Dicotomy of Age

A fragile flower, struggling upright in the harsh breeze

A small spark that illuminates the darkest day

Secret longings that can never know daylight

The power to be better that knows not struggle's end

An ethereal life of happy possibility

May live within the center of a grayed reality

Where the winds heed your wave and call

Where many happy endings may be had

Your grace is in knowing that this place draws breath

A glimmer of hope where hopelessness plays for keeps

Many times thinking such joy is undeserved

But dreams also need a chance to be real

If Slayer worked a nine to five...

A life spent crawling a spiraling climb

Reaching for goals that have no name

Achieving an end that has no form

Spinning fool wheels for other's gain

Living the lie of progression

Value is not of possession

Until death you cannot see the regression

an existence of value to no one

After Sound Check

A consuming buzz fills the air

Final tune-rhythmic breath-seeking calm

Hiding behind stacks of sound

Anxiety's grasp all around

So, I avoid the glare

Beads of blackened sweat

Lines the canvas-streaks the image-the manic stare

Of the demon now on-stage

Bleeding nervous energy and rage

Enter the first set

Standing potent and proud

Anxious faces-zealous chants-for glimpses of heroes

The power of one mind

Belies what lies behind

The surface that faces the crowd

The character is what remains

The same place-the same time-living the same dream

We are in this together

Dark birds of a feather

Magic coursing through our veins

A message from Larry Smith

a Hawaiian Holistic Holiday


There are things in life that you can't explain, random acts that fall into place. It must mean that these things are pre determined or part of a plan of some kind. Enough of my rambling, you decide.

I had planned a trip to the big island before the C word came into play. I was informed that my Hawaiian airline miles would expire on the first of march and I had enough for a round trip ticket and also had a friend I could stay with, beaches on a budget, got to love it.

My first consultation with the Chemo guy, I mentioned that I was going to the big Island to find a Hawaiian healer. I had a friend (paul) that had made a visit there about 4 years ago and told me a story of an old full blood Hawaiian lady who was a healer. The problem was that I hadn't heard from this friend in almost 2 years and his phone # no longer worked. (Here's random act part #1), on the Friday before I was to leave he called me out of the blue for a question about a farm machine. I explained my situation and the need for info and directions to the healer. Paul said he would look at a map and get back to me, I was to call him when I got over there.

My sister Carole works at a health food store in Eugene and she has been a great source of information and emotional support. Her coworkers have been a bevy of info also assisting her in research and support --- Evergreen Nutrition---(Shameless plug #1).

A lady came in with a bunch of books that she gave away free and my sister picked up one.(random act #2) It was by Dr Sha(Shameless plug #2) whose premise is that through chanting one can access healing properties in ones own mind and through his help and guidance you can receive supplemental downloads from within the book from him.

Carole decided that this was a good book for me take with me, she gave me her copy (random act #3). Thank You Carole,

In getting ready for the trip I had bought a bunch of books on cancer and in the last pack I decided I was going to leave anything negative behind. The books on cancer didn't make the cut but Dr sha's did.(random act #4)

Maybe the islands have a magic all their own, you can find peace and tranquility in almost any place. The people are friendly as long as you show respect to them and their island. They are happy to see you and also happy to see you go, just the nature of a tourist based economy.

I called Paul who had the healer info. He told me to go to pu'ukohola heiau a temple built for King Kamehameha 1 so he could unite all of the island under one ruler.

I was to ask for a lady called Ma'ala. It was a park service operation and I met a very nice ranger named George. I explained my quest and he said he had not heard of this woman but he could ask Auntie Martha who had been there many years but was not in today. He would try to call her and suggested I take the 45 min walk. Good suggestion I enjoyed the walk and the knowledge of how Hawaii became united.

When I returned he said she had not heard of this lady but gave me 2 #s of healers I called both #s and only one of them called me back. (random act #5) I scheduled an appointment with her.

In the meantime I had begun to read Dr sha's book and found it quite interesting and very helpful in my condition I was soon going to have to deal with. I felt very strange and positive changes taking hold of me, subtle but none the less present. It was teaching me how to remove negative thoughts and attitudes, how to use love and forgiveness to help cure yourself and through practice of chanting one could heal anything. Wow #1

The healer www.drjanellison.com (shameless plug #3 ) She explained that she would help inform the mind of whats going on in the body. The mind has the power to heal the body the problem is that we have been programmed to turn away from what we can't touch or see. Through a series of touching on the head and body she awakened my mind to the problems in my body, she removed stress and did a small amount of acupuncture. When I rose from the table I felt as though I could of flew through the ceiling. She stated she had removed about 1000 years of stress and had awakened my mind to problems of my body so it could begin to heal. Thank You Dr Jan. Wow #2

I continued my readings and chanting at a place I call my happy place it was on a rock wall facing the ocean in Kona. Very beautiful very peaceful. My friend, Danny, who I was staying with, came by after his bike ride to my happy place and noticed the book I was reading by Dr Sha and commented that he knew people who work with Dr Sha and he gave them a call to see if they would meet with me. ( random act #6) They agreed and I went to See Jan and Al. Very nice people with big hearts and full of love and care. If I was to chant every chant in the book that Dr Sha suggests I wouldn't have time to sleep. So I explained my situation and asked for the chants that would best address my conditions.

They answered many questions and did some chanting with me. They gave me some soul songs to sing to boost my body. They did a reading on me and felt very strong that I was going to come through this with remarkable success and would open up doors for me to help many other people. Thank you Jan and Al Wow #3

My trip was nearing it's end and I was going to go diving with Danny the next day. Danny works for Big Island Divers (Shameless plug # 4). Danny drove so I went and did a nice solo dive saw all my old fish friends, listened to the whale songs and the clicks and whistles of the dolphins. Underwater is just amazing the peacefulness and the lack of outside electronic stimuli, just bliss. During the surface interval Danny found a huge pod of dolphins. Now as a dive instructor on Maui for 2 1/2 years I have seen maybe 1000 dolphins underwater and maybe 10,000 on the surface. They are always beautiful and gracious creatures. I got in the water to snorkel with them. They are usually a little shy and standoffish of people, but not this pod. As i was in the water I began to chant "Devine soul of the dolphin please heal me thank you devine" over and over again. They were all around me at mostly distances of 40 feet, so I free dove to about 35 feet and floated there, still chanting Looking at dolphins below me when I felt something rub against my leg I turned and a dolphin had come up to me and touched me and then looked me in the eye and swam circles around me as I ascended to the surface he then splashed through the water and followed me down again and took off back to the surface. All the snorklers at the surface were amazed at what they had seen, the hair on my arms may never go down. ( random act # 7) Wow #4

I had 1 more appointment with Dr Jan and told her to prepare my mind and body for the medical side of things to come. My condition on our last visit was positive and calm, no stress all parts of my body were in a very good place ready for the next course. I told of my dolphin encounter and she said it was a very good sign and dolphins have an amazing ability to heal. Wow #5

I now have a new slippery gray friend to chant through when I go through all the upcoming procedures. I am in a very good place emotionally and spiritually to begin my next and final chapter in this health issue.

