Language Barrier

Mexican standoff at the brain drain

2012-02-11T10:49:00.000-08:00

Writing doesn't come easy to me. It's generally a miserable experience trying to get a sentence or two straight, real work on my part, but then concentrating on anything for long is hard. My attention is as divided as a swarm of bees working a meadow. Naturally this kind of thing has a diagnosis. There's a diagnosis for everything isn't there? And thanks to Big Pharma, there is a drug to conveniently "manage" it but I have no interest in living my life high on speed. Okay. I am always battling my inertia, but cycling, walking, weightlifting, swimming etc., along with my improvised version of mindfulness, however imperfect, are way better than that. It's just, as ol' Zeke would say, a better way to live.

As you might guess, this blog is one of my regular stops in the meadow. At the moment I am taking a break from two other tasks that have pressing deadlines and are locked in a Mexican standoff.

In other news, breakfast was a huge event in the Bird Park this morning. Only now, the quail finally wandered off giving me an opportunity to restock the apple treats since a chattering of starlings dropped in and ravaged them.

Okay. Gotta go.

Clippy

2012-02-06T19:20:00.000-08:00

Ah, little Clippy. How I miss you.

Fuck the Smithsonian Magazine.

Whew!

Medium of communication

2012-02-01T11:45:00.000-08:00

"Taking this as a warning, the superior man forestalls a violent collapse. If a man were to pile up riches for himself alone, without considering others, he would certainly experience a collapse. For all gathering is followed by dispersion. Therefore the superior man begins to distribute while he is accumulating." I Ching, Hexagram 43

I have been warned. Actually, "advised" is a better word and I am grateful for the nudge. The I Ching is a trusted mentor.

Of course, I understand if you dismiss any online "ancient Chinese oracle" as a mere computer game. When I first found it, I had my own reservations. I've consulted the I Ching for years but via the book and coins. I'm not a purist. They don't even use coins, preferring instead traditional yarrow stocks but, tempted by convenience, I experimented with the online version and gradually it has become my main, go to, source. After all, binary code is just another medium of communication.

So, the question for which I received Hexagram 43 (excerpt above) was, "Why is writing so hard for me?"

A few words before sleep

2012-01-30T21:01:00.000-08:00

Once again, I crank the wheel and roll the page forward. It's night, 9:01 to be exact. Was. That is all.

Sirenia Shadows

2012-01-25T13:17:00.000-08:00

After watching this video from Build by Wildman forwarded by M. Lee, I'm thinking it would be a step up to come back as a manatee or dolphin. Also, nice track from Palace Of The Innocents by Glitch Mob.

Sirenia Shadows from Built By Wildman on Vimeo.

Happy Squirrel Appreciation Day

2012-01-21T16:34:00.000-08:00

If you've been thinking about baking a peanut cake for the neighborhood squirrels, today's the day. It's Squirrel Appreciation Day.

I decided that a good way to appreciate squirrels would be to register the Bird Park with the National Wildlife Federation. That would make it a certified wildlife habitat but when I got to the final step the NWF wanted twenty bucks. Ah well. Maybe later.

Anyway, happy Squirrel Appreciation Day. Now go appreciate some squirrels.

Outtakes, San Francisco 01.12

2012-01-19T21:41:00.000-08:00

San Francisco from Oakland Hills

Chinatown conversation

SF Chinatown

Angry Bird & Co.

Woman in black, SF Chinatown

Chinatown apartment bldg.

AA Cafe, SF Chinatown

Buddha and dragons

Stop SOPA and PIPA.

2012-01-17T23:15:00.000-08:00

503: Service Unavailable

Fade to Black.

On Wednesday January 18, 2012 thousands of sites, including Wikipedia, Craigslist and this outpost border crossing will be dark. This is in protest because the US Senate is considering internet censorship bills, SOPA & PIPA. If either one of these bills passes, your favorite sites could disappear forever.

PROTECT IP Act (PIPA) would put anyone in legal jeopardy who linked to a site anywhere online that had any links to copyright infringement. And Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) would, to put is simply, completely gut and unmake the Web.

We don't want the world that would leave us in. If you don't want it either, visit AmericanCensorship.org for instructions on contacting your Senator. The Electronic Frontier Foundation has more information on this and other issues central to our freedom online.

This is the largest online protest in history. Join in by blacking out your site and urging everyone you can reach to contact Congress now.

For more info also go here, here, here and here.

PROTECT IP / SOPA Breaks The Internet from Fight for the Future on Vimeo.

News at 3:52 PM

2012-01-16T15:52:00.000-08:00

Time to roll this thing forward. We're in So. Oregon at the moment and driving to the Bay Area in the morning. More family business. A couple of years ago M. Lee's sister had a sudden, baffling break with reality. For her own safety, we had to move her out of her apartment and into assisted living and ever since, and till death do us part, we must monitor her care. It's been a couple of hard years for her but the good news is lately things have been getting better. New meds, thanks entirely to M. Lee who never gives up.

Generally this is a turn around trip but this time, after such a sad Christmas, we're staying a few extra days for some RnR. We've rented a house by Lake Temescal in N.E. Oakland. It's a million dollar place M. Lee found on AirBnB. It costs less than it would to stay at our usual crappy, noisy, worn out motel. If you haven't heard of airbnb, check it out. It's definitely a game changer.

Oh, and happy Martin Luther King day. BTW, what's up with it being in January? January is a crappy time to have a Day. Who wants to go to a BBQ in January?

Moment before dawn

2012-01-10T06:43:00.000-08:00

Burfi by Srivalli

6:43 AM: Breakfast is out. The world is quiet. The Bird Park emerges from the dark. I am waiting for the birds to arrive. This morning there is burfi.

7:16 AM: Even the grackles came.

No One Sees You Like Your Dog Does

2012-01-08T10:46:00.000-08:00

Jean-Paul Sartre Cookbook

2012-01-07T09:31:00.000-08:00

Marty Smith

.
Credit goes to M. Lee for digging up this article posted by Paul Vincent Spade, Professor of Philosophy at Indiana University. I did a little research on its author Marty Smith. Seems he's currently playing guitar for the Portland band Slutty Hearts. The Free Agent, one of Portland's many fine but unfortunately now defunct alternative newspapers, published it in 1987 and Utne Reader, now Utne, republished it in 1993. Maybe to appreciate it you have to be a depressive type like me but I think it's hilarious.

The Jean-Paul Sartre Cookbook

Happy New Year!

2012-01-01T00:01:00.000-08:00

Buon 2012!

Thea Bella, Madonna of the Bath

Even in this sad time there is light and joy. Thea and her Mom are visiting us for a few days. Funny how I so naturally think of my daughter as her mom but there you have it. The generations roll on and so do the years so here's to all Raphael's angels. Felice anno nuovo!

Jim

2011-12-29T15:03:00.000-08:00

"How strange a vehicle it is, coming down unchanged from times of old romance, and so characteristically black, the way no other thing is black except a coffin—a vehicle evoking lawless adventures in the plashing stillness of night, and still more strongly evoking death itself, the bier, the dark obsequies, the last silent journey!" -Thomas Mann

M. Lee's Dad passed away two days before Christmas.
Disassembling his music room was a bleak obsequy.

At twelve he was playing bass for the Chicago Symphony.
At fifteen, and well on his way to 6'9", he played
professionally in Chicago clubs but from
behind a curtain because he was white.

In his early twenties he moved to San Francisco
and caught the end of the 50s North Beach Bebop scene.

Elvis wanted Jim to join him. So did the Jefferson Airplane.
He refused. He was a purist.

He left the Baby Grand to Nolan,
his piano player for the last forty years.

WINTER
for Joe & Jim

In the evening we
carry down our dead
they leave our hands willingly
above Dog Star watches
cold, white
as on ancient evenings,
Dog Star
bringer of rain.

excerpt from Dead Reckoning by asha

Winter Solstice 2011

2011-12-21T22:38:00.000-08:00

Okay. It's nearly midnight but I don't like to see a Winter Solstice pass without wishing you a good day and new year. Of course this Solstice marks the beginning of the final countdown to the end of the Mayan Long Count Calendar (5125 ears long) and some say the end of time and life on earth. It's always something.

And tonight I learned that Al Linde, an old friend, died about a week ago. Seems he was on blood thinners following knee surgery in preparation for the new baseball season, suffered a freak accident blow to the head and just bled out. WTF, Al?!

Submissions Update,12.11

2011-12-15T21:16:00.000-08:00

To date, of the six poems I submitted in October, two have been rejected (with comments), two remain unanswered (I'm assuming rejected) and two were accepted. After the first of the year, I'll send out more.

'Road's Eye View', a poem I wrote in Mexico a few years ago, was recently accepted by Sein und Werden for publication in their January online issue dedicated to Futurism. Sein und Werden features work that is "experimental, non-genre, erotica, horror, philosophical, noir, crime, hard-boiled, surreal" so cool. The deep night voices from that seaside swamp found roost.

Baxter Blackwell

2011-12-10T13:33:00.000-08:00

Not Baxter
but you get the idea.
Source

Roy commented on a previous post that all my Bird Park lacks in complexity is a stray dog and complimentary dog catcher which brings us to the subject of one Mr. Baxter Blackwell. I take a lot of photos, some might say an insane number of photos of the passing parade, the Great Circus, the Theatre of the Absurd and Wonderful to which I say...why not? M. Lee has created what is, in practical terms, a Bottomless Pit of Storage and I have a fine camera so I take it as a personal responsibility to try and fill it. But, and I say this with much sadness and regret, I do not have one photo of the rag-a-muffin darling of our neighborhood, the fickle and fanciful, the wayward and whimsical, the ever and absolutely uncontainable hairy Houdini of scruffy little mutts, the one and only Mr. Baxter Blackwell (regrettably deceased).

