excuses, excuses

· still breathing

learning at a furious pace how to build and manage large-scale web sites and researching content-management systems so i can streamline the whole publishing aspect of the web and make it easier to wail. at first, the mere existence of the net and the *relative* ease of posting to the web (even via telnet and ftp) compared with other forms of publishing was enough to elicit reams and reams of words and phrases and sentences and paragraphs from me on a regular basis. but it didn’t stay easy enough or get easier fast enough, somehow, and now the slightest nuisance deters me from putting it out there.

meanwhile the backlog grows.

watch over the next few months as i systematically remove obstructions – methodological, systematic, and mental – and then no amount of complaining about how much work i have to do and how many demands i and everybody else are putting on me will stem the flow.


i just figured out i can afford a digital camera.

kill the narrator

· still breathing

Kill the narrator. He talks too much.

You talk too much. (You never shut up.)

Shut up “shuttin’ up.”

(Good for dialog)


maybe that;s why dead narrators

tell the best stories?

“…then they kilt me.”


Just relaxing and being yourself

puts you at the head of the pack.


couple on BART overaccessorized,

semi shaved one-dangly-earring depending

boots and a good color scheme – brick red

but faded, glasses like mine, great

profile, leone-cowboy hairdresser

he, she the good yoko, asian master

of western taste, subtleties, nuance,

stars of their own movies but ultimately

not a story i care to tell (so what?)

visions of excess and restraint

· still breathing

something rare for me happened a few nights ago: i dreamed about jerry garcia. now, some deadheads have these kinds of dreams all the time (and especially dreams of being at shows), but not me. i’ve only had the “intimate show” dream once or twice and never a “talking to the celebrity just like a friend” visitation. he didn’t look great, plus even though we were sort of walking along talking, i had the famous front-on view, and i noticed his hairline receding even though the hair was more black than gray: kind of a hybrid of tommy-chong era jerry with touch of grey era jerry. don’t remember what we talked about but near the end i welled up with tears because, as i told him, “you’re going to die soon.” so what was my mind trying to tell me?

yesterday i had lunch with my friend jeff green, writer of the GreenSpeak column in the back of Computer Gaming World magazine. walking down market on the way back from the burrito place where we et, we both spotted r. crumb’s ascetic brother sitting in the lotus position, looking distressed (but maybe he always looks that way) and talking to someone standing, leaning over him. when we got past earshot i said to jeff, “do you know who that was?” and of course he did. i guess anyone who saw the documentary about crumb would. we joked about having seen a movie star. as my brother likes to quote a homeless man he met in new york once, “You in the city now.”

epiphanies on the cheap

· still breathing

sitting here still with a stiff neck that just won’t go away. got home and went to the backyard to chill. cat came by and we communed for a while. i finally let her sit on my lap some. kept thinking b was home but it was other car doors closing up and down the block. the garden is in an amazing state of fecundity at the moment. the banksia rose bush/canes are overflowing in orgasmic bliss. one amazing shot only a handful of micrometers wide: a tiny yellow rose blossom already died on the vine and dried in the recent heatwave, next to a candelabra of five to eight buds just about to push themselves out and bloom, probably tomorrow. life and death on the same branch of the same plant, where elsewise there are thick bushels of roses all budding in an communal extended family, and only children equally happy with their own patches of sun.

it’s cooled off today, finally, but i still quaffed a beer in short order. not to cool off but to dumb down. fares to new orleans just dropped, at least on delta, so it looks like we saved about four hundred bucks by waiting. now we got to make our reservations at the plantation/b&b in mississippi we’ve had our eye on for the few days between jazzfest weekends.

i'm melting

· still breathing

incredible heat and not enough time to do all the things that need to be done. got my fixer ticket signed by one of two oakland motorcycle cops busy rousting a somnolent bearded derilect folded up at the base of a lamppost near the big grand “theft” auto on park boulevard and 18th. now, i still need to bring (or mail) the damn thing into alameda county court in berkeley by the 4th, along with some unspecified fee. all because a bulb burned out before it’s time in the right rear bumper of mr. bean. actually, it just passed 24,000 miles and i’m due for my next “cronos care” visit.

working in the office all weekend getting some eMatter (think small eBook) packaged for mightywords. when deadlines approach, i become very inventive with the hardware and software failures i coax along as they blossom. the heat doesn’t help. i guess i’m frazzled, been working too hard, and i never do well when it’s unseasonably roasting. locked b in the backyard this morning and had to make an extra trip home to let her back in. still, being trapped in the garden she’s cultivated (an iris bloomed today) with fraidy the sleepy visitor cat and a small amount of shade wasn’t the worst exile possible. still, she can’t seem to resist tasks that require great exertion (in this case transplanting some oaks the squirrels have nursed for us – looks like a pine is coming up in one of the pots), even as she complains constantly about never getting enough exercise.

speaking of which, i need a regimen of some kind and i mean that in the sense that i need it, not that i someone told me it’s a good idea. my body is telling me this (i only learned to speak “body” in the last few years).


· still breathing

overdid it somehow lugging stuff to san diego and back last week (or, really, the week before). tried to pack light but still ended up with a sore neck, rigid trapezius and achey lower back. starting to pull it together physically, though, and enjoying the adventures of the moment.

got a few messages from readers in the last few days. that always feels good. skimming the surface here i guess. i’ll try to delve deeper next time.