Thanks to Paul, Carole, the lady who brought the book, Dr Sha, George and Auntie Martha, Dr Jan, Jan and Al, Danny, The dolphin and most of all my wife Jo who allowed me to take this trip, I know this was difficult for her not being with me I love you honey and you will be my rock through the rest of this path.

Larry

The Sunday Morning Fuzzies - Mother Nature is pissed off edition

A crazy weekend. The earthquake in Chile brought some tension for sure.  First off, I wish the best for anyone there and the best to the people here that have family over there that they haven't heard from yet. Man, too close to the Haiti incident, and Haiti was only a 7.0 magnitude earthquake, Chile was a 8.8! With the strange weather we've had this Winter (we've actually had a mild one, but most of the country has been rocked quite hard) it makes you wonder just what the hell is going on.

Amazing with the power of that quake that there weren't near as many deaths as the Haiti incident.  It shows you what a solid infrastructure will do.

Just a quick elaboration on the Richter scale if you'll indulge me. If you're not familiar with it, its a logarithmic scale and it is the general metric they use for measuring the power of an earthquake. For every whole number increase, the magnitude of the quake is 10 times greater. So a 6.0 on the richter scale is 10 times as strong as a 5.0, and a 7.0 is 100 times stronger then a 5.0. So the difference between 7.0 and 8.8 is nearly 100 times more powerful! To be more exact it is around 80 times more powerful, but you get the picture.  Mother Nature has been throwing around a LOT of weight lately. Kind of scary. Makes one question how wise that planned oceanfront property purchase is in the near future, if you catch my drift.


So all good thoughts go out to Chile, and our coast and Hawaii were spared. Next time? Who knows. Let's hope that this isn't the beginning of a worsening pattern.


I learned a few things this weekend as well.


I watched Paranormal Activity finally last night. My thoughts: One, it was kind of 'Blair Witch Project part 3' for me, but I liked it better than BW 1 (BW2 didn't even belong!) No relationship with the stories, completely different movies, just the style it was created in. The "we are video taping a real life documentary" style. I did get somewhat creeped out after watching it however, and I was hearing a few sounds that night when trying to sleep. :) 1 1/2 thumbs up on that one. I did like the ending, the alternate ending kinda sucked.


Garbage disposals don't handle beer bottle caps very well. Take my word on that. Don't try this at home.


It seems like when you go to the gym at 5 - 5:30am during the week, you see some dedicated people. Hit it at like 3pm on a weekend, and the goof balls all seem to come out. What is up with that?


The boarding kennel is fairly convinced that our dog is half Yellow Lab, half Pit Bull. Our last dog was a Lab/Pit mix, and it's a good mix. Problem is, we bought the puppy at Scamps (mistake) and he was sold as a purebred, papers and all! He was all yellow at that age, but got the white spotting on his chest as he got older. He's also stockier then a pure lab would be. We got ripped off in other words. Now we've suspected this for a while, and we love this dog and would not part with him because he's the coolest, sweetest dog that there is. It sucks though to know those pet shop bastards got one over on us. At least they are out of business now, the Clackamas Promenade one is at least. Lesson learned: NEVER buy a dog or cat from a pet store. Not only are they mistreated while they are there, but you don't know what you are buying either. Fail on the source of our puppy, Win on having the best dog you can get DESPITE those ripoff artists.


This beautiful weather we've been having is great, but can we PLEASE have at least one more good freeze? That way all the damn sugar ants and fleas won't be so bad this year. PLEASE??   Damn, it sounds almost pathetic to complain about good weather because I've been out in it as much as possible, but I hate fleas...that is all!

The Sunday Morning Fuzzies...Monday Edition

Damn, today I am feeling my age. All my good thoughts resembling... "gee I'm active and eating right." "I'm in good health." "I'm going to the gym so all is well." ...have turned into "damn, I feel old!" and "I ain't shit." When you are wishing for a walker to help you out of your chair after breakfast, you're feeling it baby. Muscle rebellion. Lower back penance for some unknown sin. Nothing like a couple of hours of beach football to work out every muscle in your body that gym equipment either can't reach, has no knowledge of, or simply doesn't care about. Someone "up there" must take evil, gleeful pleasure in watching me suffer.



But for some reason whooping ass on the teenagers with the old fogey squad (ok we were short one, so my daughter Chelsea helped us out) made it oh so worth it. We won 10 - 5 as a matter of fact, so EAT IT PUNKS!! In light of this victory I now say yes, I will hit the gym harder, care even more about my health, and start working towards the next showdown against youth, the type of performance where you prove age and wisdom (and still some decent physique) kicks butt on pure youth. Yes I will care, oh starting tomorrow maybe. When I'm not sore anymore and not wondering where I put the damn epsom salt.



So it was a great weekend at the beach. We rented a big beach house (6 bedrooms) and filled it with friends and teenagers. Good stuff. I might try it again soon and try to be sober for a major portion of the time, but not quite yet. It was too much fun the way it was.



The beach is really where I see myself growing older The city offers the opportunity to play music often (for money I mean, you can live anywhere and play for yourself, or with yourself for that matter), have a good paying job, have good schools for the kids, etc. However soon we'll be empty nesters, and the beach is a hell of a place to live. It's the 'one with nature' syndrome. The ocean makes you feel not small or insignificant like I've heard some people describe, but more like you are a part of a much larger thing. Nature goes on without you, but you can witness that beauty and power, and really be a part of the cycle in any way you choose. You may feel smaller in the grand scheme of things, but your role in life is accentuated. Your cog in the machine, no matter how tiny and unpretentious it is, helps keeps the machine running. Those great gears cannot turn correctly without your contribution. That is how it makes me feel. It's something to cherish, protect, and just be in awe of all at the same time. You are a piece of something huge and immovable, and maybe you don't have the individual power to change it's course, but you do have the power to participate in something that eludes words and defies descriptions. It just is, and always has been, and always will be.



Seaside itself is kinda crazy when spring hits with all the people everywhere, it is cool in it's own way though even when crowded. Certainly the livelihood of the local folks depend on such activity, and you can tell that they are grateful for it. The smiles on all the faces, the sheer activity and running around that people are involved in, demonstrate that gratitude tenfold. Seaside has enough on Broadway to keep the teenagers happy for the weekend, and a few decent bars for the old folks later on. The beach is right there, the games, bumper cars, bike rentals, kite shops, and restaurants are all on hand too. The shopping is not too shabby, if you like to spend your vacation time doing that (personally not a big fan, but hey it's all right there.)



Once you have had your fill of the crowds then there is mother ocean just waiting. And man, the feeling of getting up at sunrise and just walking the beach! If you hit it early enough you can practically have the whole thing to yourself, and that is really an awesome experience. Nothing comes close to just being next to the surf, breaking a sweat while looking for shells and sand dollars. It's a great way to wake up. If you can go early enough so that you return and still be the one making coffee for the sleeping in folks that just missed out on such a great experience, well that is so much for the better. It's great to share these times with the ones you love, but having your own time with it is good for other reasons. It cleanses the soul.



