Witness

The moon. A canal on Mars. A stream in the Rockies full of leaping Rainbow Trout. All of this in a sidewalk stream of water carrying memories of laughing children sailing leaves and dogs eagerly chasing possible sea creatures.
VIVA LA VIDA.

77 degrees and not a cloud in sight. Anywhere. Not from my perspective, at any rate. So I made it. Whew. 30 days of dedicated posting. Taking my sweet baby camera with me and snapping everything my heart desired. It was cool. People would ask: "Why are you taking pictures of that?" And I would invent all sorts of amazing answers. "I'm a reporter for the NY Times." was one of my very favorites, but how cool would it have been to have suddenly sprouted an unusual appendage all MIB style and let them glimpse, even for a split second, that I was an alien life form here to document and . . . ready? WITNESS. Witness is one of my very, very favorite words.  My beloved daughter, hunter and gatherer of all good and beautiful ideas, once had a photo word project where people were captured holding up a sign with their single word of choice. I never had the guts to step in front of her camera, but my word was like a neon sign in my brain--WITNESS. And this is why. Ever EVER since I can remember I have loved to scrabble about, work really REALLY hard and CAPTURE experiences and stories and images. Oh yeah, and TALK!! My early relatives hated me for my jabberwocky quality--but I was just always SO EXCITED and like a hummingbird for real!!! I just found everything--EVERYTHING around me so exciting and interesting for gawds sake!!! I have grown old enough now to have amassed quite a back story of places traveled, adventures survived, and companions met and reshuffled and discovered anew, and through it all I know that my strongest suit has been my ability to BE THERE. To BE HERE. I thank my LUCKY STARS, and I in NO WAY believe that the long exploded spinning disks in the sky have magical powers, it's just a saying after all--but I thank my lucky stars that my mind races pretty much continually, and now that I have finally managed to exist SOLO (so essential for me!!) for FIVE YEARS--I can wrestle MY SELF-DESTRUCTIVE bad habits to the sweaty mat of good riddance and pin them down to make room for better and kinder and good TO MYSELF Bohemian through and through ways to live!!! AND MAKE NO APOLOGIES. and please, please take no prisoners. Unlock the damn prison doors and figure out a way to take care of each other PLEASE!!! Yaaaay me!! I told you yesterday about the NOT comparing and the horse blinders and add to that an appreciation for my inherent HUMILITY where life and words are concerned. Here is what I mean: oh yes. We are all so precious, aren't we?  Millions of blogs, brazillions of tweets, words flashing past us, in front of us, through us for gawds sake and we are surrounded--imagine a BIG city?-mine is such a little chatterbox town!!--and what a time and age to be here! To be witness! When I discover old, seriously old books in thrift stores that are deep and poignant and well researched on EVERY topic from house cleaning to baking anything and everything and money and politics and manners and dressmaking and life and death and good gawd, ALL THE BIG ONES-I am instantly humbled and understand completely that we are like clever little hard working--hmmmm . . . I do not wish to disparage any animals here because I dare to say NONE of them would be as destructive as we are!!--but OK. I will pick on ants--we are like busy, BUSY little ants--write a book! snap a brazillion shots! post for a month! have 1,000 friends! drive everywhere! force feed ducks for your foie gras! make new junk from recycled junk! get a new phone every month! the list of activities and must dos is endless. And my words? Oh please. YES!!! I love to read what I write. I seriously cannot exist without writing, but when I read ANYTHING intellectual I am instantly humbled--New Yorker articles, the NY times, the excerpts that my beloved son sends me from his grad school in NY, the online research that my beloved youngest asks me to read over his shoulder--I am humbled, humbled, humbled. My greatest happiness about myself is that I can witness life around me and entertain myself with the art of language, I can create something beautiful that helps me to feel worth and promise, I can dream in color, I can FEEL CONNECTED to the masses that lived and thrived and struggled and died before me-the ones who thought deeply, wrote passionately, and left me a trail of imagination, inspiration, logic, and dramatic wanderings to light my path and bring me home with a satchel full of poetry and a heart mended and patched and stitched and bursting with shared love. I have my brilliant children who have walked with me long enough to know that their mother is not just a flower fairy, but a woman who has lived the miles and ridden on the backs of more than a couple of bikes, and I mean the ones with engines and they get that I am sometimes too rude and too loud and yet they love me for my scars and pains. I have my animal companions that remind me at every moment that I am worth loving simply because I am me. I have my loyal friends who tolerate my oddness and embrace my one sock on one sock off gypsy ways. Well, actually I always wear two socks but most of the time only one is striped. And I have you--my beloved readers who for some UNKNOWN UNGAWDLY reason have read through my month of posts and sent me much love, good energy, and writing in return. I LOVE YOU FOR THAT. Witness. So at the end of the day, at the end of September and my 30 days of largely insignificant and not intellectual style writing, I must leave you with one final thought--and then I am off to finish King Lear, snuggle with Hunter S. Thompson's essays, and eat probably my body weight in popcorn before tonight's oh so exciting rehearsal--and that is this, I have learned that what makes my life so perfect, so wonderful, so hard , and so challenging--is that it is MINE. It is my life. Happening to me now and in this time. In this moment.  And I am left to my own devices to shape it as best I can against the onslaughts of stupidity, cruelty, laziness, and all things ugly and hurtful. I will no doubt spend the rest of my days writing down the moments I witness and approaching with great humility the places where witnesses like Elie Wiesel write like this: "Words can sometimes in moments of grace, attain the quality of deeds." Thank you for being my friend. Peace, love, and happiness always.

One Quick Breath

I know. This really is my back but I never see it. It was my own private Idaho therapy when I was a teacher in Oxnard.

63 degrees and dark. so dark. and a harvest moon hanging over it all. I have been thinking A LOT today about attitude and how crazy I go over many, many things in our little high priced beach town and I begin the morning all dreamy like usual and WHAM!! Into the theatre specific madness called 12 hour tech days. Two of them, a day apart and 12 hour tech days are wonderful little human being experiments in cooperation, patience, COOPERATION and PATIENCE and I really, really mean that--as lights are clicked in and readjusted a brazillion times and sound cues are built and tested and rebuilt and retested times a brazillion--costumes tweaked every which way imaginable, and with ALL OF THAT are the dear actors themselves--staggering out a couple of lines and then "hold please!!" times a brazillion and I am thinking that the MAGIC in all of this is US. How we work together, create together, and believe in what we are doing SO MUCH that VOILA!!! Opening night, a successful run, closing, and then? We get to move on if we are so lucky and so chosen. Ahhhh. The life of live theatre really and truly is a life. And much of my time for the past three days has been spent in recovering from my OUCH oral surgery, and I decided to put aside a TRUCKLOAD of angst as to "What should I be doing with my life? And what is my true passion? And how can I save the planet? And how can I have a meaningful life?" and just do SIMPLY and wholeheartedly what is in front of me. And I have to must and simply am gonna say that technique, attitude change, or WHATEVER worked beautifully.  Plenty of things to do came my way: mend many costumes, laundry, finding a million little thises and thats, being nice, being patient, being supportive, being kind, eating the leftover cake, and skedaddling home to write to you!! Yeah. I like this new attitude. One more major shift WHICH I ADORE!!! is absolutely no fucking way whatsoever comparing myself to ANYONE. Done. I'm through. A very specific kind of horse blinders are going on this old horse and even though you might not be able to teach an old dog new tricks, I am living proof that you can teach an old horse a new way of seeing. And that is EXACETALLY as Alice would say, how I am playing the game forever and even longer from now on and always!! Tomorrow is DAY THIRTY!!! Look at that!! I really do have discipline! I set a goal and tomorrow I will achieve it!! That makes me so happy I KNOW I will have sweet dreams and with all my heart, I hope you do too. Love always!!

