352/365

we are driving a few miles
out of our way to see the bridge
that was in natural born killers.
somewhere in new mexico
on the way to taos with laura
and her friends from mills
playing korn and discussing
second wave feminism while
i drink beers in the back,
blowing smoke out the window-
something takes a part of me
something lost and never seen-
on our way to a rainbow gathering.

her septum: pierced.
my hair: monthold bleach job.
hair on their legs and pits.
is that bobby mcgee on the radio?
you know feelin' good
was good enough for me.

we’ll spend
a few days
sharing a tent
in the foothills
holding hands in large circles,
campfires like ewok villages,
naked folk on horseback,
drums and guitars,
flowers and patchouli.  

can’t remember—
how
where
when
why
i was asked
to tag along,

laying there
under the stars
absolutely certain
that dropping my classes
at the college of marin
was the single best decision
of my life up to that point.

can't they chill
and let me be free?
freedom's just another word
for nothin' left to lose:

all songs blur into one
on a constant loop
echoing through time.

audible
even now.
in the quiet.

Short One

This is a short one. Not much thinking today and it was pretty low key:


Woke up and went to the Bellingham Farmers’ market. I have been here long enough to say it was “so Bellingham.” The was a Mumford and Son’s look-a-like band complete with bowler hats and mutton chops. There was the girl with dreads from some farm selling her greens and I bought a sweet orange artist's T-shirt.


After that some lunch, a Tofu Reuben with squash and habanero soup. This is my kind of town with the veggie options.


Then some down time, good bye to Mary Jo and Patrick and a music blasting, sunset on Mt. Rainier drive to the airport to get Ari.


Arrived home after midnight to a beer and some cold pizza. Tomorrow starts another week in the USA. Looking forward to a visit with Risa and Keith. Till then. Sleep

Bend, Oregon

Today feels like a week. It feels like we have crossed several countries, but it was just eight hours and two states. The morning started in a fog soaked drive from Garbervillie down into Eureka and Crescent City. Just outside of Orick we saw some elk and then the sun crept in and turned the redwoods into the greatest church I have ever seen. I tried to capture some photos, but they were nothing compared to the smell, site and feel of the sun rays as they burst through the branches and needles.


Those few minutes by the road, will go down as one of my favorite memories. I just hope that they are as special to the girls. The ride was breathtaking. The California coast and then into the mountain forests of Oregon.


We drove and drove and drove until we finally descended into central Oregon and eventually Bend. The girls were amazing in the car and have been pretty spectacular on this trip.


I have been sneezing since I woke up, so Bend has caught me a little off guard. Our house here is sweet and beautiful located a few blocks from the river, a playground and several brew pubs, each one more hip and cool then the next. Not sure if our 40+ family rolling in is the scene, but I got a beard and a Fargo T-shirt, so what do I care.


We cruised the river to get our bearings and stumbled upon a Widespread Panic show we didn’t have tickets or the energy for. Hippies everywhere selling jewelry and coconut water and the smell of…. Oregon…in the air. Ahhh... to be home.


This is a town I think I am going to like. At the moment, we are in the house, nursing these sinuses and a few beers. Tomorrow is fourth of July, so things will be crazy, but I am excited to cruise this place for a few days after that. There is a hot tub in our back yard. The sun is hot, the people seem kind and I am on vacation with nothing to do but soak it all up.


After driving through some small towns replete with gun shops and more church than I would like to mention, Bend, Oregon is the America I know and love. So excited to spend her birthday here.

Dropping

You take the picture, on the bridge, on that spot with your family with all the other people taking pictures with their families on the bridge, in that spot, because you want to stop that moment in time and shout that you are alive and happy and in that spot on that bridge with all those people who are happy and alive and you want to stop that moment and freeze it and hold it even for a second and cherish it.


You will save it and share it and look at it several times later in the day and marvel at how bright the blues are and how wide the smiles are and how real the moment looks, frozen, even now hours later. Your friends will like it and you will like that they like it because their liking it proves that it was a valuable and precious moment, but you knew that already.


You actually don’t need their likes, although the likes feel validating; you don’t even really need the photo, although it feels good to spend time with it later in the day, hours after it is taken, all you really need is that moment, the second that you are all standing their on the bridge, in that spot with your family frozen, posing waiting to acknowledge the beauty of the single second right before you push the tiny white button on your phone.


You are alive and together and happy. The photograph is just a cheap attempt at capturing these emotions- in pixels and time and likes.


…


We were headed to the Marin Headlands today with the kids, so I started to educate Kaia on the purpose of the bunkers. I told her a bit about WWII and the Japanese. We spoke about the potential attack. Their aggression in the Pacific and the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor. We talked a bit about the fear that must have over taken San Francisco and the construction of fortress we were about to visit. The conversation quickly moved on to the end of the war and the dropping of the two nuclear bombs in Japan. She looked horrified that the country she has recently taken so much pride in, the very one she felt was the victim just minutes before was now responsible for massive civilian deaths and the burning of two entire cities. We walked on in silence through a tunnel, until she finally said, “There has to be better ways to solve conflict than wars.” You would think. I thought. You would think.


…


On the way back to the car we passed through a tunnel and on the wall there was some graffiti that said, “Drop Acid.” Of course she asked what it meant. Here is a recap of my answer:


Well back in the 1960’s San Francisco was famous for being the home for people who didn’t fit in anywhere else. There was a group of people called hippies. You know the people with long hair and tie-dye shirts, anyway, people from all over the country came to San Francisco to be themselves and to be free. They did different kinds of drugs and one was called acid. It changed their brains and made them think in different ways. They could smell colors and see and think about things that a normal brain simply could not do.


“That sounds scary to mess with your brain so you feel crazy.”


Well it wasn’t always crazy. Sometimes it allowed them to create art that no one had ever thought of, or to create music that was new and fresh. Take The Beatles for example- their entire sound and style changed after doing this drug.


Silence. “So you drop it? What does that mean?”


It just means that you take it, but you don’t have to worry about that now. Just be thankful that San Francisco is a place for freaks and weirdos and people seeking to be free. It’s where daddy lived and grew up and so you will always have a connection to this area. It is your home too.