Bex

Bexi’s grades tanked ~ her sophomore year is over and she’s sitting slouched and expressionless ~ she says she feels ‘a bit off’ ~ her mother says she doesn’t know what to do ~ she tried taking her to the hospital (?) ~ but the hospital said they needed family therapy ~ family therapy wound up causing more grief ~ mainly because her mum had to take time off of work ~ which I’m sure made Bexi feel even worse ~ probably why she’s feeling ‘a bit off’ ~ I suppose I would feel the same way ~ her mother is talking, but I tune her out and focus gently on Bexi ~ I sense discomfort ~ she doesn’t like attention ~ now I sense a shift ~ she’s pissed ~ her mum is talking about all of those ‘private family matters’ Bexi brought up during counseling ~ and how she really ripped into her for it afterwards ~ so now I think that ‘counseling’ must sound more like ‘punishment’ to Bexi ~ and her mother is using it as a threat ~ funny, in my day it was reform school.

Her self-portrait ~ submitted with permission

Fire on the mountain

My sanctuary is under fire ~ and if the wind changes direction ~ it’ll be toast. Tassajara is a Zen monastery located in the Big Sur wilderness ~ 14 miles from the nearest paved road ~ and surrounded by the Los Padres National Forest ~ which is on fire right now. I’ve been receiving messages over the Internet from people who live nearby. Apparently evacuation orders were issued ~ but the monks chose to stay ~ setting up barricades ~ and a sprinkler system ~ among other things. So, the local sheriff asked them to provide the names of their dentist ~ for identification ~ and a team of firefighters has taken up residence ~ being fed in the monastery kitchen ~ mainly rice and vegetables. Although Buddhist monks are known for self-sacrifice ~ they’re no fools ~ if things get too dangerous they’re going to bail alongside the firefighters ~ none of them wants to risk their life to save a building ~ that’s not where they’re at. Nevertheless, my heart grieves ~ admittedly for the loss that I may suffer ~ but also for the residents of Big Sur who have already lost their homes. One person I heard from says that my other sanctuary ~ the Esalen Institute ~ is safe for now ~ even so ~ they’ve been ordered to evacuate as well.

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Photo courtesy of ZenCenter

Big Sur Wilderness

Brandi Carlile

I went to the Lobero Theater today where I saw Brandi Carlile and Priscilla Ahn ~ a couple of indie folk artists who, I must say, blew me away ~ in fact, I can’t remember the last time I was so entranced by an opening act ~ Priscilla sings like an angel ~ no, more like a choir of angels (she knows how to use the wee-petal so it really does sound like a choir) ~ her songs are smart and funny and made us laugh a lot ~ Brandi wails and brings everyone to their feet ~ how often can you say that about a folk singer ~ I guess you can say that a lot these days ~ I see so many female artists who can play unplugged like Joan Baez ~ perform country music like Johnny Cash ~ and rock ‘n roll like Melissa Etheridge ~ now maybe I live in a shell and haven’t been aware of it ~ but it sounds to me like female artists are finding their voice in just about every type of music today ~ folk, country, rock, metal, goth ~ and some are creating their own style ~ man, I salute them all. There’s something else I can’t help noticing ~ a pleasant but unfamiliar fragrance around me ~ it’s kind of soapy ~ not like dial or ivory soap or anything like that ~ more like something you get at a spa or salon.

