Thursday, July 23, 2009

dreamy paradise for four hours

it started off a good, normal as it can get day filled with coffee and scrabble, then i entered airplanes and monsoons into the equation.
Waiting for take off from Saint louis the pilot told us we were on a half and hour delay, for a repair, so we could have air conditioning 30000 feet in space. After a four hour flight we were above phoenix engulfed in dark clouds, lightning, thunder and rain, holding on to the armrest with moist palms as the plane bobbed like an amusement ride circling the airport for an hour to find out that the airport was on lock down due to a monsoon. We back tracked to texas and landed in el paso. Here we waited on the tarmac for about three hours, motionless, unwatered, and unfed, and I was sitting next to this annoying high-school social studies teacher who kept making lame cracks about the weather to the flight attendants, who were totally pissed at him. Then after the three hours the captain finally told us that no terminals were open in el paso so we couldn't de-board the plane, and that finally phoenix was accepting planes. So we flew out over there experiencing intense turbulence, realizing that I missed my connecting flight to seattle. Got into arizona at 11:30, some 4 hours late. Nearly everyone on my plane was to catch a connecting flight and missed it, so the airline put everyone (over one hundred people) up in a hotel. I went outside to catch the shuttle to my hotel, it was nearing midnight and was 30 degrees celsius and humid as hell as it had previously been raining. The shuttle came and so did everyone on my plane like a herd of wildebeests chased by cheetahs fighting for the few seats. I ended up riding in the trunk with 3 other people from missouri and 12 suitcases. Finally got to my room at 1230 and called for a wake up call at 430. I awoke to the regular hotel pitch dark not knowing where I was, where I was going, if I was late, who I was with (if anyone) and I thought caitlin was with me. I was in a serious panic until i had my morning urination. I rushed outside to catch the 5am shuttle to the airport. There was a huge turquoise pool surrounded by palm trees and neon lights that lit up the dark sky casting odd colored shadows about. The rain was coming down and splashing the pool water as if invisible people were doing cannon balls into it. The spider web fork lightning would go off every thirty seconds and loud lightning followed, it was still about 30 degrees. It was too surreal, I still couldn't believe that I was there. I got to the airport, my eyes were blood shot and I looked like a zombie as I waited at my gate as crowds of people lined up beside me on their way to orange county (now thats a strange looking crew of folks). Finally made it to Seattle, where I am now. Back to the coniferous trees, back to the salty seas, lack of bugs, cold vast skies of white.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

schizos tearing down garages

saw a metal fabricated house, and met the eccentric owner. his entire house is made of metal panels that were put together on the spot. there are no holes in his walls, just magnets. we talked over beer and vodka. his thirteen year old schizo is eventually going to knock his garage down.
rode bikes to an abandoned coal factory where teenagers were setting off fireworks left over from july 4th. tonnes of old brick, steel, rust was being swallowed by fresh new vegetation. there is a lot of decay here, its beautiful, most of it i havent seen. came home met caitlins aunt and uncle, and watched a woody allen movie.
tomorrow i fly to seattle. i don't think i am ready to end my trip.

stephen harper and his music

last night after an amazing bbq that mark, caitlins moms boyfriend prepared i saw the best record collection. mark has a million records scattered about in the garage, and they range from all original pressings of underground punk, bizzarre jazz, humour, classical, and even a record on how to become a ventriliqust. The first devo record, the first stooges albums, and a "play bass with the ventures" album that he had signed by all of the ramones after he partied with them. he showed me alot of great music, and whats best is that he got most of his records for free or extremley cheap in dumpsters, back alleys, garage sales or estate sales, or when records were actually cheap when he was a kid. we all then went to a bar to see lynns (caitlins mom) and marks friend who owns the place. its called FSFU (Freds six feet under). There we saw Bob Reuter, a local photographer, writer and singer song writer who everyone is friends with, and a band whos bass player looked identical to Stephen Harper. Came home and went for a walk in the early morning hours drinking wine.