We Are Many

I keep trying to make a life for myself in the Santa Barbara School SYSTEM and it doesn't seem to happen. And maybe it is not supposed to. I acted all tough about not getting that most recent job, but honestly, it killed me.  Whaaat? MORE rejection? SIGH.

A small and insignificant moment on the bridge except for this: I was there. That has to matter. And you were with me, right?

Under the glorious full moon. and 64 degrees. I do not have much time left with you, and I want to thank you all for reading my posts. I find blog such an inelegant word. Blog. A bullfrog. A blog. Ribbbeeettt!!!! OK. Tonight I want to tell you a story. It's a pretty good one and I promise to wander a bit, make a point or two, and pretend to be very, very wise. First, some randoms: I did not like high school when I was there, walking the halls these days? I still feel uncomfortable and not at home. Especially after I did not get hired AGAIN. It is easy to eat a plant based diet. Just do it. It is easy to have compassion for animals inhumanely raised and killed simply to put calories on your frame. Just do it. The upcoming political debates will be must watch I think. Cupcakes will never go out of fashion. People on reality shows have tremendous egos. I love my black Levis button fly jeans. I mean I love them. I really miss the company of my beloved son in NY. Just hearing his voice makes me happy. I can't wait to see my daughter's new painting. T-shirts are not couture. City water is very expensive. I made potato and carrot curry with coconut milk for 2 people for three days (it just gets better) ORGANIC for $3.15. My youngest child is THE BEST roommate company when he is here. All right. My brain has emptied a bit. Someone I used to know wrote me about another someone I used to know and SADLY this person is down on their luck. See how I just put that? It's because IT IS TRUE. People can live precious, perfect, honest, humble lives and then the shit hits the fan, friends and family and pets die, money runs out, barns burn down, and even in the face of ACCIDENTS, ILLNESS, AND BAD LUCK-which happen to all of us--we can turn away. We must, I guess, because the suffering of the world is so immense. There is just too much agony. For every plant based something I eat, there is someone else firing up the barbecue and throwing down a slab of Wilbur without a second thought. A friend told me that a veterinarian who was training future vets in her class said that he believed that animals had no souls and that they did NOT FEEL PAIN. Souls or not, pain or not, if we--you or me--or you and I--US--if we feel strongly about SOMETHING, ANYTHING--shouldn't we speak up? Shouldn't we be militant? Isn't that how CHANGE HAPPENS? I want to help this friend. I have EXACTLY October rent in the bank. November? Ahhhh. How to help, how to help? OK. Here is my story. I promise. A couple of years ago I was padding down to the Borders which was a mere two blocks down the street from me hoping to spend an hour or so saying hi! to a few people maybe, getting some good ideas from the magazines, checking out a couple of titles and WOW--on this sleepy early morning there were half a dozen (believe me, this sounds like one of my dreams but I am NOT making it up!!) totally HOT and BUILT black guys standing outside with headsets on!! GEEZ LOUISE I said and was immediately escorted to the door and asked if I would like to be part of a small audience for OPRAH!!!! Gulp I said in reply and ventured a look down at my panda pajama bottoms hoping that they looked stylish and wondering if I had even bothered to glance in the mirror but NO MATTER because the focus was so not on me!!! Oh heavens!! Planet Oprah hit the stage and upended a mother with her severely physically challenged son who was speaking about the book he had written and ALL EYES WERE ON OPRAH. We watched, BREATHLESSLY, while her assistant took the wrapper off her straw before handing her the bottle of water. We listened, like devotees to a major goddess as she interviewed the mother and son CONSTANTLY referring to HER books and HER book club and even HER magazine. But not one of us cared, because we were in the presence of GREAT WEALTH AND POWER AND INFLUENCE, and good gawd it was heady stuff. The mother and son left. Oprah as Goddess continued on and came to the part in her speech where she graciously agreed to entertain questions from us, the masses.  Huddled and pajamed and rightfully IN AWE (and waiting for our free gift cars no doubt). The questions were somewhat pedestrian except for the last one and this man was handsome and close to my age-NO, I am not going there, hold your horses, and he SO ELOQUENTLY and BEAUTIFULLY and SINCERELY, with all his heart asked Oprah HOW? How do you get to where you are? How does one find a dream? How does one find a passion worthy of pursuit? It was obvious to all of us that this man had struggled mightily in his life and was now of a certain age and needing to know what was next? How to find the path -- HIS path? It was a fabulous, many voiced question, and it hung there--like the brazillion dollar prize and we waited, scarcely daring to breathe for the SECRET OF SUCCESS, the clue to our deliverance, words of wisdom from a woman who started with almost nothing and ended up owning half the world. And what did she say? She said that: Once she was JUST LIKE US, that once upon a time SHE WAS JUST LIKE US--but NOW she had ascended because she dreamed and planned and worked really really really hard and kept fighting. And that he could do that too so that someday he could be LIKE HER and NOT LIKE HIM. The man was visibly crushed. We all felt robbed. I got up off the dingy carpet and started home and a tiny darling little old woman took my arm and whispered to me: "Shame on Oprah. Don't you feel bad after listening to her? Do you know why? Because she didn't have the humility to explain and acknowledge all of the people who helped her all along the way. Without them, her success would not have been possible." I have thought about that little old woman many times since that morning. When I was almost homeless, and sadly, this time of year I am just on the barely plus side of that status again, I paid careful attention to the many, MANY ways my friends helped me. My children checked in daily to make sure that I was still on the planet. A friend with not much more money than me stuck a twenty in my back pocket. A man at Catholic Charities helped pay my utilities for one month and let me get food. And miracle of all miracles-a woman I knew from just a recent experience sent me and my son almost AN ENTIRE MONTH'S RENT. She is the only reason we kept our place! Unbelievable. I still take the envelope that the check came in out from time to time and look at it for a reminder. And most recently, I have posted about the MOST EXCELLENT groceries and support I received from my friends the boat people. And I get such GREAT HAPPINESS from all of the responses to my writing. THANK YOU SO MUCH. Because it struck me SO HARD as I rode my bike home across the big bridge under a setting sun and a full rising moon that sharing my life with people who are kind and caring is what makes joy and all good things possible.  Because of the love and support of my little family of children and doggies, and the love and support of my friends, the madness stays at bay and a clear path opens up through the sorrow. I don't know how else we will make it through to the rest of our so called lives without each other. It seems simple, really, we just have to see ourselves reflected in all beings, in all life, in every moment. And that's what I have to say today-the only September 28th, 2012 we will ever get. Love always!!!

