I went for a walk

Where Is My Soul?

2008-06-19T23:01:00.000-07:00

I cannot tell you how many nights I lay half-asleep... that realm where you Want to go to sleep, but just can't... So, as I lay there, I imagine myself in a 'safe place'...I imagine myself in a hiding place, where I can just get some peace of mind. And I say my prayers, but I don't think that's too effective in a direct sense... But in those long nights and extreme dreams, I was awake about 4 AM and all I could ask myself was, 'where is your soul?' where is it located? is it in the middle of your brain? in your chest?...is it spread out everywhere? where do you feel it the most? Lying in bed in the middle of the night, I had no immediate answer, but memories of childhood... happiness... being carefee as a child came to mind...the back seat of the car all to myself, while my parents rode in front and did all the thinking and worrying, so that train of thought ended and I'll try and do that again... Maybe the soul has no real physical location, but exists in memories such as that one, or exists in every visceral experience, like in everything we do and see, like leaves on a tree, we all see each other and wave and acknowlege each other.
I tried to pinpoint the location of my soul, but realized there is no real location, it flows all around.

My Songs

2008-03-03T00:46:00.000-08:00

Everyone has their favorite movies... judging from dvd sales, people buy them these days almost as much as they rent them. They are surely buying their favorite movies... I am one of those... I buy a dvd because I want to see it over and over, or I will save a movie on Tivo, for the same reason.

Because watching a favorite film, simply, is like listening to a favorite song... you just want to experience it over and over... I totally understand those who say, "geez, I've already seen that, why would I watch it again?" My own parents were a perfect example, I would send them dvd's or vhs tapes of films I knew they liked, "ummm, thank you danny, but we already saw these.."

It's ironic, because I know my mom likes to re-read books, like after five years she'll go back and read it again...For me, once I finish a book it's all done. And that's an example.. and.. an understanding of how people might feel about experiencing the same thing over again.... It takes a lot more time to read a book than watch a movie, and of course, a certain attention span, myself included... My Movies include epics, some are 3 hours long or longer, so I just watch them mini-series style... or I will fast forward to good scenes....and watch them again... nd again... like favorite song.

Uncle Joe

2008-01-11T14:44:00.000-08:00

My Uncle Joe went in for heart surgery yesterday, a septuple bypass!...He's the last living uncle I have, and the last bastion of an era... I'm sure Uncle Joe will be fine..he's one of those 'tough guys' you may have known...cocky and with a swagger...but deep down, very caring and generous.

When I was little, I would stay over at Aunt Carmen and Uncle Joe's during summer months, with my cousins, little Joe and Joanne, it was almost like a second family...Uncle Joe ruled the roost...and aunt Carmen wasn't far behind...He and my dad were brothers-in-law, and they were fast friends from the beginning, back in the 50's...it was HE who went with my dad to get hamburgers the morning I was born. I'm almost confused about what to write here.... obviously I hope and pray for his recovery...but I must admit, I was always intimidated and a little afraid of him when I was a kid...he was a stern disciplinarian...as some parents were, my dad included...

He has always been a hard worker, and again, back in the 60's when the G.I. Joe toys came out, me and my cousin, little Joe had a blast...playing war with those things...
"Hi Girls! playing with dolls again?" Uncle Joe would say....
The toughest part came around 1980, when I had kinda long hair and he couldn't help but comment, "hello hippie!" when I arrived, much to the consteration of myself and others.

But here is the dichotomy, after I graduated from college, he went out of his way to get me a job...he took me on a personal tour of FMC in San Jose, where he was a plant manager... and he spoke to me on personal terms, which he never had before. Uncle Joe is what you would call a 'conservative'....a staunch Republican...and...sometimes quite frankly an ol' redneck...but right now, all I know is that he's in bed. recovering....

Here's the cool thing about uncle Joe....he has an intelligence, or a self-awareness at least, to the point where he recognizes his current situation and will have the mind-set to heal quickly....he's that tough...

Me and My Arrow

2008-01-08T19:11:00.000-08:00

There's a really fun song by Harry Nillson, about a boy and his dog, and the words go...

"Me and my Arrow
takin' the high road
where ever we go
everyone knows
it's Me and my Arrow"

It's rather obscure, but I was humming that tune the other night while driving home, at the same time looking at the voltage meter. My truck needs a new alternator, so until I have enough cash to get it serviced, I have to swap out batteries and recharge them to just keep it running...

I apologize to my truck, as I do every day when I get in it, to go to work. I began to associate that song with my truck, like a faithful companion, like a faithful old dog. Then something amazing happened, "Me and My Arrow" came on the radio! What are the odds?! It was a 'God is in your radio' moment... and my truck seemed happy, as if it was saying, "don't worry, I know you'll fix me, and I'll always get you where you need to go...if I can."

Me and my truck go way back. I bought it brand new back in 1984, when it had only 6 miles on it. A 1984 Toyota 4x4... It came in sooo handy! (and still does). I remember about a couple weeks after I bought it, my buddy Mike and his girlfriend Berta came to visit, and Mike insisted on riding in the back... that was back when it was legal to do so...as I looked in the mirror as we went down the freeway, his eyes were sooooo wide, like he was on a roller coaster... I don't think he realized that this was a 'light' truck, not a full-sized bed like the Ford trucks... but he was cool... he's kind of a 'tough guy' but I'll never forget his face on his roller coaster ride.

I cannot count how many times I've helped people move... and I know what a pain in the butt is to move... but as long as it's not myself moving, I actually enjoy helping people move, it's like a fun outing, and it's always nice to feel 'useful'...

Back then, my friend Patty who I worked with would move about once or twice a year, so...I was naturally enlisted to help her. In 1987, my roommates' twin brother in Pleasant Hill was moving into a new house, and it seemed only natural... and a year later a buddy from Spectrum Holobyte needed moving. 'Me and My Arrow' again... and this was still back in the 80's!

There was only ONE time when the truck cut out on me, just the one time... on Christmas Eve no less! It was Christmas Eve 1987 and I was driving down to Tulare, CA where my parents live... but on hiway 99 the engine started cutting out, but would still rev on lower speeds... I called my parents' house, and like Knights, my dad and uncle Toody came to look for me... and searched up and down 99 until they found me on the shoulder, limping along ...they towed my poor little truck to the house.

The next day... my uncle tore the engine apart...he was an aircraft mechanic so he totally knew what he was doing, and seemed to relish in it. After cleaning the fuel lines and carburator, the three of us put it all back together, "okay, let's take it for a test ride."

So me and my uncle drove off... "pull onto the freeway.." so we did, and the truck seemed to run fine.

A car passed us at a much faster rate, like around 80 or 90.
"okay follow that guy"
"are you sure?"
"yeahhh, let's go."
"but the speedometer only goes to 85."
"don't worry about it, it'll go faster, let's go, floor it!"
So I did, silently saying 'sorry, truck' but at the same time admiring my uncle, not a sentimental man, but I admired his confidence in mechanics, and how machines can, and should work.

I didn't have my truck this whole time, but it stayed in the family. In 1990 I bought a sporty little convertible, and at that time, my dad was in the market for a truck, so he bought it, and he had it for 11 years... and took good care of it. That's just one of many things I learned from him (and uncle Toody!)...to always take care of your cars. Change the oil, that's the big thing.

Unfortunately my dad passed away in 2001, later my mom said, "why don't you just take your truck back? it just sits here." So I drove it back, and now here we are again, Me and my Arrow...to this day it comes in handy hauling stuff, still helping with moves, even myself!

And numerous times, I get people who say, "hey! you wanna sell your truck?"
It appears the Toyota trucks from '78 to '86 were a good batch...in demand, because they were just built good... I get waves from other guys in Toyota trucks of that era on the road...

I'll fix it as soon as I can...I owe it that much. Me and My Arrow.

Storm Clouds

2008-01-01T21:30:00.000-08:00

There's clouds overhead.... Thunderhead clouds that block the light of day. Not only for me, but everyone around me, and in the world. They seem to be gathering in an endless overture. The other day I saw one of the bright lights of hope and democracy in the middle east get assassinated...like John and Bobby Kennedy,a figure of hope and promise just cut down, but this time in a volatile country that has nuclear weapons. This is the state of the world these days, and I worry about these things...

I worry about the ice on the North Pole, melting at an alarming rate, 'The Arctic is screaming' say most environmental scientists.Polar bears may become extinct in the wild soon. I think global warming is here...

I worry that the top 1 percent of Americans make billions,meanwhile the middle class is squeezed more and more just to make ends meet.

I worry that that the near 400 BILLION dollars spent (so far) on the war in Iraq is mostly borrowed from China...no war bonds like in World War 2, most Americans can't or wouldn't buy those things for this war... a war without end, based on lies, it's a quagmire...

But mostly I worry about people I'm connected to... people who I'm close to who are sick, and I've been praying for them...and, yes well myself too... I'm not physically sick, but I'm soul-sick....I have been for some time now.... just, diminished. I find myself praying alot lately, and try to feel what it means,not just recite words... In some ways I think they're answered to some measure, but I think biggest answer is Hope... As these storm clouds gather...all around the world and in our lives... I have Hope it's gonna be okay... and I THINK it will! And in the new year instead of wanting to get back to better days, or wishing to... it's better to INTEND to.

Guardian Angels

2007-12-12T00:54:00.000-08:00

I believe in Guardian Angels, not necessarily the 'Angels from Above' stereotype in movies or books, but the very notion that there is such a thing. I've read stories about people's guardian angels...for example, a motorist who suddenly felt the urge to change lanes, just as a truck lost his tractor load right in front of where he would have been..."It must have been my guardian angel" he said....

And I think it might be true...and I think these angels might be all around us,all the time. Sometimes I think they just manisfest themselves in our lives...all the time, but sometimes we just don't notice.

Back in 1988, I went with my friend Mary to a 'psychic faire' in which you explore booths that offer past-life readings, 'auras' read, and all that kinda thing...I've always been open minded about metaphysical things, but was skeptical at the time, I had never been to one of these 'faires' and suspected alot of these folks were just charlatans... until I actually spoke to some... "you had a terrible injury recently, haven't you?" well, yes, I had...I had broken my leg and then some, but how would she know that?

It wasn't from the limp, I didn't have one by then... "You have Women around you... your ancestors... I see them waving... they want to help you, and they do"... hmmmm, yes well...okay.

But Then! I realized, in the very crucial moments of my life, it was true...it has always been Women...they have always saved my life....Why? I don't know, do I deserve this? right now I'm not so sure...

When I was a tiny little kid, I remember a day when a ton of little toy cars were promised to me by my mom, that her customer had given her....but she had forgotten to bring them home that day, and I cried like a spoiled child.... so she drove all the way back to work and got them for me. That's just a simple example of how loving and kind she has always been, countless times even to this day, as she has helped me out during my recent struggles.

In 1983 I was fresh out of school and applied to an ad in the San Jose Mercury newspaper about an illustrator job.... I got an interview and went in, Adria interviewed me.... she said later that she was impressed that I wore a suit, but mostly that my artwork was good, and that she 'liked me'...that, to me was the most important thing, that she liked me, I was sooo happy! Her hiring me was like a foot in the door to my career as an artist. After I was laid off, she continued to hire me on a freelance basis and I kept going.

In the 80's I would always feel lonliness, I was on my own and I missed my friends from college. I didn't really know anyone in the East Bay where I lived...oh, I suppose I could have joined a 'volunteer group' or whatever, but it wasn't me, I've always had a shyness that is sometimes a hinderance even now, but especially back then... I got a contracting job at an engineering firm in 1986 and there was a great group of people there! They had a sense of humor and banter that I soaked up like a sponge. One girl, Mimi, had a fun circle of friends and she was nice enough to invite me to her Halloween party...from then on, I became one of her circle, to this day...

On August 25, 1988 I had a bad accident... I fell off the fire escape of the apartment I was living at the time in Oakland. I fell 30 feet to concrete steps and basically broke the left side of my body...and you could have set your watch to it.. a minute later a woman came by and I asked "can you call 911 for me?"

She was awesome. She rushed back to her mom's and they called 911, then they both came back and stayed with me until the ambulance arrived...they were guardian angels, right there... at the right time. Fast Forward a year or so... I got a job at a great place with a ton of great people...I had the difficult task of interviewing new artists..... it was a time when 'let's get any warm body in here' was the norm... I interviewed a charming woman from South Africa, Vicky, whose work was sufficient enough that I hired her... 4 months later she quit, having found a better paying job in Marin. About a year later I got laid off again, so I networked and made some calls... I called Vicky and I'll never forget the conversation, it was so simple, "Hi Vicky I was just calling to let you know I'm no longer working at Spectrum Holobyte." "Oh! great! when can you come in??"

So that was it... two days later I came in and was hired. Mike, the manager said 'Vicky kept singing your praises and your stuff looks good'...so once again.... saved by a woman... Well those were good years, and during that time, I was working on a football game. I was the only artist on the project, while other projects had 3 to 4 artists...I was under some stress with the workload, and finally Dave said, 'can you find another artist to help you?'...and sure enough...you could have set you watch to it... 10 minutes later a girl named Shawn came by and said, "do you need help in Football?" I literally raised my eyes and said 'thank you!'.... Shawn was a Guardian Angel then, and especially now... she has become my close friend, has welcomed me into her wonderful family, and has been my buddy, and has saved me in so many ways,through good times and bad... she is a ray of sunlight and color in an otherwise gray world these days, and I love her for that...

These are my guardian angels... I think my female ancestors are still waving.

Still Walkin'

2007-11-29T16:17:00.000-08:00

About two years ago, I started a blog called 'I Went For a Walk', which
was to chronicle the events when I sold my house. As Blogger changed formats, I've
had a hard time logging on to my old blog...hopefully soon I can get back on, sometimes
I come close...
Anyway, where to begin?!?....well I'm still on that raft, treading water...I
live from day to day, never allowing myself to dwell on the seriousness of the situation,
just happy to still be here, with a roof over my head, food to eat...but lately
I've been realizing that this no way to go through life....with an elephant
in the room.
I got a 'survival job' at a grocery store, which I wouldn't recommend to anyone,
it's hard work and the pay is low, but in a certain way it has breathed a bit
of life into what was an otherwise stagnant existence...I've never been what
you'd call a 'people person', pretty much an introvert, but I've
always had good social skills...that is, I can converse with a certain wit and banter
with just about anyone, some more that others, but I just don't Thrive off of
it like extroverts can. I admire and envy extroverts, I wish I could be one, but
it's not in my makeup or personality or DNA or whatever...Anyway, as hard as
it sometimes is, I think there is some good in my doing this, because I get out
there, WAY out of my comfort zone and face the public each day. At first it was
hard, but it gets easier...like I mentioned before, some people I can instantly
connect with...so let me use this as a first step, as a positive thing.
I've always used the 'Raft on an Ocean' metaphor to describe my situation...to
enhance the metaphor, I can say that this ocean I'm in, is an ocean of denial.
Did I ever really need to be in a raft at all?
Well what's done is done...I dare not look back and think of what might have
been, if I did that, I would surely be a bitter person who looked at life darkly,
full of regret...I won't go there, nuh-uh...
I can only go from here, and thank God for the good things I do have...my dear mother,
my dear friends, and everyone else in what has been a sweet life overall.

My cousin Toody

2007-04-10T22:39:00.000-07:00

My cousin died on Easter, just like everone else...a very bizarre and eerie thing. Two uncles, and my Grandma died on Easter Sunday. If that is a certain coincidence, then that's fine...if there's a metaphysical thing here, or any kind of spiritual connection to any of this, I am totally open to that too.
Anyway, my cousin had a heart condition, and he died peacefully in his sleep, and right now I miss him. We called him 'Little Toody' after his dad, Big Toody...those were their nicknames.
His name was Arthur...or just Art....He was born in 1947 and I only remember his name as "Little Toody". I wish I had known more about him, because I never really saw him that much as we got older, but when we were kids, he and his brother Mike would come to visit from LA, and they were always a barrel of laughs.
It's really hard to describe how funny he was, you just had to be there...Like his dad...he had a definite Wit!
Just listening to his fun voice...I miss him already..
Cousin Toody's gone...but, like everyone else who's gone, he will live on in my memory.

Service Stations

2007-03-06T21:39:00.000-08:00

Nowadays, there are gas stations, where you pay-at-the-pump with your card, with a convenience store there at the cash register, where you can buy potato chips or a microwavable burrito. And usually you pump your own gas...
When I was little, I remember when there were "service stations"...oh, there's still some around, with 'full-serve' but not very many. You would pull into the station and run over a cord on the ground, *Ding-Ding* and an attendant would come out and pump the gas for you, "fill 'er up with regular, please"...
Also, there were mechanics on hand, with service bays where you could get your oil changed, or have your brakes done, or many other repairs, usually for a reasonable price.
I discovered such a station very close to where I live, so I had my battery re-charged for only 9 bucks...such a deal! And the guys there are old-school, with a ton of cars being worked on, so you know this is a popular place to get your car serviced.
It's like a blast from the past, I'm glad it's there!

Do you ever go read your old posts?

2007-03-06T00:50:00.000-08:00

I did this recently, go back and read the original posts when I first started on here, and ohhh maaan! my only reaction was...did *I* write that?? Was I that eloquent? that estute?...did I write those things with a certain passion and precision, with an instinctive need to express things in such a way, that I didn't even realize it at the time?...
And in reading later posts...I noticed they de-volved into ramblings about this and that...historical observances that maybe were a little too esoteric....
my musical posts...my family history in the third person...
But I'm thankful for the handfull of those who have read them!...thanks everybody!

