I walked back to my car, went to see another friend of mine not from my graduating class, and checked if he knew where the place was. He had no clue and I was exhausted so I ended up going home and passing out.
The next day I, with the kids and the amazing wifeykins, wandered around the old Alma matter and saw how much it had changed. I guess one of the guys from my graduating class is now the principal as well as a girl I graduated with is a teacher as well.
The school has changed in so many ways it really blew my mind. My daughter didn’t feel the same of course, and she was hungry on top of everything, so she was not enjoying the romp down her fathers’ memory lane. I was amazed at the little things. The music department still looks the same, but the concession stand they used to have is now a sprawling faculty rest stop. Which is sad because they sold the best cinnamon rolls I ever had. I would save up money and try to make it to school early so I could get a taste of them, and they were a going commodity of course. The small concession stand in the middle of the sports area was still there, though not open. It will never be eradicated as it’s the most centrally located place to sell to the football enthusiasts who crave nachos and hotdogs. The drama department still looked the same, through the windows, and the old math building that was one of the original buildings of the original school was still there. And they had not eliminated the mural that I remember when my sisters went to the same school years before I did. So as the daughter and the wifeykins were hungry and famished, we moseyed back over to the Quad and had lunch.
Lunch consisted of deliciously cooked steak and bread and salad and chips and drinks, and that evil eighties music that for some reason was rotating through the entire weekend. Now I like some of the music from the eighties, but the songs I remember were not included in the programming. But the son was digging the tunage like he always does.
As this was the next day after partying, many folks came later, lots not at all, and the mood was mellow and reserved. Well, more after drunken and hung over. Least for them. I was feeling fine and dandy.
So we ate, had a few people come up and accost the tye-dyed informer with recollections and fade away, and we made our way home and to the place were I now reside.
In the present day.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
20 Part 9
Strange ruminations and meanderings. And yet I never have missed a reunion. There are some people that have never been to a reunion and to them I say, how sad. You’re missing out on a serious trip, let alone a chance for bizarre reconciliation and remembrances. And yet there were still the strange cliques and groups forming and holding together. There was a slide show of pictures that basically was a walk down the memory lane of all the athletic jock types and people I never hung out with. I knew them all and still do, but it never was my thing. I was, and actually still do, strive to recognize the people that excel without a shred of recognition from any other source. For they do it for themselves, not for the kudos’ that come along with it. I’ll always believe in the underdogs of our society. They’re almost always more interesting and never dull when invited to parties.
We partied like crazy into the night and after they closed, or at least tried to close, the employees of the Madonna Inn started to herd us out the door. They didn’t have to use the whips and chains, but I’m sure they were close. And so we all said goodbye to those not hitting the bar-b-que for the families the next day and off we went. I was going to hang out in the room of my buddy as I was not completely sobered up yet, but he said the party was going at room 111. We got there and besides the people that rented the room, there was me and my buddy. We hung for a bit, and I was ready to boogey when another group of people showed up and said they were going to dance the night away at a place called the native. I had no clue where that was so I didn’t crawl in the car, unlike the buddy who did.
We partied like crazy into the night and after they closed, or at least tried to close, the employees of the Madonna Inn started to herd us out the door. They didn’t have to use the whips and chains, but I’m sure they were close. And so we all said goodbye to those not hitting the bar-b-que for the families the next day and off we went. I was going to hang out in the room of my buddy as I was not completely sobered up yet, but he said the party was going at room 111. We got there and besides the people that rented the room, there was me and my buddy. We hung for a bit, and I was ready to boogey when another group of people showed up and said they were going to dance the night away at a place called the native. I had no clue where that was so I didn’t crawl in the car, unlike the buddy who did.
20 Part 8
One friend of mine and I were walking home when my dad met us at school. He, my father, had taken the day off to come and meet us at grade school. He was in the Volkswagen bus we had and he had hot chocolate, or chocolate milk, and cookies or donuts. He picked us up and drove us home just because. My friend didn’t remember it at all.
One friend of mine and I were at his house and I came up with the great idea to mix water and flour to make makeup. I was trying to go for an undead thing I guess, and that friend remembered that and the fact that his mom got pissed at him for that. That friend remembered and the look on his face said that his mom was pissed for quite some time afterwards, which makes me crazy because she should have called my parents and got me in trouble, but she didn’t.
Another friend, in grade school, had pushed me. Now that seems like quite the innocuous thing, yet I was in a cast from my upper thighs to my ankles because of leg perthes. It’s a disease that causes the ball bone in your hip to disintegrate and grow back. It’s a painful process and for years the medical community at large would do a full hip replacement in children ages seven and above. Now I had it in the days when the hip replacement thing was seriously going out of style, yet it was still around and there was a chance that hip replacement would occur. But I digress, like always I might add. We had been in an argument over some reason and he had said that I was nothing but a cripple and always would be. After that little speech he had pushed me so I had tumbled, as they say, ass over teakettle and I had hit the concrete. I was in karate at the time and had been in pretty good shape, so I jumped up, as far as stiff spread legged jumping went, and I began to slam him against the window of the local grade school. A teacher had come around the corner and had stopped what went down and afterwards I had no trouble with him at all. Later on at the shindig he stated that in his life I was his hero. Since I dealt with everything and made it through my disease with little or no problems it seemed that his problems with his abusive dad and life was lessened and bearable.
At the ten year I was approached by a guy that I used to hang out with in band. He sheepishly told me he was sorry he had “trash canned” me in high school. Now it took me at least an hour to remember the situation, and it went something like this. He and a few friends surrounded me, but since I was reading a book I didn’t notice them until they didn’t get out of my way. I looked up and was irritated that I was interrupted in my reading. So I looked at them, they were slightly tensed and ready to grab at me, so I looked to my left and saw a trashcan. I went, got in it, and asked if they needed anything else. They looked disappointed, said I was no fun, and left. I got out, opened my book again, and continued to class. He needed a response and I laughed and said it was no big deal and if he needed to hear it, his apology was accepted.
Another friend I remembered a costume party at his parents house involving the Lois BBS people from the old days. It was crashed by a group of hardened Mexican males that wanted either to party or to fight someone. I left that time to the sounds of my buddy saying the cops were coming. He remembered me at the Blue Oyster Cult concert that was at what is now the KSBY TV station here in town.
One friend of mine and I were at his house and I came up with the great idea to mix water and flour to make makeup. I was trying to go for an undead thing I guess, and that friend remembered that and the fact that his mom got pissed at him for that. That friend remembered and the look on his face said that his mom was pissed for quite some time afterwards, which makes me crazy because she should have called my parents and got me in trouble, but she didn’t.
Another friend, in grade school, had pushed me. Now that seems like quite the innocuous thing, yet I was in a cast from my upper thighs to my ankles because of leg perthes. It’s a disease that causes the ball bone in your hip to disintegrate and grow back. It’s a painful process and for years the medical community at large would do a full hip replacement in children ages seven and above. Now I had it in the days when the hip replacement thing was seriously going out of style, yet it was still around and there was a chance that hip replacement would occur. But I digress, like always I might add. We had been in an argument over some reason and he had said that I was nothing but a cripple and always would be. After that little speech he had pushed me so I had tumbled, as they say, ass over teakettle and I had hit the concrete. I was in karate at the time and had been in pretty good shape, so I jumped up, as far as stiff spread legged jumping went, and I began to slam him against the window of the local grade school. A teacher had come around the corner and had stopped what went down and afterwards I had no trouble with him at all. Later on at the shindig he stated that in his life I was his hero. Since I dealt with everything and made it through my disease with little or no problems it seemed that his problems with his abusive dad and life was lessened and bearable.
At the ten year I was approached by a guy that I used to hang out with in band. He sheepishly told me he was sorry he had “trash canned” me in high school. Now it took me at least an hour to remember the situation, and it went something like this. He and a few friends surrounded me, but since I was reading a book I didn’t notice them until they didn’t get out of my way. I looked up and was irritated that I was interrupted in my reading. So I looked at them, they were slightly tensed and ready to grab at me, so I looked to my left and saw a trashcan. I went, got in it, and asked if they needed anything else. They looked disappointed, said I was no fun, and left. I got out, opened my book again, and continued to class. He needed a response and I laughed and said it was no big deal and if he needed to hear it, his apology was accepted.
Another friend I remembered a costume party at his parents house involving the Lois BBS people from the old days. It was crashed by a group of hardened Mexican males that wanted either to party or to fight someone. I left that time to the sounds of my buddy saying the cops were coming. He remembered me at the Blue Oyster Cult concert that was at what is now the KSBY TV station here in town.
20 Part 7
And then we have the weird responses to your tye-dyed informers’ shpeel about the site, where you all come to get your fixes of course. Here’s a few of the more tasty ones:
“Ya,he always pushed the envelope.”
“Like a shock jock.”
“Were you always rebellious?”
It was weird, as an adult that has forgotten more then he’ll ever remember about his high school days, some people had amazing recollection of a time that most would prefer to forget. Not yours truly of course, though I would be lying if I said I loved it all. School for me was a confusing and turbulent time, but not as far as I recall a rebellious time. I was the kid that had hit his head so many times on poles and other inanimate objects so many times because I was always looking at the ground. Found a lot of cool stuff on the ground in a lot of different places, but at some point I needed to learn to look up. And I did, of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to spell check my shtuff! But back to the cosmic bizarreness.
So as the booze began to flow more liberally, and flow it did, everyone began to loosen up. I kept having flash backs to childhood involving people that I saw. I’m not sure if anyone else was walking, or more to the point jogging, down memory road quite like I was but it was fun to watch and also to participate. It was funny, it seemed like every memory I had, especially about the friends I spent the most time with, was times we had before high school. Some of those are….
“Ya,he always pushed the envelope.”
“Like a shock jock.”
“Were you always rebellious?”
It was weird, as an adult that has forgotten more then he’ll ever remember about his high school days, some people had amazing recollection of a time that most would prefer to forget. Not yours truly of course, though I would be lying if I said I loved it all. School for me was a confusing and turbulent time, but not as far as I recall a rebellious time. I was the kid that had hit his head so many times on poles and other inanimate objects so many times because I was always looking at the ground. Found a lot of cool stuff on the ground in a lot of different places, but at some point I needed to learn to look up. And I did, of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to spell check my shtuff! But back to the cosmic bizarreness.
So as the booze began to flow more liberally, and flow it did, everyone began to loosen up. I kept having flash backs to childhood involving people that I saw. I’m not sure if anyone else was walking, or more to the point jogging, down memory road quite like I was but it was fun to watch and also to participate. It was funny, it seemed like every memory I had, especially about the friends I spent the most time with, was times we had before high school. Some of those are….
20 Part 6
I walked in and got my name badge on, then went out back for a smoke. As I hung out the same buddy from last night with his man came and they hung out and had a smoke with me. As we were hanging out and polluting our lungs together, a guy I hadn’t seen in an age came around the corner. I grabbed him and gave him a hug and asked what he was doing since the high school released us to our own recognizance. He had been living in Seattle running a dog hotel thingy, and had been there for about five years. I guess he had had a few issues in the area and had escaped up north to get away from it all. Since he had the room closest to the party he was elected to be the host room guy for frop inhalation. We hung out under a really interestingly formed juniper that had been teased into a tree shape. But as we were both dry the call of alcohol was too strong of a sirens lure to resist. So we went into the room that would be our resting and partying place for the next few hours.
I came, after an indeterminate amount of time, to the conclusion that I was on that freaky ore cart ride in that Indiana Jones movie. You know the one. They’re cruising under the earth and they go up on two wheels, they careen around corners, they jump from one to the other end of a broken and dilapidated track, they fight strange Indian guys that want to screw with Indie’s head. That pell-mell ride from hell. That’s what it felt like to me. I saw people I hadn’t seen in yeeeeaaaaarrrrrrssssss. Some hadn’t even made it to any of the other reunions we had, where the corn cob vibe was not so intense and the kids were alright. This time people had lost parents, children, themselves, and we had grown up. Well, at least they had all thought they were grown up; I was under no such compulsions to perjure myself with foolishness.
I came, after an indeterminate amount of time, to the conclusion that I was on that freaky ore cart ride in that Indiana Jones movie. You know the one. They’re cruising under the earth and they go up on two wheels, they careen around corners, they jump from one to the other end of a broken and dilapidated track, they fight strange Indian guys that want to screw with Indie’s head. That pell-mell ride from hell. That’s what it felt like to me. I saw people I hadn’t seen in yeeeeaaaaarrrrrrssssss. Some hadn’t even made it to any of the other reunions we had, where the corn cob vibe was not so intense and the kids were alright. This time people had lost parents, children, themselves, and we had grown up. Well, at least they had all thought they were grown up; I was under no such compulsions to perjure myself with foolishness.
