It rained most of the day. At the museum, I stared out the window at the clouds as they surged across the sky, and imagined that they were stationary and we were the ones moving. As I drove home, the storm increased in ferocity. Later, the lights flickered but never went out. I lit a couple of candles just in case the power died. As I took out the trash, the garbage can lid took an unexpected trip down the block. I caught it and put it back a bit more forcefully.
Now it is relatively calm outside, and I am drinking a large glass of orange juice.

I was filling out one of those emergency forms (you know - who to contact in case I fall down a well or experience any other catastrophe) for Hidden Villa, and of course I put down Jen. I got a real thrill out of writing down "wife" in the "relationship" space. I'm so glad we found each other.

cds I listened to as the winds died down: Political Asylum "Rock, You Sucker", Penelope Houston "Karmal Apple", Ani Difranco "Out of Range", Godflesh "Selfless", and Gjallarhorn "Ranarop - Call of the Sea Witch"

now: Martyn Bates "Imagination Feels Like Poison"

The evening started with the smell of imminent rain in the air, and clouds lowering above. Leaves raced across asphalt, or swirled in confusion, as if panicking at the news of an advancing army of raindrops. The trees roared around me. By the end of the night, some of these trees had toppled, or dropped heavy branches onto cars. I often found myself swerving to avoid plant debris. The hard lines of roads and curbs softened into leafy indistinctness. I love winter storms.

The day started on a surreal note. One of the first things I do upon awakening is turn on the lights in the reptile cages. This is a pretty simple task, except for the one in the python cage, which never quite works right and has to be jiggled. In order to jiggle it, I have to reach over the python, who is always expecting food. Anything that enters the python cage is mistaken for food. I've gotten into the habit of picking up whatever happens to be on the floor near the cage and placing it between the python's head and my hand as I reach for the light. Today it was one of Nathan's jackets. You can see where this is leading... Have you ever tried to get a jacket away from a python after he's latched onto it? He struck, looped his coils around it, and squeezed. I tried to pull it out. He squeezed tighter. I was trying to get ready for work, so I got him out of the cage and carried him around with me while I got dressed, attempting every so often to get the jacket back. Every time I grabbed it, he thought it was coming back to life, so he'd tighten up again. I finally got it away from him, and made it to work on time. Nathan was a bit miffed about the whole thing though.

I would have had a unique excuse if I had been late.

At the museum, I put an Ethiopian cd in the player, and a guy from Ethiopia had to question where he was. It turns out he'd grown up listening to the first song on the cd. He was a bit surprised to hear it in the Early Childhood Center at the children's museum. Another one of those "meant to be" coincidences.

cds I listened to while getting a bit wet and trying to get the car to slide on the leaves: Coil "Unnatural History", eX-Girl "Kero! Kero! Kero!" and "Big When Far, Small When Close", Gjallarhorn "Sjofn", Penelope Houston "Tongue", and Punk Lady (who are actually eX-Girl in disguise)

now: Martyn Bates "Mystery Seas (Letters Written #2)"

The papers were late tonight because of the election returns. Yes, we voted (in a garage around the corner). Simple Simon didn't win. Ha ha. Jen says the jack-o-lantern currently rotting on the fence near the front gate looks like Oscar the Grouch. I'm inclined to agree - who would have thought a nail-toothed, lemon-eyed pumpkin could look like a garbage loving puppet?

The tarantula has finally started hanging out on the birdhouse we got for him. Maybe he's waiting for a bird to move in. Who knows what goes on in his spidery little mind?

The kids at Hidden Villa today had name tags with pictures and bar codes on them. Strange.

Cds I listened to while cursing Republicans: Penelope Houston "Loners, Stoners, and Prison Brides", and "The Whole World", eX-Girl "Pop Muzik", Olho Seco "Havera Futuro?", Pink Turds in Space "The Complete...", and Plaid Retina "Dead End Mind"

now: Eyeless in Gaza "All Under the Leaves, the Leaves of Life"

I got a funny Google hit the other day: my pet mangrove snake. I can't even remember when I wrote about mangrove snakes. My advice to this searcher is to not pet mangrove snakes. They can bite right through gardening gloves.

Speaking of gardens, Jason and Stacy got us a cool little garden fairy as a wedding present (we loved all of the other stuff as well, of course). We're going to put it out back near the great porch swing that Jen's dad and stepmother got us. I want to get all of those river rocks we used to decorate tables for the wedding and make some borders in the back yard. Of course, maybe we should attempt a lawn first. Making arbitrary borders in the dirt would be odd.

I registered for the CBEST (Crazed Baboons Endeavoring to Steal Truffles) oops.., I mean California Basic Education Skills Test. This is the first real step towards actually becoming a teacher, as opposed to just talking about it.

cds listened to while enjoying the cool weather: Eversor "September", eX-Girl "Heppoco Pou" and "Back to the Mono Kero!" (back to the single croak?), Painted Black (compilation of very strange versions of the Rolling Stones' "Paint it Black". Thanks Andee!), and Godflesh "Pure"

now: Popol Vuh "Seligpreisung"

It's a new week and I find myself sucked back into my current routine. I've noticed that some people have already put up Christmas lights. The jack-o-lanterns haven't even rotted away yet! What's the rush?

Speaking of rushes, I wasn't in a rush to see the newest Star Wars movie, so when we went to see it on the Tech museum's Imax screen, I was probably the only person in the audience who hadn't seen it before. This particular Imax screen is of the domed variety, which means we were looking straight up a good portion of the time. At other times, it was necessary to whip my head back and forth to catch the action or subtitles or whatever it was that was disappearing beyond my peripheral vision at that particular moment.
Was the movie any good? Kind of... This type of film, as Dario Argento once succinctly put it, is for kids. There are lots of great special effects and sets. The story is relatively simplistic, and occasionally downright sappy. On the bright side, Yoda gets into a fight with Christopher Lee. On the down side, the film had nowhere near the effect on me that the first three did. But what the hell...

A couple of days earlier, we (the married we) were at the Tech museum with the kids and Jen's dad and stepmom and brother and his girlfriend Stacy. The kids had a great time. I got a good laugh when I discovered an exhibit that allowed you to videotape yourself holding forth on the subject of technology. I was thinking of sitting Sophie in the chair and letting her talk for a while but it didn't seem to be working. I looked around for helpful signs. Instead of finding anything useful, I found a sign that admonished people to avoid "foul language or inappropriate jester's". The first question that sprang to mind was, "inappropriate jester's what?" Hat? Shoes? I had visions of jesters in army helmets or baseball caps being dragged away from the exhibit.

Are the exhibit people at the Tech museum only semiliterate? You decide. Push this button to record your answer. Past favorites include a Super 8 hotel that was "comming soon" and a store that has been selling "sheespkin" car seat covers for years. This new trend in apostrophe abuse is unsettling though. The poor little things are too small to fight back.

cds listened to while being blinded by all of the Christmas lights: Eld "Carved", Empress s/t full length cd, and s/t ep, Godflesh "Cold World", Ani Difranco "More Joy, Less Shame", and "Dilate", and Ether "Music for Air Raids"

now: Wizard Women of the North

I haven't been making regular entries this week because I'm married now! In celebration of this new state of being, I've taken the week off, thus breaking the routine of writing entries after work. The wedding happened perfectly. We got married by a very nice judge, Erica Yew, in the midst of a majestic redwood grove. Just about everybody we invited showed up. Faun Fables provided the reception music, and did so perfectly. In addition to playing all of the songs we asked for, Dawn and Nils even played songs I had intended to ask for but had forgotten about. Sophie, Lexy, and I danced.
Jen looked beautiful, of course, wearing the dress that Jane made and crowned with flowers. Jane also made Sophie's dress, which was perfect. It went well with her wings. Our parents have now all met. The cake was wonderful, as was the specially ordered ginger ale. Thanks to everybody involved for making the day such a success. I could go on, but since everything went so well, it's probably pretty dull reading for the casual surfer.
At the end of the day, Lexy fell in the pond.

now: Gry "Public Recording"

I'm taking all of next week off of work. If I scrutinized our financial situation, I might change my mind, so I'm not going to look too closely. Every other time I've taken a vacation, I've travelled out of the state or country and arrived home more worn out than when I started (and, needless to say, much more impoverished).

Jen's dad has a Texas handshake.

We're forming a union this weekend. I am most pleased. The next time I update this page, I will be wearing a ring. ...and a few extra pounds because of the cake.

cds listened to while anticipating wedded bliss: Einsturzende Neubauten "Strategies Against Architecture II", Hoven Droven "More Happy Moments...", and The Gathering "Strange Machines"

now: Pantaleimon "Trees Hold Time"

I must not have gotten the memo. Everybody else was out walking pairs of white dogs. The first guy I saw had a couple of good sized, long-haired dogs. They looked askance at me as I drove past. I thought little of it until about ten minutes later when I saw another man walking another pair of white dogs. This time they were tiny, little more than rat sized. What brought these people out at one in the morning? Was there indeed a memo instructing people to exercise highly visible pairs of canines? I will never know.

Ten minutes after this, a lawn tried to steal one of my shoes. I hopped and slid for a moment, trying in vain not to let my exposed sock come into contact with the muddy grass. In the end, I toppled onto the lawn. When I regained my footing, still awkwardly hopping, I could not see my shoe. It took me a few moments to discover it about ten feet away, looking like it had tried to escape. I grabbed it and shoved it on over my soaked, muddy sock. Yet another private moment spewed out onto the internet for everybody to see. It's not as cool as actually being there though. ha ha.

The house is resisting our efforts to whip it into shape for anticipated guests. I'm pretty tired. I think I'll go to bed.

Animals spotted tonight: one opossum, two skunks, and eleven egrets.

cds I listened to while dealing with the moistness inside my right shoe: Nausea "Extinction - the Second Coming", Einsturzende Neubauten "Tabula Rasa", and "Ende Neu" Birdsaw "Born Messy", and Ani Difranco "Living in Clip"

now: cd of songs we selected for the wedding, thoughtfully assembled by M.