I can't remember the number of times I scooped Baxter up and returned him to his home and family, who did not even realize he'd slipped out again only to see him, within the hour, trotting down the sidewalk on yet another walkabout. What mystery did he seek, this inscrutable lover of the open road? Was he driven by a mere doggie's thirst for adventure or was he under the glamour of a faerie spell? I tended toward the latter but, in any case, Baxter was a beautiful woolly gypsy soul. Whenever I saw him trotting by, whether or not I could capture him, I wished and prayed that the world were a safer place. Baxter was far too small and completely irrepressible. Unfortunately, it didn't end well. Not long after his death the couple divorced, sold the house and moved, as we say in these parts, back East. Happy trails, Baxter Blackwell, wherever you are.

Fatty report

2011-12-09T12:22:00.000-08:00

Not Fatty the Hawk but
another Fatty from last year
just before he snagged and
devoured one of the finches
enjoying breakfast
in the Bird Park.

We've had a blue sky cold week here in Nevada, just the kind of weather that drives birds to the feeders but Fatty the hawk has been hanging around so, for a couple of days, everyone stayed away. Fatty's a saucy little fellow. I invited him to go elsewhere but he was totally unimpressed. All I got for my effort was a "One step closer, girlie, and you're mine" look and an impassioned pitch from M. Lee about Predator Rights. I know. Hawks get to eat too. I'd just prefer they do it somewhere else. I don't like it when any of my bird buddies gets eaten alive. Finally Seven o'clock Magpie, the Bird Park's self-appointed magistrate, took it upon herself to make Fatty's life miserable enough that he stayed away until late yesterday afternoon and so far today he hasn't showed up at all. Now, if the damn cats would bugger off...

Common ground

2011-12-03T16:02:00.000-08:00

Note to self: G'ville is hosting annual Festival of Lights this evening. When we go out tonight, do everything possible to avoid it.

I'm just now watching a couple of finches duke it out in the Bird Park in yet another late afternoon food fight. They get intense when seed levels drop to the bottom hole. Plus it's cold out there. And in here. I'm bundled up. Even my hair is mashed under the blanket. I am immobile as a giant winter doll, other than the freewheeling fingers typing these words. It took a few goes before they agreed to tap out "words" rather than "worlds". In the meantime, it seems to me that the repeated hard drives to the letter "L" scared the finches off. In spite of all their chest bumping, they are timid fellows.

Now, balancing along the fence top, the quail covey makes its twilight return to scratch and peck the remains of the day.* Three of them linger at the water bowl awhile then wander off to nibble the apples. Gray fat birds fading into eventide.

*All due respect to Kazuo Ishiguro.

Last Day of November and Submissions Update

2011-11-30T09:32:00.001-08:00

Welcome to the last day of November 2011.

I am reluctant to see the month pass as it means that the very fine photo calendar of Baby Leo's first year is coming to an end. At this point Baby Leo is well into year two and goes by the moniker Mister Leo. That's all good but god it goes fast! Anyway, good morning or, as they say in Norwegian, God Morgen!

Last night we returned home from Oregon where we spent Thanksgiving. Of course the 7 o'clock Magpie was at the Bird Park bright and early for breakfast...as always. And, as always, the rest of the charm did not show up. It generally takes them a couple of days to figure out that I'm back. She and her mate gobbled up as much as they could and then spend the rest of the morning stashing the remaining peanuts and kibbles around the yard for later. I think of her as a magpie genius, which is quite a compliment given that magpies are already, not only one of the smartest birds, but also among the most intelligent of all animals. Among other talents, they are the first non-mammals proven to recognize themselves in the mirror. Facial recognition is a big deal, especially for birds. When we were kids, my brother's blue parakeet Chi-chi, may he rest in peace, spent an awful lot of time cooing and nibbling his tiny mirror. Clearly, the little dummy believed his girlfriend was the two-dimensional floating head in the glass. Whether or not Chi-chi's relationship in anyway resembles online obsessions will remain a discussion for another day.

In other news, I just learned that Pele, one of the poems I submitted in October to The Fine Line, was accepted and will be included in its upcoming fourth issue. It's a digital publication so unfortunately no complimentary copy but they do post a free download of each issue should anyone care to print one out. Not me but I do appreciate the recognition. And to their credit they accept reprints, which I consider god damn enlightened. So, now Pele has been published twice, once in Skidrow Penthouse, which is a print publication and does pay with copy, and now in The Fine Line.

Tofurky Day

2011-11-24T13:04:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

Don't worry, my love. We're having tofurky.

Lily Shreds!

2011-11-21T09:16:00.000-08:00

Pure joy in motion...

Lily Shreds trailside. on pinkbike.com

When Science becomes Art or 25 Ways to Tie a Scarf

2011-11-17T09:04:00.000-08:00

I am a great fan of neck scarves but, until today, did not know the Science of the Well-Tied Scarf, then M. Lee sent me this delightful video in which Wendy turns science into art.

For more fashion wizardry check out Wendy's Lookbook and her youtube site for some and cool hair tutorials.

How to avoid meaningful work and meaningless despair

2011-11-10T16:06:00.000-08:00

In case you happen to be doing NaNoWriMo this year, Paula over at Lite Motifs has posted a list of things you can do to avoid working on your project. Her suggestions are very useful, not only for NaNoers, but for anyone wanting to distract themselves from pressing and important work. And, as distraction is my special area of expertise, I felt compelled to add a couple of ideas to her list. They work. I myself managed to waste today's precious last hour of daylight drudging them up and writing this post.

For starters, try this zippy but soothing video of guys getting left behind when the International Space Station reboosts.Then watch and re-watch it again and again and again for, you know, as many times as you can stand it.

And if you still need more, there are always surfer dog videos. I include them as a special homage to dear little Bella the happy dog, recently departed. Surfer dog videos are like popcorn. You mindlessly want more, even during times of deep despair when life is slipping through your fingers and you are crushed by an overwhelming sense of meaningless tedium and you are least able to remember when you last had even one fleeting second of fun.

Rest In Peace, lIttle Bella

2011-10-30T18:40:00.000-07:00

Tarra & Bella

Remember Tarra and Bella, the elephant and dog who were inseparable friends? Bella was the flamboyant little stray who showed up at the Elephant Sanctuary in Tennessee about eight years ago and she and Tarra, the Sanctuary's founding elephant, quickly became completely devoted to one another. Last Wednesday, as Sanctuary residents often do, Tarra and Bella spent the night in the hills. The caregivers at the Sanctuary believe that Bella must have briefly wandered away from Tarra's side and was attacked by coyotes. Of course Tarra rushed to her rescue and drove them off but, sadly, Bella died anyway. I don't hold it against the coyotes. They have to eat too but Bella, sweet sweet Bella, I mourn for her and Tarra and the purity of the love they shared.

The following day, caregivers noticed Bella was missing, she's always near Tarra so, fearing trouble, launched a search for her. They found the little dog's body by the Asian elephant barn Tarra and Bella share with a few other elephants. During the night Tarra had carried her friend home.

Happy days

BP Update

2011-10-27T07:26:00.000-07:00

In case you're lying awake nights wondering if the little birds rediscovered the Bird Park, worry no more. They have and all is well again. Even the crows dropped by for breakfast the other morning. They are really quite impressive. Even the impertinent magpies show them respect.

======================

Just so you know, the tip of my left index finger has a painful splinter blister on it which I nevertheless endured to type this report.

Back to the starts right direction

2011-10-24T20:48:00.000-07:00

You know I'm with Willie on this one.

Wonders big and small

2011-10-23T10:04:00.000-07:00

Baby Leo & Thea Bella at the Oregon coast.
Photo by Kristiana

I'd sure like to know what wonder Baby Leo is expounding on to his cousin, Thea Bella. From the looks on their faces, it's gotta be good.

Bird Park report

2011-10-23T09:25:00.000-07:00

The magpies showed up for breakfast the morning after we got home but, though the feeders are full and waiting, the little birds still haven't caught on that we're back. :(

Jiggity jog

2011-10-21T10:18:00.000-07:00

Home again, home again but, as I've mentioned before, it doesn't exactly feel like home. Base camp again, base camp again jiggity jog. This concludes the trip begun in May.

Ridin' the Dog

2011-10-17T17:39:00.000-07:00

This is the first post from my new Droid and my first post from a Greyhound bus. I just spent the week in Portland, first with my friend Kimberlee and her two-year old son Reid then with Thea Bella and Baby Leo who is no longer a baby but an exhuberant toddler. Reid was a doll and first class traveler. I say that after sharing a room with him and exploring Portand with him and his mom via mass transit. Thea Bella is heartbreakingly sweet, smart and beautiful and, at 14 months, Baby Leo is a story teller, soccer champion and wild man. More on them later.

I am loving my new phone but I can't quite say the same thing for the Dog.ù Well, it's not too bad, better than tolerable, an ok way to pass an afternoon, but not exactly "fun“. The quality changes with the passengers but the seat is really comfotrable. However, at the moment there's a good old girl chatter box in the front seat who hasn't drawn a breath since she boarded in Eugene. The driver doesn't mind. He's a rolling talk show host expert in the fine art of passing the miles. We learned during the Portland to Eugene leg of the journey that he's been driving for 37 years. He talked about some of the crazy things that have happened on his bus over the years, stabbings, shotings, births, heart attacks, naked people jumping of the windows. Anything and everything you can imagine has happened on his bus although he made a point of explaining these shenanigans are confined to the lower 1% but spread out over 37 years even 1% adds up hto a whole lot of crazy. A French speaking magician type, black top hat, vest and pants, white gloves barded in Eugene. So far, no rabbits.

The Upper 1 Percent

2011-10-06T11:27:00.000-07:00

"WE ARE THE 1 %"

Traders at the Chicago Board of Trade verbally mooned the rest of us, the 99 %, with this sign in the window the other day. The irony is that so many Conservatives still support Wall Street and its political party of choice.

Screw the bloody bastards.