Lecturing Small Dogs

Yes. The kids. Staring at me like most days. Food? A walk? You can just barely see Charm.

Here she is! She always stays tucked up under my feet JUST IN CASE I drop a crumb of ANYTHING.

This HAS to make you laugh. Immediately after the "you better start doing something with your lives!!" lecture. You can tell it did a LOT of good.

My coffee. My crossword on a clipboard, and YES they are gargoyles at their best!!

The Fantastic Mr. Fox after a solid 30 minutes of guard duty explaining to me why oh why he needs and deserves a treat. Corgis will do ANYTHING for food.

66 degrees and the sun is going down as well as the warmth. That's OK. I am liking the coolness and the shadows these days, even the cold doesn't feel quite as unfriendly which is great, because DANG we are heading into that I better get A LOT of presents and many, MANY happy things better be happening for everyone-ME INCLUDED--YOU INCLUDED season OR ELSE. OK. Now that is decided--oh!!! Because, this time of year is arrrrguably and for some confusing reason my lowest point on the old wheel of fortune but NO!!! Not this year!! I am taking a stand and I am NOT going downhill in any way shape or form--JUST WATCH ME!!! Wow. I don't know where all of that confidence is coming from . . . . . could be the lightness of one less tooth. Now, about lecturing small dogs, the slender kindness thread of life in our community and the world itself actually, and a slap down to AN EXTREMELY FUNNY woman who had better start writing!!! And she can thank me when she steps up to the mike to accept her FUNNIEST WOMAN IN AMERICA screen writer's award!! Here goes: When my Sancho died, my watchdog security and daily Queensland feed of loud barking and tennis ball chasing and general kick it up rowdiness STOPPED and as you well know, the past several months have been largely framed by my grief and challenge in getting over past through beyond that missing and heartache, and sometimes--I lecture my lil dogs. "You have to be the watchdogs now!! Grandpa is gone and I need you! Look sharp! Bark at those people! Bark at those dogs! Bark at that almost full moon!" And here are Fox and Lucky doing their damndest, LOL, high above the street looking like gargoyles and barking like little stage mother prompted maniacs. They are not Sancho, that is true, SIGH, but pretty damn cute in their own right. And check out Charm. Unless there is FOOD in any form attached--she is NOT coming up for air. As watchdogs they tend to leave A LOT desired, but hopefully my oh so sincere lectures will inspire them to bark at imminent danger and not an errant poodle or an argumentative blue jay or stray crumbs. My next incredible September 27 story is one of gratitude and actually, AWE, over just how close and how far we all are--a woman felt very faint and hot and lightheaded at the grocery store and I was so glad to be there and to be able to help her with her wallet and bag and shopping cart and HERE IS THE COOLEST THING--even though all of the idiots on the planet are trying to stir up the various hate pots all around the world right now so that we can all continue living in DEBT and HATE and JUDGEMENT and FEAR--every single customer, bagger, and our checker helped this woman and were SO VERY VERY KIND. It was extremely tender and comforting to witness the genuine concern and empathy for this woman. I asked her what she wanted to do and if there was someone waiting for her at home and YES she had a husband to go to so that was good. I left her with a heartfelt wish for better health and a wonderful evening and she thanked me most sincerely. And how odd--how far--I know that I will never see her again and that close moment, those moments just came and went like all of the others. It was touching and had nothing to do with our daily bombardment of mean spirited people. Everyone was kind. And helpful. And nice. So there, don't you feel better about being in the world? I know I do. Now my last is a pointed comment or few, you know me--why use one sentence when 50 will do? and this is for a woman I know who is a LIGHTENING BOLT of energy (funny) and stories (funny) and one-liners (funny) and personality (funny)--so she had better get off the respective couch and start honing her comedy writing skills because DAMN we need her to do this!!! Like now!! And love always.

My Friend the King

70 degrees and oh let me guess, CLEAR. How curious that I live in a city where I literally PRAY FOR BAD WEATHER. hahahahaha. I bet you thought that because I just crawled home from the oral surgeon's and crawled out from under my covers (I know. That is a lot of crawling.) that my post would be somewhat subdued and thankfully quiet today!! HA once again! No. That will probably never happen and although I know that everyone does not read or adore my verbal verbage, and IF I EVER GET PUBLISHED, I will not be looking for my titles to climb in the bestseller lists (or will I?)it just doesn't matter to me, because talking is what I do and when my wee dogs just give me that on the very, very edge of speaking silence but with their little doggy back ends wagging-corgis have no tails after all--or their little kid velvet painting huge eyed expressions but still without answering back I KNOW that writing is what I must do. Thank gawd for you my so AWESOME and somewhat tortured by my sheer length of posts readers! You can disagree, although maybe not today because OUCH my mouth is banging or just hit DELETE!!! How sweet is that? But if you are along for the jabberwocky experience POST oral surgery--well, I am glad. A friend who had not understood my 30 days worried that perhaps I was going to  . . . . . start a cupcake shop? walk across the country? move to Manhattan? paddle some small craft to the Bahamas? or way, way inappropriate for ANYONE-stick my head in the proverbial oven--but no, nothing that dramatic. My 30 day writing discipline is JUST THAT--a discipline AND breaking my junior high school obsession with FB-checking it 9,000 times a day to see if anyone had written to me, checking out everyone else's happy perfect lives, checking, checking, checking. Yeah. I had to make a bold move and people!!! IT WORKED!!! Now I download all of my lennnngthy prose onto my beloved blog and make a life for myself other than cyber!!! Yaaaay me! I am getting to the less anti-social place where I might even welcome visitors (oh good gawd) or knock on your door myself!!! I can smile at people now in the bright sunlight, carry on waaaay too close to my face conversations with people a brazillion times more excited than me, and I only have to cover up my missing teeth side of my mouth when I smile--which, quite frankly, I only try to do once a month or so. Kidding! Yeah. It's all good. The irony does not escape me that I took King Lear along for the walk to my oral surgeon's today. I missed him at UCSB somehow and Shakespeare's words-each phrase explained by a PAGE of definitions like good gawd let me just struggle a bit ok and see if I can understand the man myself, had a wonderful and soothing effect on me. I love books more than anything else in my life. When I was so skinny and scrawny and homely and NOT POPULAR back in the dark ages of the 50's and 60's I spent my entire childhood chasing down dragonflies by day and fireflies by night and scrabbling around in creekbeds and cornfields and always ALWAYS with AT LEAST one book under my arm and usually an entire stack. Ahhh THEY WERE (ARE) SUCH MY BEST FRIENDS. I am down one more tooth today-thanks to insufficient enamel on my adult teeth and also probably thanks to the discovery back in that same dark time of every conceivable sort of packaged sugar coated everything--from cereals to candies to cookies to drinks-man, we lived on sugar. In the summer my lips were permanently dyed hideous colors from the kool-aid packs and there was a Kelloggs factory not far from us and the KILLER smell of sugar pops on an 85 degree summer evening is still within my grasp. An ETERNALLY GRATEFUL thank you goes out to some friends who helped me out this past week in more ways than one and after I let you off the long post hook and crawl back into my bed plus one dog, I will think of them toasting to my missing tooth smile and the end of TWO YEARS of pain and infection! Yep. Their support helped me put an end to that torture and I am so grateful they are in my life. "The weight of this sad time we must obey; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say." Yes I whine. Yes I feel sorry for myself. But BELIEVE ME--anytime you want to whine to me or feel sorry for yourself on MY TIME--I'm your huckleberry. You know where to reach me and LOVE ALWAYS!!!

