Cold mountain journal

Arctic air blows over my deck ..making my fingers stiff and hard to write with. South of here, by the Mexican border, where it’s warmer, we're building fences. Shouldn't we be building bridges ..? I mean, Eastern philosophers say that connection is more natural than separation ..and I believe it. The wisdom of a group is greater than the sum of the individuals ..when information is free ..collaboration is key ..synergy and integration is what’s called for. My heart is stuck in a sad state these days ..it’ll pass, I know ..I think too many rude shocks and let-downs put it there ..no one really cares ..I know people have worries that are worse than mine. Rooftops, treetops and mountaintops ..math tests, beach walks, sandy feet, and salty air are just some of the things that we share ..I’m not putting fences there. Another blast of cold air ..another frozen stare ..I breath in and smile ..hold it and dissolve ..breath out and let go of the debris ..sit still and start over again. Karla says rock n roll sounds like people screaming ..hip-hop has a smoother flow ..kind of like rhythm n blues ..folk rock tells fairy tales ..fairy tales contain pieces of the heart that rational thought leaves out.

Epilogue

        American Gothic

I love the new Evanescence CD ..! I mentioned this to my neighbor Anastasia the other day and she told me that the reason I like them so much is because they are ‘mainstream’. I figure she ought to know ..her husband is the lead singer for a Goth metal band ..and they are definitely not mainstream .. or commercially successful. Anyway, it confirms my suspicion that the Goth subculture is growing. They are stepping out of their ‘niche market’ and laying siege to the rest of our psyche ..the parts that bring us places like Never Land and the Enchanted Forest. They are no longer content to dwell in the mosh pits or heavy metal shows in places like Sacramento or Modesto ..now they can be found in every major port and industrial city in the world. I remember someone saying: “..I can see the future of rock and roll ..and it is Bruce Springsteen.” Yeah ..? Well, they better look again ..I’m beginning to think it’s Ozzy Osbourne.

Karla’s birthday

I pick Karla up after school for our usual assault on the beach. I’m about to tell her to invite friends ..since it’s her birthday ..when she remembers that she already has an invitation to go to a party. It’s Fernanda’s birthday too. Nellie is going .. however, Nellie’s twin sister, Maggie, isn’t coming because she’d rather go shopping with her mother. So I take Karla and Nellie to the party ..then launch my own assault on the beach with Andy, my dog. I watch him chase birds up and down the shore ..see pelicans dive bomb for fish ..listen to a guy named ‘Tim’ tell me how his girlfriend threw him out of the house because members of their church didn’t like his tattoos. I go for a swim then drive back to Laura’s house. Laura is home from work now so we go pick up Karla ..and get a call from Nellie’s mother asking where Maggie is. Laura tells her that we don’t know because I only drove Nellie to the party ..then tells me she’s probably with her boyfriend. We go have a ‘birthday dinner’ at the Vietnamese restaurant ..pho with shrimp and fish. I listen to Karla explain the message behind the movie ‘Before and After’ ..so now I’m anxious to see it. She also wrote down the plot of a movie called ‘Fairy Tale’ ..in case I wanted to use it for one of my goth fairy stories. How thoughtful she is. She's thirteen today.

Chapter six

        I l l u m i n a t i o n

The Goth Fairy culture inhabits a world much darker than the rest of us ..however, they know how to illuminate these realms from within. For them, the outer world is a passing illusion ..it only seems real when we catch a glimpse of it and freeze the action. Life is never really motionless though ..only the mind makes it seem so. Fairy Goth children learn how to master the inner world before they learn to deal with the outer world. At an early age, they study metaphysics and cosmology. By the time they are ten, they are practicing mental telepathy and mystic transport. Their minds are tuned to waves of energy that children in other cultures have had pruned away. I sat down recently and spoke with the Fairy Goth Princess ..a remarkable young lady, in her teens, who is heiress to the throne. Unlike other children who learn their mystical skills through instruction and books ..she acquired her abilities by direct experience. She explains: “I can still hear the echoes from facing the walls of the abyss for ten years. I learned how to escape those barriers by following a trail that lead directly to my mind ..where I found a portal that allowed me join the other children playing in the fields. Now, when a child is lost or in trouble ..I can hear their pleas for help and telepathically guide them to safety. You see, we are all connected to one another through mental ‘receiving stations’ .. each member immediately shares the experiences of all the other members.” The Fairy Goth Princess explains how books, as good as they may be ..can sometimes get in the way of mystical experience: “Conflicting opinions muddy the water. The only way to see things clearly is by calming the mind and allowing the mud to settle.” She goes on to say: “No matter how much information you get from books ..whatever knowledge or supernatural power you may acquire ..when quarrels arise ..you have lost the way to illumination.”