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Solstice

I drag my tired ass outta bed ~ pop a couple vitamin C and chase them with coffee ~ reminding myself that this is not the best way to absorb them ~ I trudge down to the parade route ~ planning to catch the tail end and follow it to the festival at the park ~ a plop my ass down on the curb and watch the parade pass ~ I see Arabian belly dancers ~ King Neptune and his mermaids ~ Egyptian pharaohs ~ contortionists ~ acrobats ~ Swedish campers wearing only backpacks and hiking boots ~ Ojai girl riding a bike ~ wearing only pasties ~ children chasing bubbles blowing out the back of a float ~ and it dawns on me ~ this isn’t the tail-end ~ it’s somewhere near the middle ~ which suits me fine ~ I haven’t been keeping track of time ~ particles of shimmering colors rain down from the sky ~ and I’m mesmerized. After the grand finale I duck into Starbucks ~ it’s like 100° out ~ and the humidity is like 100% too ~ so, I figure I’ll sit here and conserve energy (and fluid). When I arrive at the park I see a swirling mass of multi-colored humanity ~ I plunge in and collapse under a tree ~ the drummers are drumming but there’s no one dancing ~ I sit up and see everyone passed out ~ I’m drenched in sweat ~ which mixes with sunscreen ~ and goes into my eyes ~ burning like hell ~ I flush them with bottled water ~ do some deep breathing exercises ~ feel hot air burning my lungs ~ and still see no one dancing ~ someone passes me some herb ~ which makes my lungs burn even more ~ sweat and sunscreen continue to fall into my eyes ~ I’m parched and blind but too stoned to get up and look for water ~ or anything else that may refresh ~ Laura is going to meet me here but I’m wondering how long I’m gonna last ~ when a beer vendor drops off several bags of ice in front of me.

Betrayal

My father made me a promise ..he said that he was prepared to help pay the cost of my stepdaughter’s college education ..just like he was prepared to do for all of his grandchildren. He even told me that he considered Vanessa to be like a granddaughter to him. You cannot imagine the joy I felt ..for the first time I felt like I was part of a family.

Vanessa completed Santa Barbara City College with honors. Her artwork was exhibited in shows and museums both on campus and around the community. I felt proud at each award ceremony I attended in her honor. I encouraged her to pursue her dreams ..cost was no object. She was admitted to the prestigious Art Center College of Design in Pasadena. I was thrilled ..all the major companies hire talent from there. I had no doubt Vanessa would be successful.

That’s when my father withdrew his offer. He told me it was ‘unreasonable’ to expect him to pay for her college education. Now he felt like she was taking advantage of him and swore he wouldn’t pay her a dime ..after all, nobody helped put him through school. I felt sunk. This was a deal he made with me. Vanessa wasn’t counting on him for anything ..in fact, she was already applying for grants and scholarships. No, it wasn’t her that he was refusing to help ..it was me.

What's that smell

Joe is helping me repair the deck ~ we’re replacing boards ~ pounding nails ~ and I’m hammering dimples into whatever good wood is left. We sealed it with some kind of new preservative I’ve never heard of ~ it’s environmentally friendly ~ which means it cures by sunlight ~ and takes forever to dry. This morning I can really smell it ~ I open the window and I’m like ~ uh oh ..I had no idea it was gonna smell like this ~ it’s not bad ~ I mean, to me ..it smells like a redwood forest ~ a really pungent redwood forest ~ later on I find out that it only smells that way to me because I associate it with my redwood deck ~ to my neighbor Cezar, it smells like an electrical fire ~ which I suspect is because he’s around sound equipment all the time ~ I apologize and tell him I had no idea it was gonna smell that way ~ and he’s like “no problémo, dude” ~ he says when he discovered it wasn't a fire ~ he calmed down and felt better ~ I ask Joe what he thinks it smells like ~ and he says fiberglass ~ and I’m thinking surfboards ~ so now I’m afraid to ask my plumber Arturo what he thinks.