I got paid good money to slice apart a pumpkin and scatter its innards all over the place. Children converged on the mess and began pounding at it with various utensils. Soon everything was caked with stringy, dried pumpkin goo. Memorable quote from a mom of two children who refused to leave the table: "they're so interested in this because they're not allowed to make messes at home." This same mom seemed to think there was some other sort of pumpkin that one used to actually make food. Surely the ones in the patches are just for playing with. People are odd.

I went to San Francisco with my new tires to find and converse with the recently returned minstrels. They engaged in minstrelry and then we discussed the wedding, where they are to engage in yet more minstrelry. The problem of a P.A. system was brought up, and solved moments later by the fortuitous appearance of a very tall man with his hair separated into three distinct sections. This man agreed to provide a P.A.

Then, women wearing the undergarments of our ancestors made an unholy racket on their cellos. We clapped.

Animals spotted tonight: Two Night herons, one nervous raccoon, and ten egrets doing what egrets always do in the middle of the night: sleeping in trees.

cds listened to while enjoying my new tires: Beasts of Paradise "Gathered on the Edge", Einsturzende Neubauten "Faustmusik", "Interim", and "Malediction", In Gowan Ring "Exists and Entrances Vol.2", Birdsaw "Haunted by one Question", and Coil "Moon's Milk", "Bee Stings", "Amethyst Deceivers", and "North" (a.k.a. spring, summer, autumn, and winter)

now: Anja Garbarek "Smiling & Waving"

Two ways of looking at the same event:

1. I would end up with a flat tire during the night before I have to go to all three jobs and a gig. Dammit! This kind of thing always seems to happen at the most inconvenient time. I'm going to be soooo busy tomorrow.

2. There's always a reason for everything. My tires are so worn down that I poked myself on the steel tread while taking off the wheel, which means that I should get off my butt and replace them I might not have noticed the tread poking through if I hadn't taken off the wheel. The steel is only showing on the inward facing side. It's better to have a blowout while driving at ten miles per hour through a trailer park than it is to have one on the freeway. I'll just go get new tires tomorrow instead of going to Hidden Villa. They can get along for a day without me. I don't even have to set my alarm for any earlier.

I looked at it the first way for about a minute.

animals spotted tonight: one skunk (evidently there not all holed up for the winter yet) and nine egrets.

cds I listened to while driving around on three wheels and one doughnut: Steve Von Till "If I Should Fall to the Field" (I was looking up at the moon as it peeked through the low-lying clouds and appreciating how the autumnal feel of this cd was enhancing the evening when I heard the tell-tale flup flup flup of my air-less tire slapping the asphalt), FM Einheit "Prometheus/Lear", Alexander Hacke "Filmarbeiten", Ani Difranco "Little Plastic Castle" and Beasts of Paradise "Nobody Knew the Time"

now: Savina Yannatou "Mediterranea"

I once saw a man with so many calluses on his hands that they didn't look human. In addition to this, it looked like the calluses had been shredded, giving his hands the texture of one of those cross-hatched breakfast cereals. I wonder what he did (or does) for a living. It is this time of year that my own hands start to give me problems. Over the years, I have found that cold weather, in conjunction with newsprint, leads to cracked and bleeding hands. I tend to go through a lot of band-aids during the cold months. I'm reasonably sure that a couple of times I've inadvertently delivered band-aids to subscribers along with their papers. As I type this, my hands are in pretty good shape. There are a lot of dry patches on them that will give me trouble during the coming months, but there are no fissures.

I cleaned the frog cage today, so he'll have everything looking and smelling its best when he slows down for the winter. I'm still not sure exactly what kind of frog he is. He's a treefrog, but not a local variety. I think he might be a Cuban tree frog. He used to be the mascot for an algebra class. They even had the poor taste to name him Algefrog. I guess they got tired of him, because somebody donated him to the museum. Since he's antisocial and incredibly quick, it was determined that he would not make a good museum frog. This is why he now resides on top of the dresser behind me. I've had him around two years now.

Outside, the full moon scatters its borrowed light across the night.

cds I listened to while getting hit by moonlight: Ammer/Einheit/Haage "Apocalypse Live", The Gathering "Superheat" and "if_then_else", Coil "Stolen and Contaminated Songs", and Ani Difranco "Up Up Up Up Up Up"

now: Ani Difranco "Reckoning, Revelling"

Another work week draws to a close. It's starting to get cold outside at night. I am impelled to wear something besides a t-shirt. The leaves are falling. I think the tree in our backyard has a hidden stash somewhere. As I raked earlier in the week, I looked up to see the tree almost devoid of leaves. As I raked earlier today, I once again looked up and saw roughly the same amount of leaves. Maybe we're being punished for not watering more often.
Jen got to hear the baby's heartbeat today, and all is well. We've created a somebody. Of course, Jen has to do most of the work at this point. It must be such a strange feeling to be pregnant. The projected due date is May 8th. A spring baby.
Sophie has discovered the comic delights of smacking people on the nose. It's probably my fault for laughing when she does it. It's hard not to laugh though, because everything she does is cute. She ate a foil wrapped candy today without taking off the foil. Cute. She pulled apart Nathan's peanut butter and jelly sandwich and stuck the pieces to the kitchen floor. Cute. She tried to eat the flower arrangement on the table. Cute. You get the idea. I think it's a survival mechanism. What would happen if babies were ugly? If you're small and helpless, it is to your advantage to get people to fall in love with you. I could listen to Sophie for hours as she emphatically explains things in a language I don't understand. As I left for work, she was sitting contentedly inside the dryer.

Animals spotted tonight: The Night heron again, and the egrets (seven of them) again. There was also a large bird, possibly an owl, who flew away before I could identify it. It looks like the skunks have made themselves scarce for the winter.

cds I listened to out in the cold: Andreas Ammer/FM Einheit "Radio Inferno", Ani Difranco "Not A Pretty Girl", Pendulum "We're too Small to Lose Each Other", Melvins "10 Songs", and Blixa Bargeld "Commissioned Music"

now: Stephen Kent "Family Tree"

At the museum the other day I was having a discussion about Madagascar Hissing cockroaches with some kids. Not really expecting them to know (they all looked to be under ten years of age), I asked if anybody knew where Madagascar was. None of the kids knew. One of the parents piped up in the background, "it's off the coast of Chile, isn't it?" I replied that it wasn't. It soon became evident that a good number of the adults didn't know where it was either. Somebody finally got it right. Another adult said, "so it's near the Galapagos islands then..." This would, of course, put the Galapagos islands quite some distance from their actual location off the coast of Ecuador. I wonder how much this lack of knowledge amongst the parents ends up stunting the knowledge of their children. I can even remember teachers I had in elementary school who got facts wrong. Then again, not knowing where the Galapagos islands are can be understood. The world is a big place, most of which is ocean. There are thousands of islands out there.
Not knowing what the Galapagos islands are, however, cannot be forgiven. I still remember the incident clearly. I was in a bookstore, and I overheard a child asking his mother about a particular book. I turned and saw the mom holding a large, coffee-table book called "Galapagos". I think it had a Marine iguana on the cover. It appeared to be some sort of photo essay on the islands.
The kid looked up at his mom and asked, "what does "Galapagos" mean?"
The mother smiled down at her child and replied, "I dunno. I think it's the name of the photographer."

I should have said something, but I didn't. I was too shocked.

That was years ago, but still fresh in my mind. Earlier today, I saw a man almost get hit by a large, rusted old pickup truck. He was walking across the road carrying something - car parts, maybe... He stepped right into the path of the oncoming truck, causing the driver to stomp on the brakes. As I passed by, I overheard the man yell, "you can't harm me! I'm Superman!"

I hadn't recognized him without his costume. He really blends in with us average, everyday folk. I guess that ability can come in handy when you're fighting those crafty supervillians.

Animals spotted tonight: one Night heron, nine egrets, and one very confused little gopher.

cds listened to while trying to spot more superheroes: Nick Drake "Bryter Layter", Dunwich "Il Chiarore Sorge Due Volte" and "Eternal Eclipse of Frost", Dvorak "Symphony No.7, etc.", Earth "Extra-Capsular Extraction", and Eden "Healingbow" and "Gateway to the Mysteries"

now: Popul Vuh "Agape-Agape"

Our wedding rings came in the mail today! In a week and a half we'll be wearing them. Jen will be my wife. I still have moments where it all seems like a dream. Time just slips by and the world changes under our feet. This is definitely a big change in my life. I welcome it, and Jen, with open arms. We are not two halves pressed together to make a whole. We are two wholes joined together to form a bond even more durable than the rings we'll be wearing on our fingers.

Tuesday is lengthy for me. It is the only day during the week where I go to all three jobs. The tour at Hidden Villa today consisted of ten first-graders. Most of the roosters where slaughtered in the past week, so the one I've caught the last couple of tuesdays is now food. I caught one today who needs his spurs trimmed. In the cow pen, I coaxed a small fence lizard onto my arm for the kids to look at, and then we got the treat of watching the cows make some pies. The kids were a bit grossed out. In the past, I've gotten kids involved in pushing bits of straw into the cow pies, causing them to resemble low-rent porcupines. Not today. No playing in the cow flop for these kids.

It was slow in the garden at the museum. Sam, who visits the museum on a regular basis with his mom and little brother, was interested in one of the snake books. Since he can't read yet, I was telling him what kinds of snakes he was looking at. When we came to the garter snakes. He looked up and asked, "what do they guard?"

Jen and I have gotten the house and yard into better shape over the last couple of days. We are also the proud owners of two new bookcases. It took me the better part of an hour to assemble one of them. It now squats in the corner behind the lamp, filled to the brim. The other one waits to be assembled. There will still be piles of books even after this one is filled. This is how it should be.

I hope they catch that sniper bastard soon and take away his toys.

Animals spotted tonight: One large skunk, and eight egrets.

cds I listened to while getting pissed off about the proliferation of guns in this society: Calexico "Scraping" and "98-99 Road Map", Ani Difranco "To the Teeth" (not one, but two brilliant anti-gun songs!), Amy X Neuburg & Men "Sports! Chips! Booty!", Mark Growden's Electric Pinata "Inside Beneath Behind", and Lights In A Fat City "Somewhere"

now: Seven Percent Solution "All About Satellites and Spaceships"

As newspaper carriers, we often get what are euphemistically called "service requests". These are, more accurately, complaints. Here's a funny one:

Attn: Sub call to report that it's raccoons in area. Please double bag daily and put Wall Street Journal between the two car's in driveway (so raccoons can't find them).