Optimism, thy name is . . .

Remember? In Fellini's films you are oh so intently watching and listening to the story and in the background is a flat going by with oddly painted people riding on it or just a strange looking person making a face at you? 

65 degrees and oh clear oh clear oh clear. Funny thought, I was looking at the 2" THICK at least new catalogue for Restoration Hardware and wondering who in the hell has the money for 90% of that stuff and who in the real hell has the TIME to look through it all? Then--inside the front cover TA DA!!! YET ANOTHER TESTIMONIAL to "fearlessly fighting" for our beliefs and remaining "hopelessly optimistic" WHAT???? ABOUT THE THREE BIG ONES---life, love, and Twinkies--no, no, I'm kidding--the future . . .  then according to this SO ACCOMPLISHED and INFINITELY SUCCESSFUL well-dressed and immaculately groomed and photographed pres of the company, then we will create an authentic connection!!! Oh good! So here I am hahahahaha like a modern day Fellini movie-pushing home my saved by the backstage crew guys (THANK YOU GUYS!!!) at the theatre, kindling for my winter fires!!! Ahhhh!!! Now THAT is realistic optimism and THAT is an authentic connection. GEEZ. Remind me to tell you my Oprah story someday. But yeah, please, please people--stop posing all rich and famous and successful and at the top of the rat race game and shredding your pearls of wisdom to the lesser, less hopelessly optimistic, less lucky, and YES, less wealthy among us--and just go play with your toys.  I have taken my head out from under my depression pillow of last night (thankfully) and managed to accomplish small miracles today--not the least of which is getting this bag lady shopping cart full of wood to my home. Love always and THANK YOU for reading my blog.

Bootstraps and Babies

Walking behind a young man as he swung his little brother up for a ride reminds me of when I was happy. Yeah. Raising my kids was the greatest thing I ever did with my life.

68 degrees here in our little ocean side town and APOLOGIES for not being my usual somewhat chipper jabberwocky self. I had to get ONLINE to connect with people ANYWHERE but Santa Barbara who understand what it is to be 59, burdened down completely with unrepayable student loan debt and back taxes, without secure future full-time income, and scrapping the bottom of the dime barrel. Coming home from yet another confusing and NOT fulfilling day and finding the latest government denial of reduction of my 25 year old student loan debt just killed me a little. Don't worry. This is definitely NOT a plea for assistance in ANY form whatsoever and as my wonderful son oh so sweetly assures me: "Mom, we got through this before. We'll be OK. What is the worst that can happen?" and I KNOW he is correct, but one thing for sure--the looks on the faces of people in our community who truly believe that IF A PERSON LIVES A CERTAIN LIFE than everything will work out perfectly, are looks I hope to never, ever see again. Sad to think that our WORTH as fellow passengers on this mysterious ship of life is based SOLELY on our income, possessions, and title. Do NOT for a moment hit me with magical thinking, guilt-trip me with "if you had only" or "if you had not", or try to reason out my situation with any dogma, religion, or cosmic reincarnation scenario. I have been to all of those places and I have done all of those things ad nauseum! If I sound sad and bitter, I am. So, so much of my life has been an almost DAILY justification as to why I was not "as good" as EVERYONE around me. Now as headlines bombard us day after day after day with the TOTAL INSANITY of the way we have set up life in our country and on our planet (just look at the slide show of people starving in Spain), I KNOW that my beliefs-to hold and feed the children, to read to them and teach them well, to comfort and care for our elders, to listen to them and cherish them, to befriend all of our fellow creatures and protect them and value our interactions with all life forms, to protect the beauty of our world and keep it safe and secure for future life-I KNOW that I am not the bad or crazy or cruel or lazy or selfish person. When I read about tiny children starving to death, a blind man being denied student loan forgiveness, elderly patients dying for lack of medical needs . . . awww come on. We can do better. We must do better. It goes like this-if I could get a job teaching in a "challenged" area, part or all of my student loan debt might be forgiven ONLY after A DECADE of repayments ON TIME. If I pay my few thousand in back taxes, I could go along scrapping out my barely making ends meet existence until what? I die of old age? One of my kids makes enough money to RESCUE me? The bitch of ALL of this is that I am almost SIXTY YEARS OLD!!! When I sat next to those smelly old men in Labor Ready TWO YEARS ago I said that I HAD TO DO BETTER! Today? The end of my income. The end of September. Rent. And I am cleaned out. Some income in October so that I can build up for November rent. And so it goes. I have made peace with poverty. I can live without ANYTHING non-essential, but DAMN IT!!! Federal Government who TACKS ON HUGE interest and penalties  STTTTTTOOOOOPPPPP!!!! I am losing my mind. But here is what makes me feel the absolute WORSE--the absolute worse--people who judge me, shun me, make fun of me, belittle me, and help me to feel worthless BECAUSE THEY HAVE MONEY and I don't. Yeah. That is the worse. So as I lose friends and connections because I quit teaching and my kids grew up and I couldn't find a decent job and my personality is abrasive or whatever and I am desperately seeking a stable life IN ANY FORM--fine. Anyone who thinks that they are getting out alive is truly thinking the magic. And can we stop with the "pulling up on your bootstraps" nonsense? I have worked as hard as anyone I know to make enough money to survive in this town. Love always.

Cloud Factory

I remember, long ago, when I believed such things mattered, I read some Feng Shui book that urged me to throw away everything dry and dead--as if that could open up new "flow" in my life. I used to call that cleaning my house, and I tried the Feng Shui way. But now I know better and take much comfort in the papery dry petals of this rose and know that it is all part of our run here.