The Road to Shambala

2007-03-06T00:15:00.000-08:00

"Wash away my trouble
wash away my pain
with the rain of Shambala,
wash away my sorrow
wash away my shame
with the rain of Shambala"

These are the opening lyrics to the old chestnut, "Shambala" by the band Three Dog Night back in...oh, around 1972 or so...I heard it again the other night in the current tv show Lost, and I thought, oh my! what a cool song that was!...
Well I guess at the time when it was written, when the whole eastern mysticism thing was in vogue, like when the Beatles traveled to India and all that...others jumped on the bandwagon.
But at this point it doesn't matter!
A cool song is a cool song, and they stand the test of time...

"Everyone is helpful
Everyone is kind
on the road to Shambala
Everyone is lucky
Everyone is fine
on the road to Shambala..."

May you all find this same kind of road...no matter what your faith in life might be, I hope you find your road to Shambala, however you define it....and I'll keep looking for mine!

October 14, 1982

2007-03-02T00:07:00.000-08:00

Little Danny had grown up...having graduated from college and was now traveling throughout Europe, there was one thing going on with him....he was lonely, and feeling a bit empty....
He was used to doing things and going places on his own, he'd done it his whole life. But the immense distance had an effect on his sense of isolation. Even then, he was only a 24 year old man...or more likely, still a boy.
Danny took the bus from the Salisbury station to Glastonbury, England...where the
burial remains of King Arthur himself was said to be buried, though of course, just a legend...but there was also the legend of Joseph of Aramathea, who came by boat to England, carrying the Holy Grail itself...and landed there all those years ago. It was were the very first cross was planted in Britain.
Well, Danny absorbed the legends and soaked it all in when he got to Glastonbury, until he came upon a small chapel there, with a small sign that said, "Offer a Simple Prayer"...
Danny got on his knees, and...not being an overly religious person, though having been to Sunday School and all that, Danny found himself earnestly praying...
"Jesus, forgive me, I feel as though I am so far away from you. Please help me find my way back, please help me to come to know you again, and stay with me....just...stay with me" and Danny was in tears....and they flowed. Tears of shame, joy, lonliness...emotion.
But he knew...whether or not this site contained actual relics or not, or if the ground he was on contained a spiritual energy, he wondered where those spiritual feeling came from ....well, those were real enough. And when he climbed up on Glastonbury Hill where an ancient cathedral stood, he looked out at the horizon, rolling green hills and an endless sky...and he believed.

All the Places You've Worked

2007-03-01T22:05:00.000-08:00

Can you remember all the places you've ever worked?
Do you remember your very first job? Do you remember the best job you ever had? Do you remember your LEAST favorite job ever?
Now....if you can remember them, what do you remember most about those jobs? Was it the work itself? The building?
Think about it now!...way back when, when you think about any place you used to work, what do you remember the most about that place?
Well, for me it's the people I was there with....It's the People! of course! the one's with whom you would spend an entire day...day after day...and month after month...and year after year.
I remember specific tasks from nearly 20 years ago, but I remember mostly the banter Tim and Jeff and Jody and I had in the Art Room twenty years ago.
Nearly all of my best friends in the world, I've met them there...at work...
And there are those who I think *really* could have been great friends, and had there been a certain connection or circumstance...or maybe persistence in either of our parts at the time...who knows what could have happened then?
Well, those friendships didn't happen for one reason or another...and I lament that.
But I AM grateful for the people I have found...and I found them at work...I think that no matter what you find there...sometimes Fate brings us together...I'm certainly not an expert in any of this...but I do know that in a certain way, fate brings some of us together.

I Want To Dance

2007-02-27T23:10:00.000-08:00

Have you ever attended a wedding, or a fun party where everyone gets up and dances? It takes a certain song...the one that gets you, and everone! just movin'...It's been awhile, but I miss dancing, like when everyone is out there having fun, movin' and groovin' to the music...and when everyone is out there, it doesn't matter HOW you dance, you just dance.
I'm not really a fan of Madonna, never have been really, but when I hear her song, "Express Yourself" ...in the emptiness of the aisle there...all I want to do is just dance to it, and I imagine myself out there just dancing with all my friends, everyone!
As the music goes, I imagine the dance moves of everyone...

And I wish we were all out there, dancing!....
God Dang I Wanna Dance Again!

Songwriters

2007-02-23T21:21:00.000-08:00

Oh I admire songwriters so much, because they are truly poets...artists...their words are set to music of course, but it's the words themselves...words that can touch your soul, or at least wave hello to it.
I recently received a book of poetry, and, having read through some of it...there was something missing...oh, some were good, the words were very visual and striking...but there was something missing, ahhh! music? I don't mean that every poem must be a song lyric, but every song lyric is a poem...if that makes sense...
I admire songwriters...
Not only the ones who write the songs, but the ones who can write and perform their own songs as well.
But mostly, yes, there's the poetry of the lyrics, as they weave it into a melody, and hence, a gorgeous song...
You all know Bono, of the band U2 of course...I would say he's a good one. "The Joshua Tree" by U2 is one of the best records ever written, his real name is Paul Hewson, and, like a traditional Irishman, he's a wonderful writer.
Neil Peart, he's the drummer in the band Rush, one of the most insightful lyricists ever, in my humble opinion anyway, he has written 3 books, and is working on a fourth...
Dolly Parton, bless her heart...she said she will never need a shrink, because she can write songs, and everything goes into them...
Ohhh, there are a ton of others, very gifted songwriters...another, Julie Miller, though I'm not completely famliar with her music, but I know about her, and her passion for her music...and her words.
And others, Jimi Hendrix, known mostly as a guitar guy from the 60's...he wrote "Little Wing" and "The Wind Cries Mary" The words to those songs are beautiful. Like poems...
Oh how I wish I could pour a certain feeling or emotion into a few choice words that may touch others...how I wish I could do anything in that way.
But people who have the gift of words AND the gift of music...songwriters...they touch me.
And they are indeed...special.

George Bailey

2007-02-17T09:18:00.000-08:00

Does the name George Bailey ring a bell to you? He was a man who received a great gift. He was visited by a Guardian Angel.
George was a good man, a good guy to know...but then trouble came upon him, and he had nowhere to turn...
"Dear Lord, if you're up there...look, I'm not a praying man, but if you're up there, I need you to listen, please....I'm at the end of my rope. I'm not asking for nothin' except...show me the way...please....just show me the way."
That of course was the George Bailey character played by Jimmy Stewart in the movie "It's A Wonderful Life."
That one scene always gets the ball rolling for me emotionally, as do other scenes there...
well, especially lately...
I can relate to the George Bailey character in a unique way, in that I too have received a gift. Though mine came in a strange package, like a Trojan Horse. My gift was an insight I didn't even know existed, because I never paid attention. Or more precisely, I was never AWAKE to pay attention...
As I mentioned earlier, I stay up all night at work, usually by myself in a grocery aisle with a whirlwind of thoughts. My deepest concerns and insecurities have always come in the middle of the night, but I was always in bed, half asleep between dreams, and then they would pass and I'd fall asleep again.
But now, interestingly, those thoughts and concerns still come at the same time (you could set your watch to it!) but this time I'm wide awake, and they are much more vivid. Like a rushing river that can change at regular intervals, yeah..and its cool.. but sometimes they come in torrents, like boxes falling out of a truck...and I become worried and concerned and afraid and lonely there in the aisle....okay, well boo hoo.
I think the human brain is very much like a computer, though not totally, I'm just referring to the memory part....As a computer has files and folders that are long forgotten or unused, or even deleted...they're still in there, all it takes is a certain catalyst...and then bam!
My catalyst is those waking hours at night.

Sometimes I think I need a good psychiatrist...at least to assist me in navigating the torrents of thoughts, emotions, memories, and myriads of trivia that never ends...conversations that ocurred back in 1972 that mean absolutely nothing, episodes of old tv shows.....oh man, I could go on and on....

Well, now then, back to George Bailey...in the movie, he was despondent....and his gift was a Guardian Angel, 'Clarence' who showed George what his life would be like had he never lived (well, we all know the movie)...George was despondent because he felt his life no longer mattered, and no one would care...but that was never true...George had friends!
When I see that scene at the end, well....sorry, I still lose it...(Why can't I be like George!) I rage to no one but myself.
Well. here's where MY gift comes in...In my torrent of thoughts, think I can Chart them!...not navigate them, but chart them, much like a meteorologist can chart the weather. He can't predict it, he can't say where a certain drop of rain will fall during a hurricane, but he can chart the path....
And I can at least chart how I feel...
I can chart the basic emotions...
I can chart Anger...that's an emotion that everyone has, but I try to discard it, it's a very corrosive feeling, And...like like 'worry' it doesn't really change anything.
I can chart Fear...same thing...
oh...
But I CAN chart Grief...oh yeah I can chart that one,
You see...I grieve...I think I carry a certain sadness that I never recognize in daily life, but it carries on at night, and all those emotions and mental circumstances that come in the middle of the night. It often plagues me.
I miss my life...I miss my Dad (can you hear me up there?) And then I wonder, do we
all carry on in this way? do we carry a kind of grief that we wont acknowledge or admit?
Maybe we all do...
Whenever I see a blind person, or someone in a wheelchair....I feel foolish and selfish for even thinking of myself, and my own stupid problems.
George Bailey...
he had a great gift, he had a guardian angel to come down and show him things...
Me...I have guardian angels too....
and those would be my friends...and I love them.

Shipmates

2007-02-17T07:32:00.000-08:00

A few days before Christmas, I was strolling through a department store when I caught a glimpse of someone I knew. It was Lincoln, a guy I used to work with. At first, my initial reaction was to hide...I don't know why, shyness? unease? But then a moment later I thought, "hey wait a minute, I KNOW this guy! we spent years together every day, like shipmates..."
So I waited until he walked past, "hey Lincoln!"
He was startled for a second, "oh my god! hey Dan! how ya doin'!" and we shook hands with genuine smiles and an instant feeling of camaraderie. As it should be...when you work with someone every day, for months or years, there's a certain bond...even if you weren't necessarily 'friends' there is still that bond of knowing someone every day. And you do come to know them....
We chatted for a bit, I asked him about his music, his son.... and whether he was still working as a computer artist. He said "nooo, I've tried and I've tried..."
I said "yeah, me too. I work at Safeway now...
"phhht yeahh, well hey, work is work!"
So we said bye, and as we went on our way, at the same moment we both looked back and we gave each other a little salute!...And it struck me, where did that come from? Maybe because we always worked on military type games, and were immersed in that?...or did ol' Lincold think the same thing I did...that we were once shipmates, on a good ship, and we both missed those times.

The Moth

2007-02-08T23:57:00.000-08:00

When I got home earier today, I saw a small moth on the wet ground, his wings were wet, sort of pinned to the pavement..his legs were kicking, he just wanted to get up and fly again.
Now, in my experience I've killed a ton of bugs....but this time I could see that this guy was just trying to get back on his feet....he struggled and struggled...so I tried help him, I tried flicking him over to the dry side of the pavement...but he still struggled, his wings were still wet...I knew that if you try wipe a butterfy's wings, they'll never fly again...so much so with a moth. I found it odd that I was so riveted on this poor little thing. Perhaps I saw his struggle as a reflection of my own, as I struggle to 'fly' again.
"Come on...come on buddy! you can do it!" I tried propping him up but the poor thing's legs kicked for the last time, and he died....
The poor little moth...I felt sorry for it.
But me, I'm still flappin'.

Simon and Garfunkel

2007-02-08T23:10:00.000-08:00

I have been listening to an old casette tape, "Simon and Garfunkel, Live in Central Park" and on man these are truly great songs!...."Homeward Bound", Mrs. Robinson", "America", "The Boxer", "Scarborough Fair"...
Fantastic and heartfelt songs...and all written by Paul Simon...
But on their latest tour Paul admitted why they don't sing or record or tour anymore...it just seems so stupid..."Art and I just don't get along! we just don't...It seems petty, but when we're doing "Bridge Over Troubled Water" and Art's voice soars, and the audience soars, hey wait a minute....that's my song! Why are they cheering Art, when I wrote that?"
Well at least he admits it. But it all seems so incongruous and unnecessary.
I'm glad their songs have touched our lives. Paul Simon is an astonishing songwriter.
But please, does he and Art really need to be this petty now? They have a ton of money, their songs are immortal...it would be nice to see a little humility and just focus on the music, like in the beginning.

Graham Crackers and Milk

2007-02-08T00:34:00.000-08:00

One of the best things in life for me is a glass of cold milk and some graham crackers...to dunk them in...and old tv shows or movies on a warm couch.
If I ever get to heaven, I hope those will be there.

The Reptiles

2007-02-05T23:23:00.000-08:00

Have you ever noticed how the people you meet, the people you have known, and even more precisely, the people you love, family and friends....are they generally 'nice'? Do they have a side to them that can be described as 'not nice'?...That is, a behavior that can be described as Mean or Cruel?
I think that's in all of us, The Reptile....though in some, it's more on the surface. Behavior that disregards the feelings of others...on one end, inconsiderate...on the other, sociopathic....
I have always regarded every human I meet as a mammal, and that's what humans are, like puppies, kittens, and yes, even chimps in the wild...mammals, who care about their young, who show affection and loyalty and bonding...
But Reptiles...they're cold, they lay their eggs and move on, with no regard for what they leave behind, and yet they survive...
I think there is Mammal and Reptile in all of us...I think most of us care for our family and friends, as we should...
I have Always tried to be a Mammal, and I think I have, that's my nature I think.
But sometimes, and for some of us, there is a cold ruthlessness in there too...the Reptile,
I have known people who are just that...cold blooded, a hard scaled skin...zero remorse...
Maybe they're more in tuned to 'the bad part' of socialized behavior and just don't care...The part that comes out when you're angry, the part that comes out when you're despondent, the part that comes when you just want to lash out. Like an Alligator may swish its tail, but sometimes they're cool, he couldn't help being born a reptile.

"Ihe Borderlands"

2007-02-01T23:03:00.000-08:00

We all have dreams when we sleep, most of them are forgettable, even when we wake up...but some are certainly not. I don't know where all dreams come from, most psychologists and dream analysts will say that every symbol in a dream represents a certain thing, that is, generally...how you 'felt' in the dream means how you feel in waking life.
Okay, fine....but I had that 'Borderline' dream....and I had it again!
In the first one, I dreamed that I was getting on a ride at Disneyland, called, The Borderlands.....in this ride, you could visit the past!
And on my ride, I landed on the front lawn of my grandparents, my mom's parents...back in the 1930's
There they were, my grandparents...they were, young, in their 30's, right out there in the front yard. Everything about their house was so vivid, like the old-fashioned narrow driveway with the cement wheelways and the grass center, a narrow driveway obviously designed for Model T Fords.
And there was a ton of other details around their yard, like the flourishing avocado tree that had been cut down before I was born.
"Hey Grandpa! Grandma! It's meee! Danny!"
I shouted and shouted!
My grandfather, young and strong and lean at the time, looked around like he had heard something. He turned to his wife as if to say, "did you hear something?" She shook her head no...
"Grandma! it's mee!"
He turned his head again, sure he heard something!
"OKAY, RIDE IS NOW OVER, PLEASE KEEP YOUR HANDS AND FEET INSIDE THE CAR"
As I got out, I told the ride attendant of my experience...
"oh yeahh, we get alot of those same experiences...sometimes when you go back, they hear you...but to them, you're only like ghosts."
Whew!...that dream was sooo real...I still wonder, was it really them?

Paper Blood

2007-01-31T23:51:00.000-08:00

Way back in the 80's I used to drive in to San Francisco, sometimes I took Bart...anyway, one time I was sitting there in traffic, and I noticed a homeless guy going through a dumpster, and on the left, a stretch limo.... with two poodles in the back! with their froo-froo haircuts, obviously back from their groomer, the driver looked straight ahead as he waited there in traffic...
Meanwhile the homeless guy rummaged through the garbage bin...
It struck me at the time as incredibly ironic...shouldn't the Man be in the car? and the Dogs be over there in the bin?
No, this time, not here. It was all about the Money...
Money allowed the dogs to have the Limo, and the lack of Money caused the guy to be homeless...
Money is like Blood...Paper Blood...it flows through society and through our very lives, like blood through our veins.
It's what we need, it's what we want...It cuts through every aspect of everyday life...if you have some, you're cool...if you have none, you're screwed..
Paper Blood.

A Glimpse of the Sun

2007-01-31T20:34:00.000-08:00

As you may have read, I've been working at the night crew.
I thought I may have caught a slight view of Life today...that is, I had a glimpse of what life was like, back when I had one...
On Monday, I drove back from a meeting, feeling flushed, feeling full of life,
"This drawing is awesome, now...Can you translate this next slope, in a drawing? Notice the 10 degree slope..."
"oh yes of course, you'll need to show that..."
"We'll need more drawings on this scale, you do 3D right?"
"oh yeah!"
"okay cool, can you do a 3D model based on these blueprints? and then paste them on layers?"
"oh yeah"
And this is how I ended a meeting where I felt Full, in other words....Alive again.
On most nights when I go in there to Safeway I have sometimes felt as though I'm somehow 'above' these people...I think to myself, 'I can't wait to get outta here...away from you damn PRIMATES!....and then I instantly feel a wave of remorse...in other words,
How am I different from these people? I'm in the same place they are, and I recognize that my smugness is hollow...
Juan is my buddy!...Nolan at 4, he's cool too...
I tried to explain to them, what it meant to me to get this cool gig, and how I was able to discuss really technical stuff, and then...uuh...uuh..well, okay, never mind.
All I know is, when I was sitting there at that starbucks I felt alive again.
These guys are certainly not primates, they are human beings who are just trying to earn a living, as we all do...

