coastal zone

A wave curls, topples and breaks overhead. I pop out the backside and lie on my back floating in its wake. It's like looking through a fishbowl, I see blue sky above with eucalyptus trees and ocean spray bobbing around the periphery. Two pelicans pass overhead leaving behind a trail of mental-chatter. “Predators of the sea ..I wonder if they can see their prey or do they sense them some other way ..and why can’t I do that ..and why do I always ask the same questions ..?” “Ungrounded” is how my father would answer. “Totally impractical and too childish to even consider.” His voice reminds me to return to the present ..he’s not here now. A swell passes, lifting me in the air as it goes. Now I’m upright and definitely tuned to the present. A wall of water is approaching. I burst into action and try to match its speed. It picks me up and drops me ..the momentum of the fall helping me stay ahead of the break. I may not be able to ride the airwaves ..but I can ride ocean waves like a fish, or a seal, or even better ..like a dolphin! Yeah, a dolphin ..that’s the ticket. They’re always smiling ..disarming looking and fun. Now I don’t care how childish I sound.

transformation cycle

Dr George, professor of ‘lifespan development’, can identify what year you graduated from high school during a 20-minute interview while blindfolded. Clues? Verbal expressions, vocabulary, explanatory-style, values, ideals, etc. “..basically, it’s recognizing what’s in focus and what’s on the periphery of their narrative. Tells you what cohort they belong to.” What’s a cohort ..? “A cohort is a group of people who pass through periods of historical and social change at around the same age. As a result, they experience these events during the same period of development. People who were in their adolescence when 9/11 occurred for example, or those who were coming-of-age while fighting in Iraq. It makes a difference in the way they express themselves and how they explain current events. Their narrative is an interaction between lifespan-development and socio-cultural development.” He says, however, if college was a transformational experience .. they’re not so easily pegged. “It’s a game changer” Why’s that ..? “Because it sets in motion a transformation-cycle that follows them throughout life. Like recurring periods of renewal ..they shed what’s out-of-date and adapt more contemporary elements to their narrative. In other words, they periodically cover their tracks.”

Reading behavior

When I make a conscious effort, I can kind of catch a glimpse of whatever’s going on inside my head that helps me grasp the meaning of what I’m reading and relate it to other things I know about. It may be part of my training, but ..what I’m seeing is not unique to me. It is a process that’s common to everyone. It’s universal. It’s been observed and documented by linguists all over the world. As I read, I’m building an ‘event-chain’. An event-chain is made up of information from prior-sentences, which I get from working-memory, and prior-experience, which I get from long-term memory. When I read about the rebel invasion of Tripoli this week, I immediately built a relatively simple event-chain based on a limited set of events stored in long-term memory. It looked something like this:

However, as I read further ..I discovered this was not the case. The invasion was the result of Kadafi’s own undoing. Now my event-chain looks something like this:

Suddenly NATO air strikes don’t seem quite so important anymore. My first reading was in error. It doesn’t take into account a whole heap of events I didn’t know about. My second event-chain probably doesn’t either. However, I still come away with the feeling that I’m sufficiently informed, which leads me to another observation: I resist yielding to the probability of the unknown, which is always greater than what I can fit into an event-chain. However, an event-chain is about all that I can fit into my pea-brain.

natural born killer

Susan has an adversarial relationship with the natural surroundings we live in. It’s a beast that needs taming. She began ripping out the periwinkle and nasturtiums that covered the slope above the creek. I stopped her before she ripped out the native plants along the banks. Got a stink-eye for that. Then she began planting ‘posies’, which didn’t take but contributed to the sudden death of an oak tree [link]. Next, she decided do have an olive tree removed. Her husband actually cried when he noticed it missing. She claimed the tree-guy must have made a mistake so they took him to court ..and lost. Fewer trees made them more visible from my side of the creek. She felt this was an invasion of privacy and told me about her plans to plant a bamboo ‘wall’ along the property line. “I don’t want people trespassing around here anymore, Bill” she said. What she really meant was “I don’t want you to be able to see us anymore, Bill.” I talked to Dr Jones and he nipped that in the bud (long story). The next three years she spent battling with another neighbor who had built a small stone wall nearby, which I thought fit-in well with the surroundings. It was a vicious battle, which she eventually lost and had to pay somewhere around $250,000 in court cost (hers and theirs). It fouled the atmosphere enough to where the neighbor moved out ..which Susan considered a victory [link]. Now she’s looking in my direction again and plans to build an extension of the former neighbors’ wall along our property line. However, she wants to build it higher so it’ll act as a retaining wall and she can create a level yard out of the slope. I mentioned what a major feat of engineering that would be and this time I got the evil-eye. I quickly walked over to see Dr Jones who monitors building permits. If she starts building without a permit, the City will stop her. If she applies for a permit, Dr Jones and the other residents will counter and the City will nip that in the bud as well. Then I’m afraid I’ll see her sitting across the creek, in an Adirondack chair, staring at me with a blunderbuss on her lap.