Update, Saturday Oct. 8:
We're dog-sitting Heidi for some friends who are currently vacationing on the East Coast. They ended up attending the Occupy Wall Street demonstration in DC and, as it happened, got interviewed by a reporter from the New York Times. He is quoted in the opening of the article:

“There’s a lot of people here with different ideas and various causes,” he said, “but I think that the bottom line is that we feel we’ve surrendered our nation to a corporatocracy.” - Gary Wood, Minden NV

Well said!

Heidi says: Way to go, guys!

Steve Jobs, RIP

2011-10-05T19:33:00.000-07:00

I tried

2011-10-04T23:05:00.000-07:00

Señor Pierna

2011-10-04T07:08:00.001-07:00

Yay. I was worried about him. The one-legged magpie showed up at the Bird Park the other day. He's traveling alone. After watching for a few minutes I saw why. Two magpies still hanging around from breakfast, 7 and her friend who keep their eyes on the place all day, pounced and pummeled him. I broke it up and he came back later on his own but what a drag. Magpies are a rough crowd.

He's a persistent fellow though. In fact, he landed on the fence just now. The breakfast bunch left about 10 minutes ago. He's enjoying sunflower seeds. Oops. I spoke too soon. Heidi, who I'm dog-sitting for the next week, just wandered into the Bird Park.

Ok. Reset. Heidi's back inside. I tossed out a few more peanuts and he's back. This guy needs a name. Señor Pierna. Mr. Leg.

7 o'clock Magpie, faithful as she ever was

2011-09-29T07:42:00.000-07:00

Yay! The 7 o'clock Magpie just showed up. That's my girl! She's a bit late this morning but hey! Other than a few days a couple of weeks ago, I haven't been here for five months to put out her morning peanuts so that's pretty good. I may be a bit obsessive but, when she hadn't arrived by 7:05 AM, it did cross my mind that something terrible might have happened to her but, barring injury or death, I never doubted for a second that she'd be by for breakfast. She's knows I'm good for it. We've got a thing.

Note to future self

2011-09-28T22:40:00.000-07:00

The Gathering a photo by ashabot on Flickr

Home. It doesn't feel like it. I've been mostly gone or coming and going since last March. Five months. We got back this afternoon from the loop to Seattle for my high school reunion then Oregon to see family and friends and now... home. It's a strange word. I filled the bird feeders, picked up the mail, watered the cactuses and now, before trundling off to bed, have checked in here.

Hello. That is all for now.

Reunions and the point of no return

2011-09-16T23:25:00.000-07:00

Seattle. We're staying in a great basement apartment on 92nd for the next couple of nights. M. Lee found it on AirBnB, which is the place to look if you want cool, cheap lodging. I'm here to attend my high school reunion tomorrow night. I'm a bit apprehensive. I was a total outsider so it's not like I'm here to re-live a lot of happy memories but I grew up with these people and, even though they are all basically strangers, I am interested to see some of them again before, you know, we're all dead. Also, and on a coldly voyeuristic note, there is a delicious ghost-like, time-travel quality to reunions that adds a curiously attractive twist. I didn't go to the big cocktail party get together tonight though. M. Lee and I had veggie pho at a tiny pho house on Capitol Hill instead. It's been a long drive wrapping up our summer travels, Nevada to Centroamerica to Florida to Seattle with points in between and today's leg of that journey was enough for one day.

Also some of the people from my Catholic elementary school days want to meet for brunch tomorrow before the Big Event but I'm passing on that too. And after brunch a few of them are going to visit some of our teachers at the old nuns home. It would almost be worth it to see them without their habits. They were always so mysterious in their black Bride of Christ head to toe robes, stiffly starched white bonnets, collars and huge crosses with the limp body of Christ nailed to the huge crosses laying where their breasts should be... but not this time... and probably not ever. I don't believe in putting people or animals in zoos, for Christ sake. I don't have anything to say to them. I'm not Catholic anymore. I'm not even Christian any more. It was bad enough visiting the Dallas Krishna Temple. They all want to believe you still belong but you don't.

Touch down and take off

2011-09-12T08:54:00.000-07:00

Tonapah's legendary ghost,
the Lady in Red

I just got back from my bi-annual weekend in lovely Tonopah, semi-ghost town and still and always, Queen of the Silver Camps. Once again, the guy ahead of me in the hotel check-in line won the Tonopah Station lucky roll of the dice free room. I did not, again. But the Big News from Tonopah is that somebody finally bought the Mizpah Hotel, probably for pennies on the dollar, and the place is scheduled to reopen in a couple of weeks. I hope they do better making their deadline than the Belvedere Hotel across the street. The sign announcing the Belvedere's 2008 reopening still hangs on the front of the building above the broken windows, fading into oblivion. This trip, I counted more broken windows at the ol' Belvedere but was puzzled by the lack of pigeons who normally reside there. I am not going to say foul play? No. I will not even think it.

Anyway, the Mizpah wins my Tonopah Zombie Hotels Back from the Dead Award (for the day) so my hat is off to them. I hope I get a chance to tour the place before it closes again. I have been photographing it through the windows for years. I really want to meet the Mizpah's legendary Lady in Red who tragically, in a crime of passion, was murdered on the fifth floor back in the 1920s. It's not because the new owners claim she leaves pearls under people's pillows. I dig ghosts.

Tomorrow we leave again, this time for points north. Got to have tea with Ms. Thea Bella and Baby Leo. I realize I'm pushing the limit still calling Leo a baby now that he's turned one, but come on... I've hardly spent any time with him. Once he starts walking I'll stop. It won't be long. These days it's all he wants to do. So, our odyssey Cross Country American Road Trip (Florida and back again to Washington and back again) won't be officially over until mid-October when Kimberlee, Mr. Reid (he's two) and I do our Portland meet-up.

So, what the hell am I doing fiddling around with my blog? Must. Pack. Now. See you on the road.

The 7 O'clock Magpie and Battlelines Drawn

2011-09-04T08:38:00.000-07:00

Here's what's amazing. The 7 o'clock magpie showed up this morning at 7 o'clock. This is our first morning back after an absence of four months and she is still coming to the Bird Park at 7 am to check for peanuts. Yes, peanuts were waiting. Naturally, the first thing I did when we pulled in last night was fill the bird baths and feeders and put some peanuts on the table. Some hornets have colonized one of the empty feeders so they get to keep that one (I'll toss it when they move out this winter) but I filled the other three. That's enough for a start. Anyway, how 'bout that magpie?

That's the good news.

The bad news is that it just about took the jaws of life to jack myself back into my office this morning. The shelves are always crammed and bloated with stuff giving the room that WALLS_CLOSING_IN feel then last night I cluttered what precious little work space I do have with the things I brought in from the car... laptop, tablets, notebooks, various writing instruments, books, camera, sun glasses, phone etc. plus the different bags I carry everything in. And the tiny floor space has been reduced to a single channel connecting the door to my chair where I sit marooned in this flotsam of projects unfinished, current and yet to come. It's paralyzing. Must dig my way out. Must organize.

When we were driving across the country, anticipating this encounter and wooed by that special camaraderie born of the road, I invited M. Lee to help me gut my office and reorganize this winter. I may regret that. He is way too eager to help but I am already crushed by even the idea of tackling this. After all, the stuff is not to blame. It is my own self I must wrestle and tame, or at least cut a new deal with. As it stands, my mind has colonized my refuge from it. No one else can stand up to me but me.

Trip notes

2011-09-02T23:31:00.000-07:00

We're in Kingman Arizona for the night. One more day and we'll be home but I'm really missing Florida. I miss Alligator Creek, the little house and the pineapple palms and I miss Frida Kahlo the squirrel and her friends. I miss all the critters who sing in the night. I miss the egrets and ibises. I miss the congregations of little plovers scurrying in and out with the waves. I miss watching the squadrons of venerable pelicans pass overhead, wings outstretched, gliding the thermals like ancient gods. I miss the Great Blue Heron who likes to people watch at the beach. I miss the friends we discovered there. I miss the gulf.

I am reading 'Love in the Time of Cholera' by Gabriel García Márque as we drive across the country.

When we were in Dallas the other day we ate dinner at Kalachandji's, the very excellent vegetarian restaurant at the Hare Krishna temple. I lived at that temple many years ago.

Must sleep now. We have to drive through rush hour in Las Vegas tomorrow morning.

Frida Kahlo the Squirrel RIP

2011-08-29T23:49:00.000-07:00

This is a post I did not want to write. I've been putting if off for weeks as though writing it would make it so. But we're leaving Florida in the morning and heading back to Nevada so it's time to wrap things up around here.

I am very sad to report that Frida Kahlo the squirrel is MIA and almost certainly dead. And I'm feeling pretty guilty because I played a part. I've been feeding a lot of squirrels and birds all summer and, of course, the inevitable happened. A hawk noticed and started hanging around. Then Frida vanished.

She's gone. It's been weeks. We both really miss her and feel the great big empty place she left behind. That probably sounds odd. After all, what kind of relationship can you have with a squirrel? But we got really attached to her. Frida had moxie. I'm embarrassed to use that word, it's corny, but it fits her. Every morning, while the other squirrels were busy chasing each other around the yard arguing over who could have a peanut, Frida was busy licking then stashing all the peanuts, one by one, into separate hiding places.

And when I threw peanuts down from the balcony, all the squirrels took off except Frida. She'd look me in the eye, cup her hands and wait for the toss.

Then, once everything was done and tucked away, she'd scamper up into her pineapple palm to savor a peanut in peace. No one dared approach her in her tree. Frida Kahlo the squirrel was like Frida Kahlo the painter... una perra nacida... born a bitch.

That tree was hers and hers alone, and even though she's gone, it's still empty.

The ghost of Frida Kahlo the squirrel?

