Chapter one

There was once a fairy princess who was so small that hardly anybody noticed her at all. At the tender young age of six, her wicked stepsisters threw her into an abyss ..and left her there for good. She wanders the tunnels and corridors for years with no one to talk to except her own inner voices. She grows up to be a melancholy waif ..playing by herself among the rocks and pools. Her skin grows pale and translucent. Her hair grows fiery red ..to help her see in the dark. Her ears grow accustomed to hearing the faintest vibrations ..and her eyes become sensitive to the subtlest variation in light. She learns to speak her own dialect of Elfin. One day she finds a path that leads inward toward the gardens of her mind ..where she can run through fields of lilies ..join hands with other children and dance around and around in circles until she falls down laughing. When she gets tired, she lays her head in her mother’s lap and sleeps. She occasionally hears other people roaming through the tunnels. She does not welcome their attention so she dissolves into mist ..gets inhaled with the air ..and travels through their blood stream ..floating in a blood cell. That’s where she discovers the wisdom of the body. Somehow she also learns the language of love.

Continue here ~~> Chapter two

Crazy Charlie (part four)

Charlie learns that the people here live on the river year-around and have established a self-governing community. They have a council and a constitution. The springs are located on Indian Holy Land ..so the first article says to treat the land with respect. The second says respect the sovereignty of others ..don’t steal ..contribute in some way and you are welcome to stay. “As you can see ..” says one of the members “..not much is hidden ..we learn to live without ‘blind spots’ ..all sentient beings are welcome ..there are places for tents downstream; we don’t use them but the campers do ..we help them find a proper site ..warn them about snakes ..tell them where they can find good water ..and in return; we don’t hesitate to ask them for whatever they can afford to offer in the way of food and medicine. Over there is the ‘Canyon of Refuge’ where people practice solitude ..or where someone can hide for years if necessary.” Charlie burns his clothes .. pours olive oil over his body ..and lies in the hot springs ..sometimes until three in the morning ..watching stars as big as baseballs ..and listening to people discuss the constellations. He works on the trash brigade ..contributes money during supply runs ..eats rice and lentils .. practices Tai Chi in the river ..enjoys listening to a guy who can carry on several conversations ..about several subjects ..on many levels ..all at once. He processes information about living in the wild .. revises all his notions of beauty .. and falls in love over and over again. After a few months, he looks like a dark version of Nick Nolte with sun bleached hair. One day he helps a group of teenagers find a cool place to camp ..then asks them if they have any medications they can spare. They hand him a little orange pill ..Charlie balances it on his forefinger while they warn him not to take it all at once ..it’s a three-way dose. When they’re finished, Charlie looks at them kindly ..then pops it into his mouth all at once saying: “Thanks, but don’t worry ..it won’t kill me.” They each take a step backwards. Later that day, they watch him walking back and forth in the river with a bandana on his head ..eyes closed ..chanting a mantra ..and banging on a canteen like it was a tambourine.

• In memory of Bradley James McCall (1950 to 1970)
  
• In gratitude to the inhabitants and guests of Deep Creek
  ..your stewardship of the land is stellar.

Crazy Charlie (part three)

Charlie follows the river trail downstream. In several places, he crosses the river ..holding his belonging over his head. The river curves around a bend in the canyon where the water slows ..forming a large clear pool ..the canyon opens up ..and the walls recede into a pristine valley ..bordered by mountains lush with sycamore and pine trees. Sandy beaches line the shores of the lazy river. Rock formations tower several stories high above the water ..with natural hot springs flowing from one pool to another. Charlie thinks he has died and gone to heaven. He sees a group of people sitting in a circle on the beach and walks through the river toward them. He suddenly realizes that none of them are wearing any clothes ..with the exception of a few guys wearing bandanas wrapped around their head. He feels a little awkward, stomping through the water in his army surplus boots. Everyone is deeply bronzed with no tan lines. Some of the men have long grey beards. The women walk with the grace of a Giselle ..and look wild. At first, Charlie feels a little spooked and approaches apprehensively ..but he hears laughter ..and senses harmony ..except for the group of women huddled together on some nearby rocks with X’s carved on their forehead. OK, he’s spooked again. One of the men in the circle rises ..walks into the river ..bows and says: “Namaste ..let me help you with your things ..I believe you are here for more than just the afternoon, am I right? Someone says you fell out of the sky like a meteor .. well, that’s one way to get here ..but there are easier ways ..we’ll show you later ..what matters now is that you are here.

continued ..