These complaints are always written in what is euphemistically known as "hurried english". This one is more legible than most. I took the liberty of spelling out all of the silly abbreviations. I left the poor english intact.
I wonder if they really think that putting an extra bag on the paper and making a half-assed attempt to hide it is really going to deter raccoons. Raccoons are pretty smart creatures, as is evidenced by their ability to read the Wall Street Journal. Of course, their taste in reading material leaves something to be desired.

Animals spotted tonight: The same damn Night heron, one opossum standing very still in the middle of the road, and sixteen egrets.

cds I listened to while hiding papers from raccoons: The Gathering "How to Measure a Planet?", Coil "Scatology" and "Horse Rotorvator", and Ani Difranco "s/t"

now: Retsin "Cabin in the Woods"

Why it is futile to argue with the christian right:

While waiting for the truck tonight, I had the great pleasure of entering into a debate on the subject of evolution vs creation. This is sort of like entering a debate about abortion rights. Nobody is going to have a change of heart, no matter how eloquently you argue your side. Anyway, our resident Jerk was maintaining that evolution was silly, and one of my other co-workers was frustrating himself in trying to argue the opposite side. Jerk's main argument had something to do with cars, and how they were made by people. He went on to say that since people were so much more wonderfully complicated than cars that some higher power must have made them. At that point, I tried to explain the concept of evolution to him because he didn't seem to have a firm grasp on it. He replied with some sort of twisted analogy about how cars wouldn't evolve if you left them someplace for billions of years. I tried to explain the difference between inanimate objects and living things, and told him that his analogy was senseless - that even if cars were living things, a single car would represent a single human life. Now, most reasonable people know that evolution doesn't happen in a single generation. He kept blindly mouthing the same point, maintaining that living things were "greater" than cars, so they must have been created, rather than being the end product of evolution. Deciding to mess with him, I asked him to define "greater". He thought for a moment and replied that it meant something of more importance and value.
Then I asked him what was more important - his car or an ant. By his "logic", he would have to say "ant". He didn't reply. I knew what his answer would be, of course. His car is so damn important to him that he always parks it really close to the building so that it's in the way of just about everybody. I remember another carrier bumping it with a handcart. This nearly sent Jerk into shock. You'd think somebody had offed his granny the way he was shouting.
The truck showed up at this point and we all got to work. It's probably just as well. It's hard to win a debate against somebody that illogical. It's fun trying though.

Also, I wish people would just shut up about sports. Why do newspapers and radio stations devote so much time to a bunch of overpaid, bad role models kicking, throwing, or hitting little balls around on the grass. Are we to believe that this is news? Sometimes sports stories take up more space than the real stories. SPORTS ARE NOT NEWS. What if every other type of entertainment got equal space on the front page. Would we have rundowns of concerts, art shows and the like taking precedence over stories about what the president is doing to the country. What is going on with the world these days? I don't know, but Biff Brutus scored 5000 points for his team, and likes to eat twinkies when he's not kicking balls around. I also know that he gets paid more money than most people see in a lifetime. For playing a game. In addition, I know that he uses product X to combat jock itch, wears Y shoes, and brushes his teeth with Z brand toothpaste.

Unfortunately, I can't find my state on a map, and I most certainly don't know where Iraq is. I think it's somewhere near Australia. Don't the aborigines live there? Aborigines are people who sit around a lot. I saw it on TV after the game. The president is smart and he knows what's best for me. I've got five flags on my pickup truck. It's hard to see around the one I've got glued to my windshield, but if I lean out the window I can still see well enough to drive. Leaning out the window helps sober me up a bit too. The TV tells me to drink beer. I believe my TV when it suits me to do so. My TV is good. It thinks for me. God made me. I am great...

Nighttime birds I spotted while listening to a cd called "Nighttime Birds": One Night heron, and six egrets.

cds I listened to while trying to see around that darn flag on my windshield: M.D.C. "Shades of Brown", Melvins "Lysol" (actually not entitled anything because the makers of Lysol made them remove the name from all copies of their cd - I restore the title here to piss off Lysol), Calexico "Travelall", Nick Drake "Way to Blue - an introduction to Nick Drake", and The Gathering "Nighttime Birds"

now: Coil "How to Destroy Angels"

Why I am a defensive driver:

Every so often, as was the case tonight, I can just tell that a car approaching the intersection on a red light is not going to stop. This means that I, with the green light, run the risk of driving directly into the path of this scofflaw. Tonight, I waited until the approaching car was just entering the intersection, pulled forward, and leaned on my horn. The other car came to a halt in the middle of the intersection. I steered around the front of the car and saw that the driver, a young, somewhat shellshocked looking lady, was still talking on her little phone. I loudly instructed her to HANG UP HER FUCKING PHONE! Okay, maybe not the most intelligent way to start a dialogue, but it sure felt good. I didn't stick around to see if she complied, but I'll bet she didn't. Now don't get me wrong, some people can manage to talk on a phone and drive at the same time. I manage to fold papers, put them in bags, and throw them all over creation, all while driving. I manage to eat dinner while driving down the road every night. That said, I don't like talking on a phone while driving. The couple of times I've tried it, I've found my attention someplace beyond the confines of my car.

Earlier, the slowly swelling crescent moon snuck behind a thin layer of clouds. The motion and relative transparency of the clouds made the moon look like it was smoldering. Does anybody else ever notice this stuff?

Even earlier than that - the yellowjackets aren't even waiting for the bees to die before eating them. That's kind of mean.

Animals spotted tonight: nine egrets, and one hopping katydid.

cds listened to while looking both ways before crossing the street: Ani DiFranco "Like I Said (songs 1990-91)", Sally Doherty "s/t", "Empire of Death", and "On the Outside", and The Gathering "Almost a Dance" and "Mandylion"

now: Sally Doherty and the Sumacs "Black is the Colour"

It was pleasantly cloudy today. The clouds covered most of the sky, painting it grey and white. The whole thing probably deepened to oranges and reds at sunset, but I was otherwise occupied so I can only imagine what it was like.

I'm thinking of all the ways I have justified buying such a large quantity of cds over the years:

1. I'm going to get this eventually, so I might as well get it now.

2. Hey, this store donates a portion of its proceeds to helping save the rainforest. What a great cause!

3. I'll just get this band's whole back catalog to save myself the trouble of having to come back to get the rest later.

4. It's my friend's band. I'm helping my friends!

5. It's on an independent label. I'm helping independent labels!

6. I don't have any cds from this country yet...

7. The people who own this record store are cool. I'll buy lots of cds here to ensure that they stay in business.

8. It's a limited edition. If I don't buy it now I might never see it again.

9. Well, dammit, I just need more cds with banjos (or nyckelharpas... or bodhrans...) on them.

10. Hey, this cd is cheaper than food!

11. It's a benefit cd.

12. I worked some extra hours this week, so this is extra money...

So you see what I'm up against. They're all valid reasons too. I just recently sent some money to the Snowden Environmental Trust, which got me a Dar Williams tape. I'm helping the environment! I'm sure everybody has ways to justify their excesses. The first step towards recovery is to realize the ways we justify things.

Animals spotted tonight. three tree-climbing raccoons, one jaywalking opossum, and seven sleeping egrets.

cds that I probably had really good reasons for buying: The Gathering "Always...", Doc Wor Mirran "Garage Pretensions" and "Fressing Heads", The Ass Baboons of Venus "Spanking the Species" (I got this one absolutely free for being an extra in a movie called "Legend of the Waterbreakers". As of yet, I don't think it has been released. Starring ex-girl as perpetually pregnant rock stars. We got to help keep the babies in. Don't ask.), Coil vs ELpH, and In the Spirit of Crazy Horse - Songs for Leonard Peltier

now: Sally Doherty and the Sumacs "Sleepy Memory"

Today was day number two for me at Hidden Villa. I had a group of ten kids, two of whom were scared of most of the animals. Even the chickens. I caught the same rooster I caught last week, and he did the same thing again - crowed with indignation. When I put him back, the other roosters beat him up for being slow enough to get caught. I'd better stop catching him or his days are numbered. I lifted over the little wooden foot bridges and found a baby alligator lizard and a black widow. The kids really liked the lizard, but were a bit uncertain about the spider. Later, I found a little tree frog and everybody liked it. Even the timid kids.
It was pretty hot today, and by the end of the tour, at least a couple of the kids were whining about being hot and thirsty. Feeding them borage flowers didn't seem to help. I left them with their snacks and went to the museum.
I built a structure out of Kapla blacks in the Zoom Zone and timed how long it was before somebody knocked it down. It was so slow today that it was a full two hours and twenty minutes before it tumbled down under the hands of a very guilty looking girl.

Meanwhile, out in space, an 800 mile wide globe makes itself known. It is in orbit out beyond Pluto, and it circumnavigates the sun every two hundred and something years. Expect George Bush to declare it as "evil" in the next few days. Funds will be diverted into the space program, and an armada will be sent out to meet it. Maybe they'll tell us it's the Death Star to keep us riled up enough to vote for Bush in the next election. If this happens, it would be no more transparent than the crap he's already pulling.