We got to hang out with friends that stayed with us, one friend that lives there that we never see anymore, and a couple that made a day trip to hang out with us. The only down side of a trip like that is the last day, when you're packing up the vehicle knowing that it's over and that you are just a couple hours of driving away from regular life again. Every last moment is precious, that last cup of coffee before you leave, that last thing you do in town before hitting the highway, it's like you want to milk every last minute, every single experience out of the weekend before giving it back to time and memory for safekeeping. That is when you truly know how special this time was, and how much fun it is to have great friends to share these times with. I can honestly say that I would not trade places with anyone, not when these types of moments are still in my future. I appreciate my wife, my daughter, and my friends. The Oregon coast just has a way of bringing people a little closer, making experiences a little happier and a little more intense, causing food to taste a little better, and making life a little fuller. Good times.

The Sunday Morning Fuzzies...Valentine's Edition

Happy Valentines Day...or VD Day as some of my more single friends put it...here is one holiday that is either a joy, a pain, or a farce...but everyone has an opinion on it, depending on their relationship status of course.  But first some history.




The origins of Valentine's Day seem to come from the Roman festival Lupercalia. Mars' (God of war, a mean SOB) bastard human sons Remus and Romulus founded the city of Roma, with Romulus killing his brother due to Remus mocking of the low height of the first city walls.  Boys will be boys after all.  Thusly was Rome built, not in a day as is popularly cited, but by Romulus as a tribute to himself and his fratricide.  People were funny about what they celebrated in those days but it turned out to be a good thing.  Think, if Remus would have killed Romulus instead he'd have named it Ream instead of Rome, and that would be really strange sounding. Anyway, thus the Lupercalia festival was founded by the surviving brother as a purification and fertility event. A fitting tribute. Then it evolved from naked boys smeared in animal blood to a lover's lottery (much better in my opinion then animal sacrifice), to the church getting involved and morphing the whole thing into little postcards you can give you friends to tell them that yes, once a year, I've thought about you enough to drop a buck on a stupid pink card. The church likes to step in and ruin the party you see. Thank you Travis Dahmen for the history of VDay. :) Forgive my Reader's Digest version of it please.



So here you have Valentine's Day. I'm a married dude, so I try and do a little something to bring a smile to my lover's face on this day. It makes me happy to see her happy naturally, that's what love is all about!  More importantly however, the couch downstairs is damn uncomfortable (if you know what I mean.) You play the hand your dealt, and you play to win. So I'm all in. With pocket deuces no less.



However there were many years where I was single on this day, so my interest in recognizing Valentine's Day strangely correlates to my relationship status at the time, as I think it does for most people. After all, if you don't have a father, do you pay attention to Father's Day? If you have kids of course the answer is HELL YES!! Because then you get some attention and free stuff. Very cool. But I digress. The point remains that a person's involvement relates to their relationship status. If you're single, you don't go buy your hand a card after all, that's just weird.



So you have people being mushy with each other, people ignoring it altogether, and then you have the 'progressive' couples that have decided "it's just another day, we love each other every day". Be careful here guys, she may SAY that it's no big deal, but deep down inside, you don't know what kind of emotional soup is simmering. You can take this trump card and play it, but one day you may find that your chip stack is gone. The odds line says, play the hand straight up. Don't take chances. Acknowledge and do something nice, and say that they look great in those jeans. In fact, that ass is SMOKING! I'm just saying, that couch is UNCOMFORTABLE!!



Other thoughts:



Happy Birthday to AJ, a hell of a guy. It was yesterday actually.



I had a successful day yesterday of 'cooking for the in-laws'. For this special occasion I pulled out the big guns, a little recipe in my arsenal called "Cilantro Pesto Mahi-Mahi in Roasted Red Pepper Sauce". With brown rice and cheesy steamed broccoli you can't really go wrong. And by successful I mean no one ran for the bathroom afterwards. Two points for me, yay!


The economy is so bad that I hear the Mafia is laying off judges.  I'm just sayin...



Partying with the Captain (Morgan that is) and getting up early on Sunday to hit the gym does seem to be mutually exclusive after all. Those damn commercials LIED!! If you can't trust marketing folks, now who the heck can you trust?  Bleh...back to the drawing board.



There was a shooting at the M&M Lounge in Gresham Friday night. An off duty Clackamas sheriff's sergeant shot his wife, two of her female friends, and then himself. In the bar, while the band was playing. Condolences to anyone involved with that sincerely. The world is ugly sometimes, and you don't know who will snap or where it will happen. Treat everyone with respect people, we all have our own problems, struggles, and crosses to bear. Life is too short to give pain and grief. No one wins. The M&M is a place I've played a number of times in the past in different bands, so that shit hits home.



What is up with the Olympic coverage? NBC really needs to lose this to another network that can do it right. We're in the same timezone as the place where this is all going down (Vancouver, BC) and we get tape delayed crap? We only see the USA stuff? The Olympics are global, man! Suck suck suck.



Another cup of Joe, another eventual trip to the gym, and then the honey-do list awaits. Have a great day everyone...

Should a band hang it up at some point?

The Super Bowl this year, specifically the halftime show with The Who, got me to thinking. I believe that some bands just hang on too long. Whether it is because the need the money, know no other lifestyle, or other internal and external pressures, they just hang on. Art is inspiration, creativity, expression certainly, but art is also evolution. More specifically being an artist is about evolution. Some bands seem to evolve, in some cases becoming better, in some cases not. There are other bands that never evolve and retain the same sound, the same signature elements that defined them first long ago. Again in some cases this serves a band and in other cases, exposes them.




In this first category of evolution for the better you have bands like Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, Metallica, Slayer, and Rush. You don't personally need to agree with me, that is not the point of this. However these are bands that through time, evolved and matured their sound and either retained or even expanded their audience. You have other bands that tried to evolve and didn't succeed as well. Bands like Anthrax, Thin Lizzy, Jethro Tull, etc...bands that definitely realized their heydays in the early portions of their careers.



Then there are the steadfast bands that keep the same formula going successfully. Bands Like ACDC, KISS, The Rolling Stones, have all pretty much kept that signature sound and have done very well with it. Then you have those steadfast bands that don't have what they once 'had'. The Who are in this category for me. Also bands like Cheap Trick and Venom. When I was watching that halftime show, I felt bad for Roger Daltry and Pete Townsend. Not for them personally, because they are still crazy successful, no matter what happens really. I felt bad for the memory of what they once were, and how they cannot maintain that or even come close.



Don't get me wrong, every one of these bands I have mentioned I'm a fan of. However I think that some have done better for themselves than others, either by retaining that 'magic' that got them to success or by evolving into something even better. I still play music (although I'll likely never realize the heights of any of these examples) and I'm looking at my mid 40's coming up. I have fun, I will probably be doing it to some degree until they shovel dirt on top of me. So I'm not judging anyone, simply trying to understand the differences in why some bands make it, some continue making it, and some fritter away into dotage. I welcome debate on this topic, but don't look for strong opinions from me because I'll simply listen and absorb your viewpoint. I have not made up my mind on this after all, and probably never will.