20 Part 5
The actual reunion dinner was at a place called the Madonna Inn, a strange castle like place on the edge of San Luis Obispo. Now for those of you who have either heard of this place a little or for those of you who had never been there before, it’s a strange place. And by strange I mean bizarre. The coloration is at best a bright pink, at worse a dull pink. It’s main outside areas are fashioned from the rocks from the hill behind it, which goes by the original name of “Madonna Mountain”. Catchy name huh? Inside you are bombarded by the color pink, as it was Mrs. Madonna’s favorite color and her hubby had always loved her exquisitely. They have fairly expensive but not too shabby food, and their real claim to fame is their German chocolate cake. It literally has huge chunks of chocolate shaved and placed on the top along with the rich chocolate cake and the rich chocolate filling. All in all a decadents wet dream. But then there’s the rooms.
Now each of the rooms are theme based. Some are slightly mundane like a car room, little cars on the wallpaper and car like seats and such. One was called “time of your life” which involved purple carpet along with purple walls and semi-cheap masks hung on the walls. But then you get other crazy rooms. Like the caveman room, where you have a shower that’s a waterfall onto your head, along with an actual cave that’s been fashioned into a plush room with chunks of rock coming out of the walls, all from the mountain of course. All in all and interesting, but slightly bizarre place. And it was invaded by the class of 88.
Now each of the rooms are theme based. Some are slightly mundane like a car room, little cars on the wallpaper and car like seats and such. One was called “time of your life” which involved purple carpet along with purple walls and semi-cheap masks hung on the walls. But then you get other crazy rooms. Like the caveman room, where you have a shower that’s a waterfall onto your head, along with an actual cave that’s been fashioned into a plush room with chunks of rock coming out of the walls, all from the mountain of course. All in all and interesting, but slightly bizarre place. And it was invaded by the class of 88.
20 Part 4
We alternated between “R&D’s” and “Bill’s place” for the rest of the evening. I kept seeing folks I haven’t seen in years, but none from high school really, until I saw a buddy I had been in drama class with way back when. He was married now to, of all people, a guy from San Luis High School that actually graduated the year we did as well. They were living in San Francisco and were doing quite well for each other. I was overjoyed as my friend was a great guy and deserved a decent man. Plus as his significant other was a frop hound as well, he was alright with me.
I saw people here and there that I recognized, I had been in grade school with some of them, but they were still stuck in their areas of comfort and were unable to break out.
So I hung out and watched as everyone got more and more inebriated, and then I went home till the next day.
The next day I woke up and started cleaning sticks and seeds from my interplanetary frop and watching movies with the kids. My wifeykins was working the studying angle so she was just a little stressed, but handling it ok. I spent the day cleaning frop and getting my kid fix before I hosed off, shaved a bit, and put on a clean tye-dye. I was thinking I would put on the dress jacket I had, but as I didn’t have the strength to stretch it across my bulk, I just went with the tye-dye. But I did bite the bullet and wear pants. And a different earring.
I saw people here and there that I recognized, I had been in grade school with some of them, but they were still stuck in their areas of comfort and were unable to break out.
So I hung out and watched as everyone got more and more inebriated, and then I went home till the next day.
The next day I woke up and started cleaning sticks and seeds from my interplanetary frop and watching movies with the kids. My wifeykins was working the studying angle so she was just a little stressed, but handling it ok. I spent the day cleaning frop and getting my kid fix before I hosed off, shaved a bit, and put on a clean tye-dye. I was thinking I would put on the dress jacket I had, but as I didn’t have the strength to stretch it across my bulk, I just went with the tye-dye. But I did bite the bullet and wear pants. And a different earring.
20 Part 3
Now this place, for those of you not in the know, is cool in a hick sort of way. It’s a definite hole in the wall joint with karaoke and a strange white lion stuffed in the window. I had only been in the place once before, long ago I might add, and so it was an interesting experience. Which then became irritating as the constant country songs and large hats invaded my personal auditory space. I made a run through the front to the back patio, and was calling the wifekins to actually tell her I wasn’t going to be there long when a buddy I haven’t seen in about 15 years came around the corner.
Now this guy was a friend from the days when your tye-dyed informer was a thinner more in shape kind of guy. We, along with another guy specifically and others that would come and go through the years, would go on “death marches” as we’d call them. We would find an area where there was enough space to cruise around, and we’d walk for hours and hours and hours. Usually with lots of interplanetary frop and severe booze mixtures with the names of “orange death” and “moon mist”. Tasty concoctions that would curl the toes of an Irishman on a binge, and would of course insure the Roman viewpoint of purging. Unbeknownst to me, his brother was in my class in high school so he was there with him crashing the party. So I talked to the wifekins, she vented as she’s got her CSET test coming up and she is infused with the power of her stresses, and then went and chatted with the buddy.
He had been rolling boulders up at his moms’ house in northern California and building a small 6 foot by 9 foot log “cabin” of sorts next to her house. He said he had retired, from what I’m not too sure of, and had been traveling around the states and groovin’. We sidled up to the bar and he ordered a beer for each hand. As I was unsure the length of time I would stay I wasn’t drinking anything.
We ended up strollin to the park behind the bar and smoking a bowl or two of frop, which seemed to be my role in the proceedings to come for the rest of the weekend. Interesting side note, he ended up buying the red dominant flower pattern shirt. For some reason I knew that someone I knew would be the one to buy that shirt, though I had no idea it would be him.
Now this guy was a friend from the days when your tye-dyed informer was a thinner more in shape kind of guy. We, along with another guy specifically and others that would come and go through the years, would go on “death marches” as we’d call them. We would find an area where there was enough space to cruise around, and we’d walk for hours and hours and hours. Usually with lots of interplanetary frop and severe booze mixtures with the names of “orange death” and “moon mist”. Tasty concoctions that would curl the toes of an Irishman on a binge, and would of course insure the Roman viewpoint of purging. Unbeknownst to me, his brother was in my class in high school so he was there with him crashing the party. So I talked to the wifekins, she vented as she’s got her CSET test coming up and she is infused with the power of her stresses, and then went and chatted with the buddy.
He had been rolling boulders up at his moms’ house in northern California and building a small 6 foot by 9 foot log “cabin” of sorts next to her house. He said he had retired, from what I’m not too sure of, and had been traveling around the states and groovin’. We sidled up to the bar and he ordered a beer for each hand. As I was unsure the length of time I would stay I wasn’t drinking anything.
We ended up strollin to the park behind the bar and smoking a bowl or two of frop, which seemed to be my role in the proceedings to come for the rest of the weekend. Interesting side note, he ended up buying the red dominant flower pattern shirt. For some reason I knew that someone I knew would be the one to buy that shirt, though I had no idea it would be him.
20 Part 2
The first thing I noticed were the paint brushes and mixing tools for paint outside her door. Yet when I walked in I was bombarded, I could almost say violated, by the art stacked against the walls. Panel after panel after panel stacked against the walls, strewn throughout the kitchen. Everywhere. As the sheer volume of work begins to sink in and not be such a focal point for me, I start getting the influx of what it is, how it feels, where it takes me. At one point, after heading outside for a respite from her power, I actually became a little nauseous. She’s a darkish girl, sweet but talented and that talent like so many others seems to drive her and control her as well. It’s femme with a bite. She gives you beauty, yet within that beauty is a harshness, a cutting way, a fury almost.
So after I was able, by shielding my eyes so I could stay focused on what I wanted to tell her, to ask her why she wasn’t rich yet, and in a gallery, and cranking out the art, she laughed and like most artists she doesn’t have the stamina or inclination to deal with that part of the world. Which is a pity because she needs to be out there, more to the point her art needs to be out there.
I checked my watch, realized that the pre-party party had started about 45 minutes ago, and bade goodbye to all things artsy, and cruised over to the bar.
So after I was able, by shielding my eyes so I could stay focused on what I wanted to tell her, to ask her why she wasn’t rich yet, and in a gallery, and cranking out the art, she laughed and like most artists she doesn’t have the stamina or inclination to deal with that part of the world. Which is a pity because she needs to be out there, more to the point her art needs to be out there.
I checked my watch, realized that the pre-party party had started about 45 minutes ago, and bade goodbye to all things artsy, and cruised over to the bar.
20 Part 1
The march of time never stops, even for Ponce De Leon, and of course not for even your tye-dyed informer of the world and parts unknown. And it is especially true of all those of the class of 1988, that special and vibrant year of release and joy in the undertaking of our lives as we saw them then.
But this really starts with a girl, and her art.
It was the year that marked the twentieth from the graduation of all of us from Arroyo Grande High School. People were coming in from all over the states and since I was so close, and really because I haven’t missed one yet, I was all in for fun and craziness. The shindig was planned for a place called Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo, and as it had been years since I had gone there as well it was shaping up to be an all around interesting experience. 75 bucks later I was signed up so it was all about the anticipation of things to come and whatever else I had planned before the festivities were upon me.
I had hit Motorhead of course (see post, it was gnarly) and was ready for the reunion. I got the e-mail that stated we were meeting at Bill’s Place, a smallish irishish bar in the village of old arroyo, so I made my way from the tye-dyed compound out to the joint. But first I stopped by a buddies house and hung out with him for a tiny. He needed a ride and as I had yet to see this friend’s art, she was someone I had met through him and I was hearing a lot about her talent, I gave him a ride and checked her art out.
Now I don’t know about you, but when I walk into a museum, or an art gallery, any place where the work from another persons mind and heart is displayed I find it interesting, and it sometimes gets across to me, but I’m not one for most art. The saying that seems to work best for me is “I’m not sure if its art, but I like it.” And that’s what I’ve felt for many a long year. Until now.
But this really starts with a girl, and her art.
It was the year that marked the twentieth from the graduation of all of us from Arroyo Grande High School. People were coming in from all over the states and since I was so close, and really because I haven’t missed one yet, I was all in for fun and craziness. The shindig was planned for a place called Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo, and as it had been years since I had gone there as well it was shaping up to be an all around interesting experience. 75 bucks later I was signed up so it was all about the anticipation of things to come and whatever else I had planned before the festivities were upon me.
I had hit Motorhead of course (see post, it was gnarly) and was ready for the reunion. I got the e-mail that stated we were meeting at Bill’s Place, a smallish irishish bar in the village of old arroyo, so I made my way from the tye-dyed compound out to the joint. But first I stopped by a buddies house and hung out with him for a tiny. He needed a ride and as I had yet to see this friend’s art, she was someone I had met through him and I was hearing a lot about her talent, I gave him a ride and checked her art out.
Now I don’t know about you, but when I walk into a museum, or an art gallery, any place where the work from another persons mind and heart is displayed I find it interesting, and it sometimes gets across to me, but I’m not one for most art. The saying that seems to work best for me is “I’m not sure if its art, but I like it.” And that’s what I’ve felt for many a long year. Until now.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Motorgoofy Part 8
O.K. Now something needs to be done about the freeway systems in L.A. As I headed out to try to make it home it became much more involved then I thought it would be. First off, the five freeway was closed of all things, so I had to go to the 91 then over to the 405 north, then over to the 101, where I could follow it to home and my family. That ride, like others I’ve had I might add, was long drawn out and painful. At Gaviota pass I met a guy that partied for “days” as he put it in Goleta and decided to take the bicycle he had purchased for ten dollars and take off. He had made it about 15 to 20 miles and had been hanging out at the rest stop at the pass for the night. I broke out a cigarillo and he did the trying to filch thing, but I gave him the “dude it cost ten bucks fer like ten of these puppies” and he babbled for awhile, which was good for it allowed me to stay awake and wake up a tad, and then I passed down the endy and got back to travelin.
And there it is. All the fun and pertinent stuff. I got back to the domicile of the tye-dyed informer around 5 in the A.M. and was so freakin tired I didn’t even fill the hole in my gut. My head hit the pillow and I was unconscious till the boy awoke me with laughing and joy four hours later. And my day began, and the trip was over.
And there it is. All the fun and pertinent stuff. I got back to the domicile of the tye-dyed informer around 5 in the A.M. and was so freakin tired I didn’t even fill the hole in my gut. My head hit the pillow and I was unconscious till the boy awoke me with laughing and joy four hours later. And my day began, and the trip was over.
Motorgoofy Part 7
Now the House of Blues is a cool place and all, but I kept hearing throughout the night that there were certain bands that they wouldn’t allow to play there. Interesting if not censoring, but hey they own it and Mickey is a stern taskmaster I’m sure. Now the other issue I have with the venue was that they only had one exit to the outside, which is fine until you have about four hundred people trying like hell to get out. Then you have what we had that night, fights, stampede mentality, all the fun and frolic of a badly engineered exit for a rock concert. Everyone was packed tight, or so I thought, till a guy to my right started throwing blows, and then the crowd opened up quite nicely and he was tackled by a few of the guys in yellow. It took about four minutes, which when your stuck to the people all around you seems like an eternity, and then we were outside. Where I saw the fightin dude heading back for more with his weepy slightly overweight mascara running blonde following in tow. I blurted out “Man! How the hell did he get outside before us man???” and from the guy on my right I hear “He had an escort.” Which started me laughing and nodding my head in agreement.