IHOP adventure

The cleaning lady wakes me in the morning ..yelling: “Get up ..my daughter’s flyin’ in from Texas today ‘n you’re my last customer.” So now I’m sitting at IHOP eating German pancakes ..remembering the first time I ate at IHOP ..because it was like the first time someone orbited the Earth ..and I’m wondering if all planets are round and orbity ..or if some are irregular and streaky ..like an asteroid ..when suddenly the table explodes with the sound of a hand slamming: BAM BAM BAM ..and someone yelling: “Buenos tardes amigo ..que paso?” ..and I’m thinking ..am I tardy? ..and he’s going: “Wassup dude ..” and I’m like “Scarfing pancakes, brah” ..he sits down and goes: “That’s not a pancake, man .. that’s a crepe ..pancakes come in stacks” ..and I say: “Guess you never seen a silver dollar pancake either ..let’s see if they got those on the menu” ..and he goes: “Nah, ya’ only get those in Vegas” and I’m like: “Dude, you’re thinking about a silver dollar breakfast” and he goes: “That’s no breakfast ..a steak and a bottle of wine ..now that’s breakfast ..they got that here?” “S’pose so ..they’re also known as Cholesterol City”. He asks the waitress ..but she says they don’t serve alcoholic beverages ..and I say too bad, guess they can’t serve you any beverages ..no one gets the stupid joke ..he looks at me like I’m an idiot ..then asks the waitress how in the world they can serve crepes without French wine ..the two go together like tequila and limes ..and I’m like: “Dude, you’re thinking about baguettes” ..he looks at me like I’m an idiot ..the waitress is looking at us like we’re both idiots ..I’m thinking ‘five easy pieces’ ..and he asks the waitress for a steak and Denver omelet with poblano chilies.

Crazy Charlie (part two)

Charlie tries to keep his balance on the narrow trail. He follows the river canyon from the high desert to the foothills of the mountains ..where the water rushes between boulders and sycamore trees. He catches a glimpse of it every once in a while ..but, from his altitude, it looks like a thin ribbon of water winding slowly around pebbles and twigs. He gets lost when the trail crosses a dry riverbed and branches into a maze of paths ..some going up into another canyon ..and others going nowhere in particular. He decides to follow the dry riverbed down to the main stream. At first, it meanders pleasantly around rocks and trees ..but suddenly it straightens out and becomes steep ..then the ground beneath his feet gets brittle and breaks loose ..until he’s sliding several feet down the slope with every step. At first, it’s fun ..he feels like he’s walking on the moon ..then it becomes a terrifying out-of-control slide down the mountain side. He tries steering with his feet like a bobsled ..but it doesn’t do any good. He gets flung over the edge and floats into the canyon below. He looks down and sees something coming up real fast It’s his reflection in a pool of water. He hits it and sinks to a depth of several fathoms before getting his bearings and jetting back up to the surface ..gasping for air. The pool is a slow-moving part of the river ..pausing before it flows through some massive boulders and cascades into more pools below. Charlie grabs his pack and bedroll floating by ..swims over to the bank .. lifts himself out of the water ..and comes face to face with an extremely tall woman ..no tan lines ..surrounded by a dozen radiating golden children ..all beaming up at him ..eyes wide open. He stands there speechless for a moment ..then blurts out: “Hi, I’m Charlie ..is this the way to Shangri-La?” She smiles, points downstream and tells him he’s almost there: “Just follow the river trail ..you can’t miss it.”

continued ..