Is it the difference between an intellectual approach to music vs. three chord party tunes? Zappa was intellectual, Alice Cooper is, Rush is, U2 is. They evolved because their approach, their abilities, their dedication to the craft would not let them sit still. ACDC is not like that. There is nothing cerebral about their approach and they make no apologies, they're just having a great time. They found a winning formula, and they are riding that beast to the gates of hell. KISS is much the same way. Their attempts at evolution didn't fare quite so well, and even worse it began to turn off fans. So to their credit they realized this was happening and they adjusted back to what works. Every band is different. Every motive is unique, sometimes even within the bands themselves.



There is also a stark difference between a band hanging on too long, or an artist as an individual. Any artist that wants to keep on keeping on should do so. You do this for yourself primarily and hope that you can take some people along for the ride of course, but you play for you. At least a true artist does. Many of us may have started out with different intent, whether getting laid or partying or being popular, but anyone that persists into their second or third decade of making music is sincere in my thinking, as flawed as that may be. You should keep going on until you WANT to stop. I do think however there are bands, collections of musicians making a certain sound, that have shelf lives. Some of them can go for a long time, others maybe not so. Everything follows it's own natural progression from inception to maturation to retirement.



I'm getting older so I really like to see bands continue to rock hard, as long as they have something good to offer still. And yes to not be a hypocrite I have to allude to the fact that if a 'band' wants to keep going despite the external opinions and influences, good for them. Rock on! Screw what other people think after all, but don't be surprised when the reactions are tame. But all in all I can get behind those that keep it going. It gives me hope to see that barriers are being broken and that limits are being ignored. Next we'll have a band that doesn't even REALIZE their initial success until they are mature in life. And that gives me hope, maybe I have a world tour or two in me after all... :)

The Sunday Morning Fuzzies...Superbowl Edition

Here we are with the game about to start.  I was going to go to a party or two, but am too exhausted from a full weekend of gigging and doing the gym thang.  So I'm watching the game at home, getting quietly buzzed, planning a good dinner and a blog.  So shoot me, it's not like the RAIDERS are playing or anything...  :)





So, is there a better quarterback to ever play the game of football as Peyton Manning?  He's mobile for a pocket guy, super accurate, great arm, calls his own plays and is basically the offensive coach, marketable personality, just the package.

I think that it's at best a crapshoot giving your card to the bartender to 'leave a tab open'.  More often then not, there ends up being mistakes you either have to hash out when cashing out, or that you don't realize until the next day.  Much better to remain on a cash only basis when alcohol is involved especially!!

The Superbowl has The Who as the halftime entertainment this year.  I wonder if Roger Daltry's voice is going to hold up?  I wish John Entwistle was still alive, he was such a core part of their sound...

Commercials, commercials, commercials.  Every company seems to save their best efforts for this day.  Some years they are even more entertaining then the game itself!

You want to tell your kid to 'get a job' if they need money for this or that, but for the first time in a long time when they say "I can't find one" it's not an excuse as much as a realistic statement of this challenging job market.  Now how do we motivate them to not have us pay for everything?  Sheesh...

As fun as bars can be for going out, hanging with friends, and generally mixing it up, they become pretty depressing venues of desperation and patheticism about 5 minutes before closing time.  The die hards with no better place to go are the only ones usually still hanging out.  Man I don't want to be the last one out the door in a bar ever!!  (keeping my fingers crossed on that one...)

POST GAME SECTION...

Well I missed the last half of the fourth quarter because of an emergency call from work, something wrong with the system on our side with their database, but I could hear the guy I was talking to watching the game on HIS END....mannnnn

Manning threw a bad pass, game out of reach.  I still think he's the best QB to play the game but the Saints came out ready after halftime, Peyton set the tone with the onside kick, the rest as they say is history...

Surprisingly small amount of cool commercials this year, did the economy leave everyone so broke that they couldn't afford CBS' exorbitant Superbowl commerical rates?

The WHO was lackluster.  It was cool seeing Roger and Pete still jamming, but I swore Roger was going to lose his voice during Pinball Wizard.  Pete didn't even make a move towards smashing his guitar after they were done.  Time to hang it up maybe boys?  That stage was really killer though...

Bands that hang on too long, hmmm that's future blog material...

Have a good Sunday everyone.  Congrats to New Orleans!

What's up Radio Shack?

So a few days ago I walk to the counter of my neighborhood Radio Shack with my two pack of 9-volts. "Okay sir, can I please get your first and last name?" The young, acne challenged clerk requests. I am already in the database of course, having endured this informational sodomy many times before. "Sir, can you please verify your street address is...blah blah blah?" It is not, I've moved since the last time I subjected myself to this draconian nazi marketing routine so I must now update my information if I hope to leave with my merchandise. "Sir, we don't seem to have a valid phone number on record, can I please get your phone number?"




At this point I have two people standing behind me waiting for their turn at the information rape desk, and my face is beginning to turn purple. "My God!" I think, "next they'll be asking for my Social Security number!" "I prefer to not receive phone calls." I tell the young pimply faced clerk who's probably too young to date my daughter. "Sir, we don't share any information, it is all confidential." he croaks. "What if I don't want YOU to call me or send me anything?" I rationalize, knowing that the people behind me are becoming impatient. Don't they realize I'm standing up for my rights, for THEIR rights? "Okay, we'll just leave that blank for now." he states, implying of course that the next time I want a battery or .15 cent alligator clip, I'll be spreadeagled before the mighty Radio Shack marketing machine once again. I accept this compromise simply to end this ludicrous exchange, feeling both hassled and violated at the same time. I "took about an hour on the tower of power" as Zappa would say.



Radio Shack has the strangest business model I've ever been subjected to. What do they even do with all that information? I don't receive anything in the mail from them really except around Christmas time, so why the mailing address? If they are gathering this obscene amount of personal information for dark marketing purposes, I've not seen the expected result of mountains of circulars and emails yet. I hardly receive anything. What DO they do with this information? Is this a front for some Black Ops type branch of the military? The census bureau? Homeland security? I guess if you're a member of a terrorist cell, you have to get your batteries somewhere that the homemade bomb timers need. I guess...



Heck, if I at least received some coupons, discounts, prizes, frequent buyer miles, SOMETHING...I could partially accept this intrusion into my personal life. However I get nothing. Zip. Zilch. It's as if the information goes into some forgotten database in the middle of Siberia, with non-english speakers opening the complex every few months to clear the dust from the server fans and that's about it.



But I know better. At least I suspect that there are more devious mechanisms in play then even that.