Animals spotted tonight: One Night heron, one skunk, and nine egrets.

cds listened to while thinking that Night herons are odd birds: Dirty Three "Ufkuko" and "Ocean Songs", Heartbeat - Voices of First Nations Women, Dissecting Table "Zigoku", Doc Wor Mirran "Lasher" and "The Music of Blood"

now: Dar Williams "I Have No History"

I haven't bought a cd in weeks. This is akin to a practicing alcoholic saying s/he hasn't had a drink in weeks. I made a decision to cut down on my consumption for a number of reasons. The first one is that I've had my hours cut at both of my jobs, and money is getting a little tighter. The second one is that I'm starting to become overwhelmed by the number of cds I have. The ongoing list at the bottom of each blog illustrates my attempts to listen through my entire collection. I started doing this in january, and I'm not even halfway done yet. I'm also going to be a father sometime next year. I'm already a stepfather, but I'm not totally financially responsible for Lexy, Nathan, or Sophie. I think my priorities are starting to shift in light of my impending fatherhood. I really have invested a lot of energy over the years building my music collection. I wonder what I could have accomplished by now if all of that energy had been invested elsewhere? Let's see if I stay on the wagon or not. This seems like a time to grow. I feel different somehow. More free.

animals spotted tonight: two raccoons and fourteen egrets

cds listened to tonight (note: no new ones): Chu Ishikawa "Tetsuo", Die Cheerleader "Filth by Association" and "Son of Filth", Coil "Windowpane", The Gathering "Downfall - the Early Years", and Dirty Old Man River "The Saddest Movie Screen"

now: Lila Downs "Border"

I got a female hissing cockroach on friday, so that we can have the joy of watching it give birth, and the additional joy of watching the babies grow. Later, Matt and I went to see Lila Downs at the Brava theater in the Mission district in S.F. She has one of those deep, honey-velvet type voices. Sort of like June Tabor, except she does Central and South American style folk songs instead of english ones. She also looks strangely like Frida Kahlo. Her percussionist was playing a cajon, which is basically a wooden box with a soundwell. We have one of those at the museum, but this is the first time I've seen one played professionally. The various musicians did solos, which I usually find a little annoying. This time it was okay, because in addition to sax, harp, bass, and percussion solos, there was a juggling solo. A really good juggling solo. I like that! The audience was on its feet by the end.
After the show, we went to Matt's house and, with flashlight in hand, poked around in his shed for black widows. We managed to get one into a little plastic cage without too much difficulty. I figured this would be a good bonus at the spider workshop I was helping out with on sunday.
Saturday, Lexy had a birthday party (his sixth) at the park, featuring a really tough pinata, a large amount of chocolate cake, and a lot of new toys that got stuck in trees. I still have a sizeable gouge in my right arm from getting down the air-powered plane that Jason got him. Sophie got really messy and ate lots of cake.
On sunday, Jen got to go to a lingerie shower. I heartily approve! I went to the museum and helped facilitate the spider workshop. The children in attendance were all around Lexy's age. I read them Eric Carle's "The Very Busy Spider" and showed them an assortment of arachnids. I brought the Pink-toed tarantula, the Tucson Blonde tarantula, the Black Widow (to show everybody what the only dangerous local spider looks like - surprisingly enough, a lot of people have never really seen one of these), the Tanzanian Giant Banded Tailless Whip scorpion (biggest name, smallest creature), the vinegaroon, and the Emperor scorpion. The children then made their own spiders out of pre-cut circles, fabric, and an assortment of "eyes" and "legs" made out of various things. Everybody enjoyed themselves. I'm giving more thought to doing this at schools.

Tonight, less than an hour ago, I got pulled over yet again. This time it was in sight of our house. Apparently I have a brake light out. The cop asked if he could search my car. I mulled that one over for a moment and then let him do it. I asked his partner if they made a habit of searching cars they stop for non-functioning lights. She said they did, because of the time of night. I somehow think that is bullshit. If I had been driving a Lexus and wearing a suit I bet they wouldn't have searched the car. They probably wouldn't even have pulled me over. Haven't they figured it out by now? The people in the expensive cars and the suits usually have a lot more to hide than the people with long hair and torn jeans driving filthy Nissans. It looked even dirtier with all of those cop lights shining on it. And what is that damned spider web stuff all over the back of my car? Maybe the spiders were having a people workshop. At any rate, they didn't find anything. Maybe I should put mouse traps in my glove compartment so that next time they will... Can you tell I'm a bit irritated? I feel like I've been profiled. At least I didn't get a ticket. If I was a criminal I'd try to look like George Bush. Nobody would think I was intelligent enough to do anything wrong. hmmm... maybe that's how he got where he is today. It sure fooled me. I didn't think he had a chance in hell of becoming president. If it wasn't for his connections he'd probably be working the night shift at a gas station. Okay, enough ranting for one night.

Animals spotted: six egrets, one tiny little baby opossum, and one skunk.

cds listened to while looking suspicious: Ulali "Mahk Jchi", Pale Nudes "Soul Come Home", Fomoflo "no.11" and "Slug & Firearms", Tone Dogs "The Early Middle Years", and Der Eisenrost "Armored Weapon"

now: Jorg Thomasius & Doc Wor Mirran "The Sound of Silver"

I ordered pants for the wedding this week because I'd look pretty funny getting married without pants. I also ordered a strange bug this week because... well, because I could, dammit. I hope my discovery of internet invertebrate stores doesn't open a whole new can of worms (so to speak). My bug, a Tanzanian Giant Banded Tailless Whipscorpion, arrived today. He came tucked among the folds of some slightly damp paper towels inside a plastic container, which was inside another plastic container inside a box full of packing peanuts. He also came with his own lunch - an even smaller plastic container full of micro crickets. If you ever want to ship live bugs, take notes.
He is a small arachnid with impressively long front legs. He can fold them up so he doesn't trip over them when he walks. Like his name suggests, his legs are indeed banded. I fixed up a living space for him and fed him his lunch. He immediately sprang into action and gobbled up some crickets. Seeing his speed, I decided that I probably won't hold him much. He would be hard to catch if he got away.
In other invertebrate news, I found that I have competition in my efforts to collect dead bees in the museum garden. The Yellowjackets like to eat them. I saw one today munching away - "gorging themselves on the recently deceased," to paraphrase the hit song.

Outside, it is cool and pleasant. The leaves are starting to fall.

Animals spotted tonight: Did you guess skunks and egrets? Two of one and ten of the other.

cds, always cds: Finntroll "Jaktens Tid" (polka metal!), Amy Denio "Birthing Chair Blues", v/a "Tulikulkku", The (EC) Nudes "Vanishing Point", and Marta Gudrun Halldorsdottir & Orn Magnusson "Islensk Bjodlog" (this is an approximation, since there are no icelandic characters on my keyboard)... (like you care...)

Now: R. Carlos Nakai & William Eaton "Ancestral Voices"

I led my first farm tour of the season on Tuesday. They've smoothed out the dirt road leading into Hidden Villa, and covered it with some sort of dust retardant. Other than that, things haven't changed much. The gourd tunnel in the garden, which was just a wooden framework the last time I was on the farm, is now a mass of gourd vines. I crawled through with the kids, enjoying the earthy smell and the feel of dirt underneath my hands. We pulled up carrots and consumed them. One of the younger goats tried to eat my beard. I caught a rooster who, full of righteous indignation, pecked me and then started to crow. Perhaps he had forgotten to do this at dawn and was making up for lost time. The bees are back in the hive, and the kids crowded 'round to observe. Duckweed covers the pond, as it always does. This time nobody mistook it for a lawn. I still remember one boy who jumped right in, and spent the rest of the day rather moist. I found a large Jerusalem cricket under one of the little foot bridges. One boy really wanted to find tarantulas. He was disappointed. It's great to be back.

The nights are getting colder, and the air has that autumn smell. Smoke and memories.

Sophie likes the Louis Wain prints hanging up in the hall. She now says "cat" and will point at the pictures when asked where the cats are. We should always know where the cats are.

Cat is not sure about the man. The man is always trying to make friends. Silly man. Friends always must have food. Man has no food. When will man go away? Cat must prowl.

animals spotted: two skunks and twelve egrets. ...and Frankie the cat.

cds I listened to while being glad that the papers weren't three hours late again and that the rollover accident was on the other side of the freeway: Coil "Musick to Play in the Dark - Vol.2", Ethereal Travel "The Mad Cartridge", Fear of God "Within the Veil" and "Toxic Voodoo", and Kronos Quartet "Night Prayers"

Now: Joanne Shenandoah "Warrior in two Worlds" soundtrack

The newspapers were over three hours late tonight. "Electrical problems" It was refreshingly windy, and there was a nice crescent moon smiling down on me as I hurried along. My cd player is acting up on me. Time to go to bed.

Animals: two skunks up past their bedtime, and fifteen + egrets buffeted by the wind while they slept.

cds: Demi Semi Quaver "Golden Animal Head", Amy Denio/Pat Graney Dance Company "Tattoo", Amy Denio "Greatest Hits", Coil "Musick to Play in the Dark - vol.1"

now, to lull me to sleep: Time Machines

There it squats, in the darkness of our garage. It took three people, a pallet jack, and a large truck to get it here. It used to hold tropical fish, and it is lined with decorative rocks. It is made of plexiglass and has it's own metal stand, complete with an arcane assortment of wires and tubes... and a small, plush frog attached to a spring. We're thinking of setting it up in the backyard and putting tortoises in it. Temperate tortoises, of course, as tropical tortoises would get terribly cold, which would make them testy and temperamental.
These are the kind of fringe benefits I get from working at a children's museum. Of course, at the same time, they appear to have cut my hours. That makes two jobs with decreased hours. I really love the extra free time (which allows me to be typing this at 3:50 in the morning), but money is becoming a little more of an issue. I've started cutting down on my one real vice - buying cds. I've obviously got enough of them. It's the adrenaline rush of finding a new cd in the store that always traps me. Before I know it, I've spent a hundred dollars or more. I've decided to visit the cd stores less often. I don't know if I can quit cold turkey or not. That's probably not the wisest way to go about it. Maybe if I just stick to the limited issue cds - the ones that I won't be able to find later... Just social drinking... one more cigarette... I can quit any time... ha ha.

animals spotted tonight: one katydid, two skunks, and fifteen egrets.

cds that I didn't buy recently, but enjoyed nonetheless: Death In June "Cathedral of Tears", Deep Turtle "There's a Vomitsprinkler in my Liverriver" and "Rip-off Dokumento", Demi Semi Quaver - two different self-titled cds, one of which is an anthology collecting previous releases... I'm so confused. I wish I knew Japanese.