In the Middle of the Night

2007-01-21T21:57:00.000-08:00

In the middle of the night, most people are asleep...that's where I'd like to be...and, remembering where I used to be, in bed...I remember my thoughts, my fears in the middle of the night...
But now, I am up all night, and all of those thoughts and fears hit me....and they hit me hard.
I think that I have somehow redeemed myself, as far as being lazy, oh no...oh hell no, I have been working my ass off, like never before...
Here's the thing...in the middle of the night, those fears that used to hit me in bed...they hit me full throttle when I sit there stocking shelves.
I'm left alone with my stupid mind...A ton of memories, a ton of idiodic things...A ton of memories that only I know about, and nobody in the world will ever know...or care about.
Sometimes I think that I'm going quite insane, it's as though a thousand TV channels are going through my brain, and I try to change the channel and organize them, and yet....I turn them off and I can't get past this fact...
Anyway...In the middle of the night I asked myself a really big question....When you got laid off back then, did that make you a loser?...or did that expose you as one?
Oh man

My Cousin Joe

2007-01-20T20:21:00.000-08:00

Since I grew up as an only child, my cousins were my surrogate 'siblings' since I spent plenty of time with them when I was a kid, especially staying over my cousin Joe's...summer after summer when I was a kid, he always cracked me up then. He was one of those 'terrors' when he was little, breaking every toy I would bring over, with a sense of joy and fulfillment...and a laugh...a sense of humour.
In an earlier post, I mentioned how drawn I am to people with a natural sense of humour, who can laugh easily and anything and everything.
One time when Joe was about 1 or 2, he crawled into the fireplace and covered himself with ashes, my Aunt Carmen shouted, "Godaaammit Joe get the hell outta there!" and he only just cracked up, which made me crack up, "You be quiet Danny! this is not funny!"
ohhhh, but it was funny...ohhh it surely was, to me anyway.
In another time, Joe kept climbing over the seats of the car when I went grocery shopping with them, he did a flip over the seat and landed on the grocery bags, "Goddammiiiiit!"
(heeheeeheeeheeeee when you're a kid)
That evening, my dad, who came to pick me up each night, stayed for dinner, my aunt put this smashed loaf of bread on the table,
"I want you to LOOK at a this bread!"
"what happened? who sat on it?"
"THIS guy landed on it!" hahahaha all around the table...
The one real crack-up came when Joe and I were having lunch over there, chicken noodle soup...my aunt was reading the paper and started laughing...
"hey here's a funny Dennis the Menace, "hey mom! get dad quick! I got Santa Claus locked in the bathroom!"
With that, Joe must have spewed out an entire mouthful of soup, all over the dining room as he cracked up over that, and I did too....half the joke, half the spewing, until....
"Goddaamiiit!"
In high school, Joe's family moved back to San Jose and he went to the same high school I did, I was a senior and he was a freshman...we soon hung out in the same bunch and drove to ball games and whatnot, he was a buddy then, not so much a cousin...all the while...a comic timing, a cartoon soul...he has that. The laugh, that's the thing.
But anyway, lately I find a growing fondness for these things.
Lately Joe is doing fine, two fine sons, and they were terrors just like he was!

"Good Luck"

2007-01-15T22:37:00.000-08:00

I can reference obscure memories in my mind...I can remember esoteric things, I can remember what happened on April 4, 1968....I remember what we ate for dinner on June 12, 1975.... I remember September 3, 1982...Thank god for certain memories, I guess...The unpleasant memories tend to fade, which I suppose is a survival thing.
I remember a vague scene from a movie, like a WW2 movie, two guys shaking hands on a bridge, one American, one British.
"Well, I'm going this way"
"And I'm going that way....Good Luck" It seemed to me at the time, though it was just a movie, that these were two men who were walking off to their destinies in life...'good luck'

Geneva, Switzerland on that September 3rd, 1982...
I was traveling around, I hopped on the next available train, still in a state of wonderlust, but also there was that certain home-sickness, not to mention the lonliness....oh, sometimes I felt it bad, I missed my family and friends, and sometimes just wanted to go home.
On a train to Geneva, about 7 in the morning, I had made sure to catch that train...I was going to see the band Genesis...
I got on, and got a coffee and croissant, my breakfast, and sat in an empty seating area...one guy came in,
"Do you mind if I sit here?
"No, not at all..."
"Oh! you're American, hehe...sorry."
"nahh, it's okay"
I think by my appearance back then, with my long hair, my week-growth beard, I knew I looked swarthy...but all I had to do was just say something!
And from out of this dark looking vagabond came, "Wow! it sure is great to meet a guy who speaks English! My name is Dan, it's a pleasure to meet you!"
"ohh! well yes of course, it's a pleasure to meet you too!"
At about 12 noon the train came in to the Geneva station....We had chatted for awhile on the train, his name was Vaughn, from Newcastle, England. He was a student 'on holiday' before he went back to school in about a week. I told him I was there to see the Genesis concert that night, he had no particular plans for the day, but needed to catch a 5:00 train to Italy, so we decided to have lunch and do a little sightseeing. We had hit it off and became fast friends, so it was never even discussed that we would hang out together for the day, we just did.
He spoke fluent French, the local language in Geneva, so that was convenient. He asked all about California, and was genuinely curious about all kinds of 'American' things, "Is it really true that people get shot at all the time?"
"well, not really, it does happen in certain areas, but it's not like the Clint Eastwood movies. It's really pretty mundane."
We went to the old part of the city, where the cathedral was. Many cities in Europe have a cathedral, old city walls, Roman ruins, etc. which are fascinating.
"To tell you the truth, sometimes I get 'cathedral burnout' like they all seem the same after awhile."
"Haha! yeahhh, me too!"
So we walked by a sidewalk cafe and decided to have a beer or two or three. It was past 4, so it almost time to catch his train.
"Well, guess I better get going."
"Where's the waiter? we haven't paid yet..."
We gave each other a look.
"You mean, should we be rogues and leave without paying?"
"Hmmm, nahhh...we better pay."
So we did, and headed back to the station, which was across the river. The Stade de Charle where Genesis would be playing was in another direction on the same side of the river.
as we got to the foot of the bridge I immediately thought of that obscure scene in that movie. So I said, "Well, I go this way."
"And I go that way."
"Good Luck"....just like in the movie.
We shook hands, and off we went in our own directions. We looked back one more time and waved.
Though we exchanged addresses, I never heard from ol' Vaughn again.

I'm just Tired

2006-12-30T22:00:00.000-08:00

I'm just Tired....stay tuned...

I Believe in Father Christmas

2006-12-26T00:45:00.000-08:00

When I was about 3 years old, I got a bright blue pedal car from Santa Claus! though I had spied my dad putting it together late one Christmas Eve, I had somewhat believed that there was a Santa Claus, even while my parents played along, I had wondered, even at that age...then when I showed my car off the next day, my cousin Joanne sneered, "there's no such thing as Santa Claus!"
"hmmmph! well..."
But I liked the idea of Santa, coming to visit all the boys and girls who had been good that year, and for years I always made sure to be Good, so that Santa would bring the presents I wanted.
Christmas has always been a wonderful and magical time for me...the smell of the Christmas Tree is what really sets me off these days....
I remember only one time sitting on Santa's lap at Macy's in San Jose when I was 5 or 6, though I knew that wasn't the Real Santa, but I was polite and deferrential enough, I asked for a microscope set.
"Ohhhhh a micrope set?? well, okay...but you have to be good!"
"oh yes!"
"and brush your teeth and pick up your toys?"
"yes!"
"and mind your mommy and daddy?"
"yes!"
"okay then, if you do all these things, then YES! Santa will bring you a microscope set...Ho Ho Ho!"
He was a kind Santa, then he lifted me off his knee, "okay, who's next?"
Even if I was cynical at that age about the existence of a real Santa, I was okay...I liked the concept of Santa Claus...I loved the Spirit of the Idea...
Me and my mom would always go to church when I was little, and the spirit of the Nativity was always paramount during Christmas time, after all, this is the celebration of the birth of Jesus.
The Spirit of Christmas is very all-inclusive for me...
In Britain, traditionally there was Father Christmas...Saint Nicholas....Saint Nick!...who gave gifts and toys a long time ago....
I believe in Him...and I believe in His incarnations.
It is in this Spirit, that the giving of gifts with no expectation of something in return, not just at Christmas, but any time...
The very nature of what is Good in all of us comes through...It all comes together at Christmas, and one of these incarnations is Santa Claus...
and I Believe in Father Christmas.

Daniel

2006-12-18T20:32:00.000-08:00

Remember the old Elton John song called 'Daniel'...well I heard this a few days ago...though Daniel is my own name, it's also the name of my dad, who 'officially' died five years ago today. He had a massive heart attack on the 10th of December, 2001 and was only being kept alive by breathing machines. But on the 18th he was unplugged, and he died within minutes.
I had already considered him 'gone' days before then, but neverless I kissed him on his forehead, and thanked him for being a good father. And he was.
If there was one word to describe my dad, that would be DRIVEN...he had a hard time when his parents died when he was only 23, just out of the navy... he had to virtually raise his younger siblings, some of whom he had a falling out with later on.
He had only one kid...me...
He loved music, and he loved to sing. One of my eariest memories is him singing "I Wanna Be Around" by Tony Bennett while we would drive around, and he would try to get me to sing along.
After getting a good job at IBM, he moved me and my mom to a nice house in San Jose. This is where I grew up.
He was driven...He immedialtely embarked on household projects like laying brick, replacing some of the plumbing, pulling down trees, installing new appliances...he did it all himself, with no help from others, except sometimes from Uncle Joe and Uncle Bob, who were equally doing similar projects in their homes, and they enjoyed drinking beers in the process. And of course, he always had me, to hand him the right tools and such.
Dan was also a strict parent. I think it carries over from his own father, Louis Guerra...
He was a hitter...if I did something wrong, or said someting wrong....SMACK! "You do what I say! you hear??"
I recoiled, maybe even distanted myself emotionally from him, or from what he represented: Only admonishment, all the time...
I resented my dad for a long time when I was a teen...I considered him a bully and a tyrant.
And then...I left home for college, and, after having experienced another ultimatum, I did a few rebel things on my own.
Later I knew...and realized that my dad was only trying to raise me in the only way HE knew...the way he was brought up.
And that is, that you Love...in whatever uncertain or dysfunctional way, you only do these things.
As we got older, me and my dad became best friends...buddies! We would go fishing, go to ballgames...and my mom too, bless her heart...
I think that it's best when you can eventually become friends...buddies...with your parents, and I became buddies with mine...
But I miss my buddy Daniel...oh I miss him so much.

Playing more records

2006-12-08T23:08:00.000-08:00

I had missed playing my records, you know, the old vinyl kind... where you have to pick it up by the edges, dust it off, and make sure the needle hits the song just right....on the smoothe part between songs...and then you lift off the needle and try not to scratch the record too much and then let the needle down upon the song you want to hear...I used to listen to a lot of rock records and prog rock like Yes, Genesis, etc...
Tonight I have listed to a ton of songs that are Gold...I played old Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. records....a tune by The Monkees, called "Look Out Here Comes Tomorrow" written by Neil Diamond, you can just tell that's his tune...
I played "Wichita Lineman" by Glen Campbell, the melody of that song is just killer! oh my gawwd...I even have records that my aunt gave me that I wouldn't usually listen to, but now seem golden...Charlie Pride, Johnny Cash, Olivia Newton-John, Roger Miller...
It makes me wonder, all kinds of music have I missed!...or just hadn't gotten around to..
I think that I have appreciated a ton of music through the the years...but there is still more...a ton of notes...or songs that I haven't heard, but were always there.
And there will always be new songs to be heard....

The Girl Who Couldn't Read

2006-12-02T22:49:00.000-08:00

Today when I was at the checkout counter, I noticed a table set up by the front. It was a "Gingerbread House Workshop" that the store will have every Saturday in December, where kids can put together their own gingerbread houses with the aid of store workers, to show them how. I recognized one of the helpers there, it was a girl who was hired around the same time I was. We were at the same Safety Orientation, in which new-hires are required to attend a meeting to go over all the safety rules. At that orientation, there were about 25 people seated around a table. We were all handed a booklet, and the woman who ran the thing had us all read a safety rule out loud, then the next person, and so on...
Naturally, instead of listening to what was being read, I counted the people along the table and counted the numbered paragraphs, to match the one I would have to read, and silently 'rehearsed'....
When it was my turn, I was actually disappointed that my bit was short, "Never place your hands on a hot surface."
Then it was this girl's turn...it was quite obvious, though being a high school graduate, she basically could not read.
"uhh..all..all ways..use...caw...cahh...catch....ummm...sorry...caww...uhh...when...de..dil..."
The poor thing, her face was turning red, and I think everyone in the room was embarrassed for her. Fortunately the presenter took over reading it for her.
Maybe she was just nervous, but as I watched, she seemed like she just didn't know the words, she couldn't read.
So today, there she was...from the bakery department helping the kids build their gingerbread houses.
And she was beaming, clearly in her element with the kids. And the kids loved her! she was doing a great job showing them how to build those houses...
As I watched, I thought of that safety meeting and how she must have felt so embarrassed.
It made me think of all the times when we all feel like we've been so far down...small...
but all it takes is a certain day or a certain place, even if it's just an afternoon, when you feel whole and alive again.
Seeing her today made me feel this way.

Hair

2006-11-28T00:04:00.000-08:00

Everyone is born with hair on their head. For some, it's a no-brainer to just have a naturally 'good head of hair'...for others, like me...it's a lifelong struggle.
You must have heard of 'Good Hair Days' when your hair is in excellent shape, and you're feeling good because of it, and the opposite of course is the Bad Hair Days....when you feel self-conscious and out of sorts, because your hair just looks bad or awkward. I remember the 'Dorothy Hamill' cuts, the 'Farrah' cuts..and those were good haircuts, for what they were worth at the time, and it made them look cute.... The guys just had long hair...or bad hair, but then they could always go to Supercuts, and get a disco haircut...
I suppose...and I don't want to sound too sexist here...that it affects women more than men, in that visceral way...but I am here to tell you that it has truly affected me too, I'm not immune.
On my mom's side, all of the men went bald, or at least lost their hair by the time they were in their 50's.
On my Dad's side, they all kept a full head of hair...
When I was a kid, my dad insisted on smearing Vitalis all through my head and he combed it himself...Back...he had the same haircut his whole life.
When I was a teenager every guy had 'long hair' so I did too, and it looked like crap (just look at any high school yearbook in the 70's and you'll see what I mean).
When I went to college my hair had gotten longer and I would blow-dry it...to straighten it...then one day after swimming I noticed it would dry up in ringlets, and at the time I thought it was cool. My hair became my Lion's Mane.
When I was in my 30's I noticed a change...Oh No!
My hair was getting thinner in the front, at first it was no big deal, but then I began to freak out as I was definitely going bald. I would run my hand through the top of my head, and the hairs would come out with fragility and ease...then I would do the same to the back of my head, and those hairs were still sturdy.
I used to panic...I would try to comb forward the hair I had left. And as less and less hairs came forward, the more self-conscious I would become. Then in about 1998 I went to an old-fashioned barber and got old-fashioned haircut...that set me right...the haircuts of old-fashioned barbers can still make me look clean cut.
Since then I have lamented my hair loss...'Male Pattern Baldness' they call it....though, I have accepted it. I will never do anything as cheesy as get a 'hair-weave' or get a rug or anything like that...and I'm definitely not ready for the Shaved Head thing...oh no. I miss my mane...
Though I do need to get good haircuts, to preserve what I got left...
though I do miss my mane...

Make sure to practice

2006-11-24T20:36:00.000-08:00

In an earlier blog, I lamented about what it would be like to play a musical instrument wonderfully and easily, as though the notes flowed through as a natural thing, well that's just wishful thinking, though I still do believe it just comes naturally for some people.
Anyway, in any discipline it takes work, and practice. I remember a quote by Rick Wakeman, "If you think this looks easy, it's not...if anyone wants to play an instrument, you must practice, practice, practice. I can't emphasize that enough..."
And it's true, to be good at something is one thing, but to be great at it...or at least exceptional, we must practice at it...
I am out of practice at so many things, I can't count them. Not that I was great at anything, I'm good at some, but...
I am out of practice playing the trumpet.
I am out of practice using 3D Studio Max.
I am out of practice playing golf.
I am out of practice drawing the human figure.
I am out of practice keeping in touch with distant friends.
I am out of practice letting current friends know how much I appreciete them.
I am out of practice getting on a plane and traveling.
I am out of practice ice skating.
I am out of practice feeling spiritual, *in tune with nature* and that sort of idealism.
To name a few....
But I'm very much IN practice noticing the things in which I'm out of practice, which I suppose is a good thing.
And though I'm dull at all these things, it's not to say that can't get back IN practice...just like riding a bike.

