a mini ramp, and other stories
Me and Cathy partook in MC’s mini ramp a couple Saturdays ago, and EPM Rich was there, and here’s proof above and beyond the above proof. Yeah it was a quick five minute drive from my house after a morning of tying up loose ends, and suddenly there we were in a luscious garden with a bouquet of tranny to skate. You had to keep an eye on your board so’s not to crush any heads of lettuce or sweat peas. The boys had been pouring a bowl, a pool thingy, amazing stuff. Thank you, Mark!
Oh, let’s see, went skating yesterday too, but not because it was “GSD,” just because that’s what we do on a sunny Sunday here. And maybe that’s the point. Anyway, read this and think about it.
Mascis shreds
I stole this from Annie. A Dinosaur Jr. video. With J. Mascis ... skateboarding! And Lou Barlow, of course, fucking Lou is on a BMX bike. He would. Anyway, I do love me some Dinosaur Jr., most especially J. Mascis. I once saw him play at the Casbah in San Diego and his guitar sounded so good, so loud, so raw and dazzling...it was like getting showered with searing drops of honey. And of course, Dinosaur Jr. live means getting flattened with a fucking wall of sound.
Well with all that said, watch, and enjoy!
mistakes
Everyone makes mistakes, even me, like when I painted my fence purple this weekend. It seemed like a good idea at the time—I think I was picturing a garden in the Mediterranean, thick with vines and the smell of jasmine, the fence and house and all the surrounding homes each painted a different hue of jewel-like brilliance. But this is my back yard, and the purple looked pale and pasty, the color of a public bathroom or something.
How long will the repaint take, and what is the appropriate color? Best not to think about it right now.
june 11, that's all
It turns out that the summer solstice is only ten days away. The Northwest has been cloud-bound for the past days but I don’t really mind the cool weather. It’s good for skating, and I know that come July there will be blazing heat. No rush.
It’s strange, though, how much less sleep you need in the summertime in the north. Darkness doesn’t fall until 9:40 or so and dawn breaks at something like 5 a.m. When you’re outside till ten then eat dinner until 11 then fritter around for another couple hours, that puts you in bed past 1 am for no real reason, but then there’s the bright morning outside the open window only a few hours later with birds, squirrels, the roofing crew from next door etc, and a body wants to wake up when it’s morning, and so on and so forth.
Anyway, been reading this true story about a 16 year old boy who sailed around the world by himself starting in 1965. Can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to pilot a little boat through the jeweled islands of the South Seas, feasting off coconut meat and boiled barracuda. Two kittens named Joliette and Suzette keeping you company on board (cats like sailboats, isn’t that weird!). Anyhow, what I take away from the story is how little you need to subsist in this life—a pair of shorts, a hunting knife, a lifeboat, a sheltering cove for when the storm hits.
memo from the back deck
Gardening is one of the few things I can do to ensure that my filthy jeans and shirt aren't slowly becoming a shroud. I mean the pleasure to be gotten from putting things in the ground, tending them, and watching them grow is unprecedented. It keeps you alive. If you don't have a garden then I don't expect you to understand, but maybe you can still enjoy some scenes from my yard in these early days of June. Other highlights from the weekend include a veggie reuben at Dot's, Newberg with Billy and Cathy, quiet coffee mornings with Lance, and just a little bit of sunshine.