I have a sneaking suspicion that when I get that call on my cell phone (they had my old number) asking me about student loan consolidation, that Radio Shack is somehow responsible. The call for carpet cleaning. Penguin Windows. Money for toothbrushes for toothless vets. The children's abuse society. Battered grandmothers. It's really Radio Shack. They are not in the business of selling batteries, they are in the business of selling lives. Information that in the wrong hands can help shape your remaining existence into a struggle for peace, quiet, and an unlisted phone number. Which makes old pimply face a liar right? Well, these poor saps just might not know. They swallow the corporate babble mission statments hook, line, and sinker.  They're just kids, trying to survive like many of us in a hard and shaky economy. They are not the Wizard behind the screen, they are simply flying monkeys, clueless of their contribution to the destruction of my life's privacy. I forgive them, I've always been an advocate for the front line soldiers after all. It is the generals that are usually corrupted.



And the stores themselves? They're not too shabby and far as man cave shopping goes, full of cheap electronic toys. Then you quickly realize that they all look the freaking same! You've got your slightly overpriced high end electronic goods from brand names you really don't trust all that much, cell phones, low end musical equipment, clips, wires, diodes, transistors, and of course, batteries. Kids fresh out of high school in white shirts and black ties swarming upon you before you have a chance to pull the list from your pocket. Weird, often out of the way locations that are always one big room with four walls, a counter, and some variation of small merchandise islands in the middle. You wouldn't know a Shack in Nebraska from one in New York, completely homogeneous. There is not another business model out there that resembles this warped strategy. How do these guys even make a profit? They are like cockroaches after the nuclear fallout, scrambling along oblivious to the plight of every other breathing being on earth, collecting their scraps. Never going away.



There is a dark purpose to Radio Shack, but I can only speculate as to what it is. Maybe I really don't want to know. They might have to kill me after all, or worse force me to wear that short sleeved white button up shirt with the cheap black tie. Sticking my nose forever more into other people's personal business simply so they can run home and bring junior the juice for his remote control car. A member of the Radio Shack SS, armed with only enough knowledge to steer you towards the wrong part that is so NEAR right that you fall for it, ensuring another visit to our hallowed dungeon of techno-crap within the day. And knowing my luck I'd probably pull the weekend shift to boot.



So the next time you walk into Radio Shack, I suggest that before the door even closes behind you, that you drop your pants and underwear and simply assume the position. It just makes the job easier and quicker for the pimply faced clueless goons, and why make the other poor saps in line behind you wait longer then necessary?

Thoughts On Middle Age and Mortality

When I was young, I didn't care about living past 40. I really didn't. Now I'm over 40, and hell yes I care. I know a lot of people that find themselves in a similar state of contemplation. A few of us lived fast and died young, but most of us just lived fast and now pay the daily consequences of that. A few of course are STILL living fast.

I never was an addictive personality, I dabbled in all sorts of stuff, smoked for many years, went through a pothead stage (yes, it was quite a long one), still drink although not to the point of incarceration usually (at least they haven't caught me yet!), just basically being an average, fun-loving person. Life is full of stress, you gotta have your good times, you have to learn how to let go. But besides the smoking I can't really say anything addicted me.

Well now it's time for an addiction, and it's hard. Harder then quitting anything I've had to so far. The addiction is health. I want to live to be old, really freaking old. However I don't want to live with daily unmanageable pain, or to live without being able to remember my children's names. So it's time to get addicted to health. Hardcore addicted, no looking back, no compromises. Live it, do it, love it. And that shit is tough man, especially for a lazy stooge like me.

It all started with a book I saw at Barnes and Noble a few months back (reading is another one of my positive addictions) called Younger Next Year. I'm not going to bore everyone with details, but there is a short list of rules to live by and if you follow them, chances are you'll live to be 90, and be quite vital and happy even at that age. One of these rules is workout every day (at least 6 days a week). Four days of cardio, at least two days of strength training. Not walking the dog, not hopping on the Wii Fit (although don't get me wrong, an awesome machine), not buying some new-fangled contraption from QTV for five easy payments of whatever, but going to the gym. The book says that if you don't do this, you'll fail, you'll get distracted, you'll compromise. Maybe not at first, but eventually you will. For myself at least, I believe that. Remember, I'm a lazy SOB after all.

So I've been sore and tired daily, going on almost three weeks of daily gym. Me and my wife Shirley get up at five am, get out by five twenty, get back by six thirty or so. We are very lucky to have a gym within a few blocks of us. Mostly cardio stuff (treadmill, bikes, eliptical) to just 'get into the habit'. I went and bought a heart monitor to keep the heart rate up where it should be, and not to take it easy or to shortcut what I'm trying to do. Last week I started working in strength training. Now I'm freaking sore. But happy sore, so far.

See, I'm not going to boast or pretend that there is a high probability that I'll do this for the rest of my life, which is exactly what needs to happen. I historically take on a project with great zest, enthusiastic as all get-out. Then shortly afterward my interest wanes and I compromise. A few months later, I'm on some other kick altogether. So that is why I'm writing this, putting it out there. So people will know, if I fail I cannot sweep it under the rug. I will have to admit my weakness. So I'm determined for what its worth to succeed.

It's not only activity, it's diet too. I've pretty much stopped eating crap. Now it's brown rice, not white. Lots of veggies and fruits. Whole grains, nothing processed if I can help it. Chicken and fish good.  Red meat bad except in heavy moderation.  The only things I drink are coffee, water, and booze.  Okay occasionally a glass of milk or fruit juice, but mainly water, coffee, and booze. Water especially I drink like there is no tomorrow. I try and limit myself to a couple of glasses of booze a day, which is actually by all credible studies damn good for you!  I've even started counting calories on a website (an AWESOME free website) called sparkpeople.com. I'm in this for the long haul, if I can stay strong.  Ask me anything you want, including if I'm going crazy.  Because I love red meat, I really do.  I love potatos and pasta too, but unless its whole wheat it's full of starch, and that is straight sugar once your body has its way with it.  Oh, and NO FAST FOOD!!  Not even a wrap or a salad.  Trying to eat healthy at a fast food joint is like trying to do your homework at a strip club.  Plain ridiculous in other words.



Again, I'm writing this for myself. So that if six months from now if someone asks me "hey, how is the exercise/diet thing going?" I will have to truthfully respond. And I am hoping beyond all hope that I answer "just fine!"  It motivates me to talk about this stuff, but no one really wants to hear it until they are ready to hear it, if ever.  It is also really hard to write this and not come off as a sanctimonious jerk.  But I'm sincere, whether you believe me or not.  After all, if you don't like it, don't read it.  Turn the page.  Go surf porn.

 I'm glad to turn any of my friends on to the resources I've found helpful. After all, I want you guys around for a really long time.

The Sunday Morning Fuzzies...

Why can't I sleep past 7:30am no matter how late I go to bed? Is this part of getting old? Or being inescapably hooked on my workweek schedule? I don't know but it's damn annoying at times...




Random thoughts:



When people cross into the bullshit zone, they start to speak loudly. Why is this? Is this born from some belief that "If I talk over you, cut you off, and bludgeon you with my words, it gains me credibility"? Bullshitters always seem to talk loudly. It isn't helping your case man, we still think you're full of it, only now you are hella obnoxious as well.

