"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind"

Batgirl sits next to me describing her favorite Bat Men. I tell her the name I chose for her is appropriate because Alicia Silverstone has similar hair color in her role in Batman and Robin. Batgirl responds by saying George Clooney is hot. She later says Robin is hotter though. We both agree Christian Bale is the best Batman, and I list in descending order Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer and George Clooney. I then suggest Adam West was a better Batman (to be sure Adam West was awesome for the role).

I love Batgirl. Our sexual chemistry is no basis for a relationship, although the chemistry has produced nice results in the past. The relationship as friends is awesome and I love it. We are talking now about menstruation and IUD's.

Hormones interact with people in interesting ways. Batgirl, like Tigress, cannot stand the hormones in pills. Something strange happened with Tigress; our sexual chemistry seemed to change after she got it put in. I didn't want it as much, and I have no idea why. She still loved it, and probably wanted more then I gave her, but that was mostly due to distance as relating to our different living situations (Seattle and Portland). Unicorn also had different temperaments depending on which pill she was on, and different body shapes and weight. She went from a skinny B-cup all the way to her current double D curvacious self (I liked all versions of her myself).

Dumbass. Don't bring up images like that anymore.

Thanks, self! Good fuckin' advice! Let's let fuckin' go of this cliff, the ground may be fogged but as far as it my be, I will sink into the soil without falling down or cause cracks in the rock without blinking an eye, and I will continue walking.

***

Batgirl is finishing her Christmas wrapping. I have put my finger down several times over the ribbon for her to tie over, and I am happy to be back in this place, this place of reality where love is found without attachment.

This is what it's lke, what it's like to disappear, the music of the spheres still ringing in my ear

I miss Jeff. I miss what I used to have. I miss everything I have given up, everything I cannot go back to.

There are people who know I miss them, and there are people who, like Jeff, can never know my true feelings.

I would like to believe he can, I would like to believe he can read my thoughts as I type these words, see my tears as they stream down my face without sound, wonder at the music we could make if we only existed on the same plane...

___

In any event, Jeff, what I can do is celebrate who you are. To that end, I am starting a collection of memories, photographs, and other things related to you which I will be publishing as a Christmas present for your family and whomever else wants a copy. This is what I will be spending the next week on.

The blur that has been my life in the last month shows no sign of becoming more defined, the images are not any sharper, but my purpose is becoming clearer. To that end, I shall keep playing music, keep writing, keep learning, keep being, keep loving.

"I Write in the Sky Every Day"

Los Angeles. First impressions were from a downtown parking garage's rooftop, which I was told by an irritated garage employee I wasn't allowed on:

(Video coming later)

Darrin's apartment was my next stop. I felt particularly touristy as I walked the two blocks from his apartment to the parking garage, which oddly enough I had to go through a Carl's Junior and KFC on the ground floor to exit; the touristy feeling was probably owing to the luggage I was laden with as I walked to Darrin's (laptop, suitcase, guitar, and walking stick). I was relieved to find the building quickly and easily, especially given the sudden heat I was unaccustomed to after being used to temperatures hovering near freezing in Oregon.

Darrin's apartment is a nice place. Making it nice that evening was the food he cooked for us, combined with the strange but comforting feeling of having Portland in alien Los Angeles in the person of Darrin. Good place, good food.





***

After sleeping in a nice amount I woke up and decided to play my guitar somewhere that wasn't Darrin's apartment. So I got directions to Pershing Park, and was on my way.

On the way there, a tall gentleman named Isaac with dreadlocks, dark sunglasses and a gold tooth wearing business-like attire saw my guitar and struck up a conversation with me. He asked how long I had played, and shared of his own musical aspirations. He told me he wanted to make a video in one of the video demo recording booths in Hollywood (I am not sure exactly where these are at or where to find more info about them, no luck yet). He said his voice was his instrument, and proceeded to demonstrate by rapping as we walked.

I am not sure exactly where he was headed before he met me, perhaps the bus or perhaps elsewhere, but he ended up following me to Pershing Park as he continued to rap. I would describe his words more like spontaneous poetry than most of the formulaic and somewhat predictably-worded hip-hop on the radio, and he is a pretty talented guy. I asked him if he practiced often, and he thought a moment before he replied, "I write in the sky every day."

