Sunday, November 25, 2007

golden bricks and purpose

i am returned to a memory where i was maybe 17.

there was a camping trip. a backpacking trip actually, starting at the trailhead at the top of the tram above palm springs. we got a late start, so we ended up catching the LAST tram up to the trailhead, and we would be hiking after sunset... in the dark.

in general, this is not a good idea.

i was with friends, and i had made the trip before, albeit during the day, so i was the local expert. it was about an hour and 15 minute hike up to a small campsite in a clearing next to a creek.

it was night time. it was only a matter of time. it took us all of 30 minutes to lose the trail.

before i knew it, we were standing on what was most definitely NOT the trail between the sound of two rivers. the forest was illuminated by moonlight between the branches. everything was either silver or black; a glittering and obscure amsel adams photograph.

honestly, i had no clue where we were anymore.

but i figured we were probably CLOSE to the trail, and we should probably head towards the sound of water... to... the.. right. yes, definitely the creek to our right.

and so we went onward, floundering, charging, tripping, laughing, cursing, stumbling through the woods in the middle of the night. every shadow behind every tree was a bear, or a crazy axe wielding woodsman. any moment now we were going to happen upon that creek that sounded so DAMN close and yet constantly eluded us, laughing the whole time.

then suddenly, i felt it.

it was a subtle change, but it was there.

the path. the trail. the golden brick road.

and just as soon as we found it, i saw the small wooden footbridge that we needed to cross, and we found ourselves at our campsite. it was one in the morning. we had walked for three hours. we had scrambled over tree trunks. we had crawled through crevices. we had doubted. we had believed. we had not turned back... not that we knew which direction 'back' was.

and yet, at the end... we were where we needed to be.

that's all. just a memory.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

finished

the clouds are still breathing, and with the sunset the interminable raindrops seem to have washed all the light out of the sky.

i finished the last page of Middlesex. i recommend it... i was planning on saving it for monday while the movers packed and shuffled furniture into crates, but the inertia was too powerful to overcome. i couldn't put it down. i was thirsty but i didn't stop to grab a glass of water. i was hungry but i didn't stir towards the kitchen.

it's not that i couldn't have if i had wanted to... i just didn't want to. reading is SO much better than packing.

and it's saturday. so there.

but now i have no excuse. i put some marley on the speakers... bob and i go way back.

off to work.

people vs. the rain

it is still raining.

occasionally the water slows from it's torrent into a drizzle and then perhaps an actual pause. it is the wearied inhale as the skies catch their breath between gross exhalations of pent up weight.

i woke up this morning again to the sound of water running off the roof and across the window panes, blurring the obscured monochromatic world of wet leaves and roosting birds.

my goal was to be productive. i intended to embody an whirlwhind of efficiency, but alas i have been anything but.

i checked my mail. i went out and bought spackle to repair the myriad of injuries that i have afflicted upon my walls over the last few years. i ate a burrito. i perused a magazine. i read 40 pages of Middlesex. i had german beer that i cannot identify because of the completely illegible script on the label... it was pretty good. i have listened to at least 5 different albums all the way through... kruder and dorfmeister... iron and wine... frou frou... japancakes... hooverphonic.

i have not packed a damn thing.

part of me would like to blame the rain... blame it on the rain, the song goes. but alas, i cannot. it is only my genetic predisposition for severe procrastination and nothing else.

the rain is not to blame.

Friday, November 23, 2007

migration


it has been raining a long time... for days even. i woke up this morning at 7am and the sky never got brighter. the heavens have alternated between night and dusk, skipping day entirely since tuesday. if i didn't turn on a light, every room in my house would remain black and obscured.

but lights have been on, in every room, and i've been working. i've been separating my things, my belongings, into those-that-will-accompany-me and those-that-will-not. with the vast majority belonging to the latter.

i am saying my own little goodbyes to books that i won't read for a year... to furniture... to surfboards... to a very lovable couch. i am segregating the inhabitants of my kitchen into two groups... half the glasses to go with me... half to go into storage. all the knives. all the pots and pans. all the spoons... i couldn't manage without spoons.

it is challenging to pack your things while you still want to live with them. there is a small tear of separation when you unplug something you use everyday and you know it'll be two months before you plug it in again. it is a guilty and dependent kind of sensation, because you know there is no reason why you NEED that particular thing every day... but you do not welcome the daily pattern change with open arms.

how much easier it would be if i could just put it all aside and read a book until the movers come. oh but i can, and that is what will happen, but for now there is the slow and procrastinated measure of steps downstairs with each armload of sundries that will find it's way either into my new home, or else the cold purgatory of storage.