As I walked to the car I made an acquaintance and he asked about whether I partook of the frop or not. My guess was the tye-dye I was wearing and I was right. So I acquiesced and gave him a ride home as the security was a bit too diligent and around. I drove left, right, right, left, then maybe a right or a left or two afterwards and we were at his house. We chatted and smoked a bit as he had kicked down a nug of his own interplanetary frop and he offered a beer but since I was driving it was a no thank you from me. He asked about the shirt and I told him I was in the biz of making them and broke out my gear. He dug one of the bags I make as he said “Man…it’s like someone bled all over it man…” I had to agree with him because the red was quite bloodalicious and dominant. He bought it (thank ya duder!) and I boogeyed on down the road with a smile on my face.
As I walked to the car I made an acquaintance and he asked about whether I partook of the frop or not. My guess was the tye-dye I was wearing and I was right. So I acquiesced and gave him a ride home as the security was a bit too diligent and around. I drove left, right, right, left, then maybe a right or a left or two afterwards and we were at his house. We chatted and smoked a bit as he had kicked down a nug of his own interplanetary frop and he offered a beer but since I was driving it was a no thank you from me. He asked about the shirt and I told him I was in the biz of making them and broke out my gear. He dug one of the bags I make as he said “Man…it’s like someone bled all over it man…” I had to agree with him because the red was quite bloodalicious and dominant. He bought it (thank ya duder!) and I boogeyed on down the road with a smile on my face.
Motorgoofy Part 6
The one thing I will give to the House of Blues was that they have very efficient bands playing at their establishment. The tear down was done with military like precision and beauty.
So I waited. And then I waited. And then, for a change, I waited a bit more. And then, the cheering started and the lights went on to the stage and out came the band I, along with most of the others there, had come to see. Motorhead.
They all came out smoking a fresh cigarette and threw them down on the stage. Lemmy said something to the effect of “We’re Motorhead. We play rock and roll!” and then they started to. Some of the songs were killed by death, overkill, dr. rock, goin to brazil, and an acoustic version of something called the roadhouse blues which was not what I would expect from Motorhead, but I was impressed none the less.
One contention. For some reason they were going fine until about the third or fourth song, when all of a sudden the sound began the feedback thing that concert goers hate so much. As well as the band actually. It seemed it was a problem with the roadies from Motorhead, because the guy at the sound board back where I was didn’t seem to be the guy with the problem. But all in all it was an awesome experience and as the heat increased and the band continued it got better and better. They left and came back for the encore of ace of spades and the place went nuts. Towards the end of the show a guy from behind me started to chat and whoop and yell and generally have a good time. He invited me to go party with him and the band after the show, which for some reason when I have a four or more hour drive I always get invited to hang with the bands, but I declined as I had the drive and my son would be awake earlier then I wanted. He smiled and said cool, and I began to try, as the show was over, to make my way out of the place and back into the open air.
So I waited. And then I waited. And then, for a change, I waited a bit more. And then, the cheering started and the lights went on to the stage and out came the band I, along with most of the others there, had come to see. Motorhead.
They all came out smoking a fresh cigarette and threw them down on the stage. Lemmy said something to the effect of “We’re Motorhead. We play rock and roll!” and then they started to. Some of the songs were killed by death, overkill, dr. rock, goin to brazil, and an acoustic version of something called the roadhouse blues which was not what I would expect from Motorhead, but I was impressed none the less.
One contention. For some reason they were going fine until about the third or fourth song, when all of a sudden the sound began the feedback thing that concert goers hate so much. As well as the band actually. It seemed it was a problem with the roadies from Motorhead, because the guy at the sound board back where I was didn’t seem to be the guy with the problem. But all in all it was an awesome experience and as the heat increased and the band continued it got better and better. They left and came back for the encore of ace of spades and the place went nuts. Towards the end of the show a guy from behind me started to chat and whoop and yell and generally have a good time. He invited me to go party with him and the band after the show, which for some reason when I have a four or more hour drive I always get invited to hang with the bands, but I declined as I had the drive and my son would be awake earlier then I wanted. He smiled and said cool, and I began to try, as the show was over, to make my way out of the place and back into the open air.
Motorgoofy Part 5
Can’t remember what their name was (sorry guys) but they jammed pretty well. The bassist had the spit leg spread and didn’t move from that position, the lead guitarist strutted around the stage and generally got down and funky with it. I caught most of their set and made my way back out to the balcony for the cigarillo time I was having. The first band finished their set and made their way off the stage and there was down time till the next group made their way out. As I was still around the bar area I decided to get water from the helpful bartender and sat and replenished my fortifications until the next round came. And then it came with a vengeance.
The next band I do remember the name of, for no other reason then they were memorable. Something to the effect of Salient Thor. At least I think that’s what they were. Now I’m not necessarily the ancient wise one here, but I remember when you couldn’t get a band to shut up about their names and who they were and where they came from. What they wanted on their toast in the afternoon. But these guys came and jammed and went without, at least to my knowledge, referring to themselves. But these guys were nutty and tasty with a side of goodness.
They hit the stage with a turn of the century philosophy look to themselves, and began to get as political as I have heard in quite an age. I remember one specific thing they said.
“We wanna dedicate this song to Jesse Helms. It’s called ‘I hope the maggots enjoy eating your rotting corpse’”
After that I was digging them hard and lots.
The only issue I had was the lead singer would start talking about something, without the benefit of us really being along with him, and he would end it with “YA KNOW WHAT I MEAN??!!??” Which in all reality, I don’t think we all knew what he meant.
So they thrashed and thrashed, thrashed a little more, and then it was time for the main attraction.
I hung out in the back of the class and stretched my legs a bit. The heat was increasing as the last band had caused a great swirling and melee at the center of the floor, but there were still those that had remained, if not exactly still, the occasional head bob was all they gave. I was boppin along with the band and laughing at moments, but I was ready and prepared for Motorhead.
The next band I do remember the name of, for no other reason then they were memorable. Something to the effect of Salient Thor. At least I think that’s what they were. Now I’m not necessarily the ancient wise one here, but I remember when you couldn’t get a band to shut up about their names and who they were and where they came from. What they wanted on their toast in the afternoon. But these guys came and jammed and went without, at least to my knowledge, referring to themselves. But these guys were nutty and tasty with a side of goodness.
They hit the stage with a turn of the century philosophy look to themselves, and began to get as political as I have heard in quite an age. I remember one specific thing they said.
“We wanna dedicate this song to Jesse Helms. It’s called ‘I hope the maggots enjoy eating your rotting corpse’”
After that I was digging them hard and lots.
The only issue I had was the lead singer would start talking about something, without the benefit of us really being along with him, and he would end it with “YA KNOW WHAT I MEAN??!!??” Which in all reality, I don’t think we all knew what he meant.
So they thrashed and thrashed, thrashed a little more, and then it was time for the main attraction.
I hung out in the back of the class and stretched my legs a bit. The heat was increasing as the last band had caused a great swirling and melee at the center of the floor, but there were still those that had remained, if not exactly still, the occasional head bob was all they gave. I was boppin along with the band and laughing at moments, but I was ready and prepared for Motorhead.
Motorgoofy Part 4
It was an interesting hodge podge of bric-a-brac and weird surrealistic paintings and other stuff. Strange cryptic writings on the walls, odd tile designs threading through the place, up the walls and over the ceiling. I remember stopping in front of a picture that said “Ain’t I a woman” and realized that it was a painting of Sojourner Truth, or at least I thought it was a painting of Sojourner Truth. It seemed to be Sojourner Truth through the auspices of acid or some other hallucinogenic because the background in her painting was frozen in mid movement. Above the stage was the sign for “Ohm” the universal sign and the universal sound, along with a Buddha, a peace sign, and other feel good groovynesses. I wandered through the top and the bottom floors a few times to get the feel of it all. I actually, due to the lack of people in the beginning of it, could have been towards the front of the class, but I picked and opted for the back of the bus action. As I wandered I chugged the rest of the rum and coke, but it hit too hard and I got a little woozy. I sat for a bit, had another cigarillo, and realized it would be a short night and a long drive back if I didn’t get something in my stomach, and the best concert food there is is French fries. So I sidled up to the bar and asked if there was some way I could cross over the forbidden zone to the other side of the place where the food was being served. The bartender told me food was available at the bar and I was all over it. They had bacon wrapped hotdogs, hot wings, hot stuff in general but they had the fries and that’s what I ended up getting. Took em about five minutes to get em to me, pipin’ hot and fresh, and it was down the hatch with them till they were gone. Basking in the French fry afterglow I chuffed down another cigarillo and about the time I was feeling the head rush, bout five seconds later, I snubbed out the end and made my way in as the first band was startin to jam.
Motorgoofy Part 3
I got to the downtown Disney parking area and got a little shock over the prices to come park to shop of all things, but as I was not willing to go anywhere else I slid into a space in the back. I knew I had come to the right spot when I saw the kids wearing the Viking helmet and the Motorhead T-shirts. I cracked an energy drink and began to mosey my way over to the venue. About three quarters of the way there I realized I had no business cards on me and headed back to the car to retrieve them. I got em, passed a few out to the Viking youth, and headed back to the venue.
Now this was the first time I had not only gone to a concert by myself, but also the first time in the House of Blues. Now we, the fam and I, had walked by this place a dozen or more times over the years, either coming or going from Disneyland or catching a bite and the atmosphere of the Rainforest Café. But I had yet to venture into it.
The line had formed but wasn’t insane yet, so I hung out and spaced on the flora and fauna that surrounded me. There were weird bird things hanging off the lights and a bizarre totem pole thingy over in the corner. All in all a semi trendy but not too precocious joint. After the wait, during which the bouncers all in their little yellow and black pseudo-referee outfits milled around and did the man love hugs and chatted and obviously and painfully were ignoring all that waited, I went up the stairway and grabbed a rum and coke. Eight dollars less and holding a plastic cup that I was working on draining steadily I made my way through the place to check it out.
Now this was the first time I had not only gone to a concert by myself, but also the first time in the House of Blues. Now we, the fam and I, had walked by this place a dozen or more times over the years, either coming or going from Disneyland or catching a bite and the atmosphere of the Rainforest Café. But I had yet to venture into it.
The line had formed but wasn’t insane yet, so I hung out and spaced on the flora and fauna that surrounded me. There were weird bird things hanging off the lights and a bizarre totem pole thingy over in the corner. All in all a semi trendy but not too precocious joint. After the wait, during which the bouncers all in their little yellow and black pseudo-referee outfits milled around and did the man love hugs and chatted and obviously and painfully were ignoring all that waited, I went up the stairway and grabbed a rum and coke. Eight dollars less and holding a plastic cup that I was working on draining steadily I made my way through the place to check it out.
Motorgoofy Part 2
My first stop was to be the home of a friend of mine that resides in Hollywood. His significant other has his script so it’s always an interesting time had by all when I stop off there, plus I was thinking after the drive I would like to change my socks.
Now for those of you that are the uninitiated, if your feet are tired and worn out after a long day of trudging around your ponderous bulk, a change of socks can make a world of difference for your poor tired dogs. I try now to bring multiple pairs of socks on any trip anywhere primarily because I like the new day feeling for ones feet whence the socks are donned.
The drive down to my buddies was semi-uneventful, though the land and the tunes were beautiful and tasty. Highway 154 was under construction, which seems to be a constant thing, so I was able to drive through a cloud of dust from a ginormous bulldozer thingy dumping into a truck next to the one laned road they had for all. I took it fairly easy on the tunage as I was heading to a violent ear party and didn’t want to have my ears all partied out before I got there. A little of this, and a little of that, and I was there before I knew it.
I had called my buddy before during and after the drive to let him know I was coming, but since I am familiar with his sleeping habits I wasn’t at all surprised when I got the voice mail option to his phone consistently. So I trundled up the narrow hallway to his apartment and knocked on the door. I stared psychotically into his peephole and laughed when his eyeball appeared and disappeared and the door opened up.
“Hey man! I was just waking up!”