Social anxiety

I’m rushing around trying to prepare stuff for UPS ~ and meet some friends later for sushi ~ I’m ready to go when I discover my car has a flat ~ and I’m running out of time ~ OK OK OK ~ I tell myself ~ not to worry ~ I’ll call someone and get a ride to UPS ~ or blow-off UPS and go straight to the sushi place ~ and really piss-off Dave who’s in Big Sur waiting for this stuff ~ either way I still have a flat tire to deal with ~ so, I put on a pair of overalls and figure I’ll see how much time is left when I’m through ~ I’m jumping up and down on the jack-handle because someone fastened the lug nuts with an hydraulic wrench ~ I finish without having to call AAA ~ but I stink ~ so I freshen up in the sink ~ the tire looks like it was sliced with a shiv ~ and I see images of pissed-off road-warriors chasing me down the highway ~ I put ‘new Pirelli’s’ on the list ~ arrive at UPS on time ~ and walk over to Arigato Sushi ~ Matt tells me that Portland has replaced Eugene as the place to be ~ he’s leaving tomorrow ~ and I feel a sudden sense of dread come over me when I realize I’m supposed to go there and meet Vanessa and Dustin ~ only I’m not sure when ~ so, I blurt out: “Take me with you ..!!” but he doesn’t have enough room ~ he’s got children, dogs, and supplies to last thru summer ~ and I tell myself ~ OK OK OK ~ stay cool ~ hang out here for a while ~ but afterwards ~ drive home like a maniac ~ go immediately online and start checking airfares. Either that or grab Matt’s cell phone and do it from in here.

Shocking

Not many people I know are comfortable talking to their kids about sex ..it makes them feel squeamish ..so they want the government to do it ..by censoring the media. That way, they tell me, their kids won’t get the ‘wrong idea’. Some still complain about how uncomfortable they felt watching television the day Janet Jackson revealed her breast. They said it was obscene, shocking and distasteful. After that, the FCC ..on orders from the Attorney General ..jacked-up the fine for anything considered ‘offensive’ from $25,000 to $450,000. This frightened TV broadcasters so badly that I often hear the expression ‘Goddamn’ bleeped out of movies on TV ..like Raiders of the Lost Ark ..where ‘Marion Ravenwood’ says to Indiana Jones: “..until I get back my five thousand dollars back, you're gonna get more than you bargained for ..I'm your *bleep bleep* partner”. I’m sorry but I don’t think ‘discomfort’ ..or even ‘distasteful’ means ‘obscene’. What it does seem to mean is hypocrisy and bullshit.

There’s a trial going on in federal court here in LA where an adult filmmaker is charged with distributing obscene material. It’s the first one in Southern California since Christian conservatives lobbied the Bush administration to crack down on this kind of thing. The jurors in this case are supposed to define ‘what’s obscene’. Prosecutors were planning to subject them to hour after hour of sexually explicit videos ..hoping to win ..and give the federal government the authority to set standards for entertainment across the land.

That is ..until they discovered the judge hearing this case was putting the same kind of material on his website. That’s when the hypocrisy and bullshit began to fly. First, the judge blames his son for putting it there ..then a fellow U.S. judge defends him by saying the only mistake he made was getting caught ..then another federal judge steps in and says it’s only wrong if he intended to share it with others ..then the original judge claims it is not ‘officially obscene’ ..but later says he must’ve uploaded the ‘obscene’ material by accident ..while trying to upload something wholesome ..he goes on to show how that can happen ..as if we didn’t already know ..or haven’t used that excuse ourselves.

My issue is not with the judge or his website. It’s with the parents, ministers and federal court judges who cannot engage in an honest dialog about sex ~ because the subject makes them feel ‘squeamish’. I guess my point is ..I don’t want squeamishness to be the basis for censorship. I believe we are all responsible for what goes on in our head. Better that we see things in a knowing and healthy manner than cover it up and feel shocked all the time.

Indy

A moment of lucidity ~ I’m enjoying the new Indiana Jones movie ~ but have to keep reminding myself what he’s after ~ crystal skulls ~ real-world entities that, according to legend, were made by the hands of other-world beings ~ beings who visited earth, before Columbus, and were worshipped as gods by the early Mayans ~ the skulls are said to have mystical properties that could put us in contact with their creators ~ I repeat this to stay grounded ~ and bring context and coherence to this high-speed adventure. It’s really spectacular. Afterwards, I ask my friend’s 10-year-old daughter if she caught the part where they reveal the meaning of the skulls ~ “uh, kinda” she says ~ “I like the part where they were flying through the jungle and sword fighting.” ~ You got it ..I tell her.