Dave's Killer Bread really IS all that. Tear jerk story of a meth addict gone good seed aside, this bread is the bomb! We keep a loaf or two in the freeze just to have it around. It isn't the easiest stuff to find, it's only at Freddie's, Winco, and Costco as far as I can tell, but their main bakery AND outlet store is on International Way in Milwaukie, well worth the extra trip my friends!! I know more then a couple of people that don't live in the area that wish it were more available. I predict their sales will explode in the next year or two.

Playing poker with 8 people and only one deck of cards REALLY doesn't work all that well, unless you stick to low card hands like Hold 'em, Omaha...not that those games don't rock, they are my faves.  Stay away from seven card no peek though, the math just doesn't work out.  Five card draw can be a disaster also.

Coffee tastes SOOOO good the morning after drinking.

The way cats dominate dogs simply boggles my mind. In most every house where dogs and cats live together harmoniously, it's almost always the cat that is in charge. At least the female cats. At worst they have a pass to tromp through the scene with their own agenda, unfazed by the doings of the lower animals. The laws of physics do not support this outcome, the dog is larger and capable of having the little hair shedding shit for snacktime, but instead they defer to the feline. Is this the true order of things in nature? Is it because the feline brain is more advanced then the canine brain? Is it because dogs pretty much exist to please us (domesticated ones at least)? I don't know the answers, but it's funny as hell to watch sometimes. :)

The Oregonian (how far and how fast the mighty fall!) will not identify crime suspects by race. This is annoying. If I'm on the lookout for some rapist/killer that just did the deed in my neighborhood, I'd like to know if eyewitnesses reported them as white, black, hispanic, asian, whatever. I'm a big boy and I can handle the information thank you very much. I mean how far can political correctness go? This paper is straight useless most of the time.

They put up the first 'Cesar Chavez' signs on SE 39th ave I hear, I refuse to comply. Not because of any disrespect to the man or his deeds, but to the way the city council (another rant on this at a later date) just shoved the change down everyone's throat without regard to the impact for business owners and residents. It is simple pandering to a special interest group that was loud and obnoxious. Pathetic, what happened to the will of the people?

I went to Hing's in downtown Oregon City Friday night to catch a band I wanted to see, I know a couple of the members. Random Pressure is their name, they play songs most bands would be scared to play, it was a good night of music. Major kudos to those guys!  Second Hand Buzz drummer/vocalist Charlie Swift stepped in for a set or three to help with vocals, he did a great job.  The place was packed for sure. One gripe though, when I pay a cover I don't want to wait 20 minutes for a drink or be surrounded by 1970's wood paneling and the smell of mothballs, I'm just saying!

That is all I got for now...

Blue Tools

You see them in the grocery store, just yakking away lost in conversation. At first it seems they are talking to themselves until you notice the little Borg contraption in their ear, fluttering and blinking in that shade of blue that can only mean "Damn, I'm getting pulled over AGAIN!" or "Brain Tumor Alert!...Brain Tumor Alert!" Then you realize with that rising revulsion that reminds you of that time you swallowed beer can ashtray swill (a separate rant entirely) that you've just crossed the path of a Bluetool in their native habitat. Native habitat being anywhere where a person sees them in public with their blinking ear, blinking with authority and purpose, the purpose of course being so we can secretly hate them and all that they stand for. What do they stand for you ask? Technological superiority, looking down their noses at you while their blinkity blink ridiculousness pitys you for being so 'behind the times'. They are puffer fish, all air (and a few scales I guess) and bluster. They are self-important. Full of themselves. They scoff at the primitive way you hold your Blackberry to your ear like a Geico caveman. They are the enemy.


How do we even know they are talking to someone at all? Sure, they puff out their chests and 'look' like they are in the middle of some important communication, perhaps closing a multi-million dollar real estate deal or arranging some country club booster party for whatever university they are alumi of. But really, I suspect they aren't talking to anyone at all. Maybe, just maybe, they are like the lonely guy at the party that opens his cell phone and pretends to text someone so they aren't the loser dork alone in the corner, or the person that signs up for mailing lists just so they get email of SOME sort, or even the person that dials 'time of day' just to hear someone's voice (if you are under 35, you won't get that reference, sorry.) They 'look' busy, they 'look' professional, and perception after all is everything these days isn't it? Perhaps they are simply avoiding conversation with normal people in the real world that make them nervous, so they pretend to be talking to somebody, anybody. It keeps them safe. It's simple fear of confrontation in some cases.

Now look, I understand the utility of such devices, I know there are legitimate users and uses of this technology. I myself have a Bluetooth headset that I leave in my car for legal reasons. Read "LEAVE IN MY CAR". I don't go all cyberpunk and strap myself with my 15 dollar Radio Shack hardware and cruise the street looking for geek chicks, dig? Ipods? Okay I get that, music players are cool. Having your tunes with you wherever you go is a great thing. But why the Bluetooth headset out and about? You can't hold your phone? You need both hands free? Do these people stay jacked into their cellular carrier during geek sex? I think they do. I'm sure it's usually a solo act too, if ya know what I'm saying.

Have you ever been in line in front of one of these self-absorbed wanna-be's? You hear someone talking, so you turn around and say "Pardon me?" just so they can say "Oh, sorry I'm on the phone" with that oh-so important look while they are gesticulating towards their earhole with their finger. I've been there and it is not pretty. Sometimes it's all you can do to not give the jerk a Bluetooth nose implant. I've danced that dance friends. Self-restraint is severely tested during such encounters believe me. It really does feel like you may be doing the world a service, but occasionally it is best to leave well enough alone. Let sleeping dogs lie.

Bluetools. They're in the stores, malls, the DMV, adult video stores (so I've heard), libraries, the gym, all freaking over the place. They think they are cool, and we should just leave them with that illusion. We need to take the high road. Be the better person. It is much safer that way after all. Pulling the earpiece off of one of these freaks and smashing it into heel butter would be the same as pulling the Soduku book out of a tweeker's hands or re-gifting that 10,000 piece Sistine Chapel jigsaw puzzle with the one missing piece. Some scary shit could end up happening.

Walking With Chewie 01-23-10

Another fine spring day in January (yes this get's the mind racing with Climate Change paranoia!) and the dog wants another walk, oblivious to his master's plans for the day.  Luckily for him, walkin the dog is always on the agenda... :)

As usual, he's raring to go, I can't even get him to stand still for a picture!

 


So on we walk.  Today we're going to quest to the lands of Taralon.  Not to rescue maiden fair nor slay mighty dragons, but to watch Chewie whizz on anything that will stand still for five seconds and snap some pictures.  It is straight criminal to not get out for pleasure on SOME level on a day like today after all.

First we have to go through Ashley Meadows park a block and a half to the East

Not a bad park, as far as city parks go.  And there is a dog poop bag dispenser at the entryway to the park, yes there is a method to my madness today on our route!  I'm out of doggy poopy bags.
 
So we traverse the soggy, muddy hillside to enter the gates of....TARALON!!!!
Of course the first damn thing you see is another park.  This one has a sign posted warning "non-Taroloners" that they are not welcome here, nay even TRESPASSING.  We're scared naturally, so we go the other way (plus you see one cheap public jungle gym, you've seen them all).
  