As it was only two ‘o’clock in the afternoon I was impressed he had a pair of pants on. Sans shirt was fine as he was sleepy and barely roused so I sat for a moment then went and got a pair of socks for freshening up the feetsies. I went pout to the car to collect the socks and returned to him in a shirt and slightly more coherent, changed the socks, and we went to a place called “Astroburger”. I had never been there and it was semi-cheap which was the requirement I gave to him, and I ordered the gyro and he got a coke. We chatted and walked back after procuring our respective vittles, and was there before his man got home. His man arrived with a flurry of books and mail and who knows what else and began to make requirements to smoking the interplanetary frop. As I have no compulsions to my own frop intake, I was on it before he was and so was waiting till he packed in his own bong, the “God’s Gift”. It was tasty, but the head change didn’t last too long, so once again I was on my own, traveling forth to the thrash metal mania that awaited me.
Now for those of you that are the uninitiated, if your feet are tired and worn out after a long day of trudging around your ponderous bulk, a change of socks can make a world of difference for your poor tired dogs. I try now to bring multiple pairs of socks on any trip anywhere primarily because I like the new day feeling for ones feet whence the socks are donned.
The drive down to my buddies was semi-uneventful, though the land and the tunes were beautiful and tasty. Highway 154 was under construction, which seems to be a constant thing, so I was able to drive through a cloud of dust from a ginormous bulldozer thingy dumping into a truck next to the one laned road they had for all. I took it fairly easy on the tunage as I was heading to a violent ear party and didn’t want to have my ears all partied out before I got there. A little of this, and a little of that, and I was there before I knew it.
I had called my buddy before during and after the drive to let him know I was coming, but since I am familiar with his sleeping habits I wasn’t at all surprised when I got the voice mail option to his phone consistently. So I trundled up the narrow hallway to his apartment and knocked on the door. I stared psychotically into his peephole and laughed when his eyeball appeared and disappeared and the door opened up.
“Hey man! I was just waking up!”
As it was only two ‘o’clock in the afternoon I was impressed he had a pair of pants on. Sans shirt was fine as he was sleepy and barely roused so I sat for a moment then went and got a pair of socks for freshening up the feetsies. I went pout to the car to collect the socks and returned to him in a shirt and slightly more coherent, changed the socks, and we went to a place called “Astroburger”. I had never been there and it was semi-cheap which was the requirement I gave to him, and I ordered the gyro and he got a coke. We chatted and walked back after procuring our respective vittles, and was there before his man got home. His man arrived with a flurry of books and mail and who knows what else and began to make requirements to smoking the interplanetary frop. As I have no compulsions to my own frop intake, I was on it before he was and so was waiting till he packed in his own bong, the “God’s Gift”. It was tasty, but the head change didn’t last too long, so once again I was on my own, traveling forth to the thrash metal mania that awaited me.
Motorgoofy Part 1
Motorgoofy
AKA
Mickeyhead
Or, How the Magic Kingdom Thrashed its Melon
It started at about 6:45 in the A.M. I needed my cute little daughter to paint my fingernails black, otherwise I thought I wouldn’t fit in as well as I could have with the crowd I was going to be in. So my sweet daughter did my nails, and I went off to work to fill in for the wifeykins. I had convinced her just the night before to stay home and study for her CSET exam, which in two weeks time was fast approaching, and she agreed, hesitantly I might add, and so I was work bound.
I made it to work and hung out doing the central supply thing, until the call of the road was too much to bear and at that time I made my way to the car, and so out of the land of work a day drudgery and into the land of fun car rides to the land of thrash metal mania. You see, I had the golden ticket and was ready and willing to have my ears assaulted by none other then the most furious and rockin’ band ever to grace this planet. The band Motorhead.
They were at the House of Blues in Anaheim and as the location was quite strange and bizarre being next to and designed by the team that brought you the happiest place on earth I was intrigued that Motorhead was going to be there. But as I am the tye-dyed informer it was my duty to be there and report back to you all. Not to mention the fact that I was insanely ready to have my eardrums blown out and my sternum rearranged by professionals. So I hit the road with water and a few energy drinks (from the dollar store no less) and was on the road by twelve.
AKA
Mickeyhead
Or, How the Magic Kingdom Thrashed its Melon
It started at about 6:45 in the A.M. I needed my cute little daughter to paint my fingernails black, otherwise I thought I wouldn’t fit in as well as I could have with the crowd I was going to be in. So my sweet daughter did my nails, and I went off to work to fill in for the wifeykins. I had convinced her just the night before to stay home and study for her CSET exam, which in two weeks time was fast approaching, and she agreed, hesitantly I might add, and so I was work bound.
I made it to work and hung out doing the central supply thing, until the call of the road was too much to bear and at that time I made my way to the car, and so out of the land of work a day drudgery and into the land of fun car rides to the land of thrash metal mania. You see, I had the golden ticket and was ready and willing to have my ears assaulted by none other then the most furious and rockin’ band ever to grace this planet. The band Motorhead.
They were at the House of Blues in Anaheim and as the location was quite strange and bizarre being next to and designed by the team that brought you the happiest place on earth I was intrigued that Motorhead was going to be there. But as I am the tye-dyed informer it was my duty to be there and report back to you all. Not to mention the fact that I was insanely ready to have my eardrums blown out and my sternum rearranged by professionals. So I hit the road with water and a few energy drinks (from the dollar store no less) and was on the road by twelve.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 16
We had planned and decided to hit the roller coaster at Primm again, as a send off to Nevada. We did, and the penny slots, and a few more rum and cokes for me, none for the drivin bruthah, and way too late we got back on the road.
The traffic was horrendous beyond horrendous. From Primm Nevada to Barstow, and the turn off to highway 58, we were hopping up and down happy when the car was able to go faster then ten miles and hour. But for the most part, hours and hours to get a few miles down the road. So it was hours and hours off coast to coast.
We stopped off in Barstow and had to avoid the same homeless guy in the parking lot of an am/pm for a potty stop, and hit the BK there as well. Also cheap and also good food that lasted us all the way home. I actually finished off the whoppers that my bruthah had a day or so later myself.
The journey back was excellent, with a major involved and excitable convo at the end of it involving aliens, Jesus, Christianity, the pathetic religions attached to the excellent ideas of a few people, all in all a good time and something that wiped away the sleepy bugs from our minds. Of course the positively riveting reading on the bathroom walls of the public restrooms was one of the high points. It’s funny, but bathrooms in rest stops actually have different vibes depending on the geographical areas you’re in. when we had headed up to Oregon I was using the facilities at a gas station and was not recognizing the slang on the bathroom walls. Being a California boy born and raised I figured it was something nasty and sexual, yet when I asked the station attendant he clarified that it was an ecological slight against the loggers of the area. And that, of course, just kind of blew my mind. After the trip I was pleased and comfortable to be back in the land of bisexual truckers and liaisons within the love gardens of the rest stop bathrooms.
We got in to the little town in which I dwell and the mist and fog were blanketing the area. It was nice to be back where the heat doesn’t get too crazy and the Vegasness is not so Vegas, but we both missed it and realized the other did as well. Hugs all around, the bruthah made a pit stop and I wandered around the living room, then walked him out to get my frop satchel out of my car and remind him to call me once he got home. I went in, and waited till he called, had a hit or two while I waited, then went upstairs to my family, my bed, and my life.
The traffic was horrendous beyond horrendous. From Primm Nevada to Barstow, and the turn off to highway 58, we were hopping up and down happy when the car was able to go faster then ten miles and hour. But for the most part, hours and hours to get a few miles down the road. So it was hours and hours off coast to coast.
We stopped off in Barstow and had to avoid the same homeless guy in the parking lot of an am/pm for a potty stop, and hit the BK there as well. Also cheap and also good food that lasted us all the way home. I actually finished off the whoppers that my bruthah had a day or so later myself.
The journey back was excellent, with a major involved and excitable convo at the end of it involving aliens, Jesus, Christianity, the pathetic religions attached to the excellent ideas of a few people, all in all a good time and something that wiped away the sleepy bugs from our minds. Of course the positively riveting reading on the bathroom walls of the public restrooms was one of the high points. It’s funny, but bathrooms in rest stops actually have different vibes depending on the geographical areas you’re in. when we had headed up to Oregon I was using the facilities at a gas station and was not recognizing the slang on the bathroom walls. Being a California boy born and raised I figured it was something nasty and sexual, yet when I asked the station attendant he clarified that it was an ecological slight against the loggers of the area. And that, of course, just kind of blew my mind. After the trip I was pleased and comfortable to be back in the land of bisexual truckers and liaisons within the love gardens of the rest stop bathrooms.
We got in to the little town in which I dwell and the mist and fog were blanketing the area. It was nice to be back where the heat doesn’t get too crazy and the Vegasness is not so Vegas, but we both missed it and realized the other did as well. Hugs all around, the bruthah made a pit stop and I wandered around the living room, then walked him out to get my frop satchel out of my car and remind him to call me once he got home. I went in, and waited till he called, had a hit or two while I waited, then went upstairs to my family, my bed, and my life.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 15
I was a bit famished, so we headed up to the all night diner angle at the hotel and got a steak and egg breakfast for like 6.99. Not too bad really, but I remember the old Vegas with the 99 cent shrimp cocktails and the buffets for three dollars that stretched like roman feasts. But no more. It’s a “kid friendly” Vegas, of all things, so those days seem to be gone and dead. Now it’s the days of luau’s for 39.95 with a cheesy stage and pork shipped in precut. It’s definitely not the make a deal Vegas of old, but yet at night, when the moon is full (or crescent, or gone, or whatever) it’s still got that Vegas feeling that will never die. That adage that everyone knows, “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” though I think if the tests from the clinic come back bad for you, whatever happened in Vegas followed you home.
I wanted to push the midnight oil lighting and burning, but we were both tired and the poor bruthah was going to have to drive the next day, so we hit the sack, foot sore and heart happy, but heavy as well for on the morrow we were back to our normal lives.
The next day was wakey wakey, but late enough to miss the shineys. They were heading back to the northern post they man (and woman respectively of course.) and so they were gone from Vegasness early. The bruthah and I headed down to say goodbye to the hotel and all her minions, after we packed the car, and for breakfast I had, for the Vegas goodbye tribute of course, two rum and cokes. When they say breakfast of champions, they mean a stiff rum and coke, or two. We penny slotted it and hung out for a bit, then moved out and down the road. We knew the day was still okay when Coast to Coast came back on, in the same spot, on ghost to ghost night. Gotta love that technology I tell ya. On the way out we hit a BK and got the cheapest meal we had had for at least three days if not more.
I wanted to push the midnight oil lighting and burning, but we were both tired and the poor bruthah was going to have to drive the next day, so we hit the sack, foot sore and heart happy, but heavy as well for on the morrow we were back to our normal lives.
The next day was wakey wakey, but late enough to miss the shineys. They were heading back to the northern post they man (and woman respectively of course.) and so they were gone from Vegasness early. The bruthah and I headed down to say goodbye to the hotel and all her minions, after we packed the car, and for breakfast I had, for the Vegas goodbye tribute of course, two rum and cokes. When they say breakfast of champions, they mean a stiff rum and coke, or two. We penny slotted it and hung out for a bit, then moved out and down the road. We knew the day was still okay when Coast to Coast came back on, in the same spot, on ghost to ghost night. Gotta love that technology I tell ya. On the way out we hit a BK and got the cheapest meal we had had for at least three days if not more.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 14
We wandered the Hilton hallways for a bit after the ice cream shop visit was done. Weird side note. They, the ice cream shop employees, closed the security gate without warning any of the patrons of their establishment. They actually closed it between a father and his young son, who then began to wail at ear piercing volumes because he wanted his father. Understandable of course.
We wandered a bit and then it was “pumpkin time” for Mrs. Shiney. We bid them adieu and just in case I didn’t get to say good bye I gave then the freaky love dog shakearoo. Once again Mr. Shiney was unnerved at his loss of footing upon terra firma, and that does I have to admit encourage me at times. Mrs. Shiney giggled like a little school girl and then it was time for them to sleep. During our good byes a younger girl with beautiful eyes came up and began to chat about bots and EQ1 and all. After we bid adieu to her and to the Shineys en masse, we wandered through the clinging and clanging of the casino. As we were hanging out there, a girl came up and began to ask about gaming and what the convention was and what we were doing. Then she asked if we wanted company. I had no idea what she was talking about and then realized that she was talking about Company with a capital….er…capital. We both said no, almost in tandem and I’m sure with a slight tremolo to the voice, and she moved on. Later I saw her talking to a lad in the corner. I hope she was safe and sane in her job. She also had gorgeous eyes. The cosmic Bruthah knew, so he said, what she was about but I had absolutely no clue.