See ~~> Epilogue

Chapter five

      Pathway to illumination

The Fairy Princess scales the steep canyon walls of the disenchanted forest. Along the way, her boots get wet and soggy and her legs ache. She climbs over obstacles using her hands, feet and fingernails. On the slopes of Mount Breakdown she feels a tingling sensation ..bright lights shimmer in her head ..and clusters of sadness fall away. She looks down and pays tribute to the clouds in the valley below. Members of the Goth Fairy Kingdom have a profound reverence for dark places like gorges, caves and grottos. It’s not just a fashion statement or superstitious behavior ..they actually believe that darkness is the mother of all things ..the womb where life begins. She feels exhausted but in tune with the rhythm. She knows that hard times naturally give way to good times ..like a light that shines in a dark place ..they’re co-relative. One doesn’t exist without the other.  Continue here ~~> Chapter six

Crazy Charlie

Charlie didn’t get any sleep last night. After I went to bed, I could still here him talking to himself in the dining room. This morning there’s a mountain of crumpled paper on the table and Charlie is no where to be found. I uncrumple a few of the pages and see lots of squiggly lines and arrows. I turn them upside down and sideways to see if I can find a thread of rational thought anywhere. Sure enough ..I found one. It seems to suggest a conspiracy: space aliens are in control of the U.S government and setting crude oil prices to ensure supplies for their own planet. I’m afraid that Charlie is in the hyper phase of his bipolar cycle. I drive down to the wharf looking in all the places he usually hangs out. I find him walking down the center of highway 101 ..without any clothes. I pull up beside him and yell: “Hey you crazy Gaijun, wuz happinin ..?” He says he overheated somewhere back on Haley Street. I say: “Yea ..there’s an offshore flow ..mucho caliente ..but hey, kick-ass conditions on the coast.” He gets in and I drive to Arroyo Burro beach where he won’t look so conspicuous (because it’s a nude beach). We get out and I follow his line of crazy hyper-chat down to the water ..and throw him in.

Saint Konstanz

The Vampiress of Konstanz

Halloween

Karla dressed up as ‘Tigger’ from Winnie the Pooh and went door to door trick or treating with friends from school. I had on an Arabic headdress and trench coat ..so, I guess that made me a Sheik. Afterwards, Laura, Karla and I sat on a sidewalk cafe, off State Street, and tossed candy to all the people walking by dressed in funny-looking costumes. We saw lots of people dressed like Jack Sparrow or Captain Morgan ..and heard the sound of many people going 'ahrrrrrrrrgh'. We also saw gypsies ..belly dancers ..witches ..monsters ..aliens ..zombies ..angels ..messengers of death ..skeletons ..household appliances ..marijuana farmers ..transvestites ..some boys ..some girls ..some I don’t know ..I did recognize Hunter S Thompson though ..his buddy said I was the only one who did ..but now I’m not sure that those farmers were wearing costumes.

Flashback

A spider web is finer than silk ..and a hundred times more elastic than a bungee cord. That’s because it's made up of all these interconnections ..so that activity in one part gets transmitted immediately to all the other parts ..like the fleeting connections that exist between thoughts and images ..where one memory activates another ..then another ..then another ..until I’m standing in a parking lot ..that used to be a field ..before the sonic and the walgrens ..and I hear my mother’s voice calling me for dinner ..while I feel the anticipation of swinging at another pitch ..and waiting until I hear the next call ..the one that comes before the angry call ..on another warm summer night down a suburban avenue ..without a care in the world ..when my dad paid all the bills.

Land of the living

My first mistake was preparing for a trip to Big Sur instead of staying in bed. Tuesday felt like hell ..but I took my car in for repairs anyway ..and had breakfast downtown with the idea of doing some last minute shopping. Didn’t take long for me to realize that my plan didn’t stand a chance. I made it as far as the library where I knew there was comfortable furniture to lay down on. After that, I figured walking was out of the question ..so I went by Laura’s work and borrowed her truck ..drove myself home and laid down some more. Later I picked her up and we went to get my car out of the shop. New breaks and a minor tune. Great, now my car is ready for a trip that I’m not going to make. Thursday I cancelled two weeks lodging and workshops at Esalen in a voice that was barely audible. I think they took pity on me because, one ..I sounded so bad, and two ..I was missing a Big Sur retreat. They refunded everything including a deposit which was rightfully theirs to keep. That was sure sweet of someone up there. Today I feel like I’m one step closer to the land of the living.

