Hwy 101

I’ve always been fascinated by the shortcomings of judgment ..especially my own. One of my favorites is the way I read critical intentions into the innocent things other people say. The other day my dad tells me that he cannot conceive of the way I keep a journal ~ and it sounds to me like he’s saying that he doesn’t approve of the way I keep a journal ~ which makes me feel like it's a frivolous waste of time. I’m also pretty good at slowing down the learning process. This happens when I hear something new and immediately search memory for something that, on the surface, sounds familiar and allows me to say: “I already knew that.” For example, world trade ..? “that's been around since the days of Christopher Columbus” ..and I don't stop and consider the implications for today. Studies have shown that the ability to form new memories depends on the surprise-value of information. This tends to favor young people because the stuff they hear is still relatively new and surprising. However, once the novelty wears off ..receptivity diminishes and retention suffers. So, I figure the best way to keep a healthy memory is by trying to re-capture the days of my youth ~ see things fresh ~ and allow myself to be surprised more often. Oh no, wait ..that’s my rationalization for not acting like an adult more often.

Fire update

Helicopters routinely hover then pass. Still smells like someone had a campfire in my backyard. Mark and Amanda are home after spending the week in Santa Cruz ..she’s expecting and didn’t want to share the air she was inhaling around here. It’s all right now .. our homes were spared. It’s been a hectic week though .. I had roommates who were made homeless by the fire. They’re taken care of .. I’m surprised how quickly that went. They told me that insurance companies subscribe to the ‘broken window’ theory of economics (?) .. the faster they get a neighborhood restored .. the fewer claims they get for theft and vandalism later. I can already hear the sound of hammers pounding ..and a new cycle of teardown and regrowth begins (my way of putting it philosophically).

Tea fire

The sun is setting and you can find me where I usually am during a Santa Ana ..swimming in the ocean. I drive home with the top down through warm night air ..I notice that traffic is a little heavier than usual ..so I take an alternate route ..oblivious. I’m sitting at my laptop when the power goes off ..and switches me to battery. I save what I’m doing and shut down ..still oblivious. I look out the window and it’s pitch black ..too black. I smell what I think is smoke coming from my neighbor’s chimney. I grab a flashlight .. go upstairs and look out my bedroom window. Smoke has blotted out the moon ..and the surrounding hilltops are glowing red. I’m not oblivious anymore. It’s a fire. I run out and see Dr Jones. He tells me that Sycamore Canyon is burning ..and the fire is moving up the side fast. We’re in the canyon next door so, if it jumps the ridge ..we’re toast. From a canyon you don’t get a good perspective so we head over to the high school football stadium to get a bigger picture. I’m sickened by what I see. Smoke is pouring over the top of the range and, behind it, there’s a scarlet red glow stretching all the way from the mountains to the sea. Other people are arriving ..one couple already lost their home ..a camera crew sets up and we’re getting first hand reports. Sycamore canyon, Rattlesnake canyon and East Mountain are in flames ..less that a mile as the crow flies. I tell Dr Jones I’m not going to panic until I see flames burning on top of the ridge. I hear people going ‘ohhhh woooow' and I see flames shooting up from the top of the ridge ..trees combust ..and homes explode. Fire trickles down our side like lava. Someone hollers they’re evacuating anyone living around the bowl. Dr Jones and I head back. Now smoke is pouring out of the canyon where we live ..I feel another wave of panic. His wife is passing out wet towels. I wrap one around my face ..cinders fly ..helicopters circle ..a horse comes running out of nowhere and bolts onto Anapamu Street. Police block traffic and the owner corrals it. Bullhorns give evacuation orders. My eyes are burning and I’m throwing shit in my car. I move it out to Anapamu for a quick get away ..but police shout at me when I try to come back. I go around them by walking up the creek bed. I sit and water my roof until 2:00 am .. firefighters have battled the blaze to a halt just above us. I collapse to my knees in gratitude and pass out on a deck chair.

heineken green

The water changed dramatically overnight ..now it’s sub-zero freezing and beer-bottle green ..the color of a Heineken. Knocks the wind out of me. Eddie says arctic currents must’ve arrived and replaced the warm water that was here yesterday ..probably run-off from a melting iceberg. Lenny laughs and goes: “that means it ain’t no Heineken brahh ..it’s downstream beer.” Then Barb points at her watch and goes: “It’s November 7th guys ..you ought to be bringing wetsuits and fins with you ..that way it won’t matter what kinda’ beer.” We all agree she’s gotta good point. We go for a swim at sunset. The rays hit the water like stained glass ..adding scarlet and pink to a deeper shade of Heineken green ..the sky is a color that no one has a name for.

offshore condition

The water is much warmer and calmer than yesterday ..it’s also beer-bottle brown. Eddie says it’s like red tide only with a different kind of microorganism. He doesn’t remember which. I wonder if he ever really knew. I’m in the water way past sunset because I haven’t got sense enough to get out ~ and now the air's like way too cold. Barb swims by and asks me where my fins are ..again. I try to explain that I wear them only when, like uh .. “like never” she interjects .. and I go: “no, more like on wavier days” ~ but now that's like, beside the point. “You’re never gonna catch me without them” she says ~ and jets out of sight wearing some pretty serious diving fins ~ I hear her laughter fading as she goes. I do a few more backstrokes and head into shore ~ where I run into a dog that looks exactly like Andy, when Andy was just a couple months old, and I’m like: “Oh my god, Andy you shrunk.” I’m sitting there while he licks the salt off of my hands and face. When his human arrives, I tell him how much I love Airedales ~ and he tells me that’s not an Airedale ..it’s a Welsh Terrier ~ fully grown. I’m like: “Whooaah, no way ..!!” and he’s laughing and saying: “Yeah, he’s six years old” and I’m like, wow, looks like a miniature version of my own dog. I go on to tell him how smart I think they are ~ and he goes: “ mmm, not this one ..he’s dumber'n a mule ..we just got him from the pound.” Give him time ..I say, give him time (because I seriously believe Andy is one of the smartest species on the planet).

Niece Karla and Andy

A new day

There’s an offshore flow ~ I top-off my water bottle ~ grab a towel ~ forget my wetsuit ~ and shoot down Milpas ~ Hendrix blaring. I cut through a construction site ~ drive a mile down Hwy 101 (the reason I do this is another story) ~ get off on Olive Mill ~ and cruise the shoreline ~ it's crystal. I sit on the sand ~ take some deep breaths ~ and venture into the surf. My legs go numb ~ reminding me of the wetsuit I left behind. I dive into an oncoming wave ~ shoot out the other side ~ roll on my back and float ~ looking up at the sky through the elliptical scope of my eyes. My brain freezes. I see Robert in the distance and shout ~ asking him why he’s not skim boarding ~ he shouts back saying there were dolphins out here like ten minutes ago ~ he wanted to get a closer look. Once you’re in ~ you don’t want to get out. The sunset turns the sky bright orange ~ Robert tells me to turn around ~ behind me the sky is like ultra-violet. The water is smooth ~ flowing cohesion ~ I feel calm ~ a sense of renewal washes over me ~ I think back to yesterday ~ and the peaceful revolution we had ~ I salute everyone for a job well done.