73 degrees and clear. Just sat through a first run of Crime and Punishment and if that won't rock your world, nothing will. This morning I read parts of the NY Times. I love to believe that I am all intellectual and stuff and DAMN the NY Times is SO well written and SO depressing. I never, ever knew that there could be wars in so many places at once. Tonight I am tired. Tired of writing. Tired of endless alterations on shredded costumes. Tired of planning a new week. Tired of adding up non-money. Tired of feeling so down about my Sancho. Tired of the whole world actually. Tired especially of our cavalier way of making bad things all right . . . places like stockyards and killing floors, huge SUVs that have no problem taking up a fat lane, being jerked around in supermarkets with their "get real" sales, of the new Fall fashions featuring furs (and note that fine alliteration!), believing that art exists to be sold, writing has to be published, and fame accomplished--and now this? Besides the millions of children and babies who will go this entire day without food, despite the continuing drain on our pockets and hearts for death and destruction in the name of war, and not even counting the wise and should be cherished elders among us who live out their last years alone, lonely, and sick--BESIDES ALL OF THAT-- the front page of the aforementioned NY Times has a MUST READ article on OUR total and complete and you cannot argue with the facts WASTEFUL USE of resources because of US, yes YOU AND ME and our constant and continual need for digital information. I did not know any of that!!! I truly believed in a "cloud factory" of well . . . some sort of alien cyber clean energy sort of pulling it out of the air magic computer stuff. I was SO WRONG. Tonight I am curling up with a good book and NOT sending this to anyone. If you want to read my remaining days out of 30-I love you for it. And thank you. I just truly believe that we must find a better way to live on our brilliant blue gem of a planet. I AM STILL GOING TO KEEP MY PERSONAL VOW OF 30 DAYS and LOVE ALWAYS!!!!

50 Million Strong

I still look for him everyday.

You know this is better than anything.

Here is the fox you are going to buy for me!!! THANK YOU!!!

There will only be ONE of these--not 5 million.

Come on!! Take them home with you!!!

And what could be sweeter than this painting?

74 degrees on this equinox day. equality. balance. On the Writer's Almanac today the poet Sarah Platt was quoted: "It is the summer's great last heat. It is the fall's first chill: they meet." And so in the spirit of that meeting of great moments, climates, temperatures, minds, occasions, and seasons here is my post for this impossibly high flying cloud day. Apple plans to sell 50 MILLION PHONES this December. 8 MILLION alone this weekend. At the same time this bit of news landed in my in box-I also found  a cyber plea to end child labor of phones and laptops in China where, reportedly, children--little bitty children are assembling phones and laptops for several hours everyday for low or no pay. Ironically, a couple of years ago during my ONE THIN DIME DAYS, I spent a few hours trying to get some food stamps and some aid from Catholic Charities and at both of those places EVERYONE was on a smartphone. EVERYONE. When I sat with the men at Labor Ready, YES I WAS THAT DESPERATE TO WORK, they did not have phones. Not one of them. They had coughs, ruined clothing, battered bodies, and poor manners-but NO PHONES. Not too long after this same ONE THIN DIME period of my life, I got a phone for $125 and it came with a $75 cash rebate. My plan costs $30 a month for 1500 minutes and unlimited texting. As an old school phone user it KILLED ME to spend money to talk on the phone. Really? Pay dozens of dollars a month in place of my $8.00 a month landline? I remember some of the happiest times in my life fooling around with that old rotary dial and winding myself in the phone cord while I chattered away. Loved it. Not begrudging anyone for spending all of that money and all of that time acquiring the newest technology. Not a one of my high school students would be caught anywhere at anytime without the brand, BRAND NEWEST phone. So yeah. I know they are killer fun. I know everyone needs one for their businesses. But here is what I am thinking . . . at the risk of sounding morose (and oh my gawd you KNOW how I love sounding morose) until those smart phones have an app to reach my dead dog-I am not impressed. 50 MILLION NEW PHONES?  What happens to all of the old ones? All right--so there is my rant. To balance it out here is my happiness story for this day: MUDDY WATERS ART PARTY TONIGHT!!! for THE GREATEST ARTIST ON THE PLANET!!! Her art only gets better, and let me say something here--artists LOVE appreciation.  The actors last night could not get enough of the applause and standing ovation. Their smiles were fantastic as they stood there bowing together at the end of their LIVE performance. And if you BUY A PAINTING from THE GREATEST ARTIST IN THE WORLD--at Muddy Waters TONIGHT at the art party--you will have that painting FOREVER! You will not have to power it up, sign an agreement, download anything, miss talking LIVE to your friends because you are texting, trip on the sidewalk because you are texting, fight with yourself to phone or not because you are driving--NONE OF THESE THINGS WILL HAPPEN TO YOU!! You will go to the party-have a fantastic time, buy an original work of art, take it home, and LOVE IT FOR ALWAYS!!! A dear and good friend brought me two exquisite books and one of them is a wandering, tender reflection on life, past and present, and there is a deliberate black hole of modern day distractions. The illustrations are strong and sensitive and the words are an honest thinking out of our daily journeys, lifetime accomplishments, and a voicing of our greatest mysteries. Many questions will be answered with your purchase of one of these original paintings . . . and oh yes, don't forget to buy the fox for me! The goats are already gone!! Love always!

Private Lives

PART ONE--65 degrees and clear sailing up and down the coast. You know how you can look down a street and be startled with a memory so strong and perfect? Looking down this street in Ventura as I was preparing to go to the Rubicon Theatre-one of my favorite places, and watch "Private Lives"--one of my favorite plays written by the FABULOUS Noel Coward, starring three of THE BEST and my most favorite actors EVER, and catch up with one of my favorite backstage workers and friend and boss EVER, and maybe the light is not so great or even the exact view itself, but it IMMEDIATELY made me feel that peculiar and very, very, VERY special magic I felt when I first came to California and never EVER imagined that anyone could live in such a place--let alone me. I will keep using the word magic until the day I die. And perhaps even longer because who is to say what is magic and what is magical? Can't it all be? 30 days of writing. 30 days of posts. I am getting close to the finish. Love always!!
PART TWO--I am not naive enough to think that everything is magic or magical. On my trip down I listened to the radio report about a little girl who was injured by war bombs in Afghanistan. I heard our leading politicians argue like idiots, and heard stories both frightful and beyond sad. On my trip home I was immensely entertained by a most sincere broadcast concerning the wild world of banshees-which are mostly Irish and either beautiful women or hags or both!! But in between those trips I sat in absolute bliss in a sweet little theatre, surrounded mostly by the silver-haired, and watched "Private Lives". Watching really, REALLY great acting is like traveling in a time machine. For two hours I was effortlessly and wonderfully transported to the 30's in Paris, listening to lines of wicked wit and watching couples dueling like they were born to it. I am too tired to go on and on in my usual downloading jabberwocky style--just go see that fantastic show, would you? It plays this weekend and next week as well. And maybe even one more week. Just go, OK? You will have a terrific time. Get ready for tomorrow--tomorrow is the final show for THE GREATEST ARTIST IN THE WORLD. Get some sleep--Saturday ART SHOW CLOSING AND PURCHASES and then on to the THEATRE!!! Love always!!

Race of Beings

I am going to replace each one of the negative things I experienced today with a  FABULOUS picture of these trees.

Ancient shepherds of the forest. I believe it.

So much beauty.

Ha ha ha. This tree is for the pile-up of people in front of the Apple store in very, very dingy sleeping bags and what were they waiting for I wonder but I really don't care.

See? It's sweet, right? Just ready to set sail!!!