We wandered a bit around the casino, then decided to mosey on over to the hotel we were staying at and played penny slots till our brains exploded. There we met a couple of guys that were at a postal convention for the non government postal services. He was what is called a moto photo journalist, which I guess involves motorcycles, photography, and journalism. From him I got the angle for the magazine circuit and what will pay for what. 25 cents a word for freelance and a dollar a word for larger publications. After reclaiming my mouth from the floor, I was ready to start writing for the New York Times, though I’d be surprised if they ever printed my musings and random recollections. Though they may some day, depending on the popularity of the book, whenever that thing gets released. He was doing a story on the west coasts piers and doing it from the back of a motorcycle, which really is the way to go. We chatted for a bit, then the bruthah and I moved on through the casino. We meandered a bit around the floor, played a few games, but didn’t go too crazy.
We wandered a bit and then it was “pumpkin time” for Mrs. Shiney. We bid them adieu and just in case I didn’t get to say good bye I gave then the freaky love dog shakearoo. Once again Mr. Shiney was unnerved at his loss of footing upon terra firma, and that does I have to admit encourage me at times. Mrs. Shiney giggled like a little school girl and then it was time for them to sleep. During our good byes a younger girl with beautiful eyes came up and began to chat about bots and EQ1 and all. After we bid adieu to her and to the Shineys en masse, we wandered through the clinging and clanging of the casino. As we were hanging out there, a girl came up and began to ask about gaming and what the convention was and what we were doing. Then she asked if we wanted company. I had no idea what she was talking about and then realized that she was talking about Company with a capital….er…capital. We both said no, almost in tandem and I’m sure with a slight tremolo to the voice, and she moved on. Later I saw her talking to a lad in the corner. I hope she was safe and sane in her job. She also had gorgeous eyes. The cosmic Bruthah knew, so he said, what she was about but I had absolutely no clue.
We wandered a bit around the casino, then decided to mosey on over to the hotel we were staying at and played penny slots till our brains exploded. There we met a couple of guys that were at a postal convention for the non government postal services. He was what is called a moto photo journalist, which I guess involves motorcycles, photography, and journalism. From him I got the angle for the magazine circuit and what will pay for what. 25 cents a word for freelance and a dollar a word for larger publications. After reclaiming my mouth from the floor, I was ready to start writing for the New York Times, though I’d be surprised if they ever printed my musings and random recollections. Though they may some day, depending on the popularity of the book, whenever that thing gets released. He was doing a story on the west coasts piers and doing it from the back of a motorcycle, which really is the way to go. We chatted for a bit, then the bruthah and I moved on through the casino. We meandered a bit around the floor, played a few games, but didn’t go too crazy.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 13
A few rum and cokes for me and a few Newcastle’s for the bruthah later, we were good and ready for the banquet. We headed back to the room; I was in need of a sock changing and a rest for a second. Got caught on the toilet in the room by the fam and talked till I dropped, but what I dropped will remain forever sewagized, and we made it to the Star Trek Klingon part of the experience as the shineys were getting off of it. We dug it with both hands and a shovel and got off to the Mrs. Shiney and a gut wrenching time. She had got motion sickness as it was a quite twitchy little ride. We moved to the banquet, where surly wait staff refused my need for a fork, but there was bitchin groovy EQer’s that gave up their forks and seats at their tables for us. I was the only one to eat, as the stomach issues of the shineys and the fullness of the bruthah respectively made it a moot point for them to want to eat. But since I carry with me a need for food and a bottomless pit for a stomach, I was all for it. The food was better this year then last year, but the lack of forks and my inability to eat my salad with a spoon, in conjunction with the staffs’ inability to find me a fork or even their willingness to bother to help me, put a slightly less then favorable slant on the whole endeavor.
The stomach of Sistah Shiney was still in turbulence so we all moved over to a little ice cream shop in the Hilton. I actually hung out a bit longer at the banquet, but as they began the public hazing aspects of it, I moved over to ice cream time.
Now of all the poultices and salves and remedies, nothing cures and upset stomach like a chocolate ice cream. As in evidence whence I arrived at the joint. They all were slurpin’ and lickin’ and having a general ice cream feeding frenzy of epic proportions. There had been a wedding reception near the banquet, so I watched the cute little eye candies making their way hither and yon. There were the inevitable weird drunken arguments, the bizarre dress and clothing, all the things that make a wedding unusual and eclectic.
The stomach of Sistah Shiney was still in turbulence so we all moved over to a little ice cream shop in the Hilton. I actually hung out a bit longer at the banquet, but as they began the public hazing aspects of it, I moved over to ice cream time.
Now of all the poultices and salves and remedies, nothing cures and upset stomach like a chocolate ice cream. As in evidence whence I arrived at the joint. They all were slurpin’ and lickin’ and having a general ice cream feeding frenzy of epic proportions. There had been a wedding reception near the banquet, so I watched the cute little eye candies making their way hither and yon. There were the inevitable weird drunken arguments, the bizarre dress and clothing, all the things that make a wedding unusual and eclectic.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 12
Today was the day we were going to do the Star Trek Experience, as it was closing and would be defunct by the first of September. So we went to get tickets and the line was around the block and out the door and halfway to Texas. So we all decided to hit a panel on the expansion to come in EQ2 and headed that way. Halfway through the guildhall section I became quite disgusted by all things Sony, the prices were crazy and totally geared toward the larger more uber guilds and like always Sony forgot about the smaller class of peasants in the game, so I headed to the outside of the joint and hung out and carcinogenated till my lungs were nice and brown. Heading back in I was greeted by the ohhs and ahhhs of people and their future possible stuff. And then the panel started in with “well, it takes a lot of work to figure out these things, so we’re not going to any time soon.” I think that one was in response to the epic weapons question and when it would occur. Friggin Sony. They never change, and yet I won’t ever stop loving and hating them in complete joy and sorrow. Beautiful bastards.
Afterwards we went and checked on the Star Trek thing and the line was somewhat less populous, so we got tickets and then a warp core breach and then headed into the Borg section of the experience. For those of you not familiar with the ride (again, read last years fan faire as this ride is a tradition.) you walk up a ramp that shows the start of the science of astronomy and space flight as it pertains to actual history, then they meld the Star Trek universe into it as you progress. All the movies are included and the series’, every thing was there and accounted for. We hung out waiting for the line to move along and then we got in. the Borg were tasty and assimilatory, Star Fleet was on its game as always, and we survived and were not assimilated into the collective.
Afterwards food was needed so we went to a cool Mexican restaurant in the Hilton and had nachos and food. It was excellent and tasty and totally hit the spot. That one to the left. As our shiney friends needed to go to the jousting feast thing they had going, and were hopefully going to be back by the time the banquet started, they left to get to their engagement and the bruthah and I hit the penny slots and that catchy tune from the B-52’s.
Afterwards we went and checked on the Star Trek thing and the line was somewhat less populous, so we got tickets and then a warp core breach and then headed into the Borg section of the experience. For those of you not familiar with the ride (again, read last years fan faire as this ride is a tradition.) you walk up a ramp that shows the start of the science of astronomy and space flight as it pertains to actual history, then they meld the Star Trek universe into it as you progress. All the movies are included and the series’, every thing was there and accounted for. We hung out waiting for the line to move along and then we got in. the Borg were tasty and assimilatory, Star Fleet was on its game as always, and we survived and were not assimilated into the collective.
Afterwards food was needed so we went to a cool Mexican restaurant in the Hilton and had nachos and food. It was excellent and tasty and totally hit the spot. That one to the left. As our shiney friends needed to go to the jousting feast thing they had going, and were hopefully going to be back by the time the banquet started, they left to get to their engagement and the bruthah and I hit the penny slots and that catchy tune from the B-52’s.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 11
So we made it back to the Hilton and saw the shineys to their bed, or at least the elevators that led at some point to their beds, and the brutah and I made our way out to the casino and the fun clinging and clanging that we love so much. I thought I was something special and ordered…water please. We hang out for a bit, then meandered up to the room, where even though we got into our respective sleeping platforms at a reasonable time, we still talked of things everquesty until three in the morning.
That night was brutal not only on my bowels for some reason, but on the rest of me as well. Every hour I awoke and used the toilet. Degraded it really. Then I got a bit of sleep and awoke bright and early at the crack of about eleven and was ready to go. After a monster or three. I awoke to the sound of my funk soul bruthah remarking on the ability one has to use EQ2 phrases in every day life. I was sleeping, he responds to a text message from the shineys that “ranger is medding”. And I was.
We ended up hooking up with our guildey shiney friends in their room at the Hilton and I passed on the shirts I had made for all of us to wear. There had been another guild that had shirts as well the night before, but they sucked and were made out of cheezy shirts and that weird gel squirt bottle stuff. Sure they looked cool for the night but I don’t think they would last for very long. Unlike my shirts, which I soaked in the dye for so long that the lettering almost didn’t show up. For that I slashed the prices and sold em for less. We all changed in the shiney’s bathroom, so I didn’t have to unleash the gutus on them, and we all were tye-dyed and beautiful. And on a side note, this was the first tye-dye to cleanse Mr. and Mrs. Shiney in their life times, so I got the tye-dye creator chubby.
That night was brutal not only on my bowels for some reason, but on the rest of me as well. Every hour I awoke and used the toilet. Degraded it really. Then I got a bit of sleep and awoke bright and early at the crack of about eleven and was ready to go. After a monster or three. I awoke to the sound of my funk soul bruthah remarking on the ability one has to use EQ2 phrases in every day life. I was sleeping, he responds to a text message from the shineys that “ranger is medding”. And I was.
We ended up hooking up with our guildey shiney friends in their room at the Hilton and I passed on the shirts I had made for all of us to wear. There had been another guild that had shirts as well the night before, but they sucked and were made out of cheezy shirts and that weird gel squirt bottle stuff. Sure they looked cool for the night but I don’t think they would last for very long. Unlike my shirts, which I soaked in the dye for so long that the lettering almost didn’t show up. For that I slashed the prices and sold em for less. We all changed in the shiney’s bathroom, so I didn’t have to unleash the gutus on them, and we all were tye-dyed and beautiful. And on a side note, this was the first tye-dye to cleanse Mr. and Mrs. Shiney in their life times, so I got the tye-dye creator chubby.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 10
Sony had booked the sports center thingy pavilion out near the airport and so the busses were waiting by 8:30 pm. We got a few rum and cokes for the bruthah and I, he was living dangerously that night, so we actually paid for a couple drinks, quaffed them down, and went to meet the busses and our guildy friends.
The line was great as we were able to bond with new friends and old ones; everyone was feeling a geek heavenly love thing. Lots a smiles and head nods. The line moved quickly and we got to our busses and into them. I suggested we hit the back of the bus, cuz that’s where it’s at of course. All those years in the public school system taught me that at least. So we got to our seats, and there was a barely detectable smell in the bus. It just happened to be in the back, where we were, and at first it was annoying but not as heinous, awful, poisonous, deadly, and brain damaging as it became. I personally got such a wicked painful headache that the only thing that could salve my ills was a heavy drinking binge, and Sony was about to deliver it.
They had go carts, they had rock walls, they had live karaoke (which yours truly really was going to do at some point, but the evening got away from me I swear!), they had batting cages, pool tables. They really had a good time and it was had by all, though it did pale in comparison from last years pool party that will live in infamy and shall remain seared in my mind for all eternity. Our shineys were there and we all raced and played and talked and babbled and had a generally good time. The drinks were something to be reckoned with though, as I was a cheeky bastard and when asked by the bartender to say when I turned around and he didn’t stop pouring. I was amazed and then went into strange epileptic like shock waves that swept through my entire body as I tried to force my physique to drink the noxious mixture. I have to say it, and for all the alchies out there I apologize in advance. The drink was too strong for me. There. It’s off my chest. I actually flung my water in my Nalgene from me and poured the mixture into it and then went and got two more normal rum and cokes just to cut it with. It’s still in my backpack, these many weeks later. I’ll get to that evil stuff soon I swear it.
The brutah was in rare form. Every so often he would come up to me and say that the smile he had on his face was one that had gone from happy and funny to sad and bewildered, though I only saw happy and fun myself. I still think that was in his head. So a good time was had by all, but a quick side note to the shineys. I knew you were only fooling the drunken talk, for the drinking did not consume you. I know. I really do I tell ya.
The line was great as we were able to bond with new friends and old ones; everyone was feeling a geek heavenly love thing. Lots a smiles and head nods. The line moved quickly and we got to our busses and into them. I suggested we hit the back of the bus, cuz that’s where it’s at of course. All those years in the public school system taught me that at least. So we got to our seats, and there was a barely detectable smell in the bus. It just happened to be in the back, where we were, and at first it was annoying but not as heinous, awful, poisonous, deadly, and brain damaging as it became. I personally got such a wicked painful headache that the only thing that could salve my ills was a heavy drinking binge, and Sony was about to deliver it.