That is except recently one morning. M. Lee call me to come quick to the window, that the ghost of Frida Kahlo had come back to say goodbye. It looked like her. It felt like her. And no, we haven't seen her since but I get the feeling that, wherever she is, Frida Kahlo is doing just fine.

Pelican's morning at the jetty

2011-08-26T07:30:00.000-07:00

We biked to the south jetty in Venice the other day. It's about 20 miles round-trip from where we're staying.

Lucky us! A mother pelican and her baby
also decided to spend the morning at the jetty.

She sunned herself on the rocks as Baby P.
paddled around in the water in front of her.

He still had that fuzzy baby look and was a total darling.
This is first time I've seen a baby pelican up close...

...and the first time I've ever had a good look at a pelican's feet.

They are huge and rubbery flippery silvery blue.
And they have toenails, amazing toenails!
I did not know that pelicans had toenails...
...and such very cool toenails at that!

On second thought.... those "toenails are probably considered claws, bird claws, she says blushing.

Local News at 20:27 hours

2011-08-19T20:27:00.000-07:00

Our time in Florida is running out. Everything feels different. I don't want to go but I am detaching in spite of myself. In fact, with all the travel we have been doing the last few years, detachment itself is becoming the normal mode. It's appropriate at this point in my life. I don't love less but with fewer conditions.

Mid night choral

2011-08-19T00:01:00.000-07:00

steamy
mid
night
cricket
plainsong
after
heavy
rain

Between worlds

2011-08-15T08:27:00.000-07:00

Time to slap a new post on top of this wobbly pyramid of words.

At the Jetty

I am always uneasy about blogging. It is time I could be working on a poem or a drawing. Why spend it here?

Between worlds

In two weeks we begin our cross-country trip to back to the west coast but I leave my heart in the tropics.

Jersey Shore 1904

2011-08-09T14:47:00.000-07:00

Atlantic City, circa 1900. Swimsuits were either flannel, serge or Alpaca, went from head to toe, included vest and collar plus skirts for the women topped off with modest caps.

And in case you are wondering.... yes.
The women are wearing swimming corsets under their suits.

Source: Shorpy

Even though we saw topless women on Miami Beach the other day, and even though no one seemed to mind or, for that matter even notice, the crowd still reminded me of the subdued, modest bathers from more puritanical times. I think it was the general disconnect people seemed to have regarding the environment itself as though being in a crowd offered protection from the power and uncertainties of Nature. Like I said before, creepy.

Diorama of a Midsummer's Day

2011-08-07T15:47:00.000-07:00

We went to Ft. Lauderdale last week to visit M. Lee's cousins and explore the area a bit. His cousins are nice fellows and basically hermits. They live in a big pleasant house in a skeevy part of town with their mother, kids, a sweet, pony-size pit bull who is not neutered and six hens they treat like children. The hens have their own place out back.

This is not their house or their boat but holy fucking god, there is a disgusting display of wealth in Southern Florida.

We saw everybody for dinner both nights and during the first day biked around Ft. Lauderdale and the second decided to check out Miami Beach.

Imagine dragging yourself shirtless across a desert of blazing hot broken glass, your back full of arrows, predator birds tearing at your flesh.

That was how Lee described driving Florida's scenic, historic coastal highway A1A to Miami Beach.

For whatever reasons, it was a grueling, unpleasant drive and then... oh joy.... we were in Miami Beach.

It was surreal but not in a good way. Every inch of ground, mangrove and shoreline in Miami is developed and has been for a long time. In spite of that it seemed to be, for the thousands laying under umbrellas or standing in the water, a lovely summer day at the beach.

To me the scene had a musty and unreal quality as though, rather than at the ocean, people were in a diorama built by a Jersey taxidermist titled Day at the Beach.

The trip left me depressed. I'm still caught in it today but it's good to be back to the small world here on the gulf.

No ghost but a mango

2011-08-03T05:36:00.000-07:00

No ghost. In fact, no nothing. Pelican Alley is closed on Tuesday. This is the second time the place has evaded me. The last time was last fall when I went in ordered but then, for seemingly other reasons, canceled and left. Hmmmmm....veeeeery strange, eh? Anyway, for the record, I do and do not believe in ghosts, like everything else and I did not see the pantie tweaking ghost of Pelican Alley today. I will try again later. The day ended with a mango party. We ate the last of the mangoes we got at Pine Island a couple of weeks ago. Except for the crappy Tommy Atkins, the one most often imported to the US, they were all fantastic. So, for today, no ghost but 11 mangoes down and hundreds to go.

Ghost of birthdays present

2011-08-02T08:58:00.000-07:00

Today is my birthday so we are going to Pelican Alley for lunch. I've been wanting to eat there ever since I learned that the place has a reputation for being haunted. According to legend the ghost of Pelican Alley's previous owner likes to give cute waitresses weggies as well as do all the usual ghost type stuff like float the sound of mysterious foot steps, radiate an odd presence, open and close doors and move shit around.

A group of female ghost hunters recently tried evoking the ghost so they could catch him on their lame video. They offered to let him "touch the fun bags" and pull their undies. They treated him like a demented circus clown with demands to "make it move" and "give me a photo for my wallet"..., "wuss boy"... "you must not be a man". WTF, ladies? No self-respecting ghost is going to give it up for that.

I'll let you know how it goes today. It is only lunchtime but if anything funny happens I'll have my camera.

Ancients. Elephants in the Sea.

2011-07-31T10:48:00.001-07:00

If you're ever in Florida's Venice/Sarasota area and want to try kayaking, or want to get on the water but didn't bring your boat, I highly recommend Easy Kayaking. It's run by a great guy named Terry Brawley who offers both guided eco-tours and boat rental. We did the tour first to get an idea of the area and ground rules and since have rented kayaks and gone on our own. The first time Lee went he got lucky and saw both dolphins and manatees. I went another day and only saw manatees. I say "only" but it was amazing. And I did bring the camera.

Kristiana, you asked me for a photo of a manatee. It's taken nearly a year darlin', but here they are....

The guys in the boat (upper left) shout that manatee are coming our way. At this point, three ancient water dwelling members of the elephant family are little more than a shadowy area below the waves (upper middle of the photo).

I stop rowing and wait. In a few seconds the manatee are swirls and dark shapes in the water before me. Could I be so lucky? They seem to be heading directly my way.

Suddenly they appear... sirenia of the sea... the ancient manatee... three graceful denizens of another world and time! Perhaps they are a family, mother, father and calf? If you look closely, you will see a little one swimming directly below the top one.

They swam directly under my kayak. I am amazed by how innocent naive and vulnerable they are. Now I understand why the manatees are endangered. They are totally trusting.

This manatee is no more than a finger length away. I could easily touch her but don't. The ICW is habitat not a petting zoo. Terry tells us that nearly all the manatees in Florida have been hit and are scared from boat propellers. That just ain't right!

Before my close encounter, I did not know that manatees are the closest living relatives of the Proboscidea (elephants) and Hyracoidea (hyraxes) or that these sirens of the sea... I say mermaids... are thought to have evolved from four-legged land mammals over 60 million years ago. In other words, manatees are a treasure.

Great Blue Heron's Day at the Beach

2011-07-28T11:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I like to people watch.

You have to admit, they are pretty interesting,
all those legs and dangly things.

This one's got some lovely blue feathers
but...holy mackerel...such a big beak!

And I always enjoy a nice stroll on the beach.

But most of all...

I love watching the sunset.

Mango madness

2011-07-24T18:23:00.000-07:00

Mango madness

We drove to Pine Island the other day and bought 11 different varieties of mangoes at the farmer's market. We'd never heard of most of them so the grower wrote the name of each mango on its skin. There's a Beverly, a Choc, a Carrie, a Hatcher, a Keitt, Kent, Lancetilla, Tommy Atkins, Valencia Pride, a Wise, for which we could find no description, and a Nam Doc Mai, a Thai mango that is supposed to be the best of all. They will probably all ripen at once. That's the madness.

We also re-visited our favorite hurricane specter, a house in Pirate Harbor that was destroyed by Hurricane Charley back in 2004. More on that later and the manatees.

Amy Winehouse, RIP

2011-07-23T16:11:00.000-07:00

Sorry it had to end this way.

Uploaded by RustlingRagazza on Jun 19, 2011

The last song Amy Winehouse performed in concert during her short life. Technically, she performed four days prior to death whens he joined her goddaughter on stage, but this was the last song she perofmed on her own
concert, for a large audience.

These are the original videos (copied many times by many) from Amy Winehouse's last ever concert held in Belgrade, Serbia on 18th June 2011. Rest in peace.

Days like this...

2011-07-22T17:16:00.000-07:00

I have about zero energy for doing blog posts these days. Probably it's the humidity. I don't know. But here I am. Habit, I guess. I hate letting the top post sit too long. We have been doing some really neat things but I stop at the thought of putting photos and words together. However, just for the record, I went kayaking the other day and three giant manatees swam directly under my boat. I could have touched them with my finger, they were about two inches below the surface, but it wouldn't have been right. They are so innocent, ancient, and vulnerable.They swept by, graceful giants of another world and time. I did not want to disturb them. I took photos but haven't uploaded them yet. I knew at the time nothing would turn out but that didn't stop me. I'll get around to posting them eventually, along with an explanation so you'll be able make out the wonder.

Other than that, lots of walking on the beach looking for millions of years old sharks teeth. We've both found several. They aren't actually teeth anymore. They are fossils of teeth, teeth turned to stone. I'm told they are from sharks that lived anywhere from one to 25 million years ago. Neither of us has found any of the huge ones, just tiny teeth, but they are cool anyway. And I've been swimming a lot, or rather wading and sometimes bobbing on Pool Noodle. Me/we? I could as well say we because we do it all together but it's my blog so I. Anyway, the water temp. is anywhere from 80 to 90 degrees depending on, you know, the weather.

