white mortar to the inside of the firebox. All in all I’m very happy with the finished product – though it will be interesting to see how Gordo holds up as the burn season goes on. We generally end up pushing the capacity of the fireplace – particularly after 12-18 beers – so I’m sure that Gordo will be tested.
Bon-Fire of Banalities
After the recent two days of drizzle some good friends of ours burned three huge piles of brush and tree stumps on their almond orchard. There is something therapeutic about a good burn. Those massive piles of flame got me thinking back to ancient times when fire was precious and powerful – before our energy came through wires and cables. Even today, just over the lip of the second millennium since Jesus walked the earth, most of our power still comes from fire in the form of coal. Six hundred coal power plants provide about 50% of our countries power. Interestingly my friends burning the almond scraps have an entire side of their roof-top covered with solar panels. It’s fun to watch their power meter running backwards.
World’s Going Crazy Again
In Burma Buddhist monks are protesting nearly two decades of repressive military rule. By the time you read this things there may have come to a head. The government is growing increasingly impatient with the crowds of pro-democracy citizens and a curfew has been put in place. In the United States Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s request to visit Ground Zero and lay a wreath was denied and his speaking engagement at Columbia University was protested and condemned. The United Auto Workers are on-strike. What’s new? Everyone wants black and white solutions to problems that are infinitely grey. Government’s want order and repression is a tried and true way to keep things orderly… but for how long? We need to talk and listen to people – even, no, especially to people we don’t agree with. After all we gain nothing by talking and listening to people who already essentially believe what each other are saying. And as for the auto-workers – talk about a rock and hard place. There are economic realities at play on both sides of the ball. Any agreement they come up with now will probably only be torn down in future negotiations.
The Ride of Your Life
The world is changing right in front of our eyes. Good, bad, those words don’t mean much any more. The only fact is change and whether that change eventually becomes good or bad is ultimately going to hinge upon how we react to it. So get ready for it. Embrace it. Strap into the rocket car that is reality and get ready to hit the switch. I can’t tell you where it’s going to end but I can guarantee to you that it is going to be one hell of a ride!
Happy burn season!
A couple of summers ago I had a testy exchange with God that resulted in our chopping down two mature liquid amber trees after the Almighty used them to bombard our roof-top with limbs. We’re still feeling the repercussions but over time trials are turning to tribulations. One of the after-effects of those huge temperamental trees being felled is that we now have a really wonderful outdoor fireplace. We had so many rounds left behind by the tree trimmers that the only solution we could figure was to burn them. A few hundred dollars worth of cinder-block, rebar and concrete later Gordo was born! I had never built a fireplace before and I elected to rely more on aesthetic and instinct that knowledge or research. As a result during the first burning season Gordo had some problems. A fair amount of the cinderblocks crumbled away to dust. Eventually the entire back of the beast fell out so that the firebox really only had two sides. There were also some issues with smoke but I haven’t tested the new design yet so I am reluctant to say too much about that. Well I spent the summer repairing Gordo and I am happy to say that he is intact and ready for the upcoming fire season.
In addition to the structural repair work I also spent some time applying a mosaic finish to the outside and a layer of white mortar to the inside of the firebox. All in all I’m very happy with the finished product – though it will be interesting to see how Gordo holds up as the burn season goes on. We generally end up pushing the capacity of the fireplace – particularly after 12-18 beers – so I’m sure that Gordo will be tested.
Bon-Fire of Banalities
After the recent two days of drizzle some good friends of ours burned three huge piles of brush and tree stumps on their almond orchard. There is something therapeutic about a good burn. Those massive piles of flame got me thinking back to ancient times when fire was precious and powerful – before our energy came through wires and cables. Even today, just over the lip of the second millennium since Jesus walked the earth, most of our power still comes from fire in the form of coal. Six hundred coal power plants provide about 50% of our countries power. Interestingly my friends burning the almond scraps have an entire side of their roof-top covered with solar panels. It’s fun to watch their power meter running backwards.
World’s Going Crazy Again
In Burma Buddhist monks are protesting nearly two decades of repressive military rule. By the time you read this things there may have come to a head. The government is growing increasingly impatient with the crowds of pro-democracy citizens and a curfew has been put in place. In the United States Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s request to visit Ground Zero and lay a wreath was denied and his speaking engagement at Columbia University was protested and condemned. The United Auto Workers are on-strike. What’s new? Everyone wants black and white solutions to problems that are infinitely grey. Government’s want order and repression is a tried and true way to keep things orderly… but for how long? We need to talk and listen to people – even, no, especially to people we don’t agree with. After all we gain nothing by talking and listening to people who already essentially believe what each other are saying. And as for the auto-workers – talk about a rock and hard place. There are economic realities at play on both sides of the ball. Any agreement they come up with now will probably only be torn down in future negotiations.
The Ride of Your Life
The world is changing right in front of our eyes. Good, bad, those words don’t mean much any more. The only fact is change and whether that change eventually becomes good or bad is ultimately going to hinge upon how we react to it. So get ready for it. Embrace it. Strap into the rocket car that is reality and get ready to hit the switch. I can’t tell you where it’s going to end but I can guarantee to you that it is going to be one hell of a ride!
Happy burn season!
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