They had go carts, they had rock walls, they had live karaoke (which yours truly really was going to do at some point, but the evening got away from me I swear!), they had batting cages, pool tables. They really had a good time and it was had by all, though it did pale in comparison from last years pool party that will live in infamy and shall remain seared in my mind for all eternity. Our shineys were there and we all raced and played and talked and babbled and had a generally good time. The drinks were something to be reckoned with though, as I was a cheeky bastard and when asked by the bartender to say when I turned around and he didn’t stop pouring. I was amazed and then went into strange epileptic like shock waves that swept through my entire body as I tried to force my physique to drink the noxious mixture. I have to say it, and for all the alchies out there I apologize in advance. The drink was too strong for me. There. It’s off my chest. I actually flung my water in my Nalgene from me and poured the mixture into it and then went and got two more normal rum and cokes just to cut it with. It’s still in my backpack, these many weeks later. I’ll get to that evil stuff soon I swear it.
The brutah was in rare form. Every so often he would come up to me and say that the smile he had on his face was one that had gone from happy and funny to sad and bewildered, though I only saw happy and fun myself. I still think that was in his head. So a good time was had by all, but a quick side note to the shineys. I knew you were only fooling the drunken talk, for the drinking did not consume you. I know. I really do I tell ya.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 9
Our friends from last year showed up and we all decided to stick with the group as we had it last year, but there were two slots open, for the shiny guildies whence they arrived. We started it and I was not as involved or even really into it as much as I was last year. For some reason this year was shaping up to be not so much the fan faire and much more the Vegasity of Vegasness. Then the bruthah arrived and there was a need for the intrepid informer. We had to sing a song or say a rhyme to Rodcet Knife for the completion of one of the facets of the live event, so it fell to me. The pseudobard, the freaky minstrel, the tye-dyed monkey. As I was enjoying a decent buzz from several different vectors, I came up with this little passage of prose:
“Rodcet Knife,
You give us life,
Your everlasting kindness,
“Sans” our blindness.
If we’re in need of a smoothie,
You make it especially groovy.
So in conclusion,
Cure our confusion,
And free us from our strife!”
I know. It’s like manna from cerebral heaven. So I went over to lay that piece a tasty on the NPC guy hanging out and about the convention area. I hailed him, he responded. I questioned, he responded. I went all prose monkey bug fish on him and he was awed by the pontification I must say. I got the image of Rodcet Knife that we needed (it resembled a small green alien rubberized figure) and transported it back to the group. We got the rest of the stuff (there were word searches. Sony got clever this year and actually put in a bug to the quest we had to do, so we were forced to search out the developers hiding on a bench and “fix” the issue. Good job Sony.) and turned it all in. During the live quest the guildies showed up from the northern parts of the north, and I did the love shake to em both. For a man of girth, my shiney buddy was very light. I think it was the stiffening reaction of his entire being to losing his footing and floating like magic into the air. Then it was time for drinking and …er…drinking some more.
“Rodcet Knife,
You give us life,
Your everlasting kindness,
“Sans” our blindness.
If we’re in need of a smoothie,
You make it especially groovy.
So in conclusion,
Cure our confusion,
And free us from our strife!”
I know. It’s like manna from cerebral heaven. So I went over to lay that piece a tasty on the NPC guy hanging out and about the convention area. I hailed him, he responded. I questioned, he responded. I went all prose monkey bug fish on him and he was awed by the pontification I must say. I got the image of Rodcet Knife that we needed (it resembled a small green alien rubberized figure) and transported it back to the group. We got the rest of the stuff (there were word searches. Sony got clever this year and actually put in a bug to the quest we had to do, so we were forced to search out the developers hiding on a bench and “fix” the issue. Good job Sony.) and turned it all in. During the live quest the guildies showed up from the northern parts of the north, and I did the love shake to em both. For a man of girth, my shiney buddy was very light. I think it was the stiffening reaction of his entire being to losing his footing and floating like magic into the air. Then it was time for drinking and …er…drinking some more.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 8
We got to their room, the frop was cleansed, loaded, and fropalized with great gusto. They started to fade, and as we had imbibed the great monster drinks that are at every monorail stop, we went on to penny slots and fun fun fun. After 2 am we finally got to our room and our heads hit the pillow and sleep over came us.
The next day we rose to a shower and yogurt. This was to be the day we would finally meet our guildy friends and we were both excited. I had met my shiny buddy in EQ1 and had inducted him into the guild we had had at the time. As the guild had grown and changed he had stayed with us, and had been one of the original to transfer over to EQ2. He had talked his wifey into playing as well and they make quite a serious ass kicking team. We had talked for many a year about many different things, from religion, to life, to kids. I was ready to give em a grab and a shake like a freaky tye-dyed love doggy. Which I did, but that came later.
There were a few things that my bruthah wanted to hit, panels that looked interesting and a live event, so until then we wandered the rooms and areas around the fan faire. The bruthah hit the bathroom for a midmorning dance, and came back out saying “You gotta see this”. We went inside and there were pictures of different girls above the urinals. Some were laughing, some were wide eyed and holding their hands far apart with a satisfaction, some had magnifying glasses and a finger pointing. It was excellent and wonderful, so I picked the one with the yardstick, and lived the fantasy for a moment. Got done early and headed out, past where the shoe shine guy was. I asked him, felling filled with the Vegasness of Vegas how much a shine was. Now my boots were hideous things abused at every turn, yet this gentleman, for five dollars I might add, brought my boots to life that would have made a drill sergeant weep at the beauty, then force you to drop and give him twenty. I paid the man six and went and broke one of the precious twenties, and went back and gave him another buck. I’m cheep, but he rocked.
The next day we rose to a shower and yogurt. This was to be the day we would finally meet our guildy friends and we were both excited. I had met my shiny buddy in EQ1 and had inducted him into the guild we had had at the time. As the guild had grown and changed he had stayed with us, and had been one of the original to transfer over to EQ2. He had talked his wifey into playing as well and they make quite a serious ass kicking team. We had talked for many a year about many different things, from religion, to life, to kids. I was ready to give em a grab and a shake like a freaky tye-dyed love doggy. Which I did, but that came later.
There were a few things that my bruthah wanted to hit, panels that looked interesting and a live event, so until then we wandered the rooms and areas around the fan faire. The bruthah hit the bathroom for a midmorning dance, and came back out saying “You gotta see this”. We went inside and there were pictures of different girls above the urinals. Some were laughing, some were wide eyed and holding their hands far apart with a satisfaction, some had magnifying glasses and a finger pointing. It was excellent and wonderful, so I picked the one with the yardstick, and lived the fantasy for a moment. Got done early and headed out, past where the shoe shine guy was. I asked him, felling filled with the Vegasness of Vegas how much a shine was. Now my boots were hideous things abused at every turn, yet this gentleman, for five dollars I might add, brought my boots to life that would have made a drill sergeant weep at the beauty, then force you to drop and give him twenty. I paid the man six and went and broke one of the precious twenties, and went back and gave him another buck. I’m cheep, but he rocked.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 7
As the night progressed, they continued to finish off their drinks and the orange Julius friend, she of the octopi arms and leaning grasp, began to have shouting and screaming sessions into her phone. It seemed her boyfriend (of three months) didn’t like the idea of her in Vegas. It seemed that he was a slightly insecure lad and was trying like hell to bring down her good times. She also shared her addiction to cocaine, that she hadn’t touched in many a year, and that of all things he hated it when she used her toys. After that statement she said she needed to find someone to have sex with, and we steered her away from us and to a less matrimonial section of the establishment. For some reason she didn’t get the point when we were waving our hands in the air and accenting our rings. As she left my bruthah turned to me and smiled the smile of happiness and safety. It was just one of the many times where we would turn to each other and say something tasty in response to a fine figured woman. Hmmm…Vegas. As she left my parting response to her was to be safe, in whatever she wanted to do, and we all parted company.
The couple from last year ended up calling us and guided us to another bar in the hotel, which we went to, and I indicated that I would love to take them up on the offer of some interplanetary frop. They acquiesced, and we hit the monorail to their room at the Sahara. As we were walking up to the monorail station I, and my bruthah, were both asked if the intake of said interplanetary frop was allowed. I laughed and said yes, he didn’t mind but as it was his car we took both last year and this year, it was unfair of me to transport frop in his vehicle. So after all that was settled we went to their room.
Now the amazing thing was that the security at the Sahara was psychotic. We were almost accosted, walking with our friends, as to where and how we were getting to the room. We all stated to her that we were with them, and she moved to attack others behind us. Thank god for security I say, but the stringent aspect of it was a little much.
The couple from last year ended up calling us and guided us to another bar in the hotel, which we went to, and I indicated that I would love to take them up on the offer of some interplanetary frop. They acquiesced, and we hit the monorail to their room at the Sahara. As we were walking up to the monorail station I, and my bruthah, were both asked if the intake of said interplanetary frop was allowed. I laughed and said yes, he didn’t mind but as it was his car we took both last year and this year, it was unfair of me to transport frop in his vehicle. So after all that was settled we went to their room.
Now the amazing thing was that the security at the Sahara was psychotic. We were almost accosted, walking with our friends, as to where and how we were getting to the room. We all stated to her that we were with them, and she moved to attack others behind us. Thank god for security I say, but the stringent aspect of it was a little much.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 6
As we exited the fan faire to get a drink finally we ran into the folks from last year. For those of you that don’t know what I’m talking about you need to read last years fan faire. For those of you up on the info, she had left him for him; they now were living together in Texas of all places. Other guy showed up as well, but Mr. intense wasn’t there, nor was the ex-beau of hers. And there ya go. They had all been drinking since at least 11am according to them, the lucky bastards, and as it was getting on eight of the clock for us and I was feeling slightly RABID for booze, a warp core breach to be exact, I disentangled myself from them and RAN not walked to the tastyness that is Quark’s bar, right by the Star Trek Experience. Now the sad thing is that that wondrous vibe of geekdom is going to be no more as of September first of 2008, and for that the Hilton gets a big ol’ shame on you from me. According to the rumor mill the Hilton was unwilling to allow for them to remain and didn’t even bother to talk to them about their lease options. Or lack of them that is. But we were not there for entertainment, we were there for BOOZE!!! And booze we got in the shape of a Warp Core Breach, courtesy of the surly lad behind the bar.
Now for those of you not yet initiated in the love of the breach, let me educate you. First you grab the fishbowl yes, the fishbowl. No no no, that other one, the ten gallon one. That’s it. Now, you pour in every possible version and variation of Bacardi rums and razzmatazz and some fruit juice or something or other, and dry ice for the bubbles. Now when the guy, bearing it with two hands that is, comes to your stool and drops this puppy off, make sure there’s more then one of ya to drink it. As there was the man who will forever be known as the Bruthah and I, we were good. So good in fact that I got quite a head rush and was slightly uncomfortable for a bit. Afterwards, with our head rush on, we retired to the penny slots and played the penny computer slots. Now there is one game my bruthah excels at and its all because of the music involved. It’s a game that uses the song “Rock Lobster” by the B-52’s. On the bonus round it has a guy with a thick eastern accent talking about introducing the lobster caught to some butter and that you got a good one. As my bruthah got bonus round mania, he began his bonus round dance. It involved lots of shoulder work and many a jiggle and jounce. There was a girl standing near by and she remarked that after he won a bonus round he had forgotten to dance. He then laughed, said “Oh ya!” and began to dance the shimmy dance of conquering. Her friend, who was quite inebriated, sat down next to him and began to lean and flirt. My bruthah, being the sweet guy he is, became very embarrassed and began the “I’m married and quite uncomfortable” lean. As he moved away, she would in tern move forward, so the lean of decency began. I merely sat and watched the festivities, but was unconcerned as I could step in at any moment and be the man my bruthah loves and respects. Namely the loud and fairly, when needed, obnoxious one. But at the time, and even later as she practiced her lean on me, I figured her being drunk was cause enough for a gentler and fairer hand. She had finished her DUI classes before coming to Vegas and so I was not at all worried for either me or my brother. They let us taste their drinks they had brought back from I think hooters, and they were delicious. One tasted like an orange Julius drink and the other tasted like a strawberry margarita, which it was, but it had crushed and blended strawberries in it and was the one I preferred. But since we were at the Hilton, it was all about the warp core breaches and serious inebriation.