In the park, he rapped while I played guitar without conception of anything in particular, other than whatever came to my mind. I liked it, and he matched me without missing a beat whether I was playing major, minor, 12-bar or more free-form stuff. It rocked.

Pershing Park, unbeknownst to me until I got there, is a level in the classic skating game Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3, one of the few games I have mastered in my life. Therefore, you can imagine how excited I was to see the actual park upon arrival. Here's a video of somebody playing the level on youtube:



I had many good times with this game.

Here are some photos of the actual park I took:






Before he left for the bus, Isaac exchanged contact info with me and gave me his email. He also gave me his cousin's business card, which points to http://www.stroymoyd.com. Apparently he had just supported his cousin's comedy act at UCLA. He invited me to perform at Unurban Cafe later, but I didn't end up making it...although in retrospect I wish I would have gone and played a couple songs for the open mic. Things turned out pretty fun anyway...

Later that evening I ended up at a party with Darrin's friend, and ended up hanging out with a random assortment of people, including a couple of somewhat attractive older woman who hit on me, a gay guy that also seemed to be hitting on me, another gay guy who didn't hit on me but told me I should go for Darrin's attractive female friend and also told me I should go for Darrin, explaining I can play for both teams before bemusedly knuckle-bumping me, and a kid who was the party hostess's son, who got me to play XBOX 360 with him. Oh, Los Angeles...

I ended up playing music with some of these characters, and it turns out Darrin's attractive female friend has a good voice (if I had everybody's names this would be less confusing, but I did not write this as soon as I should have, and I have forgotten names...not sure I would really like to describe them in too much detail for their own privacy reasons). The second gay guy also has musical talent, in addition to stories about things like having a bowl of M&M's being thrown at him by Jennifer Lopez, whom he describes as a "trash."

Oh, Los Angeles...

The next day, I made lunch for Darrin to pay him back for dinner the first night, macaroni and cheese and tuna with a bunch of random stuff thrown in (sour cream, additional cheese, miracle whip for the tuna. It turned out pretty awesome. Afterwards, I went upstairs, took most of my clothes off and chilled on the deserted rooftop pool area. I felt like I was on vacation.

That evening, I drove an hour out of my way to find the place where The Legend of Zelda: Hero of Time was screened at UCLA. It took awhile, mostly because I put the wrong address in my GPS and missed the first showing.

Luckily, there were two showings, and I made it in plenty of time for the second. I was distressed to find that parking was 7 dollars on campus in the garage, and ended having to drive a mile and a half away into a neighborhood that allowed non-resident parking. I was very pleased with myself...until I got lost on the way back to my car, which was annoying.

http://www.theherooftime.com/

This website has more info about the movie, and the public release in two days (December 14th) and where the movie can be streamed from. I met an interesting girl while I waited for the movie to start, who gave me her personal website's url (http://j4yx2.com) along with sharing other random conversation with me.

I gave another girl my number without asking for her name or even starting a conversation with her, just because I felt like it. I walked up to her, said "I have to give you my number." I then told her to get a hold of me if she ever wanted to talk to a random weird guy from Portland. I then walked away without saying anything else. She saved my number in her phone. I felt strangely good about the situation.

The movie, however...not so good. Pretty terrible, actually. But I loved it. I was interviewed by a writer for the Epoch times, who quoted me as "Mr. Triplett" in this review: http://www.theepochtimes.com/n2/content/view/25472/.
I struggled to not say how terrible I thought the film was, and focus on how much I loved it despite its faults. I wrote reviews on bad movies once upon a time, and loved slamming them in all their awfulness, but I don't have the heart to do that for a film shot on no budget, especially when the cast seemed to have so much fun with it.

Driving home that night was...interesting. After being relieved at finally locating my car (with the help of my GPS; would be in trouble without that) I drove around the beach for awhile as intense emotions punctuated conversations with close friends and family. More on that...never probably. I finally found a Wal-mart and slept for a few hours.