75 degrees and sunny, sunny, sunny. Yesterday I loved myself for inventing the word "enth", I am quite sure it was me who first set that word awalking on the earth-but if you google it and find out that I am mistaken? Please, do not tell me. Today we are going to wander around a little bit, quite frankly I feel like treading gently through my world today, so here is what is happening: early morning is a fragile and precious bright light time of day. So still and such peace. The birds are pretty much the only sound I hear as I put my tiny kitchen back together and marvel at each one of the AWESOME and INTERESTING foods that came up my stairs in a generosity bag sent by some old and dear friends and carried to me by their beautiful son. And how sweet it is to be able to accept a gift--not easy--but sweet nevertheless. And what an adventure to receive groceries picked out by someone else for me-little treasures and how did they know favorites. Fox thanks you profusely for the popcorn. His best begging food. Then off to my usual rounds of trying to make myself useful-- picking up the dropped lines, nails and screws, pins, and attitudes of the young and unwilling--and having my feelings hurt a little because I cannot match up to the GIGANTIC personalities of performers and so WHY TRY? I am asking myself this as I walk along one of my most beautiful and one of our best streets which as EVERYBODY knows, is lined with--are you ready? I am bringing it full circle as all good writers are supposed to--lined with ENTS cleverly disguised as trees. Breathe them in, TREES. The glorious dancing sculpture of their trunks and limbs and branches. The texture of bark and the float and sway of the leaves. The seriously perfect shades of green. When I was little and my Dad first tried to tell me about death and dying, the VERY FIRST THING I SAID WAS: "Wait, you mean I have to leave the trees?" From Enth to Ent. From kitchen destruction to kitchen sublime. From angst about situations I will never control to the afternoon sun strobe lighting myself and me as I am shepherded along under the protective arms of my friends from middle-Earth, the ENTS. Let it all go they whisper. Everything is better than good. Love always!

Meaningful Distractions

My tiny kitchen which now seems way too big with no need to cook, know what I mean?  Ahhh!! The chocolate souffles we turned out of here!!

The brave remainders so boldly sitting right on my 60 year old tile floor next to my winged vehicle!!

In case you didn't know, Corgis will do ANYTHING for food.

Even the tiniest crumbs.

This empty box was a good twenty mintues of chasing around the room, throwing it off, getting "stuck" over and over. Yeah. Good times.

GEEZ LOUISE--i just realized that i hardly ever talk about the wind! and i am typing free range style without the captive use of capital letters. OK. I will settle down, kind of. 64 degrees. What do you think of that? and CALM. Not even a baby's breath whisper out there. I know. I just came from out there--dog walking if you want to know. All right. A girl can't be depressed all of the time, can she? No is the answer to that question and because OH MY GOODNESS!!! No less than FOUR fabulous things have happened to me in the past two days and only ONE sad and sorry thing which involved NOT getting a job which involved human cattle prod over study hall students and even though I should (sniff! sniff!) shed a few tears over that one-NO! I am no stranger to rejection! In fact, I have come to know rejection quite well--not that I count it as a friend, but we are on familiar terms. Which counts for something I dare say. Strange bedfellows these days are. I promised you a brief respite from depression, so let's go! Why I Am Single-a term paper sordov. Hey. Want to hear a funny story about sordov? One of my knucklehead students was writing on the board and he wrote a sentence with the word "sordov", and I stared at it for a couple of moments-not getting it-thinking it was some kind of vodka and when I asked him--he scoffed-my students were professional scoffers and said: "Oh Lange, it's SORT OF, you know!!!" Ha, ha, ha-gotta love those teaching school memories-but yeah back to why I am single. One might think that I am single because I smell bad, which I don't because I use the sandalwood spray my beloved daughter got for me or Chanel which is way too sophisticated but I can pretend, or because I have a tattoo on my back which is curious because 1) I never see it myself 2) my back is probably one of the only parts of my physical self NOT pretending to age a bit, or because I am funny looking and YEAH I was one of those girls sooooooo looks challenged that I pretty much despised ALL pretty women until about 6 hours ago hahahaha!!!,Ok, I quit being jealous of pretty women awhile ago but the mirror is not my friend suffice it to say although I will say that there are QUITE A FEW looks challenged people around these days so I know that I am not the homeliest, or you might think I am single because I cannot keep facts and figures and names and dates lined up in my head as I should, like ducks in a row of course, the knowledge in my head is much more akin to a junk drawer full of fantastic treasures or a compost heap that sits for so long it sprouts unicorns and dandylions and copies of Baron Munchausen and I have a friend who gives me bags of FABULOUS fabrics which keeps me sooo happy and she can talk about anything, anyone, anywhere at anytime and she gets everything RIGHT, OK I guess I am envious of brainy women too but not my friend because she is SMART like a whip and NEVER condescending (like all smart men I know) oh my goodness did I just say that out loud? oh well, no matter, I keep trying to sharpen my brain up, run it through anti-aging old people exercises but it is quite perverse and insists upon reading favorite Henry Millers repeatedly and trying to get even an enth (I think I just invented "enth" and I LOVE IT!!) as skilled at drawing as THE GREATEST ARTIST IN THE WORLD, or dreaming up crazy plans like making 1,000 TAXMICE to pay off my debts-100 down, only 900 more to go----sigh!!!-- or you might think it is because I pull TV marathons on my wee computer and movie marathons on the same wee computer at any and all hours of the night and at a moment's notice, case in point, I recently turned a scandalous age and celebrated by watching EVERY episode of EVERY season of Breaking Bad which I know did some hopefully not long-term damage to my career plans and ideas as to how to raise funds (I know, let's build a meth lab!!), or you might think I am single because I have popcorn for breakfast and Almond Joys for dinner--snack size!! they have the word "joy" in their name for gawd's sake, or because I have never dreamed of owing a house, a second car, wearing furs, diamonds or getting my nails done, or you might think I am still single because I wear my favorite clothes until they are rags, my favorite shoes until they are full of holes, and my sweaters until I have thumb holes in the cuffs-they're convenient--and NO DOUBT--if you know me you might have a brazillion more ideas as to why I am single and that's ok or maybe you don't care and just wish I would be quiet already but in case you haven't noticed--SOMEDAY--someday!!! I plan to win for writing the loooongest sentence in the known universe, but here, here is why I am single because for GAWDS SAKE, look at this kitchen, a little galley of a kitchen being gutted and scrubbed down and emptied because who the hell cooks anymore and for whom? all right the wee doggies, but other than them? and then--me slightly crazy single woman with no one to tell her that she does everything the wrong way-gleefully slaps on a coat of paint to cover all of the flaws!!! Yippee!! How cool is that? Are you shaking your head? I hope not, because I can't always be all morose and worrying about death and taxes. Sometimes I have to write about the simple joys, like remaking a kitchen to match a refurbished life which YOU GUESSED IT, includes a corgi with her head in a Milkbones box. Love always!!!

The End of Despair

The end of despair comes in moments perfectly appreciated.

There is nothing in life that ever comes close to the perfection of this.