Now for those of you not yet initiated in the love of the breach, let me educate you. First you grab the fishbowl yes, the fishbowl. No no no, that other one, the ten gallon one. That’s it. Now, you pour in every possible version and variation of Bacardi rums and razzmatazz and some fruit juice or something or other, and dry ice for the bubbles. Now when the guy, bearing it with two hands that is, comes to your stool and drops this puppy off, make sure there’s more then one of ya to drink it. As there was the man who will forever be known as the Bruthah and I, we were good. So good in fact that I got quite a head rush and was slightly uncomfortable for a bit. Afterwards, with our head rush on, we retired to the penny slots and played the penny computer slots. Now there is one game my bruthah excels at and its all because of the music involved. It’s a game that uses the song “Rock Lobster” by the B-52’s. On the bonus round it has a guy with a thick eastern accent talking about introducing the lobster caught to some butter and that you got a good one. As my bruthah got bonus round mania, he began his bonus round dance. It involved lots of shoulder work and many a jiggle and jounce. There was a girl standing near by and she remarked that after he won a bonus round he had forgotten to dance. He then laughed, said “Oh ya!” and began to dance the shimmy dance of conquering. Her friend, who was quite inebriated, sat down next to him and began to lean and flirt. My bruthah, being the sweet guy he is, became very embarrassed and began the “I’m married and quite uncomfortable” lean. As he moved away, she would in tern move forward, so the lean of decency began. I merely sat and watched the festivities, but was unconcerned as I could step in at any moment and be the man my bruthah loves and respects. Namely the loud and fairly, when needed, obnoxious one. But at the time, and even later as she practiced her lean on me, I figured her being drunk was cause enough for a gentler and fairer hand. She had finished her DUI classes before coming to Vegas and so I was not at all worried for either me or my brother. They let us taste their drinks they had brought back from I think hooters, and they were delicious. One tasted like an orange Julius drink and the other tasted like a strawberry margarita, which it was, but it had crushed and blended strawberries in it and was the one I preferred. But since we were at the Hilton, it was all about the warp core breaches and serious inebriation.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 5
The motif was Asian I think, though they did it with the flair that is Vegas to such a degree that you only get it in small doses. The Aisianess I mean. The rest is “where you from?” concierges and “cocktails?” from the well endowed waitresses. I am under the firm belief that there must be a cup size requirement for the waitresses there, for they were quite bouncy and efficacious. Yet there were those that, when asked of course, would REFUSE to get a poor man a drink. I was amazed. It seemed that there were areas, though it makes sense to a certain degree I guess, but it was evil incarnate at the time. And I think that they got wise to the penny slots angle my bruthah and I had goin last year, though at the Rio they were very fluid in their disbursements. Also last year. So we actually paid for drinks at many points throughout the weekend. I shed a single tear for the money wasted.
After we checked in and roamed the hotel, just a little, we headed over to the Hilton and the fan faire check in. we arrived to a Sony flub up as the name I had given them was not the name they had for me. As my character in EQ2 my last name is Sequoia, though they had me down as Serverquestaquoia. Kinda whacky, yet changeable. And so after a bit of noise and other flub up control was activated I got a little sticker thingy to put over my name badge, by a girl who had fairly straight hands I must say. She clipped the edges and stuck it on and the bruthah and I wandered the “shop” area and checked out the stuff. The choice that I belabored on whether to acquire the ranger Zippo lighter was taken from me as they had no lighters left in the ranger category. I’m sure that money went into a slot machine somewhere though, no worries.
They had the usual crap from last year. Multiple ads for all the new Sony stuff coming out, the swag bag area of course, and a little bit of renaissance faireishness by way of clothing and goblets and all. Seemed like the Faire prices were in evidence as well, though for the craftsmanship it wasn’t too horrible. Just slightly painful.
After we checked in and roamed the hotel, just a little, we headed over to the Hilton and the fan faire check in. we arrived to a Sony flub up as the name I had given them was not the name they had for me. As my character in EQ2 my last name is Sequoia, though they had me down as Serverquestaquoia. Kinda whacky, yet changeable. And so after a bit of noise and other flub up control was activated I got a little sticker thingy to put over my name badge, by a girl who had fairly straight hands I must say. She clipped the edges and stuck it on and the bruthah and I wandered the “shop” area and checked out the stuff. The choice that I belabored on whether to acquire the ranger Zippo lighter was taken from me as they had no lighters left in the ranger category. I’m sure that money went into a slot machine somewhere though, no worries.
They had the usual crap from last year. Multiple ads for all the new Sony stuff coming out, the swag bag area of course, and a little bit of renaissance faireishness by way of clothing and goblets and all. Seemed like the Faire prices were in evidence as well, though for the craftsmanship it wasn’t too horrible. Just slightly painful.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 4
We stopped in Primm Nevada, home of buffalo bills (and yes, it’s a big freaky buffalo) and the “DESPERADO” rollercoaster. If at any point I was to specify the Vegasness of it all, this was the time. We both strapped ourselves in, and began to scream not unlike the little girl children on their way to a social. Only with much more wailing and gnashing of teeth. Afterwards, there was no more fatigue with this little informer, nor with the bruthah, and there was much enjoyment and hemming and hawing of the merits of this spectacular jaunt in the land of Gee’s. We hung out for a sec, played a few games at their cleverly placed arcade at the exit to the coaster, and moved on down the road.
We cruised into Vegas on the wave of a balmy and singeing 110 degree heat that was awful and horrid, at least to me. As was to the bruthah, yet he said he liked the heat. I think that came later, after the Captain Morgan and coke though. So into Vegas we tripped, de-stuffified the trunk of the car, and made our way into the cool and beauty of an air conditioned hotel.
Our room was pre-arranged, all give props to the bruthah he of the planning and the information gathering. If he had been alive in the distant past he would have been a records keeper. A wizened historian that would know all there was to know on all things knowable. Ya know? As we waited for the room a tall Amazonian woman, sweet unlike those crazed woman of lore though, was in line behind us in a Vader shirt. I pointed to her and exclaimed “SWG?” and her response was…”What?” So began the explanation of the fan faire, and all aspects of that twisted and decadent Sony universe. She was altogether friendly and was interested, so I passed on the card, as I do so often, and told her she should check out the faire. I didn’t see her there, but that doesn’t mean anything as the fan faire was a very small part to our Vegas experience. After great giggling and laughing from the receptionist at check in we got our room number and the card keys to our rooms. With a wave to she of the tall stature, we boogeyed through the lobby with its clangs and ching ching chings and all that is Vegas and found the elevators that led us up to the air-conditioned goodness that was our domicile for the weekend.
We cruised into Vegas on the wave of a balmy and singeing 110 degree heat that was awful and horrid, at least to me. As was to the bruthah, yet he said he liked the heat. I think that came later, after the Captain Morgan and coke though. So into Vegas we tripped, de-stuffified the trunk of the car, and made our way into the cool and beauty of an air conditioned hotel.
Our room was pre-arranged, all give props to the bruthah he of the planning and the information gathering. If he had been alive in the distant past he would have been a records keeper. A wizened historian that would know all there was to know on all things knowable. Ya know? As we waited for the room a tall Amazonian woman, sweet unlike those crazed woman of lore though, was in line behind us in a Vader shirt. I pointed to her and exclaimed “SWG?” and her response was…”What?” So began the explanation of the fan faire, and all aspects of that twisted and decadent Sony universe. She was altogether friendly and was interested, so I passed on the card, as I do so often, and told her she should check out the faire. I didn’t see her there, but that doesn’t mean anything as the fan faire was a very small part to our Vegas experience. After great giggling and laughing from the receptionist at check in we got our room number and the card keys to our rooms. With a wave to she of the tall stature, we boogeyed through the lobby with its clangs and ching ching chings and all that is Vegas and found the elevators that led us up to the air-conditioned goodness that was our domicile for the weekend.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 3
So the ride is on. We listened for awhile to show tunes, some light and airy conversation occurred and then the question to start the voyage…”King Crimson?” I guess his kids didn’t really dig it, but when I asked the girl child requested to listen to it. The bruthah acquiesced, and we rocked out to “Discipline”. There was one slight moment of “What is this?” but it was drowned in the sea of music that flooded like water to my parched mind, devoid of all things “Crimson” for oh so long.
Sing with me! “Thela hun jin geet thela hun jin geet!” Love that album.
So, the kids were carefully and readily ensconced at the home of my bruthahs Honored Madre, the woman of his birth, and I broke out the “Art of War” in her driveway. We were ready to begin the major push to Vegas and had finished all f atherly activities for days to come.
I don’t exactly remember the entire passage, but it’s a tradition that I started some time back. At the beginning of a trip, a hike, a journey, even when it’s only me, I take a passage from the Sun Tsu’s book and find many instances in which the journey shows that certain passage to occur within reality. Or at least the reality of the journey we’re on at the time. So the passage that sped us on our way was about the attacking of large and small forces, I think. My bruthah chuckled as I gave him the “wow that’s trippy and intense man ya man ya” nod with the raised eyebrow and we entrenched ourselves in the seats for a long and anticipatory ride to Vegas, and what it would bring.
As we traveled my bruthah, the man among men and the true captain of all that is bitchin’, put on for our listening and grooving enjoyment, coast to coast AM. Now these weren’t any C2C, these were ghost to ghost episodes and none of the ones he had were ones that I had acquired. So we grooved and watched the arid desert and watched the thermometer on his dash board rise and rise and rise until the surface of the sun, at least to me, would have been a cooler safer place. But sometimes, so I’ve been told though I think it’s untrue, I have a penchant for the dramatic. So maybe not the sun. Maybe just mercury.
Along the way we stopped at a gyro joint that was pithy in their statements about themselves on the roadside billboards, but upon arrival the prices of the festive feasties were a bit out of our financial reach. We went outside for a bit and stood crisping in the desert sun. While there we saw a homeless guy stagger up with a slightly wet and empty container for water and a sweat shirt on. As the temperature was 109 Fahrenheit seeing this poor man, crumpled and ruffled and forgotten, it put into perspective my life with my wife, our children, and my entire existence. And also put into perspective how close to that edge most of America is. How we go from paycheck to paycheck, barely surviving, always on the perilous edge. We both needed to let loose the golden flow, so we used the facilities and moved on down the road.
Sing with me! “Thela hun jin geet thela hun jin geet!” Love that album.
So, the kids were carefully and readily ensconced at the home of my bruthahs Honored Madre, the woman of his birth, and I broke out the “Art of War” in her driveway. We were ready to begin the major push to Vegas and had finished all f atherly activities for days to come.
I don’t exactly remember the entire passage, but it’s a tradition that I started some time back. At the beginning of a trip, a hike, a journey, even when it’s only me, I take a passage from the Sun Tsu’s book and find many instances in which the journey shows that certain passage to occur within reality. Or at least the reality of the journey we’re on at the time. So the passage that sped us on our way was about the attacking of large and small forces, I think. My bruthah chuckled as I gave him the “wow that’s trippy and intense man ya man ya” nod with the raised eyebrow and we entrenched ourselves in the seats for a long and anticipatory ride to Vegas, and what it would bring.
As we traveled my bruthah, the man among men and the true captain of all that is bitchin’, put on for our listening and grooving enjoyment, coast to coast AM. Now these weren’t any C2C, these were ghost to ghost episodes and none of the ones he had were ones that I had acquired. So we grooved and watched the arid desert and watched the thermometer on his dash board rise and rise and rise until the surface of the sun, at least to me, would have been a cooler safer place. But sometimes, so I’ve been told though I think it’s untrue, I have a penchant for the dramatic. So maybe not the sun. Maybe just mercury.
Along the way we stopped at a gyro joint that was pithy in their statements about themselves on the roadside billboards, but upon arrival the prices of the festive feasties were a bit out of our financial reach. We went outside for a bit and stood crisping in the desert sun. While there we saw a homeless guy stagger up with a slightly wet and empty container for water and a sweat shirt on. As the temperature was 109 Fahrenheit seeing this poor man, crumpled and ruffled and forgotten, it put into perspective my life with my wife, our children, and my entire existence. And also put into perspective how close to that edge most of America is. How we go from paycheck to paycheck, barely surviving, always on the perilous edge. We both needed to let loose the golden flow, so we used the facilities and moved on down the road.
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 2
It was the day, early in the day I might add, and the lack of sleep the night before in anticipation of the event had yet to abuse my system. The meet place was an insurance company’s parking lot in a small town, that is actually slightly larger then the small town where in I reside. We, the fam and I, got to the parking lot before the bruthah man, and immediately the wifeykins is thinking he won’t show, or the time was wrong, or..or..or… I love her, but she makey me psycho at times. So he shows, dressed in a tye-dye of all things, along with his daughter. Now a quick side note to the daughter of the sistah and the bruthah.