Fire

orange sky at noon
fire breathing dragon of doom
solar nostrils flare
balls of fire soar
igniting the chaparral below
smoke rises
blocking the sun and moon
life on the line
can turn on a dime
but to make it stop
starve the beast
that’s the ticket
not much to eat
on a blackened mountaintop

Nano size

Nano tech bio-injector systems
can deliver pain blockers
directly at the receptor site.
Nano tech bio-switches
can turn on and off genes
that regulate immune response
which is good for things like lupus,
lymphoma and arthritis.

Mi Ahijada

Mi Ahijada

Last night we put Tia Laurita on a bus to ‘Tia Juana’ (Tijuana, Mexico) for an appointment with the adoption agency. Afterwards, mi Ahijada (my Goddaughter) Karla and I went back to the house and I helped her with her algebra homework. They begin in the seventh grade here, however, she tells me that in Mexico they actually start in the sixth grade .. but what’s really amazing is that I can still do any algebra at all ..! I tried to make it a game of ‘grouping like variables’ before ‘simplifying an expression’ ..I told her there’s less likely to be any ‘stragglers’ that way. For breakfast this morning, I served my usual english muffins with peanut butter and banana. Karla rolled hers and ate it like a tortilla. Next she went into the bathroom and pulled her long hair back into pigtails ..using fresh lemon instead of gel in the front to straighten and hold it in place. Really shows her pretty face. She tells me that she does this every morning before school. That’s why they call her ‘BIG tails’.

Sunday with Laura and Karla

Laura and I have brunch at IHOP where she tells me about her adventure bringing Karla into the United States from Mexico. The other diners probably think we’re trafficking in narcotics ..or people. Later on, we pick up Karla at her friend’s house ..put Andy in the back of the truck and go watch the sunset on the beach. Andy buries his squeaky toy in the sand but Karla finds it. In the evening, we fill up on pho at the local Vietnamese restaurant and I think to myself that Karla was born in another country, eighteen years after the war ..so Vietnam cannot possibly have the same meaning for her as it does for me ..and I tell myself that there is probably no reason it should ..other than as a passage in a history book.

Friday with Karla and Laura

I sit on the deck reading the LA Times ..and wait until the last possible moment to go to the post office and mail my mortgage payment before they make a street person out of me. On the way back, I go by Alisos where I see mi Ahijada (my Goddaughter). We go pick up Tia Laurita from work ..grab our jackets ..put Andy in the back of the truck ..and drive to the beach where Karla does cartwheels in the sand ..Andy chases birds out to sea ..and the sun goes down over the mesa. Afterwards, we go to Piattes for fish and pasta. Laura tells me that they moved Karla to a more advanced level in junior high ..which doesn’t surprise me. She also tells me that she is thinking about putting modular homes (not mobile homes) on the back lot.

Never never land

I walk aimlessly through the streets of Santa Cruz .. a sleepy little northern town nestled between giant redwood trees and the deep blue sea ..I enter Lorenzo woods and hear a mountain side of pine trees hum and sing ..the pine needles bend sun rays that burst into colored light at my visual receptor sites ..I can see the lights of a fairy camp coming from the river banks ..reminds me what a mystical space I’m in ..back on Pacific Avenue there are lots of bicycles, Birkenstocks, paisley covered halter tops and surf board shops ..even this ordinary motel room looks like the Taj Mahal to me ..and I think I see ..in the waves behind my eye lids ..where never-never land might be..