And we've been riding our bikes around South Venice these perfect summer day type days, days that feel endless because, you know what I mean, they are the way life really is at heart, slow sunny blue sky low key warm moist overgrown green and full of birdsong.

Murdoch and Media as Empire and Circus

2011-07-19T08:00:00.001-07:00

Just watching the Murdoch media inquiry live on CNN and writing the blog post included below when someone shoved a shaving cream pie on Murdoch's face. LOL

-----------------------------------------------------------

Rupert Murdoch is the P. T. Barnum of the News International/News Corp media circus plus Mafioso boss. In case you don't know who Barnum is, he's the Barnum of the Ringling Bros/Barnum Bailey Circus and the guy who said, "There's a sucker born every minute".

Murdoch's formula of tabloid spectacle, fake news and propaganda backed by bribes, intimidation and criminal activity proves that that is still true, and here in America Roger Ailes, the head of News Corp, Murdoch's operation in the US, proves it with Murdoch's FOX NEWS. For too long these crooks have had the power to run politicians, law enforcement and play King Maker.

It is time to the flush this scum out of the system. They replaced truth and integrity with lurid spectacle and propaganda. Sadly, yesterday whistleblower Sean Hoare, the man who set the ball rolling on Murdoch Co., was found dead (murdered?) at his home. How many more victims have to fall before the public demands an end to this empire of thugs and clown henchmen?

2011-07-17T19:07:00.000-07:00

Tropical Storm Bret is passing through the gulf tonight. It was pretty intense for awhile but, at the moment, has settled into a steady, moderate rain, rolling thunder and lightning. Seems we are adapting to the heat and humidity. We turn off the air at night and open up the house. It's hot but, other than a few windless nights, we're sleeping okay. They say that in August things really heat up so that will be the real test.

Royal Tern

But so far, I am really loving being in Florida. It's beautiful here. I am out taking photos all the time. And birds are everywhere so automatically that make this my kind of place.

Buzzard and the Butterfly

I didn't notice the butterfly until later. I photographed a pair of love buzzards last fall in the same area but this summer I've only seen this one solitary bird. It worries me.

Full moon on Alligator Creek

BTW, I don't recommend doing hand held timer shots outside in the nude on steamy nights by buggy mangrove swamps or creeks named Alligator.

Barkie's Bad Night

2011-07-16T10:02:00.000-07:00

Barkie in better days.

Poor Barkie. A bunch of humans got into a huge fight at his house last night. He probably hid under the bed the whole time they duked it out, threatening each other, screaming, yelling, crying. They were so loud I wouldn't be surprised if they also disturbed all the birds in the area as well as the raccoons and opossums,. Opossums are especially timid. And surely Frida Kahlo the squirrel did not appreciate the ruckus though it didn't bother us. We were out on the deck staring over at his house through the dark like naked ghouls but Barkie, the poor bastard, was trapped in the house with those maniacs.

Finally the fight poured out into the street where we could see, whenever the fluky streetlight flicked on, several teenage girls circling each other as some guy yelled in a very loud voice.... "One punch. You get one punch. ONE!". Unfortunately at that point the streetlight flicker off again so we couldn't see what happened next but one of the girls cried out, "Where are we going to sleep tonight?" and he yelled back, "At my house. Everybody into the car. Come on! Get in. Now! NOW!" The streetlight flicked on just in time for us to see them drive off. We haven't seen or heard from Barkie this morning. I hope he's okay.

One down, now what about Murdoch and Ailes?

2011-07-15T05:19:00.000-07:00

Just read this morning that immediately after the FBI announced an inquiry into allegation that victims of the 9/11 attacks had their phones hacked by reporters at News of The World, Rebekah Brooks, chief executive at Rupert Murdoch's News International, resigned her position. Good, fine for a start but the bitch should be in jail.

But even that would not enough. The only way to slay this dragon is to cut off its head. If Rupert, Roger and James don't go to jail then, in spite of all the underlings who fall (are pushed) onto their swords and all the mea culpas of lesser underlings, the Disinformation Monster/King Maker machine they have spawned will continue insinuating itself ever deeper into the heart of global media, governments and society at large.

China to Tawan

2011-07-14T19:18:00.000-07:00

Here's a fun one.

Open Google Maps (Directions)

Type China as your starting point

Type Taiwan as your destination

Read Step 48

Also, it's pretty funny that all 69 driving directions begin in English but the navigation points themselves are in a Chinese script.

Morning Peanut

2011-07-12T05:00:00.000-07:00

The morning janitor has come sweeping through the theatre of my mind and requested that I move along so here's a new top post just to honor the passing of time and our incessant need for something new.

Frida Kahlo enjoying a morning peanut.

Rainy rain

2011-07-08T08:51:00.000-07:00

Florida, and after some delay, it seems that the rains have finally begun.

Invest 96

Invest 96 is currently moving through the Gulf. According to Weather Underground it has the potential for "tropical development". Here that meant all night rain and, before dawn, frogs, cicada and numerous other wonderfully bizarre sounding creatures singing their little hearts out. This morning the front of our swamp house on stilts is toe deep in water. Florida is in the sub-tropics but today is humid enough, misty steamy and gray enough that, combined with the magic of euphoric recall, it feels like one of my favorite rainy season days in Costa Rica.

It began clear and sunny, a great day for a hike, so we decided to go to the Gandoca-Manzanillo National Wildlife Refuge on the Caribbean, our goal being a certain secluded beach at the south end of the reserve. We biked to the trail head and launched on what turned out to be a grueling trek on coastal jungle paths. We had to backtrack a couple of times when trails died in impassable ravines and, once out of that fray, we slogged for miles up and down a gutted logging road that rain had reduced to bogs of mud and impossible slicks of red clay. Very slow going. Finally, after a testy little discussion on the merits of reaching the beach, we took a break on a pile of hand-milled teak slabs protruding from the vegetation. It seemed to be the site of an old manual sawmill. After lunching on mosquito, peanut butter and banana sandwiches in the gray afternoon light we, at least partially, returned to our senses and agreed that time had run out. Just after we started back it began to drizzle.

Cicada preparing to sing

By the time we got to our crappy rental bikes it was nearly twilight. Halfway back to Puerto Viejo it began raining.Then it got dark. Then the rain turned into a first class tropical downpour. The closer we got to town the harder it fell and the more crowded the road became. A few miles out, it was a circus of slow moving trucks and fast moving cars weaving through bicycles and buzzing mopeds carrying two, sometimes three people. Like us, they were dodging the trucks and cars while also weaving around hand carts and pedestrians hurrying through the rain. Everything and everyone was soaked and steamy. Luckily, headlights from passing vehicles illuminated the potholes and pools of water as well as those of us on foot and bicycle. It was so overwhelming that finally there was nothing to do but surrender to the exotic, insular, dangerous beauty of the storm. Then it was actually fun being a part of it. Of course, it helped that we made it back to the hostel alive.

As for Florida, I think we are finally acclimated. The temperature is in the 80s and it feels a bit cool. Barky isn't too happy today. It's the damn fireworks. People are still setting them off. Poor guy. He's a wreck.

Feliz Cumpleaños Frida Kahlo,104

2011-07-06T00:01:00.000-07:00

In honor of the 104th anniversary of the birth of the very excellent surrealist painter Frida Kahlo, I hope you will enjoy this video montage of her work.

Frida Kahlo, July 6, 1907 – July 13, 1954

Gracias siempre, mi amiga.

Battle Royale

2011-07-05T07:46:00.000-07:00

Frida Kahlo savoring a morning peanut

The Great Peanut War of 2011 is currently raging here in our tiny dead end hamlet along Alligator Creek. I suppose it's my fault. After we settled in I started sprinkling peanuts around the base of the pineapple palm for Frida Kahlo and, at first, all was good. She came, ate a few and tucked the rest around the yard for later. Diego Rivera showed up shortly after I started putting out a seed mix designed to attract red-headed birds. No surprise. Squirrels love sunflower seeds. Then, of course, the very passionate Leon Trotsky made his appearance. A couple of days later we worried that he had died in a fall from the porch after a failed assault on a bag of peanuts. I'd foolishly left them by an open (screened) window. Since then we've watch him fall several times more, once after attempting to hurl himself through a screenless (closed) window. Perhaps another assault on my peanut stash, now in the laundry room, but who can know the mind of a squirrel? That time we heard his little claws scratching the glass as he slid down and into the bushes. Another time he miscalculated a leap after a rival and again launched himself into the bushes. He is a tough little dude.

Most recently the notorious clowns Larry, Moe and Curly joined the show. Now all five chase each other up and down the porch screens, drain pipes, over the roof, along electric wires, through the trees and around the yard but Frida Kahlo pays no mind. She comes when there are new peanuts under the pineapple palm, chooses one, licks it all over then scampers off to stash it in its own, unique secret hiding place. I don't know if she remembers where she puts everything but she repeats the ritual until all the peanuts are tucked safely away. As for the jokers? They are too busy fighting to notice.

Diego Rivera, Leon Trotsky, Larry, Moe and Curly at it again.

Lemon Bay outtakes

2011-07-02T18:14:00.000-07:00

I have a thing for

mirrors on the ground

Yes,

that is where I found it.

You expect me to believe that?

And that is were I left it. Anyway...

I also have a thing for the letter H, aka h,

legacy of an acid trip in my 20s.

so I thought the Lemon Bay Cemetery

was pretty cool. It even provides moorage

for the H. H. Bill Anger.

Cranky cockroach

2011-06-26T16:46:00.000-07:00

Barkie says Happy Belated Winter Solstice to the Southern Hemisphere!!!

2011-06-22T17:31:00.000-07:00

Thanks Bob for reminding me about our planet's southern hemisphere where yesterday, as we in the north enjoyed the first day of summer, he observed the first cold day of winter.

Barkie says...

...barkbark barkbarkbark...

Barkie says Happy Summer Solstice!!!

2011-06-21T05:53:00.000-07:00

.. bark bark barkbarkbark....
That is all.