Christmas songs

2006-11-22T21:32:00.000-08:00

As I plug through each night at Safeway, there is the nonstop music soundtrack playing over the PA, 24-7....Sometimes I wonder how often they have to replace the speakers or sound system, but on it goes....
I've asked who comes up with the playlist, because I hear the same songs in other safeway stores, the obvious answer: It comes from "corporate"...but Somebody, like an actual human being, must choose the songs, and I must commend them.
Last Monday they started playing Christmas songs, traditional carols, some old, but also new versions by artists that I had no idea even did Christmas songs. These songs cheer me up.
I've always enjoyed the Holiday season, and part of it is the music. From the traditional evocative carols like "O Holy Night" to the Gene Autry version of "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" (which he wrote!)...it's a festive time of year.
Just about every singer of any level of fame has done a 'Christmas Album' like Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Barbra Streisand, Amy Grant, and a host of others. I also like the song that goes, "A ship came in from beyond the sea, on Christmas Day, on Christmas Day..." (I don't know the title)
My personal favorite is a most unusual duet by Bing Crosby and David Bowie singing "The Little Drummer Boy"...it's very well done...
And to my surprise, all of these are on the safeway playlist.
Have a great Holiday Season everybody!

Ugly...

2006-11-19T23:38:00.000-08:00

I spent some time going through long lost photographs and arranged them in albums...I noticed photos of myself when I was younger...okay, hmmm I guess I was a nice looking guy, sure...okay.
Today I looked in the mirror and all I could see was Ugly...
Oh man, I can understand the test of time, the years, and the toll it takes on all of us...
Today I looked like shit....
Maybe it's the insane hours lately, whatever...
When I look in the mirror tomorrow, hopefully I won't see an Ugly face.

RAIN

2006-11-12T23:14:00.000-08:00

It's raining right now, I can hear it on the roof, I can hear it on the tin carport outside...I can hear on the side of the house as the overflow spashes down on the ground.
It's rain.... it's water...it's sheltering.
At the risk of sounding weird, I have always known that rainy days equates with feeling sad, feeling depressed, especially that it's now known that the lack of sunlight during the winter months can indeed lead to a diagnosed physical depression.
I am completely aware of that finding and that study.
Yet however....all my life....I mean since I was a kid!....I have loved the rain.
When it rains I close my eyes and feel the water come down, like a cleansing thing....
It's the sound, and the idea that water is falling all around...I'm hypnotized by it...
But of course, not too much rain! not to cause flooding! Like in Washington State a few days ago!
oh hell no!...that's like the Earth spanking you, like any natural disaster.
no it's the gentle rain...that's when the Earth kisses you.

"Aunt Ada"

2006-11-10T21:55:00.000-08:00

In the summer of 1985, I was still basking in the cultural afterglow of my trip through Europe from 3 years before. It will always be one of the most memorable experiences of my life. It was a six month trek. To be honest, my regret is that I didn't 'connect' enough with people. As is my nature, I stayed on the periphery, an observer, not one who participated or engaged. I got invited to a music festival in Ireland but I declined, because it was out of my comfort zone of catching my scheduled train, and getting back to my hotel room. My hotel rooms over the years have been my home, my lair, my sanctuary, even if it was sometimes just a 'room'....
Oh, there were times when I linked up with fellow travellers for a few days, and I did meet some wonderful and interesting people, from all countries.
So in '85, my passport was still valid, and I had some money saved, so I thought it would be fun to go back, or at least go back to London....next to San Francisco or New York, one of my favorite cities in the world....only this time, it wouldn't a long extended trip through Europe, this would be only a short trip, maybe 2 or 3 weeks...and if there was time, Paris too.
I had worked with a girl named Patty at North Star Computers in San Leandro, CA back in '83 and '84, and we became good friends...
She said, "ohh! you should go and visit my aunt Ada! she lives in Dunfermline, Scotland, near Edinburgh!"
So off I had went....
This time, I considered myself a seasoned traveler...at least, when I landed in London I wouldn't be some greenhorn, I would know what to do, and which trains to catch. I went to the same hotel even, on Old Brampton Road, and the same guy was there. He was from India, there's a huge population of Indians there in London...
"I stayed here three years ago!"
"Did you? Splendid!" he didn't remember me at all.
So, I decided to go up to Scotland, about a 4-5 hour train ride to Edinburgh. I got there about 5 PM and then I would go visit 'Aunt Ada' the next day. Dunfermline is about 90 minutes away, across the huge Firth of Forth, a grand sea inlet.
The next day I arrived about noon in Dunfermline at the small train station...One thing I did alot there was walk, which I don't mind, I love walking....I had her address, but no phone number, so I figured I'd walk to her house, and, if she wasn't home at least I'd leave a note. In my shyness I secretly hoped she wasn't home.
Her house was one of those typical brick rowhouses. I walked up and knocked...An old lady answered...
"Hello! my name is Dan, I'm a friend of Patty's visiting from America..."
"Oh yes! I knew you were comin'!...come in! come in!"
So I went in and she just chatted away...."would you like some tea?"
"would you like a tart?"
I noticed a calender on her wall with the Golden Gate Bridge, and immediately the connection with half a world away became very local as she also showed me pictures of Patty's sister's wedding. She was a very sweet and talkative old lady, at 72...full of energy and she seemed delighted to have me as a visitor.
I had originally planned to visit for just an hour or so.
"I do need to go to town for a wee bit, will you walk with me?"
"Oh yes, of course!"
So off we went, it became a tour of the entire town. She did her shopping, we visited the ruins of the old catherdal, the Andrew Carnegie Museum, all the while she chatted and I listened. And I was sure to ask questions...especially historical questions, like about the the Clans of Scotland, Bonnie Prince Charlie, Hadrian's Wall, etc...
"ohhh, well don't know too much aboot that...there are stones here and there..."
She talked a lot about her family, her late husband, though sometimes her thick accent was a little hard to understand.
"He's roon throon the geote, like wooond!"
"umm, he ran...I'm sorry, like....?"
"like woooond!"
"like wind? oh! he was a runner!"
"oh yehhh!"
That's when I realized I was being ignorant in my asking about such esoteric things.....It would be like someone asking if they knew about Cowbows and Indians here in the States...to other than a historian, it means nothing other than just legends and stories. And yet, this Island is filled with a ton of history.
And then we visited her neighbor Bob...as she chatted away, Bob gave that hand motion to me, indicating 'yak yak yak' which I found amusing...
It was getting near 5 PM, and I mentioned that I'd need to be catching my train back to Edinburgh at 6:30....
"oh! well let's go eat then!"
We went to a little fish and chip shop in town, and I must say, it was delicious...
But as it was getting close to 6:30, she had Bob drop us off at her daughter's house. It was then that I realized that they had been out of touch for awhile, because the two grandaughters ran and embraced her, like they hadn't seen her in ages.
At first they seemed uncomfortable, especially the husband, like they didn't get along, he said nothing to Ada....but I think I was the 'Excuse' for her to come over....to bring an American, who they don't see much of, in small towns up there...and, always wanting to be a good ambassador, I chatted with them in a most friendy way. I could see they were preparing dinner, and the mom graciously offered to have us, much to the dad's discomfort...but I totally sensed it, as anyone would....I said, "No, thank you but I really need to catch that train!"
So Ada, her daughter, grandaughter and me all got in the car to give me a ride to the station, not too far away so their dinner wasn't too ruined...the dad seemed relieved anyway...
It was at this time that I felt an important need to communicate...just Talk!...(just Talk Dan, just start talking...say anything! everyone else does, just talk!) I know I'm a quiet person, but I thought it would be good for them to at least hear a foriegn accent at length. As foreign as their Scottish accents sounded to me...I knew I sounded just as foreign to them. And sure enough, they asked questions about the States and all that.
It had to take until that ride....but to be fair, this was the only time I had a stage.
As for Aunt Ada, we exchanged postcards for a couple of years, but then it tapered off...
I think she was lonely then, and my visit was something different. I'd like to think she spent more time with her family after that...I haven't spoken to Patty in years either...I should look her up and ask about aunt Ada, though she'd be 93 now...I wouldn't put it past her to still be alive and kickin'. She was that way.

"And still, we live..."

2006-11-08T23:08:00.000-08:00

Okay, not to bring this up again...but on July 3, 2001...when Troy announced that I had been laid off, After the proper goodbyes, after they closed their door...I vaguely heard, "And Still...We Live"
I knew precisely what he meant by that, and what that was from....the movie, "Seven Samurai"...
an excellent film...'And Still, We Live'.... was a line when everyone had died and only a few had lived from an epic battle...
He meant that whatever was left of the company, that they might survive...In spite of those who would be cast adrift... I was one...
'And Still, We Live'.....
In 1988, I found myself hanging on a window ledge, I could not believe this situation...I found myself hanging by my fingers on the ledge, and my feet way over on the fire escape.
My grip was not good....down I went.
I crashed down and the first thing I did was put my glasses on, as if nothing happened, but my left side was basically broken...
"And still, I live."
FAST FORWARD!
okay these are crazy stories, there are tons, but I won't delay them here....
I woke up today to an empty driveway where my car used to be, and I lament...I picked up my kitty and looked out at the truck...
"And Still, We Live..."
.

Safeway III 'The Night Crew"

2006-11-07T20:09:00.000-08:00

Retraction! After venting last night, I had a really good time at work and realized that it's all about my own attitude. Any job, like any aspect in life, is what you make it.

My Pleasure

2006-11-06T20:53:00.000-08:00

I grew up with the certain sense that it's always important to be polite...'please and thank you' were definite staples in my social upbringing. And to this day they are, and will always be....
Though today, a very small incident made me realize something...a small social kindness can make your heart soar....
As you may have read recently, I've been working at Safeway, where they really drum it in, that the customers are king, where customer service is number one...and you MUST treat customers with kindness, service, and respect!
Well that part was never too hard, helping people find things, with a quickness and a social competence...okay, fine, I can do that...
until I experienced such a thing outside of work...
As I left an art store today, a woman in a motorized wheelchair whizzed by, with a strawberry Icee or Slurpee and she dropped it...
"Oh Damn!"
Now...there was a time when I would have just side-stepped or walked by, fearing those in wheelchairs who shun help, or even resent it...that would have been my excuse...but NO...
AUTOMATICALLY!
"Oh, can I grab that for you?
"oh! thank you...what a mess!"
"my pleasure, noooo, it's not a mess!"
"oh yes it is! ohhh look at this!"
"Don't worry Maam! the boys here will clean this up!"
It was automatic...in a stride...customer service...
and I felt good about it, a natural kind...

Our cars

2006-11-06T01:27:00.000-08:00

> Okay was trying to link thru flickr, that damn thing...but
> whatever...let's get to it...
> Here's the cars I have owned...
> And also the point I was intending to make...that all of the
> automobiles that any of us have owned, or even ridden in, from the
> excellent family cars, to the beater cars, they remain as a sort of a
> 'member of the family' or at least a 'buddy' car.....
> My point here is this...they are simply machines, but we spend hours
> and hours in our cars, and they're OUR cars, yours and mine.
> They're our friends, our companions, our children, and sometimes even
> lovers...
> And we do love them, we look after them...and sometimes when they let
> us down, we hate them and feel betrayed by them...and still they are
> there...and we need them.
>
> 1) 1974 Ford Pinto -in 1976 - This was my first car, and I had gotten my first
> job at Great America in Santa Clara, CA and was about to even graduate
> high school...my dad had said, "okay, if you can get a job, and find a
> car, I'll match it..."
> So me and my dad found a nice little Ford Pinto at a used car lot, in
> very good condition, and the fact that I paid some at the time,
> maintained the fact that this was My Car.
> I changed the oil in My Car for the first time...I bought new tires
> for My Car and everything that goes with that.
>
> 2) 1976 Triumph -pm What a 'Diva' that car was...It drove like a
> son-of-a-gun through the country roads, it handled like a
> beauty...but, like a Diva, things would break down all the time, to
> the point where it became a burden to repair the brakes right after I
> was done with repairing the radiator, and the the electrical system
> would give out....sheeesh.
>
> 3) 1984 Toyota Truck - This was my first purchase of a New vehicle and
> it was a big huge puchase...it had only 8 miles total on it...and it was mine! Though I did have the post-purchase-panic about the whole thing. Nevertheless, the truck was mine, and I drove the hell out of that thing all through the 80's...until my dad needed a truck, so off it went to him....and he took good care of it...
I always learned from him, and also my grandpa, to always take care of your cars, and to change the oil, that's the main thing....

4) 1986 Alfa Romeo - which I bought used in 1990... Ohhhh mman, here I bought this really cool car, leather seats....I was in my element, I was young, guys I worked with said "ooo! you could get chicks with that car!"
I was more like, "ummm, yeah sure.." it was just more having the car.
The guy I bought it from was a European guy..."She's a lady, she needs to be maintained!"
And I did...a human being and also an automobile at the time. It was then I learned the term, 'high maintenance'...
But that Alfa was a dream for a time...I remember meeting my parents up at Lake Tahoe, my dad and I took a drive up to the north shore....with the top down...
"Man, this thing hugs the curves!" my dad would say, as we drove back at 80...when we should have been going 50....I think he was just nervous about those high curves, but the car took them, it had new Pirelli tires...
But it was another Diva...oh those divas...it got to a point where I couldn't smog it, therefore I couldn't register it, I couldn't idle it long enough to even smog it...so I sold it...it wasn't about the oil anymore...it was long after I was out of that 'cool' element anyway....
She abandoned me on a bridge one night, alone, I hated her for that.
5) 1980 Honda Accord - The ultimate 'beater' car...At the time, I had only the Alfa and was commuting from Oakland to Novato, CA...so, to save miles, I bought a used Honda Accord from one of the ads you see in the paper, with 109,000 miles on it, and it was in good enough shape, so I used that to commute...during this time I moved up to Marin...and to a new job...and soon after I was stuck with two 'Divas....the Alfa and the Honda...
6) 1997 Honda Civic - My only second 'new' car, with only 6 miles on it, it ran like a charm in all the time I had it, up until lately (see next post)...
7) 1984 Toyota Truck - yes, the same one...back, like an old and trusted friend, tired and somewhat sad, seeing as where he's been...regularly serviced when my dad had it...
But yes, even though it's just really a machine, it's a friend...a good one.

My Music

2006-10-24T02:24:00.000-07:00

Okay I just pasted a link here as a test...but before you even bother to watch it, I made sure to post the best thing I could find....well maybe not literally defined as the 'best', because musical taste varies of course...so, maybe the best musical performance I have seen on video that captures the idea of great music...
A few days ago I had asked a dear friend, if you could really be a 'star', would you rather be a singer with a wonderful voice, or a musician who could play an instrument incredibly?...
Me, I think I would always choose to be a musician who could play an instrument, I'm a relatively shy type, and as much as I admire incredible singers and their charisma on stage...I admire incredible playing....
I played the trumpet in school and learned to read music and all of that...but I could only read the notes, whatever ear for music ended at my wrists. I could play the notes, but I couldn't play the actual music as it should have been played. Like a nerdy kid who couldn't dance...but really wanted to.
I love music, and I can hear it, but like a monkey in a cage who reaches out for a greater thing, the ability to play a musical instrument is a technical and artistic skill that I can only reach for that way...I've tried. I bought an inexpensive acoustic guitar in the 80's with the hope of learning how to play it, but it was the same thing...I could only play notes in a rudimentary way. A guy I worked with at the time could play really well, and one day he was over, and picked it up and made the thing sing.
It's mathematical, he said, to play music...hmmm, well he was a programmer so that made sense. He also added that he couldn't draw a stick figure, and wondered how I was able to draw things. I told him I didn't really know, it just seemed natural.
So it's probably the same thing. And the appreciation of music or art is not limited to one's ability, that's for sure...I wasn't great at math, but I do love music. I understand every note, I HEAR every note and every word of every song I've ever liked...
One interesting similarity is that I like detail, technical detail, the more intricate pieces the better, both in art and music. But definitely not limited to that, there is nothing like a good song, in melody or lyrics...And I have enjoyed a myriad of of musical genres, all except hip-hop I guess, and for a while there I didn't like Country too much, until I started listening to some of the songs, now I appreciate that music very much...I also like classical music, 'Claire de Lune' by DeBussy is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard...but most of all I'm a 'classic rock' guy...I was into the rock thing in the 70's, sure...but I liked the bands who could *really* play.
Bands like Yes, Genesis, Rush, ELP, Jethro Tull, whose members were usually trained in classical music...In other words, bands who pushed the limits beyond typical 4x4 Rock n' Roll, and had the the ability to play their instruments creatively, and exceptionally well.
And I wish I could play...
Hopefully this will link, but this is Rick Wakeman, the keyboard player in the band Yes...incredible....this is the kind of playing that I'm drawn to...
If you do watch, you may find it bombastic or long-winded or whatever, many do...but I enjoy hearing every note of this one...and, like a primate, I sit amazed...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M-hJlbbtSlQ

Safeway II (Away From the Sun)