Language of squirrels

The Senate Intelligence Committee just released a report titled: ‘how the fuck did we get here’ or ‘what did Bush know and when did he know it.’ Most people think it’s a waste of time and I have to agree ..it’s like beating a dead horse. But, if you listen closely ..it reveals something about human nature ~ how susceptible we are to deceptive speech. It also supports my theory that the mind is a story-making device ..in the absence of substantial information ..it makes up shit (anyone interested in where this shit comes from ..click here ~~>theory). Although there was no Intelligence information to support it, President Bush continually implies a link between Hussein and 9/11.

“After September 11th, we’ve entered into a new era and a new war ..and Saddam Hussein is a man that we know has had connections with Al Qaeda.”

“Secretly, and without fingerprints, Hussein could provide his hidden weapons to terrorists, or help them develop their own.”

I have to give Bush credit ..although he implies these connections ..he never comes right out and makes them. He relies on his listeners to do that ..which they did ..a Washington Post survey found that over two-thirds (69%) of Americans believe they heard Bush say Saddam Hussein was behind the attacks of September 11. I also admire the way he squirreled out of it later by having Condoleezza Rice go on ABC’s Nightline and say: “We never claimed that Saddam Hussein had either direction or control of 9/11.”

More Victors

In my estimation, there are probably thousands more soldiers, like Victor, returning from Iraq with mental conditions that are too subtle to detect without long-term evaluation. I know that when the brain takes a hit ..the first thing to go is attention. The second is impulse-control. It looks to me like these two things are causing Victor’s problems. Much of the surface area of the brain is dedicated to reducing ‘out-of-scope’ activity ..allowing us to focus, and act, on what’s relevant. Anything that impairs this action can leave us open to signals that disrupt conscious experience. This may account for the way Victor misperceives his parents, cars and carbonation. Symptoms like these may not appear for months after a soldier returns home. What often brings them to the attention of health care providers are complaints from family and friends who say they are no longer following the ‘script’ of the wholesome teenager they once knew ..growing up in the sheltered community of Santa Barbara. Or, worse ..they’re not following the script of the ‘noble young man’ returning from war ..which is complete bullshit because there’s nothing in the background of a teenager growing up in Santa Barbara ..or Nebraska for that matter ..that will ever prepare them to counter the horrors of war and it’s aftermath. The long-term consequences of our policies in Iraq ..and the ‘stop-gap’ policy of recruitment ..will be felt by this generation of Americans for a long time to come.

Victor's war

Victor returned from Iraq last fall after suffering a ‘head trauma’. He was knocked unconscious by the shock of a roadside bomb while on patrol. At first he seemed OK ..just a ruptured eardrum and a little blurring in his left eye. His parents were relieved. He was an honors student in high school. However, after returning to college ..he couldn’t keep up with his studies. He claims he can’t remember a thing he reads. But tests found that he’s not having problems remembering ..he’s having problems concentrating. He can’t tune-in long enough to finish a sentence without being distracted ..either by noise from another room ..or conversations he had earlier that day. He’s acquired some form of adult ADD. He’s also having problems at home. He used to be a pretty easy-going guy ..but now he ‘flies off the handle’ easily. He can’t even tolerate his parents asking him how his day went ..sounds like an interrogation ..so he’s doesn’t answer anymore. He quit going to school ..and won’t go anywhere by car ..he says it looks like other drivers are trying to ram him. He also avoids beer and other carbonated beverages because the fizzy noise they make sounds like bullets whizzing by. He’s getting more heavily into drugs.

Foggy forest

A forest somewhere in the Pacific Northwest ~ sent by a friend