Home wanted --- signed the Mourning Doves

2011-06-18T09:05:00.000-07:00

A pair of Mourning Doves are deciding whether or not they can make a home with us. They spent several hours yesterday afternoon trying to find an opening in the front screen so they could check out the porch. Seems Mourning Doves prefer building their nests under roofs rather than in trees. It's not our house so we can't start nailing up dove condos everywhere but, after reading up on them, we decided we'd see about setting out a nesting box on the unscreened side porch and leave the rest up to them.

I did not know until today that the Mourning Dove is a very close relative to the Passenger Pigeon, a bird which, sadly, was hunted into extinction by stupid, greedy cruel Americans at the beginning of the 1900s. You are in luck. I do not have the will this morning to detail their dastardly methods but I will say that if karma means business about that eye for an eye thing, let it be an eye for every eye these fucktards closed.

Martha, the last Passenger Pigeon, died alone in a zoo on September 1, 1914.

Anyway, the Mourning Doves have a lovely song and I hope we can work something out so they stay.

The day in pictures

2011-06-12T21:09:00.000-07:00

Gone with the wave

You looking at me looking at you.

Me looking at you looking at me.

It rained in the afternoon

so Frida Kahlo the Squirrel
took shelter on the porch.

As soon as it stopped

she made her exit across
the screen, house left.

That is all.

Time lapse with Swami

2011-06-07T20:39:00.000-07:00

Swami, how I love ya, how I love ya, my dear ol' Swami...

As I mentioned the other day, we are still settling in but on Saturday M. Lee had to make an emergency trip to Oregon. His dad is in the hospital. (He's getting better.) Swami and I stayed here to hold down the tent. We're doing okay but it's weird being in Florida, especially at a time like this, so far from family and friends, familiar places. Alone. Well, the two of us but even Swami thinks so and he's generally up for anything. Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. I'm grateful to be anywhere. In the morning we sit on the deck, Swami and I. I have coffee and my laptop and he enjoys the trees, squirrels and birds. When it starts heating up, we close the windows and doors and put on the air. It's nice.

This afternoon I went to the beach. South Venice has community access to the gulf and a private ferry to shuttle people across the ICW so today I checked it out. While sitting in the sand looking out at the sea, a guy stopped and pointed out the turtle tracks leading from the water to the tree line. I hadn't really noticed them. Unfortunately, it's not emphasized here but this area is critical nesting habitat for sea turtles, especially the loggerheads. He claimed to have seen one that was about four or five feet long earlier today. I only hope to be so lucky.

Ibis lunching in the surf

They come at night and dig their nests deep into the dunes just above the high water mark. They've been doing it every spring for a million years and now they're are endangered. We are idiots! We're wrecking it for everyone, including ourselves. I hope the turtles have a good year. Very few hatchings make it even in the best of times.

It's twilight now, voices drifting in the window from across Alligator creek. Swami and I are tucked in, he in his little boat, me with my laptop, sketchbook and ebook. I'm reading Bangkok Tattoo, book two of a trilogy by John Burdett. It's written from the perspective of a Buddhist police detective son of a whore and set in Bangkok's red light district..

Later. It's past midnight. Swami is long asleep. I am tired. I woke up at 4 am. Morning seems like a year ago.

Venice update and a happy hummingbird story

2011-06-03T15:59:00.000-07:00

"A writer is somebody for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." --- Thomas Mann

(Even doing this nothing little blog post ended up being unwieldy and time consuming. I think I must be, above all, a puzzle person.)

Upon arrival the locals rushed to check us out.

We're back in Florida. We've been here for a few days but have mostly spent the time getting settled, which we are now, more or less. We rented a little house on Alligator Creek which is part of Florida's 8,000 miles of shoreline. Like a lot of places on the ICW (Intracoastal Waterway), the house next door has a great dock on open water, big fish swimming around the pilings. Ours does not. All there is, or all that's left of whatever there was, is a creaky lopsided walkway that dead ends in the mangroves and is slowing sinking into the shallow, murky water. If there ever was a dock at the end, it has completely vanished. As it stands, it would absurd trying to launch even a canoe from it. No big deal. The mangroves are better off without us mucking it up. The fish and birds aren't the ones leaving trash in water. What's extra cool is that at night I can hear the discrete splash of critters (alligators?) slipping into the creek. Never heard anything like that before. Plus the house is great. Very comfy.

Home sweet temporary home

Plus this neighborhood just happens to have a private beach on the gulf. Residents are shuttled across the ICU on a tiny private ferry which makes the crossing every half hour throughout the day. We haven't done that yet but we did walk down to the beach from Nokomis last fall just to check it out. The best part is that it's a turtle nesting beach, mainly loggerheads. Of course, there's not much to see but it's not about us, is it? I just hope they survive human encroachment. But this stretch of coast is pretty mellow.

Anyway, here's a feel good video for your viewing pleasure. Falconers think they've got it going on but check out this fellow. And if you like the video be sure and read the full follow-up kandwarf posts in the description. Very cool.

Costa Rica afternoon

2011-05-29T10:49:00.000-07:00

Once again I sit before the interminable blank page. The abyss. If I stop writing, I cease to exist.

Hummingbird, La Sabana

The past is in shreds and stuffed in my pocket; the grackle bathing in the pool, the old blond drinking herself to death on the long slow shuffle down (she hates everyone), the radio music playing in the kitchen... one sweet moment after the next, here then gone.

Shish kabob vendor. Fire in a shopping cart. Sunday in Costa Rica

I want to stop knowing this.

A Dog's Tale

2011-05-27T09:44:00.000-07:00

If you haven't done it already, do yourself a favor and read Mark Twain's short story, A Dog's Tale.

My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am a Presbyterian. This is what my mother told me, I do not know these nice distinctions myself. To me they are only fine large words meaning nothing. more here

The Buddha and the Ram

2011-05-23T13:47:00.000-07:00

Okay. Time to clear the set. The Rapture was a no show. Sorry. No rain checks. No refunds. Time to move on. Here at the hotel, the boy is gone as is the old woman and her son who never left the compound. Funny how attached I get to strangers on the road. Anyway, they were immediately replaced by a sad cliche of a couple... a fat old American guy and his young Latin wife. Between his arrogance and her gold Rolex there is no love lost. He would be better off just paying for sex.

Okay. On to the photos.

These are from an old, lovely Spanish hacienda just up the street from La Sabana. The place has a slightly menacing air to it, palm trees rising behind the high walls of an inner court and a statuary attached. I only managed to take a few photos before an uptight guy came out and made a point of standing around on the sidewalk. I didn't have time to get a good photo of the best part, the oddly sinister relationship between the horned ram skull and metal vase in the window and the Buddha and cherubs outside.

Notes at the end of the world

2011-05-21T15:15:00.000-07:00

So far, I haven't taken many photos this trip. The most notable ones I didn't take were of the billboards along Route 66 in Texas alerting people to the fact that May 21, 2011 is Judgment Day. That's today. This is probably my last post. I expected The Rapture would be more inspiring, that maybe I'd manage to scribble down a couple of good lines before being cast into the abyss but no. Flat sea. Flat horizon. Not even the distant ridge line of an island or a few clouds gathered on the edge. NADA. Hmmm... perhaps my mind is the abyss and I've always been in it.

Did I mention that we are in Costa Rica at La Sabana Apartotel? It's much nicer than the hostels, madhouse B&Bs, funky hotels and weird campgrounds where we usually stay, not that I don't love them, mind you. But this is actually a nice place even though it's in San Jose.

Because La Sabana is so nice, and so apparently safe, medical tourists stay here while undergoing their whatever procedures. La Sabana is a small, safe lateral world perfect to recuperate in. One day glides quietly into the next beyond the filmy curtains. It's amazing how quiet it is here, given that it is in the middle of downtown San Jose. Well, this morning about 4 am I did have to call the desk and complain about a jet-lagged Euro couple who were sitting at the table just outside our open window smoking and drinking but no big deal. They left around 9 after a breakfast of beer and cigarettes, kid in tow. They probably went to the coast to zipline and look at monkeys. Watch out for the sloths, guys. I hear they are everywhere.

There is a steady stream of people here to watch, like the friendly couple from California. They came to San Jose to go to the dentist and talk to their lawyer. Seems a couple of years ago they bought a piece of Caribbean paradise beachfront property then, after the money changed hands, discovered that they didn't actually own anything at all. The document the realtor had them sign was not the title. It was an intent to buy.

But among our more notable fellow residents is a yoga teacher from Brooklyn who is recovering from hernia surgery. He offered to let us watch the DVD of his operation but we declined, politely. It was awkward. I half expect to see a note on the billboard... Movie at 2. Bring popcorn. We call him "The Boy" because, although he's basically our age, it's like he's our love child, one gone horribly awry. He looks like Lee... tall, shaved head... but he hangs out around the pool, twisted into the lotus position, waiting for people to sit nearby he can dazzle with his grasp of pop psychology and stories of his "dangerous" jungle adventures, both lead-ins for his conspiracy theories. Nevertheless, he is clearly more like his father than me.

In any case, if the world does end today, I hope the tiny hummingbirds who spend a lot of time here beak deep in the flowers will be alright. And, if this is THE END, I guess it means that I never did get that book written you wanted me to Jim. Sorry. Anyway, you're an ASSHOLE MONSTER for denying sweet old Frank pain medication while he's dying. And, if today is Judgment Day and Jesus destroys me for being a non-believer, I guess that means that I did not finish the new poem I've been working on too long. But just the other day I did update my poetry blog, Annasadhorse. I only posted a couple of old new poems but that is a couple more poems than there were before.

Rapture do over

2011-05-20T19:39:00.000-07:00

Everybody knows that God keeps time with a sundial, not the UTC or even the GMT. I just had a horrible thought. What if He misses The Big Moment which is scheduled for 18:00 hours UTC? Does that mean we'd be stuck with all the damn Believers?