The next morning I made up my mind to return and set things right with Unicorn, without a clue as to how I was to do it. Didn't quite succeed, but that is another story I probably won't tell. After driving about 12 of the 15 hours, I found out my good friend Jeff Johnson was missing from his mother around two in the morning. Suddenly, everything changed.

Do you want to smoke out of the zong?

I don't care, Mr. Ferret, I don't care.

I am in Salem, and the time since Jeff died has felt like...a strange kind of fluid which is not at all fluid, a goo perhaps, a viscous liquid in which I am trapped, like sap that has no control over the outside temperature, a potential to be tapped like maple syrup or frozen into amber which mosquitoes may be drilled into for dinosaur DNA.

No, I have not smoked from a zong, or a joint, or any other mediums for illegal pleasure. I am, however, eager to chronicle my California road trips (I have been on two) and will do that soon, perhaps tonight. In the meantime, I have business to attend to.

I am static, clearing out to form split-second differences between modern art paintings and four year-old's scribbles,

forming into lines representational of a shape
inside the design of the painter's apartments
with colors strewn haphazardly on the walls,
better symbolizing truth than all logical deduction

I hate myself, says the lazy boy who works harder at being crazy than can be possible

as chaos can't order itself enough to work hard, as I understand it

only I understand the real challenge is the hill's top staring at me as it grows, and I realize I am growing muscles thicker than trees that have grown in these grounds for years;

I want to keep working this forge, keep burning on this pyre
Dying as I force rebirth from this fire
Flight or equanimity, I swear I can find the balance
Fight or play dead, running is the best way to build my lungs into machines efficient enough to support this light, flickers not so weak as the world that came before,

A man whose search is not in vain for a permanent light source.

If I die before I wake, take my soul down to the lake

Jeffrey Clites Johnson:

I miss you right now more than you could have ever known even as your body still drew breath, and now that your body is but a set of empty clothing, I wonder if you could ever know.

Fuck. Losing you is so indescribable; you have served to highlight what I failed to appreciate and understand. I asked Unicorn to marry me one more time after returning from California, and was on the 12th hour of the 15 hour drive when in southern Oregon I heard you were missing.

Of course, things never turn out the way we expect, but it seems that to be careful what you wish for leads to unfond regrets.

As for you, my friend who didn't know how much he was and is loved; Jeffrey Johnson: you teach me to appreciate every little thing, because it will be gone: impermanence is the only thing we can count on. I lose you, as I lose others...I undoubtedly make new acquaintances, but I am tired of letting go, and there are things I seem to lack the power to let go of.

I love you, Jeff Johnson, and I can regret not doing more all I want, and probably will continue to despite the best logic telling me to do otherwise, but I want instead to spend my life giving the best I can. I will slip up, I will fuck up, I will take steps backward before moving sideways before taking quantum leaps, and I will live.

For the sake of the love I bear you, I will live.

The four right chords could make me cry; when I'm with you I feel like I could die

No joke, it's been one of those weeks.

Third Eye Blind does make it better when the right part of the song comes on the radio at the right time, as it did before I arrived at this restaurant about a half hour ago.

---

Left Woodland late last night after unsuccessfully trying to chase down an escaped cat from my hostess's home. After wondering what the hell to to do next when the cat apparently vacated the property and was nowhere I could see, I proceeded to circle the house several times, wondering what the neighbor across the street was thinking about this stranger repeatedly wondering the property looking for something not visible.

It was quite a relief when i received a text message no to worry about the cat; next time I stay somewhere with animals I am asking about whether they are allowed outside first.

I got a gigantic animal style double double from In n Out as well as Animal style fries; was unable to finish the fries although I tried pretty hard (looks like I am a carnivore again for awhile; I will go back to the vegetarian thing when i can afford it better).

Sound on the seven hour drive to Valencia was provided by NOFX's greatest hits according to me disc two, a mix I made when I decided that their greatest hits collection sucked. Here is a link to the track listing in my very first blog.

2003 single "Franco UNAmerican":



After NOFX, I surfed the radio for awhile, landed briefly on a love jams show and felt very cliched in my emotional identification with the lyrics, then ended up turning down radio in favor of phone calls.

