4 june 2001

There's more than this.

In case you missed it the first time, or in case you forgot, i just have to tell everyone again that Poundhouse is the finest channel i've found on the internet. Get Macamp or Winamp and start grooving. Note: If you don't get house music, don't bother.

I have this old address that i used to use for the show. It's all but defunct, but occasionally someone remembers it and sends me a quick note. I received a general inquiry from someone asking if i was still on the air and i answered it with a general "no and i have no intentions of returning". Then he wrote back and made a royal ass of himself. Take a look for yourself.

I had fun answering that one.

It seems that i've had plenty of things to talk about lately. I am amazed that people have fallen for this Red Herring that there's some sort of energy crisis going on in the States; a myth that's being perpetuated by two people in the White House who have amassed their sizeable personal and political fortunes from high oil/ energy prices. Then when prices hit $1.50 for gas, people bellyache. But i guess it's every American's gawd given right to snivel like a spoiled fat brat. Let me sensitive and empathize with you for a moment, "boo hoo".

There.

No one wants to realize that gas isn't expensive. Keep in mind that in Japan, gas is $3.56 a gallon, in Deutschland, $3.66 and in the UK, it's $4.55. But don't take my word for it, Check it out for yourself. It's the taxes that are levied upon gas that's expensive. If you're one of those who actually believe that if the Alaskan wilderness is raped (one more time, boys! Just for good old times sake!), it's actually going to bring us cheaper gasoline prices (though it might on methane, which is easier to refine), then you need to be a LOT more cynical.

Oh, please notice that of all the prices listed on that page, the United States is the cheapest of all.

I'm too tired to write right now. When i get the energy back up, i'll explain why i refuse to see the latest Blight on Western Civilization from Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay: Pearl Harbor.

10 june 2001

Less than now.

My grandmother died about a year ago. Well, a little more than a year ago to be honest. She had suffered a heart attack in her sleep a two days before she left this world, and in doing so, she fulfilled a prophecy of sorts. See, three days before her heart attack, my grandmother had a dream. She shared this with my aunt, with whom she was living with in her last years.

She had a dream that Bill, my grandfather, had come to visit her. If memory serves me right, he was young in this dream. Anyway, he came to her and said he was coming to take her home. Five or so days later, he kept his word.

I was standing at the head of her bed when she finally stopped breathing. I was running my hand through her hair, which was softer than i ever thought it could be. And it may seem odd, or strange at best, but i couldn't stop looking at her hands. The nails were torn and jagged, her skin as thin and pliable as the thinnest of papers. Veins surfaced and dove and wove through her flesh in a tapestry of blood and of a life that was soon to end. They were coarse, withered and all but broken.

Indeed, the sands of time had ravaged her flesh and bones (among other things, 35 years of smoking didn't help) and as she lay there breathing less and less, i realized i had meant to take a picture of her hands for years. I never did. And while i will always regret it, i have a perfect image of them in my head that will last for as long as my flesh and mind endure.

I miss her. In her later years, she spoke less and less and i think she learned to just enjoy my ramblings. I tried to get her to talk more and more, but she always said she just wanted to hear what i had to say. I didn't see her as often as i should have, but i called her when i could. She taught me to grow plants, she and my grandfather taught us tolerance, or at least they gave us the chance to learn it. Mom (as she was always known to us) was always genuinely happy to hear or see any of us (cousins) and until my cousin JJ was brought into the family, she would always honestly tell me, "You're my favorite grandson." I always answered her, "Mom, i'm your ONLY grandson".

---

In other news: airfare from Austin to Portland is $376 for a round trip. Your generous donations of cash and/or a kayak will be appreciated. =)

22 june 2001

disassociated.

Something happened yesterday that brought something to the forefront that had not been aware of for some time. Well, not immediately aware of anyway. I was checking out at Central Market and the woman behind the register looks at me and says, "How are you doing today?" I didn't think anything of it and i didn't answer. Who knows? Maybe she's a teacher during regular hours, or maybe a dominatrix or heck, maybe a teacher dominatrix or a dominatrix teacher. Who knows? Anyway she looks at me and asks again, "How are you today?"

I looked at her dead on in the eyes and stared. She stopped running my groceries across the scanner. A moment, maybe two passed and i said, "I... i don't know." And i didn't. Of course she thought i was out of my fucking mind, but i just did not have an answer. There was no answer to give.

For the last two or so years, maybe more i can't remember... the word "disassociated" has been popping up in my head without much context. People talk of happiness and sadness and when the question comes to me, i just stare blankly at them. There is no answer. The words have no meaning.

And i wonder... i wonder if this is what it's supposed to be like... if this is what it means to get older.