66 degrees and darkly clear. nighttime. I have come to my conclusion that the end of despair comes in learning something new just for the beauty of it, the ease and gentle push and shove in conversation with someone who loves you, the shadow of a red-tailed hawk flying oh so close, the wave from workers camped out on a hot mountainside under the coolness of a lunchtime tree, the shared memories of lives lived to the fullest, the sweet smell of baking cupcakes fueled by a true friend's generosity, the warmth and glow of a home loudly rocking with the kindest of words and the dearest of company, the butterfly clip in an old street woman's hair, the deep holes and ditches in a back country road and the pickup truck that flies over them, plastic cows and sheep grazing on a far distant lawn, champagne cheap enough to buy two bottles and good enough to drink for dinner, the ecstatic beyond words greeting from my loyal four-leggeds, the twinkle of my happy lights to welcome me home, and a sunlit golden chunk of sap amber fallen from a tree at our feet to remind us of how far we have come together and how perfect the moment we share now. All of this extreme beauty and love happened today, this day that I will never have again, because I chose a different path this morning. Today I threw my paddle to the bottom of the boat and drifted along on THE CURRENT OF LIFE AS IT COMES. And oh YES, it was better than good. Love always!!!!

Life Is Not Fair

LOL. Charm is not wall-eyed, although it looks like it here for sure! She is always afraid that someone else will get something she won't, so she literally has one eye kind of on me and the other on Lucky dog, making sure Lucky dog doesn't close in.

SIGH.

SIGH.

65 degrees and mostly cloudy. actually, out of my big front window-which sits up in the trees above the street, rather tree house-esque, I can see just some whispery peach colored streamers of clouds barely hanging on as the sky back lights them with a setting down soon to be dark blue. so pretty. and tonight i am quite thoughtful after a day of banging my head against the wall trying to find something wonderful to do. the law case to get some help for my broken nose injury is staaaaallled once again. no word on the one possible job i interviewed for. feeling rather marginal in the theatre productions starting to fire up around me--after all HO HUM!!!--they are JUST costumes!! and WOW!! what was life like way, way back in the day when people had only firelight to sit by and bedtime was sundown and what must life be like in other countries-surely just as different as mine is to them as ours is to everybody elses, right? when i first saw this picture in today's paper, i thought the girls looked so loved and cozy and snuggled up and then i read that they are "bodies of Afghan women" and GEEZ LOUISE--bodies. and all this picture makes me think about is how HOW MUCH I WISH i was meaningfully connected to the world around me--how much I WISH I HAD A LIFE--one involved, deeply and meaningfully involved with people, and somehow, in some meaningful and wonderful way, my life would make a difference, a good and tangible difference to people of need. hey, you know what is on the top of my before i die list? THAT IS ON THE TOP of my list--to be that person living that life--that life that makes a REAL difference. perhaps, i am thinking to myself, perhaps that is exactly why i have NEVER wished for my own house, or perhaps that is EXACTLY why i don't care to mass manufacture anything that the world already has a brazillion of--I WANT MORE. No, no,no--do NOT for a moment think that I THINK that i have the better or right way to live. Oh good gawd. I would not wish the inside of my head on ANYONE--but somehow I JUST KNOW that my life is for a purpose. damned if i can figure it out. but somehow i HAVE TO KNOW AND FEEL AND BELIEVE that i have helped the world in some small way, in some meaningful small way. some real way. SIGH. that was a sigh scream. if i cannot figure this out pretty damn soon i am going to throw all of my little dogs in our car and drive to _____ and teach school in an inner city, or drive to  ______ and open a wee bakery bookstore therapy art clinic center--small and tiny with a sewing machine, or i am going to drive all across the country and write and photograph and talk with people and help where i can. my gypsy blood is strong tonight. my restless spirit is going to win out. and how oh how, dear people, do we help the great injustices of this world repair themselves? how can women and girls gathering firewood be shot? if we sat here together, and amassed all of the sadnesses on this planet happening JUST TODAY AND TONIGHT--we would end up speechless with grief. The quote in the paper today was this: "Life is not fair. Get used to it." --Bill Gates, but i am sorry Mr. Bill Gates--I will never get used to it. and love always.

The Walking Dead

This is NOT happiness. This historical site, sadly, is in place of a working community of local artists. All kicked out of their studios to make room for false adobe and fictional history lessons.

Most of us are so well stocked in our entertainment centers which double as homes (myself included) that we can ignore the disappearance of a bright and lively downtown. But not me. It is too close. This is the corner closest to me and yes Borders might have been corporate but NO ONE sits on the porch of this shop and plays music or chess. NO ONE meets up with friends inside to share company. Just saying.

Seeing walls like this makes me itch to pick up a brush and continue the designs.

You know you are still on Planet Earth when you can walk alongside a curb and see a stripe of art and pattern and a simple bouquet.

Homage to the man himself and I miss Mr. Bradbury! Validation as a writer would be oh so good. YES. That I can agree to.

A moment of PURE JOY on state Street. This little girl had just stepped out of the crowd and joined this man in a song. How sweet is this? They are high fiving  to wild applause. We long for this connection, don't we?

Don't be depressed by my dreamy sort of wandering post. I took a short nap after my thousand mile bike ride (see yesterday's post if you don't believe me) and I woke up all flushed and disoriented and called out for my dead dog before I remembered. Damn. I hate that.

70 degrees and scattered clouds. They have scattered so far and away, they are gone. I am going to piece this post together like a poem. Finding my passion. Finding your passion. Finding one's passion. I was reading about one of the chefs from the MC series which is a completely consuming addiction, and her blog following went from 7 to 7 billion hits daily after she appeared on the show. I watch the kids on PR and they say the same thing that all of the chefs say:"I want to spend my life doing this. It is my passion and what I was born to do." Lucky. Lucky people who know. Lucky people who can pick one ball and run through the goal with it. But then, I wonder, what? And what about validation? I have no desire to mass market. Thank you to the people who have worn themselves out figuring ways I could make something and sell it. It is true, I am jealous of people who have done this, but I am sticking to a small but loud voice that begs me to consider: "Doesn't the world have enough stuff?" The TAXMICE are different. They are my anti-nervous breakdown and nibble away at my back taxes project and like all hand done ANYTHING-they are labor intensive and marketing? Oh yeah right. Marketing. Validation. All of my FABULOUS baking equipment and mixer and such are going to my daughter because 1) my oven is broken 2) I have no one to bake for. As I was sorting through all of my stuff I found a business name and license and plan for "Lucky Cakes" and all of my recipes from the old Roma and a letter from Julia Childs and there WAS a passion of mine before the lack of any finances and most of the population declining wheat, fat, and joy in their baked goods hit home. Publishing. YES. Here is an area where I have not completely exhausted possibilities. Still working on this one because gawd knows how much I love to write. Sigh. And don't even begin to think that I haven't sought help for financing any of my "dreams and passions".  For gawds sake!!! I wrote EVERYONE and THEIR MOTHER asking for help--even OPRAH!! So THANKS for humoring me YET AGAIN. I am going to stroll our streets and compile a few shots of thoughts, observations, and feelings, and do one of the things I do best: witness life around me and tell you about it. Love always. Here's to a good week ahead. OK? Seriously. A great week.