Now "hey, I bought it used! I'm saving money!: Joanne Shenandoah/Lawrence Laughing "Orenda"

The nights are getting cooler and a carpet of leaves is forming on the lawns and sidewalks. A crescent moon peeks between clouds. I find myself musing about all of the times people have been scared of me. There was a guy tonight who asked if he could use my electronic key fob to get into the gated community I was delivering to. Of course, he was standing in front of the only gate in the complex that foiled my fob. I told him that if he wanted to follow me into the parking garage, I'd let him in through the other door. He seemed reluctant to follow me, like he was afraid I was going to mug him. He kept a good amount of distance between us. Of course, maybe he wanted into the complex so he could rob people. Who knows. On another occasion, some time back, I was running through a different complex and a couple of women thought I was chasing them. I've never seen anybody run in high heels before or since. We must remember that not everybody who runs is out to get you, unless, of course, the person in question is a politician. They're all out to get us. There have been several other occasions when I've caught people off guard and startled the hell out of them. I've hit people in the legs with newspapers. A couple of times, I've raised my arm to throw a paper and people have thought I was about to hit them. I always feel a little bad. I know the fact that I always run the route and am usually dressed all in black means that people are going to be a bit wary of me, but if I slowed down and dressed all in white I would get home later and look absolutely filthy because of all the black newsprint all over my clothes.

Animals spotted tonight: three skunks, eleven egrets (one of them was partially awake!), and one very large slug (hey, somebody has to notice them).

cds I listened to while scaring people: Hot Buttered Xhol, Empyrium "A Wintersunset...", "Songs of Moors and Misty Fields", and "Where at Night the Wood Grouse Plays", Nordisk Sang - songs of Norway, and Death In June "Burial"

Now: Yoik - a presentation of Saami folk music (they're not kidding either - 195 yoiks, arranged geographically from south to north)

We're now licensed to be married. It only cost us $73. I hope they spend the money well. The haze outside was so thick this afternoon that the foothills were almost entirely obscured. That wouldn't be so bad if they weren't the in-walking-distance foothills. I hope they gain control of that fire soon. I had a dizzy spell coming home tonight too - probably from breathing the particulate-heavy air.

Animals spotted tonight: four egrets, all sleeping. A bunch of turtles. Okay, that's cheating - the turtles weren't out walking around. They were in a tank in the office space adjacent to ours. They were eating little cubes of krill, except for the one I was holding, who looked distressed that he was missing out on dinner time. I put him back quickly so he could join the feast.

cds I played a little more quietly so as not to wake the egrets: Death in June "The Guilty Have No Past", "Night and Fog", and "Oh How We Laughed", American Standard "s/t", and Xhol Caravan "Motherfuckers Live"

Now: Michael Nyman "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover" soundtrack

I was on my knees looking for dead bees, and I wasn't finding as many as I had expected to. The live bees were buzzing around my head, probably laughing inwardly at my efforts. The ground beneath the hive entrance used to be full of little bee corpses, due to the fact that bee funerals consist of unceremoniously dumping the deceased out the front door. I have a sneaking suspicion that they have switched their funeral arrangements and now fly the dead up to the inaccessible window ledge fifteen feet above the hive. I've seen countless dead bees outside that window, but cannot reach them. It's all Matt's fault. I'm not even sure what he wants the bees for. I left a cup in the cabinet with a sign on it: PLEASE DEPOSIT DEAD BEES IN CUP. Perhaps others will do my work for me.

The moon is bright, and the hills to the south are still burning. I hardly saw Jen at all today because we both had meetings to go to.

Animals spotted tonight: three skunks, and two egrets (fast asleep in trees)

cds listened to tonight: Strebers "Blod Svett & Tarar" (I don't know Swedish, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the title translates as "Blood, sweat, and tears" They even do a Nazareth cover. There's also a Nazareth cover on the cd Ryan gave me today. Thanks Ryan! One of the first records I ever bought was a Nazareth record. It had a skeletal demon holding a couple of straight-razors on the cover. I think that's why I bought it. My parents HATED it.), Elend "Les Tenebres du Dehors", Thomas Ligotti "This Degenerate Little Town", and Death in June "Kameradschaft"

now, sleepily: Townes Van Zandt "Texas Troubador" disc 3

Outside, the moon shines brightly down through a patchwork of white clouds, illuminating them and the landscape below. Stars peek through the breaks in the cloud cover. The eastern horizon is still obscured by smoke.

The new snake ate today. He had been eating small hamsters at his old home, so I was somewhat amused when I was sold a baby hamster at the pet store. I had asked for mice, but for some reason there was a hamster in the mouse cage. I bought a baby mouse too. The snake ate them both. Now he's watching me type this. I hope he doesn't get used to hamsters because I never get them on purpose. The first hamster I ever fed to a snake was given to me for free by a pet store because they figured nobody would buy it due to the fact that it had a nasty compound fracture. One of its leg bones was sticking out, which caused it to make a clicking sound when it walked. The boa I fed it to didn't care. The last time I brought home a hamster it was because it only had one eye. I was going to feed it to my Mangrove snake, but one of my housemates at the time put a stop to that. She got me to buy a cage for it, and all of a sudden my free hamster ended up costing somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty dollars. I can't remember what she named it. I called it "Winky". It lived for a couple of years.

I got pulled over again tonight. That makes it three times since I've started keeping this journal.
"I saw you throw something out your window."
"I saw you see me throw something out my window."
"You understand my concern then?"
"Yeah."

Animals spotted tonight: One large opossum, three skunks, and one egret. Oh, and a bunch of killdeer who like to sleep in the road and fly away peeping angrily when I almost run them over.

cds I listened to while throwing things out my windows: Infernal Proteus disc 4, Elend "Weeping Nights", Death in June "Something is Coming", Tiny Tim "Songs of an Impotent Troubador"

now: Michael Nyman "A Zed and Two Naughts"

The moon looked like it had been dipped in blood tonight. It was rising beyond the eastern hills, a couple of days past full (it was full on Jen's birthday) and corn yellow. When I first spotted it between buildings, the bottom sixth of it was grimy red, like an ugly scrape. I found it strangely beautiful.
This effect was caused by a layer of smoke moving northward from a fire down in the Morgan Hill area. I heard later on the radio that people were being evacuated. As far as I know, it is still burning. It is strange to think that something that can add beauty to the moon is wreaking havoc a few miles away. I'm sure countless lives are being consumed. The fact that they aren't human lives doesn't make them any less important. Every life has an equal right to exist. Being human, it is natural for us to place more importance on the lives of our fellow humans than on other life forms, but we're just one species among many. Fire doesn't discriminate.
The whole thing could have been started by something as simple as a smoldering cigarette butt. Is it too hard to extinguish and properly dispose of the damn things? What kind of ignoramus throws a lit cigarette out a car window without a thought about the possible consequences? Do I even have to answer that one? I participated in a beach cleanup a number of years ago and the most common item collected was... you guessed it - cigarette butts. It's bad enough that people smoke the damn things without throwing them all over the place. I wish I'd kept those garbage bags full of cigarette butts. It would have been fun to mail them back to the tobacco companies. Better yet, we could sneak in and stuff their water coolers full of them.
There are laws that make other companies responsible for their hazardous materials from "cradle to grave". I can't think of many things more hazardous than tobacco. I'd like to see all of those damn executives out there on the beaches in their nice suits, picking up cigarette butts with their soft little hands. I can see it now: their comb-overs are hanging in their faces, their ties are dragging in the sand, and the veins are standing out in their foreheads.

How's that for a runaway train of thought?

cds I listened to out under the bloody moon: Light Rain "Dream Dancer", and Infernal Proteus compilation, discs 1 to 3 (the dandelion wine should arrive soon)

currently, as I finish up my mushroom juice: Townes Van Zandt "Texas Troubador" disc two.

Friday found all five of us high in the Santa Cruz mountains for Lexy's school day camp. Jen got to do the same kind of work I do at the museum - facilitate activities for small children. Lexy, being one of the small children, did activities. Nathan, being an even smaller child, wandered off a lot. Sophie, being downright tiny, went dirt surfing. Of course, I had to help her dirt surf, which entailed holding her hands and running down a small dusty slope with her, letting her feet drag in the dirt. She made me do this again and again until my back hurt. Then we did it some more. We all got home dirty and tired.
The next day we all went off to the renaissance faire with our moms. It was Jen's birthday, and Lexy got Jason to buy flowers for her hair. Lexy got to be St. George in a play. Nathan wandered off a lot. Lexy and I, for a nominal fee, threw tomatos at a privateer, but didn't hit him. Our moms got tired out and went home early. Jason and Stacy took the kids on a ride so Jen and I could get a bit of time to ourselves. I bought a shirt to wear at the wedding, and an interesting reed instrument that sounds like the bastard child of a crumhorn and a bagpipe. Jen bought some cool paper. We got some incense too. Wearing renaissance costumes while talking on a cell phone is a bit incongruous. I reflected on the fact that many people seem to spend a lot of time escaping from the present. The distant past and the distant future can be romanticized quite easily. When past and future collide, they create the roadkill that is the present. Deep. We all got home dirty and tired.
These two days just whipped by, and it always seems that Jen and I don't get enough time to just be together. It really is all about the kids. Sunday, when the kids were at their dad's, we could have had a day together, but I ended up on an OAC related mission to Felton, hiking into the woods in the company of Matt and Greg, with musical instruments in tow. A fly flew up Greg's nose. I laughed. A fly flew down my throat. I spent five minutes trying to cough it back up. Matt inhaled a spider web. We arrived at a suitably isolated spot and sat down to record some "music". My new instument was missing its reed, which meant that it had jumped ship somewhere between Matt's house and the little creekside patch of ferns we had settled down in. We used other instruments. On the way back I found the reed on the trail. Then Matt read his new long story, which has a segment where a large man chokes on a gnat.
I got home too late to spend much time with Jen before the kids got home. Maybe if we can figure out a way to not need sleep. We still have so many things to do in the next month.

cds that I listened to while reflecting on the fact that I have to stop buying so many cds because I really can't afford it: Death In June "Take Care and Control", G.I.S.M. "s/t" (semi-bootleg anthology), Lo'Jo "Au Cabaret Sauvage", Goran Bregovic (another Greek title - you'd think he was Greek. He isn't), and Stellamara "Star of the Sea"

Now: Townes Van Zandt "For the Sake of the Song"

So, no doubt due to my rant yesterday about turning off lights, the power went out earlier. I was at the pet store with the three kids. Sophie was doing her best to wallop the store cat as he tried in vain to sleep on the counter. The woman behind the counter extended me credit for my purchases, since for some reason they didn't have a backup plan for dealing with credit card transactions sans power. We then went home. The hognose snake tried to eat me again. When is he going to learn that he can never get past the top knuckle on my finger? When Jen got home from Whole Foods we all ended up outside, as did a number of other people on the block. Mike, our next-door neighbor, commented that the only good thing about power outages is that they get people out of their houses. I guess it's hard to continue watching TV when the screen is a black square of emptiness (of course, I'm of the opinion that it is always a black square of emptiness, even when there's color and movement). Mike's girlfriend Sue brought out her violin and later her cello. Lexy raided our music basket and brought out a harmonica, drum, and a native american flute. I went in and got a recorder. We sat outside and fiddled around on the instruments. It's the first time I've ever picked up a functioning violin or cello. It was fun. I'm not going to win any awards for my skill anytime in the coming century though. Jen used the time to clean out the van and rake the front yard. Sophie and Nathan used the time to get absolutely soaked in the sprinklers. When we finally went in, we lit a bunch of candles and stressed out about what to eat. I had an apple. Jen had just finished making a bunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when the power came back on. We ate them and blew out the candles.
I still don't know why the power went out. Who cares? It was a break from the routine.