Now like many of the hills above us, the Taralon neighborhood is not finished, in fact I would say only 7-8% of the lots here have homes, so it's even more post-apocalyptic then most of the other neighborhoods around here.  
Here's a nice intersection, the corner of Nothing st. and Nada ave.  The section of orange 'barrier' that's trampled down has a path leading into those woods, some beer cans and condom wrappers litter the underbrush, ah youth.

 
As you can see the housing bubble bursting has spared some nice natural space.  Hopefully for a good, long while.  Snakes and gophers need someplace to party too you know!

And if you needed proof of their eventual intent out here, well here you go skeptics!

 



So we're walking towards the 'lake' at the corner of Taralon.  It's really not a lake, but a collection of water runoff from the hills below.  It has to go somewhere after all, but the ducks don't seem to know the difference.

Ducks just are not picky creatures after all.  Besides it sure beats most of the scenery around here that man-made crap has ruined. 

 It does not look quite as pristine however from a distance.




  
There are some interesting walks you can take out and about.  I work in Tualatin and they have a pretty decent art walk/nature walk trail system that I may blog about sometime.  Part of my "Urban Nature" series...keep an eye out for it!  :)  I just need a decent camera and I could just go slighty crazy with this stuff.  I'm glad no one really reads it.

On the far side of the 'lake' is a drain system access point (I made that term up by the way, I don't know what they really call it.)  Raised cages over the pipe system.

Kind of a trippy looking thing that just does not fit into the whole "Feng Shui" of the area if you ask me.

  


A shot down the hole gives you this view of the pipe ends, with an exposed section where you can see the water flowing somewhere.  How did I get such a good picture you are wondering?

 

Because as you can see, they don't LOCK THE DAMN THINGS!!  Those pipes are pretty wide too, wide enough for some small kid to get stuck in a pipe for sure.  I find this somewhat ridiculous.  Of course if I were a six year old kid, I'd think it was way cool, and probably get stuck in a pipe in the process.


We walk further along and there is a lone house in the trees to the South East.  A holdover from the ol' days of Happy Valley, probably refused to sell his land.  Bravo to these folks, the developers can just go take a flying leap!

 It's kind of hard to see, being a brown house and all, but I still think it's cool.  They have a long gravel road leading from basically nowhere to their gated driveway.  That must REALLY piss off the mailperson AND the garbage man.  Again good for them!!


So we turn back through the heart of Taralon, cavort with a pair of Chocolate labs (man, people LOVE to let dogs run loose out here, kind of cool!) and head towards home.

 Another shot of ye olde empty TARALON!

 More empty lots in the distance.

 
Now this is kind of cool, a circle of very large rocks that seemingly have no purpose.  Local legend however tells of the dark rites and sacrifices that have taken place within this ring of deadly magic.  Oh yeah, and the Tooth Fairy says hi.

 

Bridge over troubled waters? 

More empty lots.  You can tell they still kinda keep the landscaping up though.  Gotta keep the landscapers working!

Ah, the secret to the landscaping is revealed.  It turns out that this is actually Fluer De Lawn!!  That's French for "Plant it and fuggedaboutit".  It apparently cutting edge, eco-friendly ground cover that is pimped on this website: 

www.protimelawnseed.com/about-us/fleur-de-lawn/

What urban nature walk after all is complete without some environmentally progressive references?  Puhleeze...we are all about sustainability and being one with nature on this blog after all.  We've seen Avatar not once, but TWICE!!  So c'mon...

Until next time... :)

I Burn Out Streetlights With My Mind

I am not joking. I burn out streetlights with my mind. Too often I am walking or driving (it does not seem to matter which) down the road at dusk or in the dark of night, and a street lamp in front of me just suddenly goes dark. Just "poof", then it is out. Creepy stuff for sure. In the city, in the country, at the penitentiary, it just does not seem to matter. I have 'The Power'.

Now I write this knowing full well the risk of people thinking that "I'm a little out there", or "nutso" (as the Fonz would say) but it is true! True feats in life must be accomplished in spite of the naysayers, the non-believers, and the unenlightened. You cannot ridicule me with any real effect after all, I am married. I am used to it. Immune to it. Bring it on.

Speaking of marriage I have brought this up several times to my wife who, to her credit, does not simply run screaming in the other direction, drain our bank account, and then file for divorce. Her take on this is "well Allen, maybe the light was going to burn out anyway and it's just a coincidence". That is such a smarmy, wife type of thing to say by the way. However, I know that it is no mere coincidence. I have a mysterious connection that occasionally overtaxes the electrodes in high-pressure sodium bulbs. My apologies to any caretakers of grow houses I may have walked or driven by unintentionally, but hey, I did not know! There is no political motivation here. I have no control over this power, if I could figure this out and bottle it up the world would be my oyster, but alas, I cannot. I simply have 'The Power'. I am like Cyclops without the dark glasses, like an atom splitting outside of a reactor, dispersing generous amounts of destruction wherever I go.

I have tried to channel this power in other ways, and one day I just might get it. I feel like I have come pretty close at times. I've tried to mentally change traffic lights from red to green, stall the motors of jerks in traffic that cut me off, manipulate those stupid little ping pong balls during bingo night (Powerball won't work I don't think, I believe that proximity is a major factor), force the shirts up of ladies on the dance floor with a stare (this sometimes DOES work), flatten the tires of those who would swoop that parking space from me at the mall, all kinds of stuff. No real success, but just enough of a residual high from the 'attempt' to believe that it is there, I just have to keep trying. And I will, oh I will.

I have done my due diligence on this and researched the standard lifespan of a sodium bulb (high pressure, remember) to try to debunk this theory. The mean lifespan of a high-pressure sodium bulb is 24000 hours (thank you Google and the first link that I clicked on!) That is 1,000 days. 142.85 weeks. 2.75 years. So let us say that the average street has oh, 100 lamps on it. Let us say I pass roughly a quarter of them during my time on that street. Let us further say that I drive at night on an average of 37 streets. Let us also say that I've had at least three cups of coffee that day and need to use the restroom (since we are supposing, let us suppose, there could be a correlation!) So that would equal 3,700 lamps divided by 4 (25% remember), which comes out to 925 lamps a night I pass. Therefore, I have 925 opportunities to cause a bulb to burn out on a nightly basis. Let us further say that it takes 15 seconds between when I am in view of a street lamp in a moving vehicle until I have passed it. NOW we can do some math (and completely disregard the walking portion of this jumbled equation, along with rate of travel, light placement density, etc).

24000 hours / 15 seconds = 24000 x 240 (since 15 seconds x 4 = 1 minute and 60 minutes = 1 hour.) So that comes out to 5,760,000. Now also remember that I have 925 opportunities to do this so 5,760,000 / 925 = 6227. What that says is that this phenomenon should ONLY occur oh, every 17 years or so. Folks, that just ain't true. It happens to me at least on a weekly basis, and those are only the times that I NOTICE IT!