2006-10-22T22:31:00.000-07:00

In my entire two or three months of grocery store experience, ha...The most striking and adventuresome has been working on the Night Crew, that is, working from 10 PM to 7 AM...the graveyard shift...and I have done it with the appropriate enthusiasm that goes with any new job when you first start. But then other factors start to kick in, even after two weeks of graveyard...like personal life, and quite frankly, the upside-down nature of personal happiness.
At first I didn't mind too much and found it quite fascinating how a grocery store actually operates; Like the items we see on the shelves every day...fresh...and just the everyday fact that we have gone to these places all our lives, and cruise up and down these aisles of plenty, with a minimum of thought as to how those things get there...
And there are those who can't do that...and I'll be the first to admit that, while I can whine on a computer about my own issues, when many in the world can't even fathom going into a grocery store, they go hungry....in my constant reverie I try never to forget that...
Well, as for the food, they come by semi-trucks at 3 to 4 in the morning from distribution centers, up here it's from Davis, California...It takes about 15 minutes for the truck to actually manuver in to the loading bay....and they're filled with wooden palletes of boxes, and in those boxes are the cereals and pastas and sauces and paper towels and everything else we see on those grocery shelves...
And then I stock them...It's an art ;o)
If ever you see a neatly stocked shelf, maybe that was me...
But this is not what I did, nor what I would choose, I'm only doing this because I couldn't find a job as an artist, because that's what I did and who I am...or still trying to (that's another blog)...
It almost seems like another life back then in the 90's when I WAS an artist...and to be honest, it was a better life...I was Golden at one time.
But I have gone through enough self-admonition and experienced the indignities of those consequences...You may have read before about the 'raft' scenario...or you may have read about the 'praying' one...where, in any event, if there was just one part of my own soul where the spirit of survival, or even the common sense of goodness risides, it may have listened...
And now I found myself at 3:30 in the morning, stocking pasta in an aisle with only contemplation...I can see certain labels with pictures, and it reminds me of old vacations my parents took, bless them...
I see certain boxes of cereal that I'm amazed are still around, like Kix...
I see Nestle's Quik Chocolate Mix, and it reminds me of when, as a kid, I would eat it by the spoon without milk, and my teeth would turn brown...
But mostly it's the Music coming over the PA that keeps me sane...but sometimes melancholy...there's one song..."Away From the Sun" by 3 Doors Down that really sets me off...but it makes me remember not to be far 'from the arms of the ones I need'...and also as a reminder...
"you got a talent, Joey...don't waste it"

Illustration Friday: Ghost

2006-10-20T15:56:00.000-07:00

ghost
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

They say the ghost of Joan of Arc haunts Rouen Cathedral. I added her image to this old drawing. See if you can spot her. (No, this isn't one of those 'jump out at you' images ;o)

March, 1964, Santa Cruz, California

2006-10-20T01:50:00.000-07:00

Little Danny had still been fascinated by what he saw on the black and white Emerson tv...like when the Beatles first appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show...Meanwhile big Dan had plans...after investing in a real estate venture, he hooked up with a guy who had a bigger deal, "why not invest in a Bar! a Nightclub! it'll be the biggest hotspot in San Jose!"
Needless to say, Sally was against the whole idea, but Dan pressed ahead, with an investment of money and time. And soon...."Zamora's Quiet Village" opened in downtown San Jose. It was to be a restaurant/bar with live music and it thrived...but only for awhile. Downtown San Jose at that time had become a run down place in the 60's. And this venture may have worked 10 years before, but then...Not for long...But it was fun for a while, little Danny would come in during the day and marvel at the musical instruments up on the small stage. "Be very careful with those, son" Bob would say...he was a talented piano player and singer, Danny remembered.
Dan and Sally even went on a two-week cruise to Hawaii with Bob and his wife in the summer of '63...
When it became clear to Dan that Bob Zamora was skimming some of the money, and that he was avoiding taxes and it all became quite shady, Dan opted out...
Bob Zamora was more than helpful, "Well, I have a cabin property up in the Santa Cruz mountains, I'll sell it to you cheap..."
So that's how Dan became the owner of 'The Cabin', right above Felton, California....on a country road in the hills above Santa Cruz.
Dan took to that place as though it was his second child...He went up there every weekend to fix the roof, the plumbing, the joists in the back porch, the decks, replace all the light fixtures....it seemed that this was his new 'project' and of course his wife Sally and little Danny were pressed into helping...and of course they went along...
It wasn't a bad time...They had themselves a Cabin in the woods! And Dan's brother Joe, and his brothers-in-law Joe and Bob (not THAT Bob...Sally's brother Bob) often came up and helped out, they seemed to enjoy the outing, helping with the deck or whatever and then enjoying beers afterwards.
Danny remembered when it was 'quitting time' Joe would say, "who ready for a beer?" and then Dan would say, "Danny, go gather up the tools and put them away, and when you're done with that, sweep the deck over there...then you're done."
And Joe would say to his son, "And you go help him, mister! On the double!"
Once in a while, Bob's son Bobby would come up and help...he was older, a teenager then, and Dan would pay him 10 or 20 bucks after the day. Danny once had the nerve to ask, "why do you pay Bobby and not me?"
"Because Bobby doesn't have to be here, YOU DO!" so that was that...
Though it was a functional house with proper utilities and appliances, it was well enough nestled in the Santa Cruz Mountains to qualify as a 'cabin'...and then oh my...the barbeques and parties Dan and Sally held there.
Many weekends were spent at the cabin, and sometimes, much to Danny's and his cousin's excitement, they would go into Santa Cruz and go on the rides at the Boardwalk.
That was in the 60's when other cabins on that road were owned by retirees. Nearly every cabin on that small steep road had a sign with the owner's names; the Evans' place...the Lichti's...the Brook's....but then they eventually started selling their properties....
One weekend in 1967, a new road sign appeared...the Hughletts...but it was a psychadelic sign...the Hippies started moving in!...

The Wizard of Oz

2006-10-20T01:12:00.000-07:00

p_emerald_01
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Everyone must know this timeless classic. It used to play around March on tv when I was a kid....I have a vague memory of Danny Kaye hosting the presentation while my older cousin Joanne made sure everybody kept quiet while we watched the movie....It was a yearly event....
Recently my dear friend had her computer repaired, it basically got a new Brain, and we thought of the Scarecrow, which made me think of the Wizard of Oz...
Since then, in the age of Videotapes, DVD's, on-demand pay-per-view, what have you...the Wizard of Oz can be seen at anyone's convenience at any time, which takes away a bit of that yearly magic...
But be that as it may...there is a certain magic that I noticed in the movie itself, in the story itself...
Dorothy, The Scarecrow, The Tin Man, The Lion, and even the Wizard Himself were searching....searching for something....just to be complete, to be whole, to feel as though their lives were somehow complete...
Dorothy - A lonely girl, stuck on a farm in Kansas who runs away, when, her dog Toto finally comes back, her only link to love and affection (her aunt and uncle are emotionally distant)...her only choice is for her and Toto to get out of there...
The Scarecrow - All through, he wants a brain, but it is He who comes up with all the bright ideas, like when he knows how to get apples, or comes up with the plan to storm the witch's castle, or sees how to cut the rope, thereby subduing the castle guards...
The Tin Man - He needed a heart....Though he was the most empathetic and kindest characters all along, always crying at the most inconvenient time, but never crying for himself, only for the welfare of others...
The Cowardly Lion - A Bully at first, with much bravado, until Dorothy slapped him on the nose, and then he cries and admits his cowardice...he only wanted Courage...
But later on, after Dorothy was captured.."Okay..okay...I'll do it for Dorothy! I don't care if I get killed!"....
Then all three of them take out the guards....
And then they finally meet the Wizard, and all their initial fears come back again...until the Man Behind the Curtain is revealed.
It is then, that this Wizard is only a carnival barker who got lost himself, but has the wisdom to recognize that our heroes had these things all along...
The Scarecrow was always smart.
The Tin Man always had a heart.
The Lion was always brave.
Dorothy always had a home.
That black and white bit at the end always gets to me...
"There's no place like home"

Soundtrack of our Lives

2006-10-14T21:52:00.000-07:00

tapes
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

The other day I was digging around the garage and found a box of old cassette tapes. It was like finding an old photo album filled with memories, only these are audio memories. Some of the tapes are over 25 years old, but I remember playing them over and over back then.
So, for the past few days I've been playing these old tapes, some of course are in poor condition, but the sound does come through, and when it does, it takes me back to whater time that was. Many people have similar experiences when they hear their old songs, like their own personal albums. Right now I was playing an old Montrose tape, and it reminded me of the old days in Chico, when I was in school. That was a 'party' tape...but inversely, most days back then were not invovlved with partying, but with many hours in class, or in the library with my nose in a book, and on the walk home, with my Walkman, I would play Jethro Tull's 'Songs From the Wood'...that tape was in there too...Obscure tapes like Patrick Moraz, or famous tapes like Hotel California, they're in there...and each one brings back not only the era, but specific moments in time, like the Genesis tape 'Wind and Wuthering' that makes me think of driving through Bidwell park and passing a certain old tree...or the Doobie Brothers 'Minute by Minute' that makes me think of A's games in the 70's and 80's before the game, when the players are warming up...or The Clash "London Calling" makes me think of playing backgammon on the floor of our house in Chico...
I found a tape by the 80's band The Babys. 'Head First' and that brought me back to my first job at North Star Computers, how funny it was to think of the things that concerned me then...I used to worry about trivial things, like what shirt to wear the next day, that the color might match the boss' shirt, and would he think I was copying him...or would I get home in time to catch my favorite MTV video...
Other tapes I found from the 90's...how I got into Frank, Sammy, and Dino, and Big Band...what a good time that was, though I didn't realize it then...I sure do now....
One tape from Bruce Hornsby I remember playing in the car and my dad asked, "is that Chicago?" because that one song, 'Look Out any Window' does sound like them...He loved Chicago, and I had always planned to get tickets whenever they played in Tahoe or Vegas where they ended up, and then he would finally get to see them...but we never made it.
When hearing that song again, I imagine us there in a theater in a nice booth watching the show, though it never happened in real life...in my imagination we were there...we'll always be there...

Illustration Friday: Smitten

2006-10-13T18:42:00.000-07:00

ROBOTWIN
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Okay let's try flickr again...
These robotic hands are actually real prototypes, Though they haven't gotten together yet, they would probably be smitten with each other.

Grand Parade pahhh!

2006-10-11T23:45:00.000-07:00

pax39
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

I just lost two hours worth of posting on here, God Damn it!!!....okay let me summarize....there's a ton of cereals, etc...that need to be stocked, there's a ton of food that everyone expects, appreciates, and a ton of trucks that come in at 3 AM....I work my butt off from 2 to 4...I stock the shelves from 4 to 7....in those times I miss my old life, I appreciate my friends, my family ...there's songs playing on the PR that make me think of the most obscure things...that's it...excuse my frustration but nobody reads this crap anyway.

The Grand Parade

2006-10-10T21:33:00.000-07:00

tic711
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

My experience so far at Safeway has been a mix of genuine drudgery and also one of utter astonishment. The drudgery part, of course, has been the actual work involved there. So far I've worked in the produce section, checker, courtesy clerk which really means bagboy/grocery cart getter....In one sense this work can be decribed as demeaning, 'beneath' what I normally did...and that's true enough, but so far I see it as cathartic, almost a 'tough love' thing on myself, that I can still get up and go to work and do a job like every other normal person, since I spent the last five years in a state of self imposed limbo....
Though I think this catharsis can only last so long, since I'm now on the night shift, from 10 PM to 7 AM...it's a bit of an adventure in itself, and in those wee hours of the night I stock things like cereal, and items I haven't seen since I was a kid. "oh wow, they still have these?"
But most of all, left alone in the aisle to think, my mind goes on overdrive, mostly recycling old memories, not unlike a computer with endless files that you haven't seen in decades. Kellog Corn Pops triggered only the first of these memories, how I loved them but only ate them a few times....I will list others soon. My contemplation of God and the universe was another one, though I thought I'd make its own blog, the previous one....stay tuned for my endless mind...

And God said....

2006-10-09T21:21:00.000-07:00

In a previous post, I mentioned a prayer I had offered up, and God answered, "okay you want a job? okay be prepared to work your ass off..."
And so I have, but it got me to thinking about prayer itself...was that God Himself answering a prayer? or was it just myself...the part of one's soul that seeks to carry on in spite of one's sense of self-doubt and all that represents...and what part is that who answers? The part of the soul where God resides? Is God an old man with a beard sitting on a throne somewhere up in Heaven, or is it the concept of God as a certain spirit that resides in us all, so that, in our darkest hours we pray, no matter how we perceive Him, we pray for the best?...whether it's for good fortune, for the benefit of others, for selfish reasons or altruism...or as Abraham Lincoln said, the "Angels of our better selves"?

I don't know if praying works or not, but somehow I think it does...
Anyway, this is my favorite story about God...it goes like this;

There once was a man who lived by a river. It was a wonderful house with a great view, and the man was prosperous in life. But the river had its dangers, it flooded over the years, but the man didn't concern himself with that, he had a good life. And he thanked God regularly for all the good things he had.
One year it rained hard, and the river began to rise. It became clear that the river was going to flood. His neighbors began to leave for higher ground, and they would come by his house,
"You should leave soon! The river is going to flood!"
"No!" he said, "I have have trust in God, and He will save me..."
Soon, the river got higher, one last neighbor with a team of horses came by,
"You really need to leave, I got these horses and we can carry your valuables to higher ground! Come with us now!"
And again, the man refused, "No, I have prayed and God will save me..."
The river got higher still, then the water engulfed the man's house and he had to climb onto the roof, but still, he had faith that God would save him.
Finally a man in a rowboat came swiftly by, "Please! jump in the boat! it's your last chance before the river floods everything!"
But the man still said no.
And so, the river overwhelmed the man's house, and he drowned.
When he got to heaven, he was angry with God.
"Why didn't you listen to my prayers? I had always been a good man, why didn't you answer me?"
And God said,
"I sent you the neighbors, I sent you the horses, I sent you the boat...why didn't you believe in ME?"

Illustration Friday: Trouble

2006-10-06T18:02:00.000-07:00

HAM1
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

It's been awhile since I've posted on I.F....but I remembered this sketch of some 'Hovertanks' I did when I worked at Ultimation, a game company. They had to take care of some trouble on their Mars base.

Working at Safeway

2006-09-27T23:59:00.000-07:00

employment_main
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

In earier posts, I referred to my employment situation as being on a raft...or on boats when I was actually employed....And on those boats, there was the terrible possibility that your job could end at any time....and that did happen, and quite frankly my life hasn't been the same since....(big sigh)..
I can not begin to describe these past 5 years....maybe in another post I may have described what it's like to experience such a thing. The loss of one's identity, or even self-esteem....
What it comes down to is that it's nobody's fault but mine....that's the key...it has a diminishing effect that permeates many areas of everyday life, to the point where you find yourself praying....
"Lord, I just need to get a job again, Forgive my indulgence..Forgive my laziness....Forgive my selfishness....I just want to work again...I want to live again."
And God Said...okay, you wanna Work?? Get ready to Work your butt off!!
But theological theories aside, the next thing I knew I was sitting in a back room at the local Safeway, taking an online 'test' in which I had to memorize numerical keycodes for various fruits and vegetables, and take a virtual checkout test. It was relatively easy, until they gave me an apron and said, "ok, go to register 4 and start checking those customers." That's when a quiet panic set in, but there I was, and I did it, almost robot-like.
Later on I started working in produce, lifting boxes of produce and bringing them out and arranging them for display, constantly moving. So, after about a month, I must say I haven't been in this good physical shape in years. It's not what I used to do, it's not an art, but it's work...what took me so long?

November, 1963

2006-08-25T01:27:00.000-07:00

jfk
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

When little Danny was about 3 or 4, he became more and more aware of the people and things around him. He was especially facsinated by what he saw on that old Emerson television set his parents would watch every night. He soon learned to turn the tv on himself in the morning, and would watch Captain Kangaroo. In one of his earliest memories, he saw an image of a charismatic man on the screen, "That's President Kennedy" his mom Sally would say. She was a huge supporter, and quite frankly, a fan of JFK. He had brought a youthfulness to the White House and indeed, to the nation...'Camelot' or 'The New Frontier' they called it. His Presidency seemed to be a breath of fresh air to America. With his bold plans of NASA space exploration, of landing a Man on the Moon, The Peace Corps, The Civil Rights Act, JFK was a very progressive leader.
No one knew at the time of his personal habits and affairs, it didn't matter to the public then. What Danny remembered most was his mom saying "President Kennedy said this, or President Kennedy did that..."
The phrase 'President Kennedy' even had a ring to it.....There were many times when a commercial would come on, a public service announcement that featured JFK's most famous quote during his inauguration, and Sally would say, "Look Danny! There's President Kennedy!"
And Danny would look at the screen,
"ASK NOT, what your country can do for you...ASK what you can do for your country..."
But at the time, all Danny really heard was, "EFF blah blah blah...EFF blah blah blah..."
It must have been the thick Boston accent.
And another thing about the Kennedys, they were glamorous. Jackie Kennedy was a virtual American Princess, and they had young children, just like millions of Americans at the time.
A common misperception was that their son was called 'John-John'....This was from a quote when he was born. Someone from the press asked, "What's your son's name?"
JFK said "John, John" He was only repeating the name, but the press took it as 'John-John' and the name stuck....
One afternoon in November, Danny, who was being babysat in the afternoon by Joe and Lena Cassa, two delightful elderly neighbors, who had come from Italy, sat and watched their black and white tv at images of a presidential motorcade, scenes of a hospital, and they shook their heads and spoke to each other in Italian. When it was time to take Danny home (which was next door) Joe Cassa was in a somber mood. Sally was home from work, and she had been crying. In a shaky voice, she told Danny, "President Kennedy has been killed..."
There are only two things Danny remembered after that, one was the image of another guy getting shot in the stomach, being played over and over on the news. That was Lee Harvey Oswald.
The other was the next Monday morning, when he went to turn on the tv to watch Captain Kangaroo, but instead saw a parade, with horses,and a US flag-draped coffin, and blocks and blocks of people dressed in black.