Friday with Ann

I pick her up for lunch ~ and she asks me to fix her remote ~ it only needs a battery so I put it in my pocket for later ~ I comment on the lovely Spanish courtyard outside her place ~ she says she’s not comfortable living there anymore ..all the neighbors are conspiring against her. When I ask why, she says that they’re mostly college students who depend on their parents ..however, they only take one class a semester and they party until dawn so their parents are really supporting their drinking habit. I ask if that bothers her. Yeah, she says, I’ve complained about it so many times that now I’m the one who’s being evicted. That doesn’t make any sense I say ~ she says it happens all the time ..fucking landlords. At lunch, I want to take the time to enjoy my food and listen to her story ..she’s between jobs so I ask her, if she had the opportunity ..what would she like to do the most ~ write a novel, she says ~ fiction or non-fiction, I ask ~ autobiography, she says ~ does writing come easy for you ..or do you struggle with it like me ? ~ easy, she says ~ I tell her what a gift she has ..and ask her if she keeps a journal ~ no, she says ~ so I suggest that she start a blog ~ and she says that she doesn’t want other people reading about her personal life ~ besides, she has no interest in the Internet ..it’s run by a bunch of cocksuckers (Cox cable) and is full of mistakes. She wolfs down her food and rushes me along ~ says she needs to be doing something more productive ..we leave before I am finished ~ I drop her off at her house and drive away ~ she calls to tell me that she can’t find her remote ~ I remember that I have it in my pocket ..so I tell her I’ll drive by radio shack and get a new battery ~ on the way, I take a brisk walk along State street ~ chat with my sister over the phone ~ watch the sunset ~ do some grocery shopping ~ buy a new CD at Borders ~ replace the battery at Radio Shack ~ have a fruit juice at Blenders ~ watch the full moon from the top of a parking structure ~ and return to drop off the remote ~ she invites me in and I sit down on the floor ~ we enjoy a little hashish and I ask her if she would like to hear my new CD ~ it’s not rap or hip hop is it? she asks ~ no, I say ..it’s ‘alternative country’ ..a female duo I saw on one of the late night talk shows ~ she goes on to tell me that she’s always writing Leno to tell him how great his show is ..says he needs that ..she remembers when Letterman had a morning talk show ..she liked him better then .. she’s really bummed about what happened to Stevie Ray Vaughn ..can I imagine what’d be like to die in a helicopter crash ..have I ever been to New York ? ..there’s a street called ‘Maiden Lane’ where the buildings are from the original Dutch settlement ..what’s the matter Lee, don’t you ever watch the ‘History Channel’ ? Meanwhile, I have to admit ..I’ve been listening to the mandolins and thinking about the moon outside.

Chapter four

W o n d e r l a n d

The fairy princess runs with the other children through the grassy hillsides of the disenchanted forest. She shows them how to spin around and around until the sky and ground trade places ..and they fall down laughing. They pick capers for their mother’s goat’s head soup ..run with dandelions petals streaming behind them ..catch tadpoles and have muck fights in the swamp ..she tells them not to drink the mung water ..or eat the purple berries. She tries to ward off words of hostility and protect them from self-loathing. She wants them to remember that, for a bright shining moment, there was a wonderland called childhood.

Continues here ~~> Chapter five

Sun Tsu

I don’t believe we can fight terrorism by using tactics of conventional warfare. Blowing up insurgent strongholds in Iraq doesn’t seem to work. Terrorism just re-forms somewhere else. That’s the nature of networks ..they’re resilient to this type of attack. Their greatest strength is mobility. Damage in one location is easily overcome by re-routing messages somewhere else. All you need is a cellphone. I prefer the strategies of Sun Tzu. A better way to defeat this type of enemy is though deception and misinformation. That’s where networks are most vulnerable ..they’re anonymous. It’s hard to tell who’s really at the other end. I mean, look how easy it is for Dateline NBC to trap sexual predators over the Internet. I say we set up hundreds, perhaps thousands of decoy cells around the world ..staff them with realistic sounding recruiters ..then use their own methods to lure them in. When a terrorist arrives at the door ..Stone Phillips steps out from behind the curtain to greet them.

Scripts

Most of my carefully chosen words ..and well-intended speeches ..generally fall apart as soon as the first line is uttered. I figure it’s because other people are not reading from the same script as me ..they have their own. My neighbor, Richelle, is a single mother going through hell right now trying to raise her sixteen year old daughter, Aria. Simple exchanges like, “How’d it go today?” ..can turn into shouting matches that end up with mom fleeing from the house and sitting across my patio table from me ..badly shaken. This time, I thought I’d be prepared. I remember Richelle once telling me that there’s a car in the garage waiting for Aria ..however, she’s having trouble getting her driver’s license. So, I ask : “What’s the biggest issue facing Aria right now ..I mean, is there any one thing that you can think of that usually starts these fights ?” Now, I fully expect to hear something about the car and driver’s license ..pretty hot topics for a growing teen I figure ..and I’m prepared to speak to these issues. Instead, Richelle starts reciting lines that sound like they’re ripped right out of the pages of a psychotherapy session. She says Aria is dealing with issues of self-worth and approval ..things she’s not getting from her father right now ..because he’s never there. She goes on to tell me about how girls her age look up to their father as a role model for dealing with authority figures and interpersonal relationships ..the biggest issue she’s dealing with right now is abandonment ! And I’m like .. OK, I guess I can throw out my script about cars.