After thanking Craigh for his service in Vietnam (it was veterans day) I talked to Jana, and she looked up the am frequency for Coast to Coast AM with George Noory. I spent the next four hours listening to George talk to his guest Andrew D. Basiago about Project Pegasus, a secret government space-time travel program.

Interesting stuff. I doubt nine out of ten people would believe the guy, and I lean towards the nine, but hey I am always open to weird ideas. What is the most fucked up isn't whether or not the man is telling the truth; hell, he could be--what is the most fucked up in my estimation is that I wouldn't be surprised if it was true.

What is cool about Basiago is he speaks of the future as a beautiful place, so he isn't giving us doomsday predictions; he is just trying to expose a secret government time-traveling program!

So not a doomsday fringe figure, a benevolent one.

In any event, he has some interesting things to say, whether you believe it or not.

After driving awhile I decided to take the Pyramid Lake Exit for no certain reason, and drove to the nearly deserted campground. There were plenty of places right off the freeway for free camping, as a couple semi-trucks with their lights off demonstrates, but the campground down the road actually had the nerve to as for 16 bucks per vehicle!

Why pay to sleep when you can do it for free elsewhere?

---

I ended up getting gas at the flying J truck stop, which my GPS told me was the cheapest option (I am relying way to much on my phone and GPS). After filling my tank, I decided to see about the wireless internet advertised on the window. While I didn't find free wireless, what I did find was a truck stop well equipped enough to make me think that maybe truck driving wouldn't be such a bad career. Hell, I can drive six hours plus no problem, why not long haul?

Yeah, I know it is easier said then done, and I have a huge amount of respect for the sleep-lacking asshole-dodging truck drivers who have to do what they do every day; it can't be easy.

I drove to Valencia, and after driving around Six Flags: Magic Mountain's parking lot in the dark, I decided to find a Wal-mart and crash for the night. After reading Robert Jordan (with Brandon Sanderson)'s The Gathering Storm for awhile, I finally went to sleep at about 5 a.m. and woke up around 10 a.m. feeling uncomfortably warm. Temperature woke me up in my last Wal-mart too (Medford); except it was because I was cold. Staying warm got easier in a matter of days.

So here are some photos, and the Third Eye Blind song the title lyrics is taken from...great pop song still; I don't think I will ever get sick of it.





The truck stop is a great place to get gas, shower, sleep, get your hair cut AND get jewellry for your old woman!




Goodnight!



Next stop: Los Angeles.

Nobody's fault by mine

These pics are from the first California Exit, where the gas is 3.25 and you can buy liquor and tire chains to go with your ridiculously high priced fuel. In some ways more ridiculous is the fact that Highway 99 bears Jefferson Davis's name, a little known fact demonstrated by the rock above and explained here: http://www.fhwa.dot.gov/infrastructure/jdavis.cfm. Every time you travel highway 99 (which branches off into 99w and 99e in Oregon) you are traveling the Jefferson Davis Memorial Highway.

--

I rediscovered Zeppelin somewhere between Redding and Mt. Shasta, and I am so glad I did. Presence is an underrated record, especially when driving between Redding and Shasta at night. All Music Guide only gave it three out of five stars, confirming my suspicions with its review.

What's important is this record has some real awesome epics for twilight in Northern California, and accompanies my 80 mph semi-truck dodging interstate zooming nicely enough to justify repeat listens.

Aside from Zeppelin, an old Chili Peppers mixtape and The Best of the Doors (1985 collection) Disc Two served to provide sound.

--

I LOVE I-5 in Northern California! Curves so slender and intoxicating, 70 mph speed limit that really means feel free to go eighty, and so little traffic on a Tuesday night...this is why I love driving. If my car wasn't an automatic, it may have even been better (almost) than sex.

My only stop was to get gas in Redding, where I met a couple clerks that offered to sell me three corn dogs two chimichangas and a burrito for two dollars. They said they had to throw all the food out later, otherwise it would have been about two dollars per item. I obliged, and ate two corn dogs and a burrito on my way down, finishing off the chimichangas for breakfast/lunch earlier today.

And now I lay on Erin's couch, typing away as I wait for my laundry to dry. Erin is the owner of the couch I stayed on last night, and she can be found at couchsurfing.org. She is pursuing a Ph.D. in animal sciences at UC Davis and educated me about the alarming infertility rates in male animals around the world, including human males; our infertility has gone down 50%.