I've seen the same cockroach three nights in a row this week. He stands around on the sidewalk in this apartment complex on Evelyn avenue in Sunnyvale. When I pass by, he hunkers down like he's afraid I'm going to stomp on him. It's horrible what centuries of persecution will do to an insect. I'm sure he's a quivering bundle of nerves every time somebody walks by.

cds I listened to while avoiding the roaches: Earth Trumpet "Roman" (a double cd, but one of them is blank. ???), Operator Generator "s/t", Robert Rich "Seven Veils", Death in June "Heilige!", and Yuri Yunakov Ensemble "New Colors in Bulgarian Wedding Music"

Now: Current 93 "Soft Black Stars" (speaking of weddings...)

In the early dawn of the human race, people probably spent a lot of time around the communal fire. This afforded them protection as well as warmth. Here in the late afternoon of the human race, we rarely sit around fires. I think the need to do this is still inside us, buried deep in archetypal memory. I always feel at peace when I sit by a fire. Unfortunately, the human race has replaced fire. We now light up the night with electricity. Nearly every building is awash with light, inside and out. Buzzing streetlights, like strange sentinels, line the roads. Billboards scream brightly into the night, selling their wares to nobody. The stars above can usually be counted on the fingers of one hand. The night is so bright that sometimes people forget to turn their headlights on as they drive. It seems to me that this is a stupendous waste of energy. The "authorities" run ads, usually narrated by some precocious little kid, telling us to turn off lights when leaving the room. Why then do CEOs and other business types get away with leaving ALL OF THE LIGHTS ON when they leave for the night? Why do we need to light every corner of the world? Are we still afraid of wild animals attacking and eating us if we stray too far from the fire? Or is it all about our stuff? We're afraid that other people are going to take our stuff, so we bathe our surroundings in bright light and hire people to patrol our business complexes. How sad. Stuff. Not people.
In the residential areas there is just as much light. Added to this is the brightness that flickers behind drawn curtains and sucks the brains out of insomniacs.
I remember driving through Silicon valley one night during a power outage. It was beautiful, like being surrounded by half-seen alien architecture. I wish it would happen more often.

I arrived at one of these brightly lit, multi-storied business complexes earlier this evening at the same time as the New York Times carrier. We tossed our papers up onto the second floor almost in unison, provoking somebody above to bellow like a startled chimp. Some poor janitor, no doubt, caught in a crossfire of the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal. At least he didn't throw them back down at us. The fact that all the lights were on is immaterial.

cds I listened to while shielding my eyes against the glare: Mia Doi Todd "The Golden State" (so good that I don't care that it's on a major label and that most of the songs are re-recorded versions of songs from her previous releases), Crisis "We are all Jews and Germans", Tin Hat Trio "The Rodeo Eroded" (the best band we've ever surprised in London), Death in June "Ostenbraun", and Deadweight "Half-wit Anthems"

now: Downriver "Rememory"

Jen and I got T.B. tests today so that we can work at Lexy's school. Let's hear it for parent participation! ...and not infecting the little ones with tuberculosis. After this, and a bit of whining, we made our way up to Almaden Quicksilver park, which covers a lot of acreage in the nearby foothills. We hiked up a fire trail. The day was clear and blue, with a few clouds here and there. It's been a little cooler this week, but it is by no means cold yet. Sophie was content to be carried for a portion of the hike, but spent a lot of time twisting around in my arms in an attempt to get down. She wanted to forge some new paths down the mountainside, so we had to keep a close eye on her.
We saw a Red-tailed hawk circling over a burned area off to our left as we climbed. It flew over our heads and disappeared up over the trees. The scent of sage, with an undercurrent of bay leaf, was strong in the air. Nathan delighted in kicking up dust. Lexy, after his initial worries about rattlesnakes abated, wanted to get to the top. We went far enough to discover a crossroads, from which several much longer trails branched off into the wilderness. Sophie got down and stumbled around happily. Jen and I breathed in the air and made plans to come back.
On the way down, we discovered a lone tarantula making his slow way across the trail. We knelt down and examined him. He did his best to walk around my hands and be about his business. Sophie tried to get down so she could play too. The tarantula finally made it to the other side of the trail and carefully picked his way into the brown grass. We carefully picked our way back to the van.
Earlier in the day, I had talked to Garth (from Hidden Villa) about spiders. He had found a website that debunked the popularly held notion that daddy longlegs (not really spiders anyway) were highly venomous but lacked sufficient jaw strength to deliver it. They're not venomous. He also said that there have been no confirmed reports of Brown Recluses in the Bay Area. This is good, but it means that the bites that have been attributed to Brown Recluses may be from something else equally nasty. I'm going back to Hidden Villa in a couple of weeks. It has always been a good place to find tarantulas. The small ones are a bit grouchy though. I remember once picking up a smallish tarantula after carefully calming it down. It had been standing on its back legs and showing off its fangs. I had just gotten it calmed down and was holding it in my hand when the school group I had been leading crowded around to get a better look. This scared the tarantula. It resumed it's aggressive posture and began lunging at my palm. This scared the kids. Curiously enough, its fangs never made contact with my skin. It was bluffing! Hell of a way to find out though.

cds that got me through the night: Ani DiFranco "So Much Shouting/So Much Laughter" (has a must-hear poem about 9/11), Elend "Lecons de Tenebres", and G-anx "Flashbacks"

Now, as I finish my tea and blow my nose: Goran Bregovic - dammit, the title is in Greek. Such is life. Note: I resisted saying "it's all Greek to me". oops. No I didn't.

It is starting to feel more and more like autumn. I can smell it in the air - a cool, smoky odor. The moon shone down icy bright tonight, fading to a baleful yellow as I headed homeward. I started the evening off by throwing a paper which knocked the plastic cover from a stairwell light, causing it to bounce down the stairs. I never stick around to see if anybody wakes up. That would be silly of me. People who get awakened by clattering on the outside landing are usually grouchy. At least it wasn't glass. Sometimes it takes the building maintenance people weeks to replace them. Every once in awhile I manage to take out the lightbulb too. That's noisy.
Later, I saw a really dedicated landscaping guy doing some midnight watering. He must have had some sort of self-contained water supply because I didn't see a hose. He acted furtively when he saw me, like he didn't want me to see his secret water supply. I'm sure that hedge benefitted from his attentions though.
The skunks were out in force as well. It seemed as if every other lawn had one. They like to root around in the grass for food. I had a sudden wish for a skeleton key so I could let them into the nearby office buildings. It sure would liven up the day for those poor diurnal drudges. It makes me wonder where all of those skunks go when the sun comes up. It's a pretty developed area. I suppose they occasionally give somebody a funny surprise.
I didn't drink a soda at one in the morning like I usually do. I've become so reliant on caffeine that I don't always know when I'm tired. The older I get, the more the idea of putting chemicals (like the kind found in diet soda) into my body bothers me. I'm not even sure if I even enjoy drinking the stuff. It's just a habit. Like a lot of the things I ingest, I take them for granted. Ramble ramble ramble.

cds I listened to while drinking water: Amber Asylum "The Supernatural Parlour Collection", Death In June presents Occidental Martyr, Townes Van Zandt "Live at the Old Quarter, Houston, Texas", Death In June "The Wall of Sacrifice", and v/a Death in June/Der Blutharsch/Forseti/Non cd that was given away at some show in Europe but since I wasn't at said show was purchased by me for too much money and I'm not sure if it was really worth it.

Currently smelling one of those autumn scented candles and listening to: Kayah/Bregovic

Greg and I went south this weekend for the annual Monterey world music festival. This year's festival was given the title of "Global Consonances" and was supposed to "promote cultural awareness through music". It also, it turned out, helped promote patience through understanding that portable generators are often unreliable. But enough griping. I was happy to see that not only was there intercultural awareness being promoted, but interspecies awareness as well. Take, for example, the guy sitting in front of us. He was a fly. I don't know why he decided to sit in one of the folding chairs. Perhaps he wanted to show that we're all in this together. He showed extreme patience during the power outages that made the Yuri Yunakov Ensemble become unwillingly acoustic at several points during their show. He probably appreciated the fact that the accordian player looked (and sounded) like an extra from an Emir Kusturica film. He had to have enjoyed the frenetic Balkan wedding music that the Ensemble produced.
In addition to the fly, there were a number of caterpillars in attendance. They jostled for prime seats in the trees above us. This, unfortunately, often resulted in somebody losing his or her grip on a branch and tumbling onto the human audience. I narrowly missed having a bit of extra protein in my drink. Maybe they kept falling because they were dancing. Who knows?
The fly waited patiently for the second band (the dubiously monikered Lo'Jo) to begin. They started their set, but the power went out and stayed out. To add insult to injury, some woman sat down on the fly's chair, nearly squashing him. He made it to the edge of the chair and spent a couple of minutes deciding what to do. He finally resigned himself to the fact that he would have to sit somewhere else, and flew away.
After about an hour, which we spent putting more money in the meter and watching a large seal trounce a hapless fish while fending off seagulls, Lo'Jo resumed their set. A new generator had been brought from somewhere. One of the musicians had a cute little instrument that looked like the bastard offspring of a violin and a tambourine. He played it with a bow that resembled the letter "D". There were also Koras, violins, contrabass, drums, male and female vocals, and an assortment of keyboards. I hope the fly found another vantage point from which to take it all in.
Then of course there was Garmarna, and like the little dancing girl said: they rocked. The light was fading and it was getting cold. The fog was drifting in. The hurdy gurdy wailed in protest. More caterpillars lost their footing. Little girls danced. Old new-agers danced. Emma was wearing a superman shirt. Her vocals and stage presence were serene, in counterpoint to the less than serene antics of her bandmates. The descending darkness, lonesome flying birds, and encroaching fog provided a perfect backdrop. Further description is needless. Go buy their cds.