Long before your tye-dyed informer bred and propagated, he was sucked in to his sisters’ pregnancy. I would pants her in the street outside her house, cuz that’s what brothers do. At least this freaky brother does that. So at the time I was working noc shift and was sleeping away the daytime hours as much as possible. But on the day of her arrival, I woke up, totally aware I might add (which is a feat in and of itself), and immediately called the hospital. I knew the number of the room, as I had visited my sis in her domicile of birth, so I dialed it up real quick like and sat at my table in my trailer of the time and waited for the answer. And waited. And waited. After my leg was jittering so hard and the wait was killin me, I leaped into my clothes and vaulted into the truck I had and sped on down the road. I arrived to a little girl child, the first I might add in the family, and was anxious about touching her. I was a smoker back then and was looking for the sink to be able to wash my hands and my moms says “You’re not the first uncle that smokes.” Seemed like words of wisdom at the time, so I reached out and grabbed her little hands and so began my life as “unca”.
But then there was VEGAS!!!!!
Long before your tye-dyed informer bred and propagated, he was sucked in to his sisters’ pregnancy. I would pants her in the street outside her house, cuz that’s what brothers do. At least this freaky brother does that. So at the time I was working noc shift and was sleeping away the daytime hours as much as possible. But on the day of her arrival, I woke up, totally aware I might add (which is a feat in and of itself), and immediately called the hospital. I knew the number of the room, as I had visited my sis in her domicile of birth, so I dialed it up real quick like and sat at my table in my trailer of the time and waited for the answer. And waited. And waited. After my leg was jittering so hard and the wait was killin me, I leaped into my clothes and vaulted into the truck I had and sped on down the road. I arrived to a little girl child, the first I might add in the family, and was anxious about touching her. I was a smoker back then and was looking for the sink to be able to wash my hands and my moms says “You’re not the first uncle that smokes.” Seemed like words of wisdom at the time, so I reached out and grabbed her little hands and so began my life as “unca”.
But then there was VEGAS!!!!!
SOE Fan Faire 2008 Part 1
SOE Fan Faire 2008
The Fan Faire Strikes Back
Ahhhh…Vegas makes me do that. Let loose with a tasty and altogether yummy exhalation of breath with the reminiscence of a Vegas well done.
Once again little monkeys, the fan faire has come and gone. New friends were found, old friends newly met, old friends reacquainted, many cards passed out, and tye-dyes worn and distributed. Yet to truly give a decent accounting we must part the veil and stretch ourselves back into the distant reaches of…er…bout three months ago.
The conversation between my bruthah from der uthah muthah:
“Duder! You excited about your trip?” (he was going to parts away and semi-known with fam in tow)
“I can’t wait for Vegas man.”
And that had been it for months. Mental preparation for crazy lack of sleep and excessive drinking and mass geek outs till dawn came again over that sere (that’s for you, and you know who you are!) landscape and blinded our geek filled eyes.
This year was the year we would head to Vegas for the “full Monty” as they say. We were going to take our geek fest to the limit of common geek decency and then take it a little bit further. For those of you that have perused my odd narratives before, specifically the previous Fan Faire, you remember that we didn’t get into Vegas last year till late Friday evening. This year we weren’t going to loose out on anything Fan Faireish, so the plan was leave at eight in the morning and be there and be square. So as the time ticked ever closer, ever closer, the fever pitch of our geek fest rose and rose. My cosmic broskotomie tried to keep it under control, as he is a fairly controlled kind of guy, so of course me being me I had to unleash the freak out whenever around him and whenever possible. And then the wait was over.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Where I Have Been Part 6
Now for those of you not informed on the ways of the gamer, they are a unique and troubled lot. A lot of outsiders, a lot of fringers one might say, they gravitate to this realm because of a need to be more then what they are, or even to be able to be someone they aren’t. when I was able to actually play D&D {dungeons and dragons that is} I was always looking for an interesting class or “job” for my character. I would try, like some do I’m sure, to tap in at times to different sections of my psyche. Some were not people I would want to meet, some were fine people with decent outlooks on their existence.
Now the last time I was surrounded by a large section of a gaming community, I was once again visiting the same friend, but this time it was at a gaming convention in LA. They were in the middle of a LARP of vampire and they were in full costume. It was quite fun to watch them go hither and yon about the hotel and watch the “straights” get weirded out. At this meeting I had my daughter and my wife with me, and the daughter was around five I think. We all sat down with my friend and played a game of zombies. Now if you’ve never heard of it the game has a simple premise. Get out of the city alive and make it to the helipad. So far, and I’ve bought the game since then, I’ve never played a game where anyone’s made it to the helipad. But I admit I need to game a lot more.
So, shpeel after shpeel, and drink after drink , I helped to celebrate the birth of my friend in an LA bar that tried for the pub look. Now these guys, they are some cider drinking fiends. Pitcher after pitcher went down these guys and I sat with my mouth open and wondered how they’d be able to find the road. But find the road they did, and quite well I must say. After a stop at a burrito joint and a walk down the street doing hooker spotting we made it to the friends house of my friend. When we got into the pad, the others that were left were drinking sake and talking D&D. another thing about these gamer types, the game never ends and the talking never stops. Rules questions, character generation queries, its all tied in to it. When at the SOE fan faire I was inundated with the game as well. But when in Vegas, the last thing I want to do is sit in a hotel room and talk about a game. There are drinks to drink and half naked women to ogle.
So I went back to the friends joint, after the sake stop, and literally fell to a deep sleep on a large sack thing they have as furniture. They are hella comfortable and quite malleable.
I awoke the next day and flitted my way up to the north, pausing ever so slightly to drop off shirts at the other friends in
Did I mention the wedding?
Where I Have Been Part 5
Strange ramblings, and now Jesus is answering callers. And like always, for those of you not up on the info, the callers to this show are very intelligent, but trying and testing. Jesus is getting kind of a little snippy, but he’s holding his own. Not doing too bad a job there…er…Jesus.
{A few days later}
Jesus is over, word world is on for the son, and it’s been a few days.
After the wedding I went home, the long road 154 shucking and jiving, and I thought, what should I do? For the website that is. I create and create, yet I need a zinger or twelve for the book to be any good or the least bit successful. So whats next? What’s the ticket?
After the going home and the sleeping and resting and recuperation, I received a call from a friend that resides in
So, I call up the
The drive down was wonderful and relaxing, and when I got to the buddies in
We arrived about seven minutes past the time that the party was starting and there was one person already there. A sweet girl, she actually checked out the site while she was there and for that I am greatly appreciative. So we sat down, took over the back right side of the place, and the folks wishing birthday greetings began to come one by one, sometimes in twos and threes, for the party to celebrate another year for my friend.
Every person that came through the door was given my shpeel, what the shirts were made of, the weight, the dyes used, all of it. And it was funny, the reactions were always different. Some would kind of settle back and a small smile would play across their faces. The others, they would look slightly perturbed and irritated that they had to deal with this freak in color. Those folks though, I made sure they got it ALL. Because of that angle though, I ended up selling two shirts at the party and got a lot of cards into a lot of hands. They were all gamers, most playing a live action vampire game, called a LARP{Live Action Role Playing} and were there to be able to play the very next day. Which was a disappointment for me as I needed to be gone very early in the morning to make it back for a company picnic with the Fam. So it was hang out and drink for the evening kid of thing, which was fun as I hadn’t done that in quite some time.
Where I Have Been Part 4
I gave both her and her new man a shirt, and then called her for the trip this weekend and sold her a shirt for all her kids. I’m spreading the good love of color all over the place. I’ve outfitted my seventy odd year old parents in the glory, and the rest of the populace is coming along whether they know it or not.
But back to the
Everyone there in
So about this wedding.
We all went over to a place at the harbor and had Mexican food. But before the food, I had rum and cokes, and then had to find other food to be able to bring my head somewhat back to the planetoid I reside on. Then we all ate, and I was whisked away from the party to the confines of a vehicle and the hazy smoke of
That was the complain over the trip to the Ghetto hot spring as well. I’m always leaving.
Which sucks, because I don’t think I can actually help it. I’ve always been in love with the road, and what she shares. The trip to
Where I Have Been Part 3
Was at the fair one year. Took my cute little monkey girl and we walked around all the buildings and weird “C’mere man let me “_____”(fill in thing here)”for ya!” it’s crazy and reminds me of the original bazaar opened on the desert trade routes through the really big deserts in around sixteen hundred A.D. like a really good Swap Meet. Oh ya, Swap meet.
So I’ve been appearing recently at the local Swap Meet. At the drive in. yup. Big assed parking lot and theres the strange gypsy nomadic selling and buying that occurs. It’s a whole trip unto itself.
So there I am. It’s at least
Now this friend got married recently. Was a nice ceremony, and her dress was really beautiful now I love her, and her family. I’ve known her and her sister for years. She, the
Where I Have Been Part 2
I’ve scanned
Re-written entirely
Altered and edited
And generally freaked out. Finished a story the other day I started not long after the birth of my daughter. My eight year old daughter. I walked around all day and rubbed my hair back from the crown of my head and just repeated, over and over again like a mantra these special words. “oh wow.” Rub rub rub. “Oh Wow.” Rub rub rub. It was kinda freaky from the outside I guess. Must have been judging from the looks and sighs and lowering eyebrows of my lovely wifeykins. But hey man, it was freaky on the inside. It was freaky a lot.
By the way, the story? It’s in the book. Also will be in the store. Maybe other places.
So . Here I am. Writing as my favorite show with the guest host, also the live host as well one might say, and he’s interviewing Jesus Christ. Now, hold on a minute, lets not get all flappy and freaky and wigged out. I’m pretty sure, though I could be wrong (maybe), that it’s a guy, whose real good at the question and answer thing. I’m actually amazed at the job their doing. The Jesus, “character” I guess, is quite on it. I’m thinking prearranged questions. If not, it’s REALLY amazing. But I’m going for guy. He’s talking of Judas as if he ad a choice. Interesting that he stated that the scriptures were all correct according to the bible, but according to the Scripture according to Judas, Judas seemed to get the short end of the stick, and knew it. Was asked as far as I know.
Their getting ready to open the lines for the listeners to call in. the questions should be interesting.
Just got back from the ultimate in “Ghetto Soaks” as I’ve quantified it in the grand scheme of things. I’ve been to some really good hot tubs. Some man made, some not. I’ve sat in granite bowls and felt the water trickle down a causeway of about an inch or so as it simultaneously bubbled up through my toes. It takes a two and a half mile walk up to the site and people many time take their stuff, and then strip down and place it all on a waterproof floatation device. They make a raft of their stuff and they take it across the snow melt river that flows next to these granite pools. And when you’ve gotten the maximum angle from the warmth and all, well you jump in that ball chasing to the middle of your neck water and hang out, for just a minute. What your trying to do is judge the right moment, right before hypothermia sets in and you cramp to your death. When that precise moment is reached you leap from that devil water and sink in bliss and tingly extremities into a warm and beautiful soak. The other tubs, as noted and chronicled in my first writing experiment through my eyes, (also in the book. Hmm…I’m seeing a theme here.) were on a trip through
Where I Have Been Part 1
Where I Have Been
In the land of 20/20
I was allowed, the other day, to be able to read the first book, my choosing, that I’ve been able to read for a year. It was “Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and other American Tales”. It was glorious. Something in this century. Amazing.
Well dear readers of this tired, yer energized informer of the truth (not too sure if it’s the truth with the little T or the truth with the big T.) of his existence and freaky nature, it has been too long and for this I apologize.
It’s been crazy in the ridgeorama world what with those pesky schoolings and learnings and brain fillings and luscious painful wanted curse of education that brings through itself a further love of all things written. I’ve been getting educated, and when that was put on hold (one more semester people. just one more.) as it has for this long age of learning and growth, I’ve been busy. Ohhhhhh…I’ve been busy like an evil thing that grows in ones head and festers. until lanced. And maybe it’s like a glorious sunrise after waking in the cool morning light of the mountains, maybe in the sierras. Yes. The sierras it is, tent camping of course. Oh hey! Yosemite. Ya. Yosemite where you get the cool shaded mornings and the ring of granite enclosing and protecting you in the bosom of the actual rock of the earth. Mental note to self, plan vacay for fam.
Well. The books going, as I’ve stated, and I’ve gone off the deep end in creativity. I’m an actual tye-dyer and it’s blowing my mind. At some point this summer a shop may appear quietly in the corner, have no fear. Visit and plan, as one should, on all things tye-dye. I am amazed at the difference when I was trying to be somewhat standard. At least on the colors. But then I unravel them, and they shine like a light taste of sweet cherry, the first of the season, on ones lips and tongue. Absolutely tasty, and after selling them (WHAT FOLLOWS IS THE SHPEEL!!!!! The shirts are six point one ounce cotton fiber shirts, {turn and indicate shoulder stitching} all double stitched along the seams and I use the procion dye{Dharma Trading Co.} dyes that literaly bond with the molecular level of the cotton fabric. I’m waiting on the trials, but so far no wear on the shirts after seven months.) I hope as well to be able to freak out on the published circuit. So far I’ve been writing, and then I wrote, and after all that I put some typing into the word processing program.
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