(no subject)
Sometimes I think I ought to post more. This is one of those times. Must be the influence of the simple, yet direct contemporary Icelandic short fiction I'm reading. Previously, I had been reading The Iliad and didn't want to do anything but have gay sex and slaughter people.
Several weeks ago I was in San Francisco, where I would move in a heartbeat because I left my heart there. I have never been in a place where humanity has fought and continues to fight nature in such a vigorous manner. Mountains, mud slides, earth quakes, lack of water...but it's well worth it. California is the most beautiful state I have visited. I walked among a delightfully urban landscape where the streets were like roller coasters. I walked through a forest (Muir Woods) where the trees, some as old as 1,000 years, were taller than a city building (258 feet). I raced around giant boulders before the surf could catch me at Stinson Beach, a small town that seems impossible to reach without twirling through miles of curving roads that hug the sides of vast hills. One night, I stood quietly waiting in the dark on the campus of Stanford University, I don't know where the hell I was but the Mission-style paved courtyard full of palm trees and sandstone arcades was delightful. I saw wild sea otters in Monterey Bay, the living art that is jellyfish in the aquarium, as well as the only great white shark in captivity. We looked each other in the eye and we both thought the same thing: "You look delicious." I met a fascinating man who offered me Scotch, told me stories, and showed me the pictures he took during his journalism tour of Iraq. Back again to San Francisco, where I explored hotels and partook of the gratuitous pleasure of riding windowed express elevators to the top floors. 43rd floor was nice. Much good food consumed. Much good time spent with friends. I reconnected with my closest friend, who is geographically always the farthest away. While the man-love doesn't quite reach Achilles and Patroclus status, there's definitely something special between us.
Yesterday, I went to the nicely renovated Paramount theater here in town to see Leahy. I don't actually own any of their albums, but I couldn't pass up a chance to see them live. The lead fiddle player is considered one of the greatest fiddle players on the planet and I like to spend time with greatness. Perhaps I hope some of it will rub off on me. More likely, it's the equivalent of traveling to a new place or climbing a new mountain. The experience is a gift not to be missed in this life. The piano player was pretty damn good, too. Great show.
Today, I bought my first pair of red jeans. I bought them not so much for the color, but because the pants fit me better than any pants I've worn in years. Damn those trendy loose fit and baggy styles! Where can a slim guy like me find pants that fit well? Apparently, there is only one pair, and they are RED.
There is a place called "The 007 Cafe" in Gordansville, VA. One day I will actually stop and go in. I wonder if they serve martinis.
WNRN played Swans and Celldweller, tonight. Awesome.
Several weeks ago I was in San Francisco, where I would move in a heartbeat because I left my heart there. I have never been in a place where humanity has fought and continues to fight nature in such a vigorous manner. Mountains, mud slides, earth quakes, lack of water...but it's well worth it. California is the most beautiful state I have visited. I walked among a delightfully urban landscape where the streets were like roller coasters. I walked through a forest (Muir Woods) where the trees, some as old as 1,000 years, were taller than a city building (258 feet). I raced around giant boulders before the surf could catch me at Stinson Beach, a small town that seems impossible to reach without twirling through miles of curving roads that hug the sides of vast hills. One night, I stood quietly waiting in the dark on the campus of Stanford University, I don't know where the hell I was but the Mission-style paved courtyard full of palm trees and sandstone arcades was delightful. I saw wild sea otters in Monterey Bay, the living art that is jellyfish in the aquarium, as well as the only great white shark in captivity. We looked each other in the eye and we both thought the same thing: "You look delicious." I met a fascinating man who offered me Scotch, told me stories, and showed me the pictures he took during his journalism tour of Iraq. Back again to San Francisco, where I explored hotels and partook of the gratuitous pleasure of riding windowed express elevators to the top floors. 43rd floor was nice. Much good food consumed. Much good time spent with friends. I reconnected with my closest friend, who is geographically always the farthest away. While the man-love doesn't quite reach Achilles and Patroclus status, there's definitely something special between us.
Yesterday, I went to the nicely renovated Paramount theater here in town to see Leahy. I don't actually own any of their albums, but I couldn't pass up a chance to see them live. The lead fiddle player is considered one of the greatest fiddle players on the planet and I like to spend time with greatness. Perhaps I hope some of it will rub off on me. More likely, it's the equivalent of traveling to a new place or climbing a new mountain. The experience is a gift not to be missed in this life. The piano player was pretty damn good, too. Great show.
Today, I bought my first pair of red jeans. I bought them not so much for the color, but because the pants fit me better than any pants I've worn in years. Damn those trendy loose fit and baggy styles! Where can a slim guy like me find pants that fit well? Apparently, there is only one pair, and they are RED.
There is a place called "The 007 Cafe" in Gordansville, VA. One day I will actually stop and go in. I wonder if they serve martinis.
WNRN played Swans and Celldweller, tonight. Awesome.