Speaking of cds: The Gaia "777 (1991-1997)", Joanne Shenandoah "s/t", Neko Case "Canadian Amp", Death In June "Discriminate", and Kemialliset Ystavat "Suurempi Pieni Palatsi"

Now: Jim O'Rourke "Tamper"

At first, Mr. Policeman wanted to know why I was driving in circles. I explained to him the logistics of following a route, which occasionally makes it look like I'm doubling back on myself. He seemed somewhat satisfied by this answer. Then, as he handed back my license, he told me to watch for other cars and use my turn signals. That made me mad. I always use my turn signals, even if I don't see any other cars. It's like Mr. Policeman had a little script he was reading from. I told him, "I was using my turn signals."
His response was, "well, uh, kinda slow down, alright?"
What flabby way of trying to get a point across! Does the inclusion of the word "kinda" mean I should slow down some of the time but not always? Maybe it means I have the option of slowing down should I decide I'm getting tired of speeding. Or maybe I should drive like the kid who was in my high school drivers ed. class. This kid, who was a bit more nervous than the rest of us, had a unique way of driving. He would alternate between the gas pedal and the brake pedal in such a fashion that the car would jolt down the street like a scared lizard. Stopstartstopstartstop. Maybe this is what "kinda slow down" means. I think I'll try it. I'll send the bill for my brakes to the police station.

cds I kinda listened to while I kinda drove fast and kinda used my turn signals: Warfare "Metal Anarchy: the best of...", Dead Can Dance "Into the Labyrinth" and "Within the Realm of a Dying Sun", Drawn "Plan Be", and Tiny Tim "Live in London"

Now: Gabriel Yared "Map of the Human Heart" soundtrack

I accidently used the term "vacant lot" the other day as we passed a small corner of land that had all the symptoms of imminent development. Then I remembered that any patch of ground that boasts flora (no matter how scraggly and yellow) and fauna (no matter how small and chitinous) is never truly vacant. When developers come in and tear all of the existing life out so they can plop down some cookie-cutter condo or office building, the lot goes from being full of life to a state that more nearly reflects my interpretation of the word "vacant". All of the fields I played in as a child are now vacant. More of them disappear everyday. What can we do? I think one clever thing we could do is to fill all of the remaining fields with owls. I'm not just talking any owls here. I'm talking Burrowing owls. Burrowing owls are a threatened species. Environmental Impact Reports have to be filed for new developments. Building on land that houses threatened species is a big no-no. Of course, this isn't a realistic plan of action. Being a threatened species, Burrowing owls shouldn't be hustled all over the place on a whim. Instead, we could collect some owl pellets, and dig some "owl" holes on sites in danger of enforced vacancy. I like the idea of a condo being nixed because of a few clumps of hair, bone, and owl spit. It could happen...

cds I listened to on a night that started out pretty darn Indian and later on became less so: Buffy Sainte-Marie "Best of...Vol.2", John Trudell "Johnny Damas and Me", Flux of Pink Indians "Not So Indian", and Dead Can Dance "Toward the Within"

now, as I try once again to get this darn computer to behave: Angelo Badalamenti "La Cite des Enfants Perdus" soundtrack

Jen and I braved the wilds of East San Jose today to get some fabric for her wedding dress. We were joined by Jen's mom and Jane (who used to live in the room I'm typing this in and is making the dress). The man at the counter undercharged us. It wasn't until we were headed back home that one of the area's notorious elderly christian women attempted to do us in. She tried to run us off the road, which no doubt was a prelude to some sort of further assault. We'll never know. Her nefarious plan failed. This attempt on our lives left me both frustrated and glad. I was frustrated that the horn doesn't work, and glad that the kids weren't in the van to hear the wildly inappropriate language I used. Another disturbing thing about these thuggish individuals is their complete lack of remorse. At the next stoplight I tried to make eye-contact with her. What did she do? She coldly looked away, as if we were beneath her notice. Such evil must be stopped!

The second near miss came much later on, and involved a possum. The little fellow must have been concentrating really hard. I could tell by the way his tail was curled up. They only do that when wrapping their brains around extremely vexing problems. My slamming on the brakes and swerving didn't even break his concentration. He just kept on toddling across the street without even acknowledging me.

On a different subject - A co-worker mentioned that he had been pulled over because his car was throwing up sparks. He didn't have to tell me why. I remember my car doing that once. If you don't change your tires often enough, they get bald. If you continue to ignore them, the metal tread sticks out and, when it comes into contact with the asphalt, causes sparks. If a person were that bald, there would be bits of skull showing through.

On a more serious note: In a few more hours it will have been exactly a year since I was awakened by Jen knocking on my window to tell me that the World Trade center was burning. A lot of people died that day. These people were doing their jobs. Unfortunately, other people, who aren't doing their jobs very well, used this tragedy as an excuse to kill even more people. Now they are arguing that even more people need to be killed. I guess the term "cycle of violence" doesn't mean much to those in charge.
I've got more to say but I'll stop there for now. Just remember that the life of an Afghani civilian is no less precious than that of a U.S. civilian. ...or anyone else, for that matter. Why do so many people seem to think otherwise, and what the hell is wrong with them?
I was amused to learn today that they've put Cheney back into hiding, but they're letting the Bush stay visible. Oh, and the Florida Bush's daughter was caught with crack. If I were her, I'd probably be smoking crack too.

On a less serious note: Somebody made Bubba Ho-Tep into a movie! It played at the Toronto film festival! I heard all about it on the radio. They announced the plot summary thusly: Elvis fighting a mummy in a nursing home in Texas. Bubba Ho-Tep! The movie! Joe R. Lansdale is a great man.

cds I listened to while avoiding possums: Buffy Sainte-Marie "Little Wheel Spin and Spin", Diamond Head "Singles", Plasmatics "Coup de Grace", and Flag of Democracy "Hate Rock"

now: Jorunn Vidar "Unglingurinn I Skoginum"

As I left the house this evening, there was an enormous crescent moon descending in the northwest. It was one of those nights where you could see the outline of the whole moon behind the glare of the crescent. It looked like a celestial fingernail. It's made of cheese. We all know that.
Cheese is one of my comfort foods. Sometimes I feel that a meal isn't really a meal unless it has cheese. My other main comfort foods are ice cream and coffee. I could say pizza too, but that would be like putting cheese on the list twice. Comfort foods bring ritual into our lives. It elevates eating to a level that doesn't have anything to do with nourishment. Of course, one could argue that foods like ice cream and coffee don't have anything to do with nourishment no matter how you look at them. I wish that I could latch onto a comfort food of higher nutritional value. Does that ever happen? Maybe I should train myself to ingest avocados in times of duress. Perhaps I could wolf down a salad every night before going to work.
My pets have developed some interesting food preferences. The iguana ate some of Lexy's leftover chicken today, while ignoring the much more wholesome peas on the plate next to it. The Water monitor ate most of a piece of toast a couple of weeks ago. The millipede will scrape dead skin off of human hands and eat it. Yum! Crickets will do that too. It's a very interesting feeling to have a cricket perched on the tip of your finger, chewing on the accumulated grime under your fingernail. When I was a kid I had an Anole who liked those little pink and white after-dinner mints.

Speaking of rituals and comfort, Sophie has a comfort corner. Whenever she's upset about something, I take her to this corner where one wall has a mirror and the other has a picture of myself, Jen, and Sophie. All I have to do is ask, "where's Sophie?" and she calms down and starts pointing. She'll either point to her reflection or to the picture. Jen says it works because it's something I always do. It has become a calming ritual. ...and it's much healthier than eating ice cream or twinkies or cookies.

...and speaking of food:

Cat sits by the food bowl and waits. Perhaps somebody will drop new food into it. Here comes somebody now. Does he have food. No, alas! It is the Crazy Running Guy. Cat has forgotten. Almost every night the Crazy Running Guy comes running up and throws something at Cat. Cat does not know what he throws. Crazy Running Guy always misses and the object always lands on the landing two stories above Cat. Cat does not take chances. He always runs away from his food bowl. He hopes that Crazy Running Guy does not steal his food. Even though the food is old, it is still Cat's food, and he is protective of it. So far, Crazy Running Guy has left Cat's food alone, but one never knows... Cat wishes that Crazy Running Guy would slow down and not throw things. Just looking at all of that activity makes Cat tired.

cds I listened to while stuffing my face with great ginger snap cookies and feeling comforted: Mirror "Solaris" (thanks Troy!), Dead Can Dance "Spiritchaser", Amber Asylum "The Natural Philosophy of Love", and Laibach "Rekapitulacija"

cd I'm listening to while finishing my tea: Hector Zazou "Songs from the Cold Seas"

Weekends are like mirages. You can see them at a distance, but when you get up close: poof! they vanish. Now it's monday again. I can smell autumn in the air - brown grass, falling leaves, and woodsmoke. The Transit Rider has come and gone (for now, anyway) and has left smiles and a couple of misappropriated rails in its wake. Maybe it will return in January and in June. Friday night, on the way home, I heard a stumble-tongued radio announcer mistakenly refer to the town of Milpitas as "Milpenis". I'll bet he's still living that one down. Some people never graduate from high school even though they graduate from high school, if you catch my drift.

