Lot

Lot
Originally uploaded by Corbie.

We're more prepared for the holidays this year than we usually are, but that's not saying much. Today, the weather has turned rainy. I attended the staff Christmas party and got a white elephant gift in the form of a cookbook, packaged with a blank journal and a frog pin. I gave away an extra copy of Farley Mowat's Never Cry Wolf. Next week is the last week of camp for the season, and I'm spending half of it observing other instructors, which should be interesting. We do this from time to time because normally we never get to see each other teach. Hopefully I'll learn some new games or tactics.

Then the holidays will be upon us.

Sadly though, there are a couple of people I knew who won't be here for the holidays this year. These two people, one of whom I hadn't seen in years, passed away early this month, both from illness. The first was Sam Kress, who once sang for old Bay Area heavy metal band, Heathen, and co-created the magazine, Whiplash, with my old friend Brian. I didn't know him well, but he was part of the heavy metal community I chose to be part of as a teenager. If nothing else, his death has gotten a lot of people talking with each other for the first time in decades. That's something, at least. R.I.P. Sam.

Virgil Lorenz also passed away. He lived on site at the school I work at, and acted as kind of a night watchman, making sure all of the various doors and gates were locked after dark. In fact, my last conversation with him was about a missing lock on the front gate. He led another life too, as can be seen on this site. He will be missed by many. R.I.P. Virgil.

Hard to segue away from such sombre news, but one must continue...

As for me, I'm working at a Christmas tree lot again this year to make a little bit of extra money for the holidays. Another birthday has passed too. For my birthday, Greg took me to see John Waters up in San Francisco. Wanda Jackson, a rockabilly contemporary of Elvis, opened the show. She must be in her seventies, but she had a great voice and actually got me to enjoy rockabilly, which in most circumstances I do not. John Waters, now sixty, is still just as crass and hilarious as ever. A good night out. I haven't laughed that much in awhile.