Crazy Charlie (part one)

“Man, you’d think the back alleys of LA were turning gold” ..Charlie says. He ought to know ..he’s just been kicked out of one. So he spends the next three days following the Santa Ana river to San Bernardino. Thought nobody would bother him there. Instead he finds the streets buzzing with crystal meth ..and cross-fire. He catches a ride out of town with a kid in a Cadillac, who, moments before ..carjacked it just in time to avoid a police raid on his own meth lab. They blow through the Cajon Pass and out into the high desert going over 120 mph. “That kid was spooked man ..he was poppin' pills like candy and lookin' over his shoulder the whole way.” They stop near a park in Victorville and, without a word ..the kid grabs an AK-47 out of the back seat ..walks into traffic ..smashes the window of a car stopped at an intersection ..hijacks the car ..and disappears down Highway 18 toward Barstow ..leaving two guys standing on the corner shaking ..and Charlie heading for the hills. He spends the night with some other ‘campers’ on the Mojave River. He tells them his story and, in return ..they tell him about some hot springs in a river canyon so deep that roads don’t go near them ..cell phones won't work there “..it’s like Shangri-la, man. I bin there once ..but now I can’t find my way back ..no way.” Before dawn, Charlie is hiking up the Mojave River in the general direction of Shangri-la. After a few days, he finds a tributary feeding in from the East. He stops and tastes the water. Fresh California snow pack with just a hint of olive oil and patchouli. “This has got to be it” ..he says to himself. He follows this new river into a steep canyon filled with boulders. After a while, the boulders become so large that he can’t go over them ..or around them. He climbs straight up the side of the canyon, using his hands and feet, until he finds a goat trail, about 10 inches wide, that follows the river from up high.

continued ..

Branching streams

A breeze cools my face ..a candle flickers ..a bell rings to keep my mind from wandering .. like a stream that branches in different directions ..there's a thousand and one things rattling around up there ..not one of them worth writing about. Why don’t I feel like there’s anything worth writing about ? Nothing seems entertaining enough ..or clever enough. It all seems like a bunch of boring crap you find in a junk drawer ..images of someone I haven’t seen since 2001 ..remnants of a failed relationship I’m still trying to fix. Even now, I’m trying to improve a conversation that I had the night before. What sense does that make? I wonder what’s in me that makes me do that ? Maybe if I rummage around long enough I’ll find something interesting ..a key that unlocks a door ..a door that leads to a more enlightened place. You know, maybe it’s OK being a junk drawer ..or a branching stream ..because it’s becoming a real strain trying to keep what I am moving down a straight path all the time. I’m always afraid of miscalculating ..taking the wrong step ..and looking like the fool that I am. In fact, I think I’m more afraid of that than I am falling off a cliff.

Sanctuary

I inhale deeply ..and blow smoke rings toward the sky. I leave the sanctuary ..walk past the misty lagoon ..beneath some twisty trees ..out to the open shore ..across the sandy beach ..and underneath the crashing waves. I come to the surface in calm water ..just beyond the break ..and watch a flock of pelicans sail by ..leaving wind trails in the sky. There aren't too many things I can think of ..real or imaginary ..that can produce more pleasurable waves of endorphins ..or put me farther from the reach of crazy delusions.

Small world (continued)

For those of us who remember seeing the Hitchcock classic ‘The Birds’ when we were kids ..you may not know this ..but it was inspired by actual events. In the coastal town of Capitola, California ..a large flock of disoriented seabirds started crashing into streetlights, cars, houses and people. Alfred Hitchcock was living in nearby Scotts Valley at the time. The birds in Capitola were suffering from a brain disorder caused by eating shellfish containing too much of a neurotoxin (called domoic acid) that periodically flourishes in the ocean near the coast. That’s where we get the saying ..don’t eat shellfish in months containing an ‘R’. The same thing is happening to the seals and sea lions where I live ..more and more of them are washing up on the beach delirious ..even in months without an ‘R’. The sad thing is ..it happens mostly to the females who come to the coastal waters to deliver their young ..making them unable to care for their pups properly. Sadder still, even in trace amounts ..human children who eat shellfish with this substance will, over time, develop memory impairment. Then they wind up at the Center for Learning Disabilities. We are seeing more and more of them now too. Scientists tell us that the amount of this toxic substance is going up near the coast due to warmer water ..disappearing wetlands (that act as a filter) and urban runoff. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against human progress or anything. It’s just that I’m tired of hearing people tell me that human activity doesn’t make that big a difference in the larger scheme of things.