No bull

2011-05-16T11:52:00.000-07:00

Here's some good news. In their recent election, Ecuador made an important step towards becoming a more consciously compassionate society by outlawing cockfighting and banning the killing of bulls in the ring. They need to ban bullfighting altogether but it's a step in the right direction.

Unfortunately Costa Rica, along with Colombia, Perú, Venezuela, Panamá and Bolivia, still allow this barbaric spectacle. Their attachment to bullfighting is especially pathetic given it is, in fact, a legacy of the spiritual gonorrhea the Spanish pricks infected the region with when they fucked the Americas 500 years ago.

But, times really are changing...

Last year the government of Cataluña in Spain banned bullfighting there ... and ... currently Mexico is poised to ban bullfighting entirely. That is significant, especially given that the Plaza México in Mexico City is the world’s biggest bullring. ¡Viva México!

sources: The Informed Vegan and the Irish Times

I'll get around to the personal side of our stay in Costa Rica later but here's one thing... there haven't been any new earthquakes since the 6.0 the other day. Slim comfort given that a really vivid image of the concrete ceiling dropping down and crushing me as I lay on the bed runs in mind whenever I think of it but I'll take it. I just have to think more like the locals. They are very used to them. Earthquakes are a regular occurrence here.

Earthquakes and daytime TV

2011-05-13T19:43:00.000-07:00

Sandhill Cranes in a Florida shopping mall last Sunday morning. This is what I love about Florida. I wish we were there now but we decided to spend a few weeks in lovely Costa Rica before settling down in Florida for the summer.

So we're in San José at the moment. The capital. There's plenty of wildlife here too. For example, feeding the pigeons in Parque Central is wildly popular but, as much as I love birds, it seems kind of gruesome to me. It's an all day, every day feeding frenzy that feels like it might, any minute, spin out of control and you know who'd get blamed. The birds.

Holy crap! We just had an earthquake! 6.0 according to the news. The strongest this year to date. It was also felt throughout Nicaragua and Panama...this following an afternoon of repeating stories on TV about Bin Laden interspersed with images of the Mississippi flooding and Ron Paul scolding America again.

Happy Bad Mother's Day

2011-05-09T19:10:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah. I almost forgot, Happy Bad Mother's Day to bad mothers everywhere. Today is our Day. I started a drawing to commemorate it but then didn't get it finished in time. Maybe next year.

Ultimate Dog Tease

2011-05-09T18:37:00.000-07:00

In case you missed it.... this is hilarious!

U-Turn in 465 Miles

2011-05-06T23:52:00.000-07:00

Well, we made it to Florida. Tonight we are staying in a little town in the panhandle called Marianna. It took us five days, at about 500 miles a day, to get this far. If all goes well, we will be in Venice by tomorrow afternoon where we'll stay briefly before going to Ft. Lauderdale then Costa Rica for about three weeks. After that we'll return to Venice where we plan to stay for the rest of the summer.

The drive went pretty well. We only had a couple of fights, regretted only one too-close-to-the-freeway-to-get-a-good-night's-sleep motel and ate at only one really bad restaurant. We did have to battle our cheap ass GPS from time to time but it still works. That's something. And we realized something about the South that never occurred to either of us before. Louisiana and Florida have hogged a helluva lot of coastline from Mississippi and Alabama.

Eye of the Beholder

2011-04-27T14:10:00.000-07:00

I did this painting from a photo I took in Florida last fall. I believe I posted the actual photograph a few months ago. In any case, the painting was my valentine gift to Mr. Lee this year. Unfortunately, I did a little last minute touch up to the sandy area in the bottom quarter of the painting and, in the process, painted over some ruffled chest feathers and forgot to put them back in before giving him the painting. Now, he won't let me touch it up. It's his opinion that artists should not keep changing a piece once they've "finished" it. I, on the other hand, change things constantly. But it's his painting now and he won't let me touch it. I did finally photograph it so.... now I could fiddle with the digital version. This, however, is the painting, as it is.

We leave for Florida this Monday. As usual, I'm half mad running with the details of getting ready. There are so many things to do before we go. I'm taking a lunch break but now got to get back to my list. Enjoy the day.

Original photo

Local news at 11:59

2011-04-24T12:16:00.000-07:00

Source
Other than a very personal, spiritual observation, I'm not much into Easter. As far as rebirth and renewal celebrations go, I prefer the Spring Equinox and this year it was March 20th. But Thea Bella and Baby Leo are enjoying the day with candy, colored eggs and plastic ones, some filled with candy, some with quarters for college and that's good enough for me. My round about way of saying Happy Easter.

As for my friend Bill, unbelievable. Two days prior to visiting him this guy had had a a big juicy vein pulled from his leg like a worm, his sternum sawed open, his heart artificially stopped, all six blockages cut out and replaced with segments of the leg vein and yesterday he was FUCKING RED LETTER FANTASTIC. The giant slice through his chest is practically healed and he was cheery as ever. He did give the hospital staff a scare however because two days after the surgery he went for a walk on his own. He went to the chapel, I'm guessing to say thanks, but it was on an entirely different floor which was out of range of the heart monitors and set them clanging. You can't keep this guy down. Seems his Alzheimer wife entirely forgot he'd gone in for open heart surgery but even that didn't bother him. The three of us had a good laugh about it.

Other than that, I recently started using new hosting sites for the images I post here because they don't put a cap on uploads, Lafango for my own photos and Imgur for reposts of ones I find on the web. Seems I have exceeded my allotted bandwidth with this blog and after that Blogger canalizes older photo postings to make room for new ones.

My friend Bill

2011-04-23T07:43:00.000-07:00

My friend Bill, the 77 year old cool dude ski god who roller blades with his three dogs and cares for his Alzheimer wife and generally runs everyone into the ground younger than him, had bypass surgery the other day. Amazingly, and in spite of his awesome prowess, he had six clogged arteries or veins, whichever. Spaghetti. Yesterday on the phone he said he'd like to learn a little bit about eating a more vegetarian diet. Yay! That's Bill for you. His otherwise wonderful physical condition has everything to do will his perpetually open mind and willingness to change. We're going to visit him at the hospital this afternoon and bring him a starter veggie cookbook. I love this guy. We are slobs who are willing to put up with the most basic of menus... rice, beans, oatmeal, tofu, seitan, a ton of fruit, lots of veggies (fresh and frozen), a little fish, free range eggs, daily giant slices of crustless pumpkin pie etc. and a hell of a lot of Amy's and Kashi organic frozen vegetarian dinners. Bill wants to do stuff like soak and grind soy beans for veggie loafs, IOW, actually cook. After he's fed his wife and dogs, maybe we can get the leftovers.

Digital house

2011-04-21T20:52:00.000-07:00

source: www.toothpastefordinner.com

Must get my digital house in order. The "dump now/file later" method of saving things is insane to start with and now has finally grown totally and completely out of control. Duplicate versions and alternate versions of duplicate versions of poems, passwords, photos, drawings, stories, registrations, utility bills etc. etc. are scattered in various folders and briefcases on several flash drives, three computers, online storage sties and our home server.

Red bear trapped in a vending machine in Chinese mall in Concord, CA

I want the One True Version of Everything. Instead I have the chaos of unchecked redundancy breeding like worms in a bowl. And now we are leaving on our this time actually Great American Road Trip in just over two weeks and I am scrambling to tame the demons at least enough to stuff what I need on my laptop, a flash drive or two and go.

"Why? Why? Why?" she said looking at me through the glass.

Anyway, sorry I didn't post more photos from my recent trips. I had no time. Really. Baby Thea, Baby Leo, Freshman Ashley and the critters got it all.

In Thea Bella's Bird Park

Freshman study time for Ashley

Owee Conehead

Sunday morning at my brother's house

Frank still loves his morning walk
even though he's in a lot of pain.

Storytime for Baby Leo

Me at SeaTac airport

And two days after I got home, we took off again for five days in California. More family business. One year ago, almost to the day, we had to put M. Lee's sister in a residential care facility. This week we went down and cleaned out the tiny storage unit containing the last of her worldly possessions. We still don't know exactly what struck her, some form of rapid onset dementia but, whatever the case, she's not coming home.

Sign outside Chrissy's residential care facility

Monday recap

2011-04-18T23:54:00.000-07:00

My brother's garden

Since my last post, I spent time with my brother and his wife in Seattle, was home for two days then M. Lee and I came here to Southern Oregon on Friday, drove his mom to the Bay Area on Saturday to visit his ailing sister and came back to Oregon on Sunday. We will return home in the AM.

I haven't felt much like posting. I got bogged down with photos and once that happens I lose the thread. In two weeks we are leaving for Florida for the summer. I hope to be back on track by then.

It's been wonderful visiting family but not all has been well with everyone along the way. At the moment it's just too complicated to write about and not really my business to do so. Things will work their way out. Tonight I just needed to move the words along.

Once upon a time....

2011-04-11T23:07:00.000-07:00

Saturday was my last day in Great Falls so we had breakfast at Tracy's, a Montana 24-hour diner that's been serving up distinctly American cuisine for over 50 years. Tracy's is very much old school and proud of it.

For one thing, they don't accept any plastic, neither debit nor credit, only checks and cash. But they do have a website and on it boast about being a "hot spot" at night. Must be true. They have ancient juke boxes in every booth and they still work, kind of.

Ours played music, just not the selections we picked, and nothing modern. Being the last of Montana's old-time diners, Tracy's has appeared in several, as their website says, "old-time movies", including "Holy Matrimony" directed by Leonard Nimoy.

Baby Leo and Mama

Of course Leonard Nimoy has a permanent pass and lifelong honorary hero status but I wasn't surprised to read the following review of "Holy Matrimony" at IMDB.