Well, in some ways that might not be such a bad thing. What is a bad thing is the lack of environmental regulations causing chemicals to seep freely into our water in the name of lower costs; this is what Erin says is responsible for the fertility issues. God bless capitalism!

I am thinking about heading to San Francisco then down the coast for awhile, but I have not made up my mind just yet. I need to find more couches to surf on. In the mean time, please enjoy this new preview of the Hero of Time!

Time is fucked up, life is fucked up, so let's get fucked up and have the time of our lives

The blog title is a direct (slightly paraphrased) quote from the homeless kid who shared his weed with me today in Lithia park.

It was good weed. I took two baby hits with barely an inhalation and I was strumming along happily on that guitar like nobody's business. It brought me happiness.

I am at the Ashland library looking out the window at the cloud covered hills. Here they are from a couple different windows from this second floor vantage point:



































---

I ended up in the park after the waitress at Louie's recommended the park as a point of interest after a slightly awkward silence.

This rings me to a slight tangent I just have to get out of the way.

Women that do not know me: just because I talk to you does not mean I want to have sex with you. I am just talking to you because I enjoy getting to know people. Sex is nice, but not with strangers. So for fuck's sake, have a conversation without the possibility of sex making it awkward in your head.

Okay, now back to the park.
















After walking through the park with my guitar on my back I hear some college looking kids asking if I smoke. I wondered if they meant weed.

Yep, that's what they meant.

***

After giving the homeless kid my book The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching I gave another kid a ride to the University, and set out to find this library.

And now, I head south.

Castles made of sand fall into the sea eventually

Alright I am in a restaurant and I think they want me to leave so I am going to keep this brief:

I am in Ashland at Louie's bar and grill (3.99 "Recession Buster burger and fries for breakfast/lunch!), slept in Medford's Wal-mart parking lot last night. Drove all night from Eugene to Medford; good drive!

Lots and Lots and LOTS of drama with women; lots to write about definitely but I am not sure I want to now. For the sake of the narrative that my Europe blog built up to, I should probably explain a few things about that, but I am just not sure I want to.

Here are a few other things that have happened in the last week:

-Got to see Erik and Matt!!! Good men those two.

-Did a deep clean of my old house with Andy's help, took nine frackin hours. Everything is packed in boxes now for the most part.

-Got to see Bill and Sarah again!

-Picked up a hitchhiker. He tried to kiss my friend Danielle. She was unperturbed.

-Leaving bullshit behind...but mostly taking it with me in my head. Just no getting rid of some things.

***

Next stop Woodland!

But I am just the narrator, and this just the prologue...

Finally accomplished all I wanted to in Portland. There are still a few more people to see, a camera battery to locate, and some possible work needing to be done on that crappy cell phone (hopefully it's just the charger) but I am ready to begin.

My friends are awesome. Chris S., Bill, Anya Crystal and Devon, Matt and Erik; thanks for letting me crash at your place. And thanks for your ears during this weird time! Andy, thank you for the variety of unexpected parting gifts, including but not limited to Silly Putty, books, candy, flash drive and frickin' police baton (hopefully I never use it). Jessica, thanks for the sociology books and the conversation, your advice has influenced me as well. Danny, thanks for the ear. And Adam, thanks for the paperwork on crazy laser weapons (and fixing my car whenever I need it!). Kim, thanks for the 5 am Voodoo Doughnut trip. Jeff S.; thanks for always telling me I'm an idiot. Sarah, Thanks for the delicious food and cupcakes!

Everyone else; I miss you already, and that is in no way an exaggeration. I am very grateful for everything we have. And now I plan to finish coffee and breakfast here at Shari's with my mom in Wilsonville, then head south, making my first stop in Salem, then Corvallis and Eugene. My rough agenda is to head to Grant's pass, then west to the coast, following 101 to San Francisco, then taking I-5 south. I plan to be in L.A. by the 14th for the Hero of Time premier.

_________

Wow.

I am back, and I have another trip to document. It started with drama, lots of drama, inspiring me to get away from the drama I inevitably feed...

Stay tuned.