Illustration Friday: Play

2006-08-11T12:44:00.000-07:00

RUDI
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

In the 1972 World Series between the Cincinatti Reds and Oakland A's, in game 7, Joe Rudi made an amazing play, and the Reds didn't score. The A's went on to win, woohooo!

August, 1963

2006-08-09T22:17:00.000-07:00

clu
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Little Danny loved to watch television. His parents, Dan and Sally, had an old black and white Emerson television set that Dan had bought from his cousin, and they watched TV nightly. Old shows like Hawaiian Eye, The Untouchables....and Dan liked to watch scary shows like The Outer Limits, and The Twilight Zone....
One night, they were watching the Twilight Zone, Sally thought that it might be too scary for little Danny,
"Naww, let him watch it, it's only a tv show."
So Danny watched, and was terrified, it was about a guy who was on a plane, and every time he looked out the window, he would see a monster on the wing! Danny would hide his eyes whenever he saw the monster.
They also watched westerns like Wagon Train, Gunsmoke, Rawhide (starring a very young Clint Eastwood) and The Virginian.
Dan heard on the radio that one of the stars on The Viginian, an actor named Clu Gulager, would be in San Jose at an auto dealership to sign autographs. It wasn't very often that TV stars visited San Jose, so Dan thought it would be fun, "Hey you wanna go meet 'Clete'? (or whatever his characters name was)
"yeaaaaaaahhh!"
So Dan took his 5 year old son to Bonded Motors in downtown San Jose. There wasn't a huge crowd, but a sizable line of about 30 or 40 people in the showroom, waiting to get his autograph. More than half of the crowd were young women, obviously fans of this young actor. If you've ever seen film clips of girls in the audience at the early Beatles shows on Ed Sullivan, that's what they looked like. Though not screaming or anything.
But there was a definite buzz among them...Dan picked his young son up and stepped away from the line to get a glimpse of this TV star, and there he was, sitting behind a table dressed in his cowboy outfit, obviously in character and clearly enjoying the attention of all these young women. At one point, he pulled out his six shooter and fired into the air, blanks of course, but the loud bang sent shrieks throughout the showroom.
Finally Dan and little Danny came up to the table,
"Well! Who have we here?"
"This is little Danny."
Clu grabbed a photo from a large stack and as he signed, he sang the old Irish tune, "oh Danny boyyyyyy..."
"Here you go buddy!"
Clu gave little Danny a wink and a salute, and Danny saluted back.
Dan said, "What do you say?"
"Thank you"
Both Dan and Clu laughed and he said to Clu, "Thanks alot!"
"You bet!"

August 1955

2006-08-08T21:42:00.000-07:00

At the end of World War Two, lots of men did not come home, 400,000 of them. Those who were lucky enough did come home. In 1946, Merced Mendias was happy that the war was over, and his oldest son Arthur, who flew B17 missions over Germany had finally come home in one piece...Art was a turret gunner, and showed no sense of stress or remorse whatsoever about killing men out of the sky, or being in the line of fire.
The interesting thing about Merced's kids, was that they were of two types; there was Art and Carmen, loud and firey personalities, and there was Robert and Sally, quiet and demure personalities...these two types are not in their extremes of course, there is always a bit of a combination of the two...but those two distinctive traits were later always defined in subsequent generations.
Arthur was the first to have a son. This was in 1948, Merced was thrilled, it was his first grandson! and then two years later another grandson, Michael....
These two sons, little Art (or little 'Toody" as some called them) had all the makings of his dad...brash, funny, a bit ruthless....and then Mike, quiet, sensitive....
In the early 50's, Merced's second son Robert had escaped from Tulare after high school... he put himself through college while working at a cannery, and bought a house in Santa Clara, (which is right next to San Jose). Bob had a certain creative drive. He married and had two kids, Bobby and Susie....
Upon visits, his young nephew Mike would marvel at the gadgets and books his uncle Bob had around the house. In the 50's, television sets were beginning to be all the rage, but Bob would go to electronic shops and buy parts, he wanted to build his own tv set.
"Hey Uncle Bob?"
"uh huh?"
"Why are are you going through all this trouble? when you could just buy a tv set?"
"Well anyone can do that, it's much funner to build one."
Later, Bob was building a roof over the deck of the back yard, but at two strange angles.
"Hey Uncle Bob?"
"uh huh?"
"Why are you building the roof that way?
"So it can capture the maximum amount of shade when the sun angle is at its height."
Well, young Mike wasn't sure what he meant by all that, but he sure was in awe of his Uncle Bob.

March 1958

2006-08-07T23:23:00.000-07:00

The 1950's have been described as almost a Golden Age in American culture. World War Two was over, soldiers came home and started families, they bought homes, they bought cars, they bought refrigerators and stoves and air-conditioners, they even bought television sets. Freeways across the country were being built. And brand new cars that were works of art, with huge fins, and brash new music was on the radio, Rock and Roll they called it, with a swivel-hip guy named Elvis Presley leading the charge...
In one home, these national trends were only in the background. One young man was trying to keep things together. After losing both his parents at the young age of 23, Daniel had become head of the household, with defiant younger siblings. He didn't think he could do it, he didn't even want to. But his uncle helped him out, gave him some money and guidance, urged him to take some classes and learn a trade, so he did.
After a few years of dating, Daniel married Sally in 1955, and she moved in to the house on Willis Street in San Jose, his parent's house. His two brothers had since moved out, but his two younger sisters still lived there. They saw no need to move out, since this was their home too after all, and, though they resented their oldest brother taking over as the head of household and always bossing them around, it became quite clear that Daniel was indeed their new 'father'...
For whatever reason, no one will know, or no one will say from that time...perhaps when Daniel's sisters started treating Sally badly, not overtly, but in small subtle ways, especially when she became pregnant, that Daniel would disown his own sisters and send them away.
On the evening of March 7th, Sally went into labor, so Dan, Joe and Carmen took her to O'Conner Hospital, where they had a new maternity ward. Dr. Dana would deliver the baby....Dan and Joe had both remarked at how stunning Dr. Dana was....she looked very glamorous, like Marilyn Monroe....but very competent indeed...
"This baby is not going to be born in the normal way"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean she'll need a Cesearian Section, and I don't think she can do this again."
So that night, Dan and Joe went out for some beers and came back to the hospital where Sally was still in labor. At about 2:30 in the morning Dan said, "you want a hamburger?"
Sally just looked at him, "whaddya kiddin me???"
The next morning, Sally had a healthy baby boy, they named him little Danny.

September, 1956

2006-08-01T23:12:00.000-07:00

In 1956, President Eisenhower signed a bill that would change America forever...the Interstate Highway Act....which was to create a freeway system all through the country...Every freeway we drive on, every green sign we see on them, even in Hawaii and Alaska, is thanks to Eisenhower....But before that, there were only two-lane highways, most famously Route 66, which winded from Chicago to LA.....with its famous quirky motels and diners, only to die on the vine, once the Interstates bypassed those towns, which is quite a shame....
Dan and Joe had become fast friends, they found themselves back in San Jose after the Korean War...Joe had married Carmen in 1953, and Dan had married Sally...they were sisters.
One day, Dan and Joe decided to drive to Bakersfield...Joe's father had moved his family out to California in the 30's from Oklahoma....from the 'Dust Bowl' during the Depression....."Okies" they called them...and still do, to this day....but Joe evolved...
On that trip that day, they drove a pickup down Highway 99, the main road that connected northern and southern California at the time. At some points it became a four-lane highway, but not an Interstate as we know it, with on-ramps, and no cross traffic....
On the way back they picked up a hitch-hiker, they told him to hop in the back of the truck.....they took the truck off-road and bounced around, and when they got back on the highway, the guy in the truck had fallen out...he was gone. They thought it was hilarious, but they were only in their 20's...
A couple years later, Dan slammed his truck into the back of a huge Chrysler and ruptured his radiator, but the Chrysler kept going, those cars were made out of iron then...so Dan drove home with a steaming radiator and fixed it on his own later...it was no big deal at the time...

August, 1953

2006-07-28T22:48:00.000-07:00

Daniel Guerra had finally gotten his discharge from the Navy...He came home to San Jose, California and met a really nice girl named Sally, who had come up north with her sister to work at the cannery...Dan and Sally met at a local dance. She wasn't sure she liked him at first, he had a moustache!...but he offered to buy her a soda, which she thought was nice....
His father Louis hadn't been feeling well, but it was no big deal...in those days, you get sick, you just shake it off, and it will go away. But Louis' cough got worse and worse...he would cough up blood.
It became clear that he had Tuberculosis, a lung/bronchial disease, or more precisely an inflammation......which was treatable at the time, but Louis stayed in bed and insisted that he would be fine...
Now that his eldest son Daniel was home, all was well, especially since there were still two younger sons and two rather pugnatious teenage daughters at home, and his poor wife who could only worry...
One night, after his coughing spells seemed to stop, he seemed okay.
"Hey papa, you want me to leave this door open for ya?"
"No, can you close the door?..."
And that night, Louis Guerra died in his own bed. He was only 47.
His wife was distraught....Two months later, as she laid in a hospital bed, sick from pneumonia, or probably what can be described as Dying from a Broken Heart.
She said to her oldest son, "Your dad is coming for me on a white horse."
And that night, SHE died...
Poor young Daniel, 23 years old and left to care for the household.

April, 1951

2006-07-17T23:33:00.000-07:00

Young Daniel Guerra had joined the United States Navy in 1948...he was just about to be discharged when the Korean War broke out in 1950. Over two hundred thousand North Korean troops invaded South Korea....it was a Cold War conflagration, the president at the time, Harry Truman, declared that all deferments were to be cancelled...so Daniel was stuck for another two years...he hated Truman for that....but, he did his duty...
One night, on board USS Severling, a destroyer...he heard the Buzzer, an "A-OOOO-GAH" sound over and over, and then, "General Quarters, General Quarters, Battle Stations, All Hands to your Stations!" Daniel manned his gunner's station....."Put these on!" his buddy told him, they were a pair of crude earplugs, they were about to bombard the port of Inchon in Korea...in a daring plan by General MacArthur, a D-Day type of operation.
The 105mm guns went off over and over, with a loud BOOM! each time, with an echoing report when the shells landed, for the rest of his life, Daniel never forgot the sound of those booms....especially during the 4th of July...
In the meantime, on the other side of the Korean penninsula, on board USS Oriskany, an aircraft carrier in the Sea of Japan, there was a young, brash machinist mate named Joe. In time, he and Daniel would become friends...and brothers in law...

December, 1941

2006-07-16T23:52:00.000-07:00

In December of '41, America was finally recovering from the Great Depression, in which thousands, if not millions of men and their families had been displaced. Thanks to Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal, many would find new jobs....In the meantime, during the 30's...some had not been affected by the Depression and managed to hold on to a job and thrive...One such man was Merced Mendias, he was an auto mechanic at a Ford dealership in Tulare, California.
He was a tall, lean and strong man, with a base sense of humor, he was also a very generous man....He married a simple woman who had a kind heart, they had four kids, Arthur, Robert, Carmen, and Sally....
During the Depression times in the 30's, when many had lost their jobs, Merced would take them in, many sleeping on the floor of his home...he would feed them, but would always be after them to find new jobs...any job...sometimes he would put them work himself....he was in the position to do such things.
One day, he caught his oldest son Arthur, somewhat of a bully, swinging his little sister Sally by the arm and leg, threatening to toss her into the rose bushes. "Put your sister down! NOW! or I'll throw YOU in there!" he bellowed....Arthur put her down with a grin of defiance, while Carmen looked on with a smirk....Sally and Robert just sat on the front porch, and looked at each other with bemusement. Merced was a smart man when it came to his kids...One day he put his oldest sons in charge of their youngest sister, Sally....she became lost, and wandered back to the Ford Garage where he worked. He told her to climb into the back seat of the car he was working on, so she did, and fell asleep...Later, her two older brothers, Arthur and Robert showed up at the garage, "We can't find her! we've looked all over!"
Their father bellowed at them, "Well you go out and FIND HER! And don't come back until you do!!
A few years later, little Sally was playing hopscotch on the front sidewalk when a neighbor ran up, "Turn on your radio! we're being attacked! The Japs bombed Pearl Harbor! We're at War!"...
Upon hearing this news, Merced shuddered....
Arthur signed up, he was old enough, and joined the Army Air Corps (which is now the Air Force)...but his younger brother Robert was too young to join, and his love of books and history and engineering always pre-occupied him, he always had his nose in a book...until one night when his father was so frustrated that he slapped the book away from him. "Your brother is out there fighting this war! And what do you do? just sit there and read your stupid books?"
Robert didn't say a word, he sat there with his eyes welling with tears....he later told his younger sister that he would leave home as soon as he graduated from high school.

November, 1937

2006-07-16T22:41:00.000-07:00

Louis Guerra was a proud man. He worked for the City of San Jose, as a line/railroad worker. In those days, the rail was the main link to San Francisco and the East Bay. There were a few roads, mainly two-lane highways which have now become Interstates.
But back in those days, if anyone wanted to travel into the City, they took the train.
One extremely rainy night, Louis got a telephone call, which was a luxury at the time, they had finally gotten a telephone line!
But this call was not a friendly "hello! you have a phone too now!"...No, this was from his supervisor..."You need to come down to the site, RIGHT NOW!"
So Louis put his coat on and said, "I'll be back as soon as I can, watch the kids..."
This was in a pouring rain at 10 PM in the evening....
Louis had 4 young kids at the time...Daniel, the oldest....Mael (short for Ishmael), Elias, Dora, and Eva....
His wife was a very nice looking and good natured woman. She calmly entertained the kids by playing records and acting out the songs...she was also quite an artist, though just a hobby. In her letters, she would embellish the margins with detailed vines and illustrations, with a quill pen, she drew portraits of her children...Daniel loved her for that...her charm, and serene nature...And he also loved his father, but he also feared him, because his father was strict...and sometimes harsh.
In 1939, Louis had saved up enough money to buy a new car, a 1939 Ford....Daniel, 9 years old at the time, thought that he might please his father and wash the car, so he got a steel wool brush and literally scrubbed the paint off the door!
His father was outraged....he took Daniel to the garage and whipped him with a belt....until he felt a sense of remorse, realizing that his son was only excited and was just trying to help.
After that, Louis put his son to work, showing him all the aspects of automotive mechanics, "You must always make sure to keep your cars running, ALWAYS check the oil, and always check the tires...
and son...I know I'm hard on you, but I want you to survive in this world."

Illustration Friday: Sacrifice

2006-07-14T13:21:00.000-07:00

BATTLE
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

I painted this a few years ago, the battle of Coral Sea, in honor of those who have served, and who have made the ultimate sacrifice.

Illustration Friday: Skyline

2006-07-07T15:55:00.000-07:00

TOWER2
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

I drew this after reading a book by Arthur C. Clarke about a tower that reached into space. It would certainly add to the city's skyline.

There are Angels among us.....

2006-07-03T23:26:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the movie, "Lilies of the Field"? with Sidney Poitier as a drifter who helps a small group of nuns build a chapel?....The head nun, upon seeing 'Homer Smith' drive up to their small compound says, "I have prayed for a strong man...you will help us, yes?"....
But he says, "oh no no...I'm just passing through..." But, he does stay and help, and eventually he does build a chapel for them. In a bit of symbolism, I always noticed that Homer Smith was wearing White....white jeans, white t-shirt....could it symbolize that Homer Smith was an angel sent to them?....
This has led me to think of my own experiences in which there may be angels among us....In fact, I'm sure of it...
I think that our lifelong friends are angels....and we somehow know who they are, so we don't even worry if they're gonna be there or not, they will be there...
But the extra special angels are there when we don't even expect it...
Around 1983 after I got out of school, I lived in San Leandro and joined the working world, and I went through that time feeling a sense of isolation....One night I left a pub in Berkeley and sure enough...There was my old pal and college roomate Rory walking in!
We went back in and reminisced..... What are the odds of such things?
I went on a trip thru Europe....and I'll be damn if I didn't see people I knew! Like at train stations mostly, which makes sense, people converge at train stations, especially in Europe, but still! I saw them!
Maybe they were angels not caught.....
When I fell off a fire escape in 1988, I was down there with a broken leg, and broken left side....no sooner than 5 minutes later a woman came by and rushed back to call 911...she too was an angel.....I swear, angels ARE all around us....