Therefore, the scientific mind can only concur that I have 'The Power'. At this point only a clueless fool could dispute it. My mental mojo is the electrical equivalent of the Bermuda Triangle. If anyone cares to debate this, well I am all ears. Just be careful not to get me too upset, or I just might get angry. Your streetlights would not like me when I am angry.

The Square Peg Fits

Try to fit me into other's design
A mess of complexity hard to define
Push the wrong buttons is all one can do
The square peg fits if you bully it through

Shape in the image of your perfect dream
Fill your holes, narcissistic scheme
Defined not by deed, symbiotic of course
The square peg fits if you use enough force

Laying your hands upon all interaction
Attempt to manipulate every reaction
Love on the surface, control underneath
The square peg fits if you've sharp enough teeth

A wild soul trapped within sweet velvet walls
Blind to life and deaf to it's calls
Stricken by longing and prey to fool's gold
The square peg fits but now everything's cold

Splinters remain that define what once thrived
The one that exists now purely contrived
If desire exists in spite of one's soul
Then the square peg fits despite the round hole

Walking with Chewie 01-16/17-10

This is a two-part walk, a Saturday and Sunday adventure. This was a busy weekend, and Saturday's walk wasn't very far, but we still got in a good 30 minutes or so...

Chewie really doesn't care where we go, as long as there are plenty of horizontal targets of his territorial whizzes (signposts, lampposts, trees and such.) Here he is raring to go:

He wanted to take his chewball with him that time, but no dice. He'd just drop it less then a minute into our stroll and I'd have to carry the damn thing the rest of the way. Sorry dog.

So we go by the elementary school by the homestead and the Friends of Trees are at it again beautifying the neighborhood (you may remember them from a previous walk.) This kind of stuff just warms the old heart, too many people don't give a crap about nature and our world, it's nice to see those that do hard at work:

No, I didn't go over and take pictures of them digging holes, the grass is WAY wet, besides we're on a tight time line here today.

So we walk by the 'circle' that's a few blocks from our house. This is a park behind the Albertson's strip mall that the local teenagers like to hang out in, skate, play basketball, sneak cigarettes when they 'think' we aren't noticing...my stepson was a regular here before moving to California, and my daughter Chelsea is starting to get to that age. I guess we all had this type of hangout, for me it was the 'wall' outside of school and we'd skip class, play hackysack, and do 'stuff'...

Not a great zoom on this camera unfortunately. One day I'm going to get a Canon EOS Rebel but I can't afford a pot to piss in currently, but here's a pic of one...

Pretty sweet eh? I think so. Anyway...

We continue the walk through our cookie cutter neighborhood (we're staying in the flat lands today, not enough time for the hills) and of course every once in a while you come across an interesting house:

I know, it's just a gate!! I know...but the house behind it was all right. Not breathtaking, and the neighborhood is cramped and rather vanilla, but to appreciate seeing this you have to see the view from the top of this same driveway, just pointing down the street...

So why is this so interesting? For me it's just out of place, and I get a small thrill at such things when I'm walking around. The kind of people that live there might make an interesting story after all, kind of the 'big fish in a little pond' syndrome. I'm sure their house would be a sugar shack in someplace like the hills above here, or Dunthorpe, or any nicer neighborhood.

What can I say? These kind of things tend to blow up my skirt so to speak. I'm a cheap date that way, my wife appreciates this very much I assure you.

So anyway we circle back around the row of townhouses, through the apartment complex and through the Albertson's strip mall back towards home. Strip malls for the most part are not an endearing aspect of American landscape, but I'm kind of fond of this one:

Besides it has a Godfather's as you can see. It's not TERRIBLE pizza, I can bring the kiddo, drink cheap beer, watch whatever game on the big screen, and the video poker den is just behind the faux saloon doors under the wide screen. Maybe I'll shoot a shot of that one day for y'all.

End of Saturday Walk.

SUNDAY, SUNDAY, SUNDAY!!!

We were going to go to the gym today, but I felt bad for cheating ol' Chewie on yesterday's walk so I thought we should go up into the hills to elevate the heart rate instead. Shirley (my lovely wife) decided to come along which was awesome!! It's hard shooting pictures and restraining 100 lbs of Labrador beast at the same time after all...Chewie is always down for a walk of course:

The first thing that happens is that we're accosted by two golden retrievers on the top of the first stairwell. They are running loose and wanted to check out Chewie. I could not get a pic of this since I was concerned about Shirley and Chewie becoming retriever Alpo five minutes into the damn walk! Turns out they just wanted to play, but they were pretty large dogs themselves so you have to be on guard. Their owner embarressed and apologetic, tried dragging them away on a few occasions with varying success. Hey if you're going to let your dogs run around, at least have them trained to come on command!! We assured her that we weren't the suing types, and eventually went on our way.

So we were in the hills, pushing the pace so I could test the usefulness of my new Sharper Image heart monitor. It's a contraption that older guys should wear when doing aerobic crap so that you know if you are pushing yourself hard enough to do any good or not. So we end up in a familiar cul-de-sac, the "Vacant McMansion" circle:

Nothing like seeing the foolish excess of home builder greed going to waste after all...

We go up another stairway behind the middle house to the next level of homes, and on our way we find what we can only figure is a Voodoo shrine of some sort.

Well, either that or someone's goat threw up on the walkway.

Then we walk by a very "Hitchcock scene"











This was like one house out of HUNDREDS, and the birds really only seemed interested in this one...creepy stuff.

We kept walking, Shirley taking her shift with trying to control the dog, kind of like bull riding combined with dog sledding.  I had to snap the obligatory picture of my two urban nature companions of course... :)

Naturally, they weren't aware of the fact that I was taking a picture.  Sneaky me.

We came across some interesting houses, some pretty, some interesting, a few just FUGLY...here's a rundown of the shots I took on this portion of the walk.

A Quasi-Victorian home, kinda pretty.

I like this one, it even has property and some sort of seclusion going for it, definitely in the top 10 we saw today.

And right next door was this ugly thing.  But I 'am' a sucker for a wrap around porch just about every time.  :)

Another huge monstrosity.  Not ugly, just not my style.  Shirley liked it though.

Okay, I don't really get this.  No yard, and the deck doesn't look that sturdy to me.  You can't see below the photo frame, but the backyard is basically a bark mulch swamp.  Yuk.

Watch that first step, it's a doosey!!






The saving grace through all of this however is both the killer views and the secluded, half finished aspect of much of this area. 

Here's one view.

And another, that's Clackamas High School in the background.

There must be 3-4 miles of loopy, paved roads to nowhere up here.  If you are into bike riding and not having to worry about some drunk kissing your rear tire while slaloming their '77 Caddy down the road, give me a shout and we'll go on a bike tour.  :)  Some of the hills are rather steep though, you'll have to be in some kind of shape to make it very far.


Anyways, we head back home and go to the Carver Hangar for some deep fried food that basically wipes out whatever physical benefit we got from our walk today while watching the Jets squeak a win out over the Chargers.  My kind of Sunday!