Charlie

Sitting on the deck sharing a bowl with Charlie. I’ve always felt safe doing this even though I don’t have a medical marijuana card. My neighbors aren’t that close, and besides ..they’re pretty cool. I haven’t met the new neighbors across the creek yet. When I mention this to Charlie ..he freaks. Now he’s imagining a surveillance operation and starts outlining a plan in the almost-certain event that they start to move in on us. “We can hurdle a wall or two ..carjack Richard’s SUV ..drive to the harbor ..commandeer a boat ..sail out into the channel ..then head for open seas. It should work.” “Why would they have us under surveillance, Charles?” He looks at me in disbelief and explains how it’s not uncommon for con men to infiltrate the police department to enrich themselves by taking advantage of asset-forfeiture laws. While I don’t disagree about asset-forfeiture laws ..I tell him I think it’s a bit of a stretch in my case. Now he’s looking at me like you would a naïve child. “Bill, you really outta’ get a medical marijuana card ..save us both a lot of aggravation.” I’m not the one who’s aggravated, but I don’t say anything. Charlie’s not just a conspiracy theorist ..he’s a true believer ..and he’s definitely one to act on his beliefs. Paranoia has always been his default response.

Coastal zone

The ocean is olive-green with a soft silvery glow where the sun is absorbed (not reflected) by the surface. There’s a strong northwest swell but mostly small mushy waves. So I’m swimming just outside them. I run into Barb on the beach where she’s preparing for her regular swim out to the shipping lanes. I sit with Joanne and her son Ryan and share a couple mouthfuls of sushi rolled in seaweed. Ryan is 6-years old and just finished surf-camp. He likes to tell people he’s part Cherokee. He already looks like a California surfer with thick blond hair, dusty tan and cool Oakley shades. He goes and grabs his boogie board and I take him out and launch him on the waves. He rides them into shore and quickly paddles back into position ..where I launch him again. Says he likes the feeling of bobbing up and down in the water. “So do I ..” I tell him.

clearlessness

I wipe off the lenses of my senses. Sure enough, there’s a multilevel interchange of butterflies zipping around the creek. Birds eat olives from the trees on the other side and spit them out on the deck ..and me. More ingenious ones drop hard breadcrumbs into a bird-feeder so they’ll be soft enough to eat. My neighbor Don is following orders from his wife and clearing the back-forty. I’m sitting here trying to make sense of the news. A feeling of frustration is gnawing at me ..not sure where it’s coming from. Possibly the remnants of yesterdays’ fiasco. The radio operators in the canyon are disrupting wireless connections and pissing off the notebook PC operators. I don’t see a ‘civil’ solution. Hoping there’s a technical solution that’s just not apparent to me. My brain feels as small as a pea this morning.

Katy Perry

I finish running and climbing the steps at the HS football stadium. It’s almost sunset. I can hear Katy Perry at the bowl singing loud and clear. I climb the last set of steps, catch my breath while walking down a passageway ..and run into Alex and Jose. We sit in the stands and share some herb. They’re compañeros from the local Hispanic community who haven’t heard anything by Katy Perry before, unless it was by accident ..like tonight. They’re just hanging out. Occasionally they hear a tune they recognize ..only because it’s by somebody else. They are Snoop Dog fans. To me she sounds like a cheerleader at high amplitude ..but I’m really too stoned to say. I’m just gonna’ enjoy. Jose tells me it’s strong stuff. They can’t believe how long I hold it in for. Turns out Alex and Jose are eighteen, recent graduates of the high school ..and the only time that they ever leave the East side is to go fishing on the wharf. They say they’ve heard of ‘Goleta pier’ and might go looking for it some day. They’re not sure which direction it’s in. I tell them it’s north of here and that they might want to checkout the pier at Refugio too. “Wherezzat ..?” “Farther north ..” but I might have well said “ ..on the moon.” I remind myself that these kids occupy a shorter space-time narrative (God am I stoned). Now I’m being extra careful not to sound snobbish. I do suggest that they get out more. “Oh yeah ..like, where, man ..?” Head north ..like San Luis Obispo. Jose says he’s heard of it. I tell them there are youth hostels along the coast highway where they can stay really cheap. They go “yeah ..where at, man ..?” I’m about to suggest they try Googling it but stop when I realize how pointess that’d be. They already told me they don’t have Internet. I almost asked them for their email addresses too. I’m really stoned and having difficulty shifting perspectives. I can’t think of anything to say that might work so I write down the words ‘youth hostel’ on a cup and tell them to ask around ..the way I used to find things out when I was their age.