It was Five years ago Today

2006-07-03T22:24:00.000-07:00

Five years ago, my life was humming along quite nicely...These are my specific memories of that day, July 3, 2001....on that day, Dave came into my cubicle, "Dan, can we talk to you for a minute? just come into my office."...I thought, oh oh...was it something I did? or more importantly, I wondered if it was another company setback, and I was right.
Dave laid it on the line...."Look, in business, you gotta do tough things, and today, we gotta do Layoffs, and you're one..."
Well I just exhaled greatly with the weight of a ton of bricks landing on my head...Dave continued, "Hey, I KNOW this sucks, it really does suck for all of us..."
By that time, the 'laid off' demon had already set in and I was in that numb sort of state where you just function...."oh yeah...okay"
Soon after, Steve, Brian, and a couple other guys went in.
As in any layoff, everyone is stunned, and bummed, but we just go through the certain motions as though everything is normal.
Four of us decided to walk to lunch at Marvins, Steve asked me, "so what are you gonna do?" I said, "you mean today, or the rest of my life?" We all cracked up...
We got to Marvins and ordered lunch...Steve had a hot pastrami and he seemed to enjoy that sandwich like it was the best thing he ever had...I understood....
Now, Five years later I have empathy for everything, like Warren Zevon said before he died, "Enjoy Every Sandwich"....
Last summer we had a reunion picnic, it was great to get together with those guys, and the fact that they show up to these things speaks volumes....Back in the day, we were part of something!...we were gonna build something big, then we would sell the company and cash in!.....
We didn't cash in.

The Bravery of Being Out of Range

2006-06-28T22:41:00.000-07:00

There are two kinds of 'Bravery Being Out of Range' (thanks Roger Waters for the title).....There's the false bravery of Knowing you're out of range, in any situation...and then there's the situations where you're in the middle of everything, but still have the capability to stay out of range, if that makes any sense....
All my life I have had this capability of being out of range...out of range of emotion, out of range of friends getting too close, out of range of family...it is a lonely place, but not too lonely, because I do have a handfull of truly good friends and family who I love dearly, and that is real....but they will never know about my 'sleeping inside the dishwasher' thing, (as from a previous blog)...
I am out of range...I don't know how to precisely describe it....it's like being in a room full of people, and you meet and greet everyone with a definite charm and friendliness, but you're not quite all there....they will never know 'me' deep down, nor would I expect them to, probably because I don't know how to let them go there.
'Bravery?' well maybe not, but I wouldn't want this on anyone....
Ohhh, it's not quite as bad as it all sounds, I'm just noticing this in myself lately, especially in the past few years, where I have been stripped down, and must realize these things about myself....others might too, under similar circumstances.....It takes a certain bravery to be out of range, and in this, I do take a certain pride....
Many people are out of range....and many don't even know it...and end up as sociopaths and nutcases....
But I can assure you I'm still as sane anyone else! I think!

The Time Tunnel

2006-06-23T22:36:00.000-07:00

Back in the 60's there was a TV show called The Time Tunnel....Two American scientists who traveled though time...in an amazing and well-budgeted television show.
The main characters were Tony and Doug...they would float thru a corridor of time, and then tumble onto the ground in whatever period of history...be it, the Titanic sinking, Abraham Lincoln getting shot, the Alamo, the Walls of Jericho, whatever.....Tony and Doug were there....
When I was 8...me and my buddy, the Other Danny... always played 'Time Tunnel', I had a green turtle neck, and Danny had a gray sweater on when we played, just like Tony and Doug...the funnest part was pretending to tumble, slow-motion like, onto the ground and we would get up and say, "Where are we?"
"I don't know"....That's what Tony and Doug always said....
We didn't know what time we were in, or what age, we made it up as we went along.
I wish that life could be that way....I wish I had access to a Time Tunnel.
I think many of us do...if we could just dial in a time at a certain point in our lives and just make a little change here or there...if only....if only....
I can think of numerous times where I wish I could use a Time Tunnel....
But we can't do that....there is no Time Tunnel...we live as human beings in a timeline that is in own choosing....and I'm fine with that....but still, I wish there was a Time Tunnel....

Last Year Called, He Wants His Raft Back

2006-06-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

Almost exactly a year ago, I started this blog when I was selling my house, wondering where I would end up...well I did end up at a great place, a fine old house in an old neighborhood in Santa Rosa...as in an earlieir post, this was my new 'Life Raft' ...a sanctuary, a place to hang your head and sleep, a place to sit on the couch and watch your favorite television shows....
Maybe I should have entitled this, "Five Years Ago Called, He Wants His Life Back"....because I miss that life...
The owner of this house wants to sell it, which means I may have to move again...hopefully not...but still, it's back to being at the whims of others...
I know, for five years I could have done so much, for five years I could have started my own business, gotten another job in my industry, though that's been tough, I HAVE tried, and I have gotten a few gigs....but....nothing like it was in the 90's...
I feel like a pariah, an outsider...so much so, that it takes some effort sometimes to say, 'don't worry, it'll be okay'...and as it always has been okay, but I know that I haven't done enough...sorry for this sort of 'confessional'....
Sometimes it's hard to do just about anything, not that I FEEL depressed or upset, but more like an emotional numbness...in 2001 a few unfortunate things happened, and I might say I had some good coping skills then...but when some good things happened later on, like getting a job at Fluent, I felt no sense of joy either....like my emotions have been flattened...
These past five years have been in a cloud like that... until today when I realized I may have to move again...I certainly don't want to...but the prospect of it has somehow sparked an 'alive again' instinct...a survival instinct perhaps, and perhaps a way out of this funk.....all I have to do is think of my friend Wes and what he's going through, then all of these foolish problems seem minimal...

I'm In With the 'In Crowd'

2006-06-17T20:58:00.000-07:00

Remember the "In Crowds" in high school? Everyone knows what that is...the popular kids, the kids who sat at the "cool" table at lunch, the jocks, the cheerleaders, the outgoing kids who ran for every student election, joined every club...the kids who were in 'cliques'....
I was not one of those kids in the 70's... and I was certainly not on the polar opposite side, the 'nerds' or the 'heads' who only earned disdain...No, I was a "nobody" the first three years of high school...those kids you see in the hall and in class, who just past by like automatons, faceless, nameless, who never spoke up in class, never joined clubs...though I did play some sports, I was never in the "In Crowd."
There were many like me...it's not that I was totally friendless or anything, in fact I had a lot of good buddies in the same position, we would gather at lunch in the periphery. Some of us used to observe the whole social phenomenon...Joe Geminetti, he was one guy who was a huge A's fan and had a certain intelligence and insight that I appreciated, but he was also a bit dysfunctional.
And Tom Walker, we were schoolmates since Kindergarten, and we made home movies with his 8mm camera...Tom was smart...he had the whole "In Crowd" thing down back then...."Oh F*ck them! you mean I'm supposed to do or say this or that, just so I can be labeled "cool" ? Or like if I hang out with so-and-so, Jones is gonna say, "you're not cool, you're not one of us'....f*ck them!"
So that was a very good insight by Tom, even back then, good for him.
Even still, I had always looked at the In Crowd with a certain envy...In spite of my painful shyness.
Then things changed in my Senior year, I had a car! a 1972 Ford Pinto...One guy, Dan Matson who was a jock and in with the "In Crowd" was a hockey fan, and so was I, the California Seals, an NHL team in the 70's....So me, Dan, Scott Hall, and Bobby Novak went to the Seals game, and I drove...
After that I had an 'In' to the "In Crowd"!!....but it was too late, we were all graduating soon....
In later years, after working at different places, I have observed that work places are often like high school....depending on the size, sometimes very much so...the Cliques, the 'In Crowds', the jocks, the nerds, the heads, the rah-rah's, and yes the nobodys....and sometimes, yes I was In With the 'In Crowd!
Well the whole point about beloging to any kind of In Crowd is a natural thing, that... I believe it is hard-wired in all of us humans for 50 thousand years ..we want to belong, we want to be accepted in a group, we want to have something that we can contribute to the tribe...and it's good to have friends and family (obviously)...we just want to belong....

My pal Wes

2006-06-16T01:54:00.000-07:00

In everone's life, there are certain individuals that you encounter as you go about your life, that for some chance you find them only though life experience....and when you meet them, you know that they will be in your for life forever, you just know....
I remember meeting such a guy...
A long time ago, I worked for a game company and they were bringing in artists from near and far...in came an old hippie looking guy and I instantly liked his demeanor... humorous and self-effacing, but most of all he was a fantastic artist...not only that, he had other talents too.....
I think that I related to his sense of vulnerability, I liked his sense of humor that just comes naturally....the spontanious kind, a natural WIT... I am very...VERY drawn to people like Wes, because I think they draw the best out of ME....back then, whenever I was around Wes, it was joke time. Time to crack jokes, do silly impressions...
He produced a radio show, and invited me along to participate, because he recognized in me, that same sort of fun and irreverence...
Wes is sick again....he had congestive heart failure problems about five years ago. I went to see him in Seattle and we went to the Mariners ballgame, he walked with a cane with a fragility of a very old man, but he still had his wit...he still cracked jokes, I think he enjoyed just getting out to the game....but he's sick again...
I know what it's like when grandparents, old relatives, and even parents die, it's the cycle of life....but when friends die, that's a new one....and Wes isn't gone yet, not by any means....but he emailed me today and he seems afraid.
I tried to tell him that he musn't be afraid...that there are no atheists in foxholes, that everyone you're life touches does change...usually for the better...I don't know if that was very helpful, but I know this....
whenever I feel sorry for myself, I need only think my pal Wes...I'm praying for him.

Illustration Friday: Jungle2

2006-06-09T12:46:00.000-07:00

JUNGLE2
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Hmmm, that first one wouldn't fit on I.F....
Let's try this one...

Illustration Friday: Jungle

2006-06-09T12:11:00.000-07:00

JUNGLE1
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Somewhere in the Central American jungle, there are probably Mayan ruins still to be discovered.

"On the Double!!"

2006-06-05T00:38:00.000-07:00

I never served in the military, and I have the utmost respect for those who have. My last name is Guerra, which in Spanish and also Italian, translated means 'War'.....it's a fairly common name actually, probably derived from when people took their names based on what they did, such as 'Baker', 'Miller', etc....
Though I consider myself a very laid back and peaceful person, I have always been fascinated by war history, tactics, and weaponry...my favorite movies are war movies, mostly World War 2.
If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I suspect that I may have been a German soldier during WW2, I've had numerous dreams over the years, very vivid, I'm in the Wermacht and there's an air raid...the sights, the sounds, and most importantly, the fear...it's all there...
Anyway, my dad and my uncle Joe served in the Navy, during the Korean War. I think their experiences then, as young men, made a life-long impression on them. Whenever we went to Disneyland, or to an A's game, or 4th of July, whenever there were fireworks, without fail my dad would say "That booming sound reminds me of being aboard ship..."
My Uncle Joe was very fond of the phrase "On the double!!" to us kids...looking back, I can see that his experience in the Navy made a lasting impression on bossing us kids around, my dad did it too. "I want this room CLEAN, Mister!" or, "Let's GO, on the double! go! go!"
Those were the orders they barked at us...as they were barked at them...not that it's a bad thing, on the contrary, it was a good thing...it meant order and discipline and character, which I respect....and still strive for...

Illustration Friday: Portrait

2006-06-02T14:48:00.000-07:00

Afgan
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

You may recognize this portrait of an Afghan girl which appeared on the cover of National Geographic. It was so stunningly haunting that I had to draw it. As you can see, I never finished...

Blades of Grass

2006-06-02T14:44:00.000-07:00

MARCEL
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Last night I was working on some pencil drawings, and I realized that this is how it all started, how I became an artist...with a simple pencil and paper. I had always liked to draw when I was a kid, mostly cars. But I never took it very seriously. Then when I was in college, I took a class, Drawing 101, that's when everything changed.
I had no idea what I wanted to be when I was growing up. My parents insisted that I be a lawyer, or a dentist. I had no real desire of becoming either one, but since I didn't know what I wanted to do, I just went along with it. Soon, it became apparent that they EXPECTED me to become a laywer. (me, a lawyer? ha!)
So when I took that class, it was like a personal revelation. I had a great teacher, he would take personal time with each student. The most important thing I learned was simply to 'draw what you see'. So I took that very literally and drew as close to real as I could. The assignments were pretty straightforward, the teacher would assign a topic for the week, then we would draw something, then on Friday everyone put their drawings on the wall and the class would critique them. This drawing was the first one I did. I was astonished at the positive feedback I got, this was the first thing I was ever 'good at'...and more importantly, I loved doing it. From then on, I drew all the time, dozens and dozens of drawings. It was like a blade of grass had sprouted in my soul and was now flourishing into a lush garden. Friends and family were very impressed, and I would draw things for them, portraits, their houses, things like that. My parents were very proud, but they only saw it as a pleasant diversion, like a hobby. they had no idea that I had discovered what I wanted to do...what I wanted to BE. They were still dead-set on the lawyer thing. So when I told them that this is what I wanted to do for a living, they hit the roof. They felt angry and betrayed, and would never cease to discourage me from taking that path. But I resisted, and I did compromise by completing my business degree 'just in case'....
So as I entered the Real World, I landed a job at a computer company, drawing technical illustrations for user manuals. It didn't pay a whole lot, but I was making my way in the world, doing what I loved...drawing.
I got laid off, and it was a struggle in the 80's, doing temp jobs here and there. Then in 1988, a new medium was emerging, computer graphics. And I was lucky, I got a job at a game company and things just took off from there. Somewhere along the way, I stopped drawing, but I did take up painting, and did that as a hobby.
In 2001, I got laid off again...and again it's been a struggle, as I take on gigs here and there. Sometimes I think, well, maybe my parents were right after all....but lately I've been drawing with pencils again, and I realize I've come full circle. It feels good to draw...like a blade of grass coming up through a crack in the sidewalk.

Illustration Friday: Sorry!

2006-05-20T13:31:00.000-07:00

Sorry!
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

We used to play all kinds of board games, Monopoly, Scrabble, Risk, etc...One of them was Sorry!

Can Danny eat over?

2006-05-19T00:10:00.000-07:00

Tonite we had dinner the old fashioned way, well probably not 'old fashioned' in a real sense, but it is to me. We made dinner and instead of loading our plates buffet style and trekking into the living room to watch "Lost", we took the bowls and passed them around and served ourselves. So perhaps it wasn't completely 'old fashioned' because we would have eaten at the kitchen table, which I haven't done since I lived at home with my parents. Ever since I've lived on my own, my dinners have always been at the coffee table in front of the TV. This is nothing new, once in a great while my mom would set up the TV Trays if there was a special event, or a big time movie on, and we would eat in the living room. But most of the time we ate at the kitchen table, and we had our specific seats at the table. When I would stay with my cousins, it was the same way, we sat at the table and there was the entree, like roast or whatever, and side dishes like string beans, mashed potatoes, etc...
At our house, I can remember the main things we always had....round steak, beans, cooked spinach, that was because my dad loved round steak, which has never been my favorite, but that was his, so that's what we always had....We had other things of course, corn on the cob, potatoes come to mind...Once in awhile we would go get these chicken boxes from 'The Burger Bar' a nearby drive-in type of place that was the most delicious chicken I ever tasted...they were these pink boxes that has three pieces of chicken, fries, and a bowl of chili...it was wonderful, way better and not as greasy as KFC. I remember dipping the fries into the chili instead of the ketchup (catsup?)
When we first moved into the house on Doma Drive in San Jose, I started to make buddies with the kids around there that summer of 1964...a while later, my best buddy was Danny Pinone "The Other Danny" we called him...one day he came over and brought a note from his mom, it was an invitation from his mom for me to have dinner with them the next night. My mom wrote a note to her, thanking her, and gave it to the Other Danny...it was all so formal then!
So the next night, my parents made sure I was dressed up, hair combed...and my mom went on and on, "Remember, you are to be on your BEST behavior, ALWAYS say please and thank you, never reach, ASK for them to pass it to you..." It was like going on a job interview!...
So I rode my bike over there at 5:30, and there was the other Danny out front, playing catch with his older brother Eddie and his little brother David, still in their play clothes. We went into their garage, since dinner wouldn't be ready yet, we played ping pong. Then his dad opened the door (from the kitchen) He was large man, with a 'big' magnamous personality "Heyy! look at THIS guy! you going to the prom or something?" he said to me, we all laughed, but I instantly felt 'overdressed' and a bit self-conscious...
We all sat at the table, I remained quiet, which is part of my nature, but I also observed......I observed how traditional this family was. The dad obviously ruled the roost, and the mom ruled the kitchen, she had everything under control and made sure everyone washed up. The dad said, "Eddie, you start, pass this over to Danny and his friend Danny, ha!..." I think we had roast chicken and mashed potatoes, but I remember it was very good. It was traditional that way, where dishes were passed around and you take your helping. I observed their kitchen, the portrait of John F. Kennedy, the ceramic tile that said "Bless this house, oh Lord we pray, make it safe both night and day"...I also observed the dynamics of the family, they were very nice people, they talked about the events of each one's day. This is one thing I have never experienced, that is, growing up in a large family, with brothers and sisters. Anyway, little David said, "Danny's looking at everything everyone does..." everyone laughed, but it was true! the Observer was being observed!
So I rode home, and my mom had me write a thank you note. Later on we had the Other Danny over for dinner...I wonder what he thought about the round steak...I know he liked the Coke, "we don't get to have this at home!" So I realized back then, when you go eat over someone's house, you always experience something new, which is usually a treat.