Today was my last day at the museum for a couple of weeks. They're shutting down for their annual renovations. The Alice in Wonderland exhibit is traveling on to another town, only to be replaced by "that horrible Arthur exhibit". Boing! is coming back as well. The last time it was here I sliced open my finger while preparing supplies for the craft part of the exhibit. I left a trail of blood through the museum and they made me go get stitches. I couldn't even get away from it while on vacation. Greg and I went into the Austin children's museum and there it was, mocking me. On the bright side, the new water exhibit should be finished sometime next year.
I brought the python today. He fell asleep under the honeysuckle arbor.

cds I listened to so I didn't have to hear pottymouth radio announcers: Sylvi Alli "Too Near the Ghosts", Ramona the Pest "Little Knives", Current 93 "Maldoror is Dead", Amber Asylum "Frozen in Amber", Low "Paris '99 - Anthony Are You Around?" (thanks Matt!), and Dead Can Dance "A Passage in Time"

now: Zbigniew Preisner "The Decalogue" Melancholy and beauty are one and the same... if done right.

"Perilous to us all are the devices of an art deeper than we possess ourselves"

Gandalf

We'd better listen to him. He's a wizard. Wizards know more than us. Of course, I'm being hypocritical. I'm typing this on a computer, and earlier I was out driving around in my car. The devices of most things I use are beyond my understanding.

And now onto other things. Sophie has a new(ish) game which involves grabbing noses. You have to make a honking sound while she's clutching your nose. This is pure comedy. Of course, she's also amused by flailing wildly at faces. We try not to act amused by this one. We don't want to encourage violence. On the positive side, she knows how to kiss now. This is accomplished by opening her mouth really wide, and diving at your face.

And finally, the further adventures of Cat:

Cat must guard excavation project. He sits in parking lot and thinks about who or what would want to interrupt excavation. Excavation is being handled by Skunk. Cat feels somewhat redundant. Skunk is pretty good at guarding things on his own. Maybe Skunk requires assistance because while his head is in the hole he can't see potential trouble.
Neither animal knows that the hole is being dug in the lawn of the office frequented by a man with the unfortunate name of Butts. Butts, when he arrives at work, will probably wonder where the hole came from. Butts has probably never seen Skunk. Skunk, like all reasonable animals, sleeps during the day.

Cds listened to while pondering the cryptic words of wizards: Danielle Dax "Blast the Human Flower", The Fixtures "Devil's Playground" and "One Crisis Short of Chaos", Buffy Sainte-Marie "Quiet Places", Eleni Karaindrou "Eternity and a Day", Cybele "Songs of Soil" and Destruction "All Hell Breaks Loose"

Currently wondering if I'm related to: Popol Vuh "Tantric Songs/Hosianna Mantra"

Cat must go to the place where the rats frolic up and down the handrails and dance on the welcome mats. One last obstacle remains. The light is red. Cat waits. The light turns green. Cat steps into the crosswalk and starts walking fast. The little red hand is blinking. Cat walks faster. The light turns yellow, then red. Cat isn't all the way across yet. Cars start to move. Cat turns around and runs back to the corner. Cat sits down on the corner and waits patiently for the light to turn green again.

Cds Cat didn't listen to: Coroner "Grin", Cruachan "The Middle Kingdom" and "Ride On", Neko Case "Blacklisted" (Jen would like this one. I'll have to play it for her), Cybele "Brightly Blackhearted", Damon & Naomi "Playback Singers", and Danielle Dax "Timber Tongue"

and here I am typing away and listening to: irr. app. (ext.) "ozeanische Gefuhle"

I think it worries the frog.

They're going to release some California condors at the Pinnacles National Monument. Hooray! Every time I see any kind of animal in the wild, it nourishes my spirit. That applies double for birds with 9-foot wingspans and a preference for rotting flesh. I'm glad that through the efforts of captive breeding programs they're maintaining a toe-hold on existence.
I saw a possum tonight. They don't look both ways before crossing the road. I remember once spilling a perfectly good soda into my lap while braking to avoid crushing one of these single-minded little creatures. I got to thinking about it, though, and realized that no animals, present company excepted, look both ways before crossing the street. That would explain why roadkill is most often of the four-legged variety. What is it then about possums that makes me remark that they don't look both ways? It's like they're concentrating on a point about six inches in front of their beady little eyes. They're concentrating so hard on this point that the rest of the world becomes a secondary concern. Why they do this I do not know.
A while back I almost hit a possum with a newspaper. He got so pissed off that he charged at my car. I must have broken his concentration. Maybe he was on the verge of some epiphany, and I came along and wrecked it all for him with my careless newspaper tossing.

cds that I played a little softer than usual so as not to disturb the possums: Songs: Ohia "Ghost Tropic", Eleni Karaindrou "Ulysses' Gaze", Coroner "s/t", and Annbjorg Lien "Aliens Alive"

Now, still quietly: R. Carlos Nakai "Canyon Trilogy"

One of the first places many children share is around a public train table. The tracks are glued down, and all of the cool Thomas the Tank Engine trains are already missing. The amount of cars each child is allowed is three. Many children are used to having exlusive playing rights to all of their toys. Here at the train table they learn that this is not always so. Many become stricken with shock and react with red-faced, screaming tantrums when they are asked to share. At this stage positive parent involvement is crucial.
I was talking to a couple of parents today who related to me a disturbing story. A mom at another museum not only had been spotted not requiring her child to share, but being actively involved in increasing his horde of train cars. The other kids stood around with no trains, or at most, maybe one, while this kid hauled his enormous train around the tracks. The effects of this kind of parenting on a young person could be disasterous.
I got to thinking that maybe George Bush's parents let him horde trains, and their parents before them probably did the same thing. It's a vicious cycle, if not broken by some strong individual. If it is extrapolated out to an international level, it becomes downright scary. The U.S. already has most of the world's supply of trains, but is constantly stealing trains from others. We took all the trains from Central America, and Afghanistan, and it looks like we're about to go back into Iraq to grab their last few trains (The ones that the big Bush left behind last time). I think the big Bush has been letting that one really bother him. He really likes his trains, and his impressionable youngster wants to make daddy happy.

A train in the hand is worth everything to a Bush. Is that how the old saying goes?

And why the hell does the Early Childhood Center at my museum have a children's book written by Dick Cheney's wife? That scares me. I didn't dare actually read it, but I bet it's all about how to take trains from other kids.

written to the tune of : Tiny Tim "Songs of an Impotent Troubadour" Of course.

I drew the tree for our wedding invitation today. Lexy came in with some paper of his own and we spent some time sitting on the bed and drawing together. He was drawing a sky, a process which necessitated sharpening and re-sharpening the blue pencil. I was drawing a tree; twin-trunked and evergreen. Jen is going to do the layout over the next couple of days. Lexy had a good time just sitting and drawing with me, even if he's a little down on himself over his artistic abilities. I told him I'd had longer to practice. I also showed him an Andy Goldsworthy book that I'd picked up over the weekend. I wanted to point out that there are other kinds of art besides drawing and painting. He seemed really impressed. It's good to see him stop bouncing off the walls for a minute and do something relaxing. He told me that he wants to be three things when he grows up: an architect, a rock star, and a paperboy. It's interesting how kids don't really differentiate between jobs based on the perceived status of their various choices. I know, of course, he said "paperboy" because that's one of the jobs I do. When I was his age, I wanted to drive bulldozers. This gave way to a desire to become a paleontologist. I also wanted to mount an expedition to search for the Loch Ness Monster. I even had a list of people (since forgotten) who I wanted to take with me. I wonder how many people actually grow up to have the jobs they dreamed about as kids? Who knows? At any rate, it was good to have a little one on one time with Lexy. He's at his best under these circumstances. We'll have to do it more often, if we can.

I saw two skunks tonight. Both of them ran from me. This is good. Once, when Matt and I were sneaking around in Coyote Hills, a skunk, irate at our intrusion, chased us. It's tail was up, and it was running sideways in its eagerness to douse us with skunk juice. I'm glad most skunks are more sensible than this.

cds I listened to while being careful not to run over skunks: Sol Invictus "Brugge" (mine came with a coaster!), Eleni Karaindrou "Music for Films", Stoa "Zal", Dalbello "Whore", and Damon & Naomi "More Sad Hits"

The room is currently awash with the sounds of: Christoph Heemann - in Concert, March 6th, 1999, Tonic, NYC

The map showed that the road Chad and I were following continued in a straight line. We began to doubt the veracity of this as the asphalt ended, and the rutted dirt path began. The dirt slowly turned to mud as we progressed. Above us, some of the gray sky drifted down in soft mist. Around us, the mute landscape was dotted with shacks and the rusted hulks of old automobiles. We finally decided that we had made a wrong turn and backtracked, bumping back onto the asphalt and taking a left at the first intersection. A short while later, we arrived at the expected intersection. The map makers had just depicted an ironed-out version of the road, not deeming it worthwhile to indicate some bends and turns that seemed pretty major to us. I guess we shouldn't have been too surprised.
We turned left and headed deeper into the morning quiet of the Pine Ridge reservation. We arrived at our destination soon afterwards. The monument we pulled up next to was a simple, green roadside plaque, describing the massacre at Wounded Knee - a massacre that was just one more example of what fear and greed can provoke. We spent some time reflecting on the past, and more time reflecting on the present. Across the street and up a slight hill was a small graveyard. We walked up to it and along the small rows of overgrown graves. The world was quiet. The world was very quiet here.
Back down by the monument, if monument it can be called, another car pulled up, and a man got out to read about what fear does to people. We approached him as we angled back towards my car. He snapped out of his reverie and looked at us.
"It kind of makes you ashamed to be an American," he said with a last glance at the sign.
"I've never been proud to be an American," replied Chad.

What is it with the whole concept of being "proud" to be an American? I thought pride was what a person feels when looking back on some sort of accompishment. How many of us had to work at being Americans? That would only apply to people who immigrate here from other countries. The bumper stickers and t-shirts would be more truthful if they read "grateful to be American". Catch-phrases, slogans, and tattered flags on antennas seem to have replaced thought and compassion. It's really too bad. The concept of accountability is also very obviously among the missing. Maybe it's buried in a small grave somewhere, along with patience and reverence. And countless others.

and no, struggling in the birth canal doesn't count as work.

Music strengthens the spirit...and provides a soundtrack for my words: Maja Elliott "Truth"