Go ask Alice

It seems like someone pushed me through the looking glass ..my waking hours begin sometime around midnight ..and late night talk shows have become daytime TV ..which I watch over toast and coffee. Swimming trunks and tevas are casual attire for me now ..and there’s always salt water in my hair and sand on my feet when I walk down the street. My favorite drink is lunch. The marijuana co-op has replaced Costco as my primary shopping destination. Familiar streets don’t go the same way that they used to ..and I often have trouble finding my way home. I don’t recognize anybody at the Zen center ..and now I can’t find it anymore either. Sunrise occurs at sunset ..and white powder covers the lawn every morning. My mind is constantly playing tricks on me ..thoughts come and go like rabbits jumping out of a hat and scurrying down a hole. Cosmic rays are getting mixed up with my brain waves and producing crazy images that I often mistake for everyday occurances. I swear I can hear what other people are thinking about me. Normal conversation slips by me so fast that I don’t catch relative clauses ..and confuse words beginning with the letters ‘wh’ ..which greatly reduces my chances for meaningful communication ..and increases the frequency at which my dates and relationships lead nowhere. I’m so busy thinking of something to say that I don’t often hear what other people are talking about. I’m working on that though. Now I’m so busy telling myself to listen when someone else is talking that I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Mr. Infinity

I’m driving 90 mph north on Hwy 101 ..not another car in sight until a red Infinity whizzes by me from out of nowhere. Makes me feel like I’m hardly moving at all. I think infinity ~~> eternity ..there’s a message there somewhere ..what, I don't know. Maybe it's a message from eternity ..telling me that my progress is too slow ..I accelerate to 100 mph. The air is suddenly filled with the scent of manure coming from a nearby farm ..smells like, ummm ..shit, I don't know. Could be a message from the goddess of fertility ..that’s it ..Aphrodite is telling me to get busy .. images of Alicia fill my head ..I tell myself to keep my eyes on the road .. the sky ahead turns blood orange ..sunset mixing with smoke from a forest fire east of here ..110 mph ..Evanescence launches into a hair raising hymn ..120 mph ..tears streak across my face and vaporize. A cosmic panorama opens up in front of me ..there’s nobody here except me and Mr. Infinity.

Angel of Avalon

Dance in the dark of night ..sing to the morning light ..I hear the horse’s thunder ..down in the valley below ..I’m waiting for the angels of Avalon ..waiting for the eastern glow .. the night is long ..the beads of time pass slow .. tired eyes look for sunrise .. waiting for the eastern glow ..at last the sun is shining ..the clouds of blue roll by .. I hear the angels of Avalon ..singing in the valley below.

Photo of ~> Lynn

Chapter three

          R e t u r n  of  the  P r i n c e s s

The fairy princess walks through the disenchanted forest on her way back to a home that she has not seen in over ten years ..not since the tender age of six ..when she was thrown into the abyss. She passes by the sulfur ponds where the goth fairies fish ..and around the slough, where they grow toadstools for their brew. A talking mynah byrd sees her coming and flies ahead to alert her parents ..the new village leaders. A buzz spreads quickly through the community. Everyone dresses up in their best leather ..with emerald green and blood red crucifixes ..looking like stained glass you would see in a church. The petite princess suddenly sees this enormous procession coming over the hill ..chanting a song called ‘my immortal’ in multi-part harmony. It sounds ethereal. As they swarm around her, she feels terrified ..not knowing what to do or say .. she just lets her body sway to the sound of the singing. This gesture sends the fairies into a frenzy ..cheering and laughing wildly. They envelope her fighting for hugs and kisses and lead her down the hill to a waiting reception. She takes a seat at the head of a banquet table lit by torches and decorated with black roses, poppies and amyl nitrates. To celebrate ..they pit-roast giant boar ..drink elderberry wine and hold a rave in her honor. Everyone gathers around to hear her story. The wicked stepsisters disappear and are never seen nor heard in the disenchanted forest again.    Continue here ~~> Chapter four