The Many Chapters of Men

No. This is not a man. Not yet anyway. You have to read this whole dang post in order to get to the part about this lil white pup!!!

It is 64 degrees and yaaaawn clear. That yawn was NOT for the hour, I refuse to be an old person already tucked in. Actually, the older I get the less I seem to sleep which is, no doubt, a well researched and easily googled fact. Oh well. La-dee-dah as some famous person once said. So. Ahem. Throat clearing noise. I guess you might think that I get this way when I have had too much caffeine. Sometimes that is true, but sometimes I simply CANNOT WAIT to come home and DOWNLOAD my brain. Especially when that sometime is THIS TIME, a time when I am sitting here with puppy bites on my hands, aching muscles and a heart full of history and close encounters. You had better sit down. Here's what happened. So there I was, morning AGAIN, and yes I am incredibly glad to wake up every morning, I really, really am--but this morning I refused to get caught up in the usual oh my goodness, not enough this, not enough that, RING YOU CRAZY PHONE!!, nothing but junk cyber in all of my usual places and even though some fabulous poet says that an AMAZING BEING might knock at my door at any moment--well, I was not and am not holding my breath so there was nothing for it but to haul my bike down the back stairs, squeeze through the tiny Copenhagen blue gate that I WIRED in place with copper wire, because FOR GAWDS SAKE, enough numbskull boyfriends to shake a stick at and even a couple of live-ins and SIXTEEN YEARS of living here WITH DOGS and NO ONE managed to build a damn gate. You know how much I would have loved to use another adjective right there but I held back, because I get so damn DAMN tired of doing everything myself and EVERYONE knows I am not a carpenter, ok, so I biked-uh oh-wee break here while I find out an accurate mileage instead of putting in some exaggerated 100 miles. One moment. OK!! HOLY TOLEDO! I biked a grand total of twenty miles today!! My first man encounter is with an old friend as I pass by the soccer fields, sad to say, he is just a bundle of unhappiness and still near and present drug addiction slash rehab danger and oh what a road that is to travel! So much for love and affection. Whew. Gone. Peddling on brings me close to the sea and the wonderful breezes and visions of the young and lithe and lively vollyballing back and forth on the sand. So pretty. All of it. The sea birds swooping overhead. Montecito gleaming on the hillside. SUVs the size of buildings flashing within inches of my slow biking flesh and blood self. You know, side topic here--those monstrous SUVs? They should be BANNED. And while we are on the subject--for gawds sake-why are people still using leaf blowers and why are people still on their cell phones while driving!!!? OH GOOD GAWD, I hope they start passing out tickets to Mars because I sure am going to be in the very front of that line! All right. Back to my men chapters. Now, the two I meet in front of the world's cutest seaside liquor store are very eager to trade biking stories with me, even though I wear ONLY my beloved button fly black Levis, yes even when I bike, and they are all bedecked in their lycra AND they have snap in shoes AND bikes so light you can lift them with one hand. They are bonafide bikers. So why oh why did they want to talk to me I wonder? But they talk. And talk. And tell me of riding to San Francisco, quitting their jobs to get the weed out of their systems, raising stepchildren, staying positive in a depressed and depressing country and we trade living in Chicago stories just like old friends. They tell me their names, tell me I look "really young for my age", and ride off with final waves and hope to see you again someday. They were friendly and awesome and cute in a funny sort of manly way and I did enjoy the time we spent and as I sit there eating my CORRECT kind of yummy bar thanks to a RECENT TIP from one of the worlds most forthright bloggers-a DARK CHOCOLATE CHERRY--Kind bar, oh so good!! VARRRRRROOOOM!!! Man chapter #3 pulls into the stall at my feet, because of course I have to be all nestled on the curb there, and he is an old acquaintance as well, and he proceeds to fill me in on how well he is doing and his motorcycle is very, very big and beautiful and he is working for a billionaire now and so he has to tell me all about that man AND the oh so important difference between millionaires and billionaires and it is so profound and stupid I already forgot it and just listening to him tell me about that wealthy, wealthy man and his gorgeous girlfriend who is also worth so, so much money, I feel that small dragon of money lust wake up within me, just a little, and start to purr in the direction of --ahhhhh!!! MONEY!!! Breaking Bad amounts of money!! UMMMM, what I could do with that money? his money? and I almost ALMOST think about kiddingly asking my friend to ask his boss if he would buy all of my FUCKING TAXMICE--sorry!!! I don't know where that came from--but I swallow the rest of my Kind bar, dust off my Levi's and ride away from that acquaintance of mine. Someday I want to get to a place where money is completely and totally inconsequential to me. I am close. I no longer think about it, add up my vast fortune every half hour, envy people with it, plot to get it, plan to get it, pray to get it, beg atm machines to explode as I walk past, work three jobs to make it--ahhh. Please let me be done with the curse of the love of the lust of acquiring the benjamins. So OK. The absolute LAST and BEST man chapter of all. The man I was riding so far to see is one of the very few on our planet who can be described as a true Renaissance man. You know, another side topic here--damn it!! This is why I was NOT a decent English teacher!!! I have a sneaky suspicion that I should have said THAT can be described, but damn it again--WHO sounds better!!! OK. I'm leaving it--but YES--honestly, he is a true Renaissance man. Looking great and smelling even better, he is gracious and kind as I get there. Unbelievably still, he is always ready to say something which keeps me holding on to my match can of ideas and dreams. He believes in me and tries to figure out a way for me to be successful and live a little more in ease. I think you could probably ride a bike for a month of Sundays and add many, many more man chapters to my never ending story before you could ever meet a man like my friend. He brings us mirage landscapes from the literary jungle and I imagine him, hour by hour, slicing the tissue and leaves and reconfiguring wee bits and pieces to reflect colors and patterns which appear as something they can never be. On the wall of the perfect little beachside store, they look like tiny windows into peace and solitude and calm. I sit in an uncomfortable but beautiful overstuffed chair and watch the tropical bird brightness of his guests hug and flutter around him and listen to their compliments and kind words and GEEZ LOUISE I hope my friend knows just how much he is respected, loved, and appreciated for his oh so many accomplishments in our community and probably even the entire galaxy itself. As I peddle home, I think about my friend. How I would not ride 20 DANG miles for anyone else. How grateful I am for his kindness and patience with my less than stellar personality. How lovely it was to rest my eyes on his new show. How fortunate I am that he is in my life. The sun is setting a bit now and man chapters are a ho hum part of my life, but this man who is my friend is someone true and special-an artist who deals in the landscape of books and letters, a writer who handles the writing of many, an intellectual great thinker who never hands out the condescension card-generous, lively, and terrific company. Oh yeah. and I told you that he smells really good. He does! I am closing this book right now, but not before I tell you about puppy sitting a little white dog!! YES!! Immediately after I rode all those miles home!! Here she is!! How could I resist? Now go buy my friend's art! And don't forget to go to Muddy Waters and buy THE GREATEST ARTIST IN THE WORLDS art!! And especially that fox for me!!! LOVE ALWAYS!!!