Cyber space junkies

The Internet extends the information-processing capability of the brain. Like having remote sensors, we’re presented with images of events and people streaming-in from all corners of the globe at a much faster clip. The Internet puts previews of coming attractions in front of you like never before with a wider range of unfiltered choices to select from. If you want freedom of choice ..you got it in spades. If making choices is difficult, it’s like drinking water from a fire-hose. But if you’re an information-junkie like me ..you feel like a kid in a candy store. Cyberspace is a simulation of our social sphere ..it portrays an exchange of people, information and ideas. It is also an extension of the ego ..it reflects our efforts at impression-formation. It has the ability to re-enact prior exchanges .. like the ruminating part of the brain. However, when it performs this act ..it does so in front of a large audience. Helps not to be squeamish about getting your lines wrong.

Dr Gene

Dr Gene tells me that the U.S. debt-debate is a red-herring. “It’s a distraction from what’s really happening to the economy,” he says. “The S&P didn’t downgrade our credit rating because of the level of the debt ..it was in response to political gridlock. We’ve had federal deficits throughout history ..especially during wartime ..and the markets didn’t suffer because of it.” He believes that the debt-level is modest and probably even necessary given current economic conditions. So, what’s the problem..? “I believe it’s really bad timing on the part of republicans to be asserting political ideology right now ..that and the President failing to assert his powers of office. He could have easily raised the federal debt in time to meet it’s obligations. The 14th amendment allows him to do that without approval from congress. You see. Bill ..it’s not the size of the debt, it’s the government not making payment on the debt that shakes up foreign investors, S&P and the folks on Wall Street.”

New tune

Sovereignty for sale

They say the worst thing you can do in an economic crises is panic. However, it’s kinda’ hard not to when I’m sitting here with a sliding sensation in my gut, like the wheels of my car have lost traction on an icy road. Only I’m not in a car, I’m sitting at my desk. They say that the world’s largest communist country, China, has now become the world’s biggest creditor. This, in turn, gives them the right to demand the U.S. surrender it’s military and social programs that are putting the value of their biggest asset at risk .. U.S. Treasury bonds and other dollar-backed securities. I think it’s time for me to make an appointment to see Dr. Gene.

a wheel inside a wheel

I’m walking over to the high-school athletic fields nearby when I run into my neighbor Ron. I say hello how are you and stuff, and he says “fine ..the same old thing as yesterday and the day before. ” I detect a hint of discontent. My first reaction is to try and counter this by suggesting it’s something we all have in common. “Well then, I’m catching you at a moment when I, too, am doing the same old thing as yesterday and the day before.” He shakes his head in agreement (?) ..which looks more like weariness. I figure there must be something else going on and tell myself not to counter whatever that might be. Neither of us really have time to talk right now, so I just go “You know Ron, it’s alright ..the world is a cycle.” He looks at me while taking a hit off his cigarette. I don’t know why, but I’ve got this urge to continue. “I’m following a cycle of going to the track, which means running in circles, which are made up of tiny cycles of intense respiration” I laugh and go “if my senses didn’t re-cycle themselves periodically ..I’d experience white-out.” Now he’s walking away, looking at me out of the corner of his eye and going “yeah, right ..” like he’s heard that one before. Now I’m wondering if I didn’t just repeat a cycle of bullshit that I mistake for reassurance ..but is really the start of another cycle of avoidance. Oh well oh well, I go, thinking ..at least I don’t have a nicotine cycle to worry about, which triggers a whole new cycle of rationalizations.

Cameron Diaz

“The role Cameron Diaz plays as a pot-smoking slacker in the movie Bad Teacher ..is not a sign of progress for women but a mark of devolution of the broader culture.” LATimes [link]

For me, it’s comments like this that confirm just how subjective entertainment really is. Although I can go on for hours talking about entertainers I like and those I don’t particularly care much for ..I really can’t analyze it. What makes a movie character funny is the way they resonate with audience members in the moment, and certainly not what university professors think based on standards set by the feminist movement of the 1960’s. What lent this review any degree of fairness, and saved it from becoming a heavy-handed and biased treatment of the merits of Cameron Diaz’s choice of roles ..were the comments made by Lisa Lampanelli “Within 20 years it’ll be ..that’s just a comic, not a guy or a girl, or a gay guy or a black guy, just a funny person.” I, too, look forward to the day when I can laugh at a comic without concern for someone else’s gender-defined, role-appropriate sensibilities.

Uummannaq