Leonard Nimoy directing "Holy Matrimony"

"You sort of find yourself feeling the same way about it that you would about a child's school report read aloud...gently ignoring glaring flaws and nodding encouragingly."

Rumor has it that the cheese at Tracy's is Velveeta but I can not confirm that. I had the white bread French toast which came fried in bacon grease. What other totally '50s things do you notice about this table?

Baby Leo having a story before nap time.
He is a truly sweet little fellow.

I thought it was spring

2011-04-08T15:32:00.000-07:00

Montana in April

This morning we woke to snow.

By the way.... the white jacket? Other than a few black hairs from Nevada the very black, very shiny Lab, still white!

Creepy or quirky?

2011-04-07T19:39:00.000-07:00

Pierley/Redford Dissociative Affect Diagnostic

Here's a quirky test. I don't know if it's "legitimate" but it is interesting if not a bit creepy. Best not to think about your answers. I did and at one point even got a bit paranoid. Anyway, here's what I got.

"You need to help others and to be thought of as a generous and kind individual. Often you are taken advantage of and regarded as simply part of the scenery. You work best when handling the work yourself; you do not appreciate a managerial role and tend to be uncomfortable in that position. Friendship is important to you, but it is generated on a personal basis, rarely a professional one. Consequently, family life is very important to you, and is often the most important aspect. Because of a strong sense of propriety however, you will sometimes consider the eccentric behavior of your friends and family as a personal affront. Often you find it difficult to speak up about personal anguish or pain, feeling instead that it is something an individual should bear in silence. Tradition is important to you, and you feel a sense of belonging when operating within the constraints of a predictable routine."

It's not the full picture by any means but rings true. However, the part about "needing to be thought of as a kind person" is a strange slant. For me kindness is a spiritual practice, an action not a social image. And as for being "taken advantage of" etc., I've have my bouts with that but learn from them. The comment about shunning managerial positions is spot on. Getting tangled up in that kind of thing is not for me. I am an outsider. I prefer autonomy to notoriety or control over others. For me Einstein says it best... "Strive not to be a success but rather to be of value."

Friday outtakes

2011-04-02T11:09:00.000-07:00

Thea Bella & Company.

Portland afternoon

2011-04-01T15:22:00.000-07:00

Thea Bella is down for a nap. Today that means for the last hour and 19 minutes she has been in her crib cooing, singing and squeaking at her dollie. Oh and just now she commanded my presence. Gah-ma... (wait wait wait) as she (listen listen listens). She really should sleep.

Meanwhile, it's sunny outside. This being Portland (now the cooing has been replaced by a sporadic whine, squeal lament then silence as she listen listen listens)... as I was saying... this being Portland in the midst of what is forecast to be a record breaking wet Spring, a sunny afternoon is a spectacular event.

Owie the dog is here now for another scratch. Poor fellow. Mr. Cone Head. He's still recovering from the second surgery, the one to remove the metal rod in his leg. He's doing great. He's a saint, that dog.

Oh and the phone charger arrived yesterday and the phone today.Yay. Thank you, Mr. Lee. He's the best.

As for the white jacket? It's safely (I think) tucked under my raincoat in an out of the way place. Mmmmm.... better go hang it up in the closet.

Okay. Mama's home. We're off to the park. Can't waste the sunshine.

Notes from the plane

2011-03-31T15:45:00.000-07:00

Just after I got to the Southwest boarding gate yesterday I realized that I'd left my phone at home and muttered "god damn it!" under my breath in an emphatic and more or less fairly loud voice causing an old couple seated nearby to recoil and stiffen like irritated cats. I immediately plopped down, pulled out my laptop, skyped M. Lee and left a very contrite message that went something like "please please mail my phone as soon as possible, like today". Overhearing that, a really nice guy sitting one row over jumped up and offered his phone so I could call mine. That threw the cats off a bit though they managed to continue radiating disapprove. But no phone.

This is getting old. Last weekend I left my phone charger in Tonopah. A replacement is on the way. Now the phone. The worst part is that I tired, I really tried to pack right. I'm experimenting with a smaller bag and everything counts. I checked and rechecked. Two of this, one of that and not much of anything. Then I leave the damn phone.

~Contest with the Gods~

Right after the plane took off and we got the business of oxygen masks and flotations devices out of the way, one of the flight attendants rushed me a cup of coffee before anyone else got served. Perhaps you are thinking, "God! Was she that distraught"? I tell you. No. I trust M. Lee. The phone and charger will come. So why did I get two cups of coffee? Simple. The gods are toying with me. And why? Because I brought the white jacket.

This jacket has hung in my closet since I got it, two years ago. I've never worn it. I've been afraid. On me, white attracts disaster at every turn. I think about wearing white and tomato sauce foments in the can. My own pen turns on me like an inksaber possessed. Coffee refuses to stay in the cup.

As it did on the plane.

That first cup of coffee, compliments of the gods? It tipped over and spilled toward the pristine white jacket cradled safely, I thought, on my lap. It missed by half a centimeter. And when my daughter picked me up at the airport carrying her barista special? Unlikely globs of coffee sloshed at me through the lid. The score? So far? So good. It's on, bitches.

Writer wanted

2011-03-29T11:06:00.000-07:00

Matt Doig wrote this ad for the Sarasota Herald-Tribune and, yes, it's a real ad in a real newspaper. It's been making the rounds but I'm reposting just in case you missed it. And no, I don't know if the job's still open. We will be staying in Florida this summer near Sarasota so I especially like the last paragraph and plan to at least do a drive by of the paper. My kind of people.

We want to add some talent to the Sarasota Herald-Tribune investigative team. Every serious candidate should have a proven track record of conceiving, reporting and writing stellar investigative pieces that provoke change. However, our ideal candidate has also cursed out an editor, had spokespeople hang up on them in anger and threatened to resign at least once because some fool wanted to screw around with their perfect lede.

We do a mix of quick hit investigative work when events call for it and mini-projects that might run for a few days. But every year we like to put together a project way too ambitious for a paper our size because we dream that one day Walt Bogdanich will have to say: “I can’t believe the Sarasota Whatever-Tribune cost me my 20^th Pulitzer.” As many of you already know, those kinds of projects can be hellish, soul-sucking, doubt-inducing affairs. But if you’re the type of sicko who likes holing up in a tiny, closed office with reporters of questionable hygiene to build databases from scratch by hand-entering thousands of pages of documents to take on powerful people and institutions that wish you were dead, all for the glorious reward of having readers pick up the paper and glance at your potential prize-winning epic as they flip their way to the Jumble… well, if that sounds like journalism Heaven, then you’re our kind of sicko.

For those unaware of Florida’s reputation, it’s arguably the best news state in the country and not just because of the great public records laws. We have all kinds of corruption, violence and scumbaggery. The 9/11 terrorists trained here. Bush read My Pet Goat here. Our elections are colossal clusterfucks. Our new governor once ran a health care company that got hit with a record fine because of rampant Medicare fraud. We have hurricanes, wildfires, tar balls, bedbugs, diseased citrus trees and an entire town overrun by giant roaches (only one of those things is made up). And we have Disney World and beaches, so bring the whole family.

Send questions, or a resume/cover letter/links to clips to my email address below. If you already have your dream job, please pass this along to someone whose skills you covet. Thanks.

Matthew Doig

Sarasota Herald-Tribune
1741 Main St.
Sarasota FL, 34236
(941) 361-4903
matthew.doig@heraldtribune.com

More from Tonopah

2011-03-26T23:43:00.000-07:00

The strange hills of Tonopah

The road goes straight to town

Convention Center (L) Belvedere Hotel (R) home to many pigeons

Ramada casino display.

Old Roma Cafe on the outskirts of town.

Tonopah in the spring

2011-03-26T08:37:00.000-07:00

Lovely Tonopah. It's like coming home.
The baby bunny in the road

had no interest in moving for
the jeep even when I honked.

When we finally

got to the Ramada

I rolled for the free room.

It takes three of a kind to win.

The guy checking in ahead of us won.

I did not.

Another cure for writer's block

2011-03-24T10:31:00.000-07:00

Deadlines. So says Laura Miller in her recent article posted at Salon. We knew it all along, right? If you have to, you will. So, I have given myself 10 minutes to write this post. Damn. I just wasted about three of those minutes fiddling around finding albums to copy to my player and several more re-reading Miller's article. I am down to one minute. ONE MINUTE. Deadlines and decoy projects.

That's what every blocked writer really needs: something more significant they should be doing instead, an earth-shaking, life-changing project you're stealing time from to work on this little novel. Or the great novel you ought to be drafting while you knock off your memoir just for fun. Granted, inventing such a decoy project and convincing yourself that you may actually get around to it someday requires a bold and sustained act of imagination. But that's what writers do, isn't it -- make stuff up?

My "decoy project": is blogging. How fucked is that?

Plastic Bag, narrated by Werner Herzog

2011-03-21T09:13:00.000-07:00

My new favorite tale about the adventures of a discarded plastic bag struggling with its immortality as it ventures through a post-apocalyptic America.

Super Mega Moon in Minden

2011-03-20T17:27:00.000-07:00

It isn't much but it's the best of the cell phone photos I got last night as the super mega moon was rising over Minden, Nevada. It's not a good photo. It's blurry and taken through the windshield. The streetlights are bigger than the lovely moon and it was lovely. In case you've never heard of Minden Nevada, now you have. This is the one of two blocks that make up what is basically downtown.

I want this to be all there is of Minden Nevada but it's not but the way the downtown is is still kind of the way it was, which I like. By the time I got home and to a good camera and tripod, minutes later, the moon had nearly vanished behind black clouds so this is it.

Oh, and Happy Spring Equinox. I would have preferred cherry blossoms to snow but snow it is.

Kitesurfing Waikiki

2011-03-16T09:47:00.000-07:00

Kitesurfing scene by the Honolulu Hilton, March 3.

Ricardo, you are probably a purist about all this but what the hell? These are for you.