Monday, November 19, 2007

wish i didn't have to sell my car

perhaps i should start off with a little background:

i like my car. i would rather not sell it. i lovingly refer to it as a 1996 VW POS... because it is.

my car is red. my car gets 30 mpg. the air conditioner will give you frostbite.

i bought my little red POS three years ago for $2500. there were some slight things that needed to be fixed up a little bit, but i figured i could take care of them fairly easily, so i only asked to go to 2500 down from 3000 that my buddy was asking. sold.

one of the things was that the alignment was a little off... the car pulled to the right... rather aggressively... and the check engine light was on ('oh that light has always been on... it's no big deal')... and the ABS light light was on.

so the next week i took it in for an alignment... 'oh and can you check out the clutch cable? it seems like there is a lot of play.'

the alignment required two new tires.

the clutch had to be replaced.

the ABS light was because three of the four wheel sensors were kaput... replaced... as well as three of the four brake calipers because they were worn out of limits... replaced.

the E-brake cable was rusted through... replaced.

'i don't know why the engine light is on... perhaps there is a part missing... but it seems to run ok.'

awe inspiring service.

so now, after four and a half grand, i've got a strong running $2500 car. BUT WAIT! as i pulled out of the parking lot... the brake pedal went to the floor.

master cylinder... kaput... replaced... make that 4800.

did i mention that the exhaust rusted through? replaced... 500 more.

i also recently totally replaced the distributor cap, spark plugs and cables. i've got a real road machine here now...

until friday, when on my way out the door to catch a flight, i climbed into my car and turned the key... VROOOOMSPuttersputter...dead.

hmmmm.... that's peculiar... it worked just an hour ago.

VROOOOOOMVROOOOMSPUtter sputter dead... shit.

i called a buddy, tore him away from his glowering wife on a friday evening at home and got a ride to the airport. disaster averted.

i had to hitchhike to work this morning, and this afternoon i came back home to troubleshoot the problem, as well as try to figure out where to tow it to.

i really don't like the idea of paying someone to move my car for me, so naturally i came up with an idea to circumvent that. i figured that as long as i maintain the RPMs above 4000, the engine stays on... it's only when they hit 3000 or so that the engine dies... so if i could find a route with minimal stops and if i could keep the engine revved then i MIGHT be able to make it the 8 miles to the garage. i gave myself 50/50 chances.

i started up, revved the gas, slipped the clutch and eased out of my backyard... step one complete. i rolled out of my cul-de-sac in 1st gear, made the left onto the side street, and then seeing the traffic was clear, pulled a california stop straight into a 135 degree right hand turn.

during that turn is when i realized i didn't have power steering... after the turn is when i realized i didn't really have brakes... with 4 miles of downhill road in front of me.

it was pretty exciting. i'd recommend the experience to anyone. trying to time your entry into a traffic circle with downshifting and E-brake and then taking said (small) traffic circle at 40 mph is a humbling experience. it really makes you appreciate all the small things we take for granted.

so, i'm still alive. the car made it to the garage and i got a ride home. to my empty fridge... well mostly empty... the milk doesn't smell too bad... maybe i'll have some cereal for dinner.

i like to live on the edge.

wisdom

there are many lessons in life, and there are just as many different ways to learn them.

here is your lesson for the day:

IF you should come home on Sunday night to find that your power has been off since 9am Saturday (since that's when it always goes out) and you see that your fridge and freezer have defrosted COMPLETELY, do not smell the sandwich fixings (ham and turkey)...

JUST THROW THEM AWAY

IF you DO smell them and they don't smell odd, do not make a sandwich with them the next morning... let alone two.

IF you DO make a sandwich (or two... to be precise), do not let it sit in your pocket for another 8 hours before you decide that it's time to eat it.

IF you DO decide to eat it... don't... it's better to starve.

that's my wisdom of the day... from me... to you

Monday, November 05, 2007

the stage

there are stories that appeal to us. they reach into your chest and squeeze. they constrict the base of your throat and push on the backs of your eyeballs until they water.

sometimes they are silly. sometimes they are tragic.

usually they involve a person... a hero... who comes to a crossroads in their life where they are faced with something overwhelming... and they release all that is unimportant to them, and reach for everything that means anything to them.

sometimes they succeed. sometimes they do not.

but overall, the inspiring part of the tale is the fact that the hero made a decision to take his fate into his hands... the hero cashed in all his chips on his dream. her path. their vision.

one must ask one’s self:

if this is a story that appeals to me, then is this hero not someone to emulate? shouldn’t i take my opportunity to follow my life’s path? my life’s passion?

it is a rare opportunity. some people have more to risk than others. people have varying amounts of support from their network of friends and family. sometimes it all comes down to timing. sometimes there is never that overwhelming catalyst to come into the picture and force a decision.

but there are always the stories. there are always examples... and somewhere inside of us, we wish for the opportunity to be thrust upon us to have to make that decision ourselves.

until then, there are stories