War Games

2006-05-15T22:37:00.000-07:00

I must first acknowledge the men and women overseas right now, especially in Iraq, Afganistan...doing their duty in hostile conditions...War is certainly not a game...it is Hell on Earth for those who experience it....Now that I'm older, I understand the seriousness and horror of War....it is something to be avoided at all costs.....
That said, when I was a kid in the 60's. War was cool....we didn't know about the horror, we just knew from movies like "The Great Escape" and "The Dirty Dozen", and TV shows like 'Combat' ... We played war all the time, but it was the World War Two scenario, when the bad guys were the Germans....and one group of kids would say, "okay we'll be the Germans, you guys go over there and we'll start..."
Where I grew up in San Jose, there were tons of open fields and orchards at the time, lots of hiding places and we would set up ambushes beforehand, like loading dirt into Baggie plastic bags and then climb some trees and Bomb the other guys...and then sometimes we'd get bombed, and you're sweating and it turns into mud...it was fun...I was always "Kirby" when we played Combat....
Bobby Novack always had the coolest toy guns, back then he had an arsenal of toy machine guns, the kind where you bring back the lever and just pull the trigger...dadadadadadadadoooow!
I wanted one of those guns! My parents were very speculative about the toys they would buy me, my dad was against toys, he thought I should just focus on working on the yard, he was strict...but my mom was more sympathetic, she would be generous and buy me certain toys, but she drew the line at the toy machine guns....
Aside from that, there were always the "Plastic Army Guys" in which I still have a fondness for, to this day they are sentries in my toothpick fort!
I think it was with THESE guys, that true creativity comes out....you can create whatever battle scenario you want, and it also can develop voice-over and sound-effect skills!
One of the funniest things, when me and my cousin Joe set up all these scenarios, we would dig these elaborate small forts in the ground and set up all these little army guys...."okay you ready?" then we'd turn the hose on and flood the army guys out, and the sound effects we would make!.....the machine-gun fire thusly:
Tommy Gun - "th th th th th th th th th th"....in small bursts...you have to make the noise from the tip of your tongue...
Large machine gun - "chuhcuchuchcuchcuchcuchcuc!"...this is harder, from the back of the tounge...
Rifles - "Panyo! Panyo!"
And then the War would be over when my aunt would walk out and say "Look at all this damn mud! What the hell are you kids doing?"

Bug in the House

2006-05-13T01:53:00.000-07:00

When the ocean tide retreats, it leaves tidal pools, with many busy little creatures in there, like a complete society...living in the pools, they forget about the Sea....
I had a certain revelation as I chased around a small cricket in the house, who chirped and chirped.
In the past, my first reaction was to simply kill it...
But no, not this time, there were dozens of crickets out there, chirping for the first time and this one was simply stuck inside the house...I did not consider him (or her) an unsightly bug or a thing to be destroyed, but a thing that needed to be reunited with it's fellows outside.... I thought of the spider web near the back porch light, when a mosquito hawk flew by , and the spider host came out, and then went back in, welp, no dinner for him tonight. Such is their daily life, all these busy little creatures living their lives and their destinies. At the time I thought, I need to clean out all these damn bugs, just hose them all down....but then I thought, no...I won't be their 'Sea' this time, as long as they stay outside the house of course!....But in this incredible explosion of the bug's activity, and plants too, I have realized that as we chase out our own destinies, aren't we all just trying to do the same thing? Not to compare us sentient human beings with bugs or anything...but I was just happy for the cricket tonight. And then there's always my own Sea....

One more on Language

2006-05-06T20:20:00.000-07:00

A few posts ago, I complained about people who post song lyrics...that they must mean a great deal to those that post them, but for some who read them, maybe not as much....well, I was mistaken at the time, song lyrics do mean a great deal, it's poetry.
Now I'm going to do something now...I'm posting a passage from a book!...
The book is called "London" by Edward Rutherford. He's a great author and storyteller who does incredible historical research. It's about the city of London, England from the time it was a small camp of hunter-gatherers, through Roman times, Elizabethan times, right up until modern times....anyway, I'm at the part where the English Language is taking shape....
After the Romans left around AD 400, for 200 hundred years the land was in turmoil...there was one leader, Artuirus, who held things together as people from Europe, namely Norway, Denmark, and Germany came over and settled there...this Arturius was the basis of the King Arthur legend.
Anyway, here's the passage from the book...two fisherman are sailing up the Thames river, and the older one is explaining the sights....
"That's Badric's Island, he said" in Anglo-Saxon, 'island' was pronounced like 'eye' so it came out 'Badric's Eye' which sounded like "Battersea"..."And over there, that's Chalk Island on the right" the sound Chelch Eye which made a sound roughly like 'Chelsea'...There were numerous settlements, a farm here, a settlement there. These too bore Saxon names like 'ham' for home, 'ton' for town...As they made their way upriver, he pointed out, "there's Fulla's-ham, and up there, there is Kensin's-ton!"
Well anyway, that's the passage...some of the main districts of London, one my favorite cities on earth...Battersea, Chelsea, Fullsham, and Kensington.
And so on goes the English language, of which we read, write, and speak.

Nope, just American

2006-05-05T00:29:00.000-07:00

There was a movie starring Clint Eastwood and Jeff Bridges called "Thunderbolt and Lightfoot" that came out in 1974...They were drifters, bank robbers...the scene when Eastwood climbs into the getaway car the exchange goes like this:
Eastwood: "What's your name, boy?"
Bridges: "Lightfoot"
Eastwood: "Lightfoot......you Indian?
Bridges: "Nope, just American"
I went to the barber the other day, he complained about the damn Mexicans who were taking over the area where he had his old barber shop. He asked, "what was you name again? your Last name"
I said "well my last name is Guerra"
"Is that Hispanic?"
I said yes, well we go back in California, many generations...and then he seemed relieved....then he started talking about the illegal immigrants, how they should all be shipped back...
This was before that huge march last Monday....and this is my personal opinion on this....
As a person with a Mexican background, I CANNOT relate at all, on many levels....to any of these people, I cannot relate to crossing borders, to leaving families, to standing in corners waiting for some guy in a pick up drive up and offer work....I cannot relate to free medicine, free social services at our tax payers expense...I can not relate to gang activity....
No... none of this....I don't think it's realistic to ship all 'mexicans' back...they are here to stay...and they are certainly not 'bad' people, they are human beings who just want the same things we all do.
My own dad would hire these guys...."hey, they're good workers, I don't give a damn, I'll pay them" He didn't care.
I admire the hell out of him for still speaking the language, and I try to too, but never as fluent as him.
I just wish they would try to assimilate more...at least learn English. When I travelled to other countries, I went out of my way to bring phrase books and at least make an attempt to communicate with the locals in their own language, however butchered it might be..."when in Rome" as they say....
Then one time when I was in Tulare visiting my parents, It dawned on me that there is a virual apartheid when it came to some of the Hispanic communities. They seem to live in enclaves where they have no desire or intention to learn English or assimilate in any way to American culture...this diappoints me... we went into a restaurant a gal came out..."que quedes coca?" (who's Coke is this?)
I had to ask, what country is this? I'm just an American.

Illustration Friday: Under the Sea

2006-04-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

ATLANTIS
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Under the sea, there may be places that used to be above the sea.
It's their world now.

Illustration Friday: Robot

2006-04-21T20:37:00.000-07:00

Robot
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

"Danger, Will Robinson!" This is a sketch of my all-time favorite robot, from the Lost in Space tv show. I found it interesting that 'Robby' the robot from Forbidden Planet was designed by the same guy.

I Have a Record Player

2006-04-21T01:51:00.000-07:00

I bought a turntable, or rather an old-style Record Player a couple years ago, so that I might play these tons of old LP records I still have, with a ton of songs from the past that still echo in my mind...
I thumbed through the stack of these old LP albums and I played some of them on the turntable....ohhh the nostalgia! there's certain songs, and certain albums in this endless stack of old records that can only take me back to my youth! Oy!!
ahhh the 70's....
Anyway.....well during the rediscovering of this treasure trove of LP music, and a certain personal history of the albums I bought, and the music I listened to at that particular time, and these records, and these songs, they're like a time capsule now...
As for the songs themselves...I think that'll be another post...BUT!
There is the entire ritual of actually handling an LP record....you have to handle it by the edges...and then when you put it on the turntable, you have to make sure if you're playing the song you want, get it on the groove that you can see between each song on the record...use the the cue arm to do it...unless you have a steady hand, and can put that tone arm down on the right song....
I guess that's old school now....I miss it!

Illustration Friday: Spotted

2006-04-14T18:19:00.000-07:00

OBSERV~F
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Target spotted! This is from the game Destroyer Commander. The ship parts were modeled, but the background is photoshop. It's always fun to combine the two.

Illustration Friday: Spring

2006-03-31T16:38:00.000-08:00

CATFISH
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Spring means baseball is here!
This is a watercolor of my boyhood hero, Catfish Hunter (RIP).

Illustration Friday: Monster

2006-03-24T13:07:00.000-08:00

JETBIRD
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Another from the hybrid series...
"What if we mounted engines on a bird's skeleton?"
"It would look like some sort of monster."

Illustration Friday: Feet

2006-03-20T17:40:00.000-08:00

spiderwalker
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Another in the 'bug' series....with feet like these, who needs Dr. Scholls?

Today was my birthday

2006-03-09T00:29:00.000-08:00

I suppose that when anyone celebrates their birthday, it should be something special, and it has always been this way for me, but perhaps I think I have celebrated my own birthday in ways that most others have not...I have celebrated many of own birthdays on my own....but not today, I had some champagne with a good friend, this to me was a wonderful way to spend another year in this world..... Another year....
As birthdays go, I can remember the thrill when I was a kid, of the upcoming birthday party that I was going to have, and the presents that I would get!! ohh maan, the toys, the games!, like GI Joe accessories, or Man From Uncle attache' sets, or toy machine guns....and Hot Wheel cars, those were the best...
Birthdays are the best when you're a kid, you have an empty canvas ahead of you, and even then you don't realize it ...then birthdays become a little more complicated when you reach your teens...you're growing up, you don't know what you want (or at least I didn't) and your parents seem to understand this, but they don't understand you, or what you even want, either materially or spiritually, but that's okay, it seems almost normal.
And then you reach your Twenties........and here's where the later birthday stories come.....
When in college, you get thrown into Chico Creek when it's your birthday...when it became my turn, I ran and dodged and faked moves just running away from the guys in the dorms, they chased me all along the green, in fact I admired myself as I did some artful dodges, like football moves, but they caught me, and as the tradition, they all carried me to the creek and threw me in!...the water was cold, and as I climbed out...I had long hair at the time...I shook my hair like a dog and drenched them all!
....ha!
After that, in 1983 my parents took me out to dinner on my birthday, they wondered when I was gonna get a real job, then a week later I DID get one! at North Star Computers...I considered it a birthday present.
Then I was on my own...literally....my birthdays were always spent in ways that had at least a certain symbolism.....
You see, I'm an only child, and as I grew up with no siblings, except for my cousins, I swear I had the whole world to myself...though my parents made sure not to spoil me too much, they probably did....but that aside, it was living day to day, working and playing and spending a lot of time on my own....I wasn't lonely, I didn't know any other way, and I did have little buddies in the neighborhood I would play with....quite frankly, when I would see how other siblings would bicker and argue, I welcomed the solitude...
When I got older I just did things on my own, especially on my birthday....it was just to travel or go to events like basketball games, I did that for many years in the 80's....on my 27th birthday I attended a U2 concert at the Cow Palace in San Francisco. In the 90's I would travel to Arizona and watch spring training games, those were fun trips, even though I was by myself. During this time I would sometimes experience extreme bouts of lonliness, even though I was used to doing things on my own, I recognized the lack of human connection, and the feeling of being on the periphery....more so in the 80's, but thank God for friends you find along the way.
Over the years, I became friends with others who were born in March, other Pisceans, so in 1989 or so, we had our first Pisces Party, and we've been having them ever since, every March. Sometimes I throw them, sometimes others do, but they're always a fun get-together with good friends. It's become more like a birthday season, instead of a specific day.
As I get older, the day itself is not as significant, or no less significant as any other day when it is just good to be alive.

Illustration Friday: Insect

2006-03-03T15:39:00.000-08:00

BUGCOPTE
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

I have always thought that helicopters look like giant insects, like dragonflies. Here's the comparison.

Random Memory number One....

2006-02-28T00:53:00.000-08:00

I think that we all have special memories in our minds, childhood memories, fond memories....but I think my own mind is cluttered by random memories...
Nowadays, there's a thing called Tivo, a DVR that can capture and hold anything you want on TV.....
and then there's useless shows that you'll never watch that become buried in the memory of the DVR box...
My brain is like a DVR box....I swear it is... my brain is so full of useless information, sometimes I don't know how to compartmentalize it....I can tell you how thick the hull of USS Essex was, but I can't remember what I had for breakfast two days ago....
Herein lies these memories, so vivid, complete with the sights and sounds, like a video.....
Chester, England...in 1982, I was traveling and very tired, it was 8:30 in the morning and I only wanted to catch a city bus to the train station. A very pretty girl was waiting at the stop as well, waiting to go work....In my shyness, I asked, "excuse me, do these busses come on time? I need to catch the train..."
She said, "oh, well sometimes they do"
hmmmm...meanwhile another guy came up to the bus stop, another young guy, an American, very boisterous...like a young Randy Quaid, and when it was established that we were a couple of American dudes I noticed the poor girl backing away physically, obviously intimidated....
The Randy Quaid guy was a bit obnoxious, and waiting for this bus became lengthy....so I asked if there were any hotels in the area...
"oh yes yes, down Brompton Road, that way..."
I started walking and sure enough ol' "Randy Quaid" followed me....ohhh, he wasn't a bad guy, just a talkitive guy and I was tired, just in need of a hotel room or a train, just a place to sleep.
I lost him at the 'Bear and Billet' a pub near the port and the timing was perfect, I caught the train and off I went to Glasgow, Scotland....and to this day, I think about the Randy Quaid guy and the poor girl at the bus stop.
This memory is vivid in my mind...there are tons more....

Afterglow

2006-02-27T01:29:00.000-08:00

There was a song on Letterman the other night, it was the band INXS who had hosted an entire series over the summer, in which they auditioned a lot of singers, and finally they picked one...so they did a number called Afterglow, which I assume was dedicated to their old lead singer, Michael Hutchence who died.... I Tivoed the the episode and then began playing the song over and over, and indeed...it's a song about loss, and I started to think about my dad, and the words seeped in, they seemed to fit more and more, and I found myself in tears...
Now, before I do this, let me say I sometimes find it annoying when people post their favorite song lyrics...like we are all supposed to appreciate these lyrics just as profoundly as the original poster, but we can never relate to them as personally as they can. But I can understand how much certain lyrics to any song can mean a great deal to anyone....
So I'm just gonna do this once...I promise, this will be the only time I will ever post lyrics...It reminded me of my dad, and I miss him very much...
This is from the new INXS song 'Afterglow'

Touch me and I will follow
In your Afterglow
Heal me from all this sorrow
As I let you go
I will find my way
I will sacrifice
But now I'm living
In your Afterglow

Illustration Friday: Song

2006-02-21T16:44:00.000-08:00

Song
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

This goes way back, an image of Jon Lord, keyboard player in Deep Purple. It was an assignment to draw something using pointilism, so I wore out black, yellow, orange and red felt pens as I dotted away.

oh this Gabby

2006-02-17T01:11:00.000-08:00

To anyone who has ever owned a cat, you'll know what I mean....I took in a cat named Gabby, and she's a good and sweet kitty, and she's got some street, but jeeeez!
Here's how a typical evening goes...she will go to the back sliding door and meow her head off, like she wants to go outside, and then when I slide it open, she sits there and then runs back inside to her dish....I replenish her dish, she doesn't eat, and runs back to the door and meows loudly....so I open the door...she runs back inside to her dish and meows some more...and so and so on...ohhhh this kitty can be a pain in the butt....but when we're sleeping, her purring is a godsend....

You Get up and Go to Work

2006-02-08T23:22:00.000-08:00

No one would have believed, especially myself, that in July 2001...that this was the last time I'd have 'real' job....where you get up in the morning, and routinely take a shower and get ready to go to work each day. It is something millions of people do each day....
But not me...No, I have been out of the game for nearly five years...I am daily astounded how out-of-the-loop I am...
Think about this now...FIVE YEARS....sure I've done other small jobs since then, but never part of a Permanent Team...I profoundly miss being part of any team, I've been having dreams about my old teammates...at the same time worrying about keeping my own little raft afloat...
You may have read my previous posts, about my life raft, but thanks to real estate prices in California, and my own sense of complacency....well, here I am....
You see, I'm at one of those points again, where everyone must come to a point in their lives when they must confront 'themselves'....and face of their own demons, and to face them down hard in a spiritual sense...
In my complacency, somewhere in there I have a certain measure of hope, and strength, courage and wisdom...but most of all...the love of Friends and Family.
The meaning of life, for me, is that you get up in the morning and you go to work....
Whatever work it may be, you get up and just do it!....

Illustration Friday: Chair

2006-02-04T15:58:00.000-08:00

chair
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Whenever I see one of those fancy massage chairs, I think of how cool it would be to have a comfortable chair that not only massages, but also has lights, music, heaters, air conitioning, and a control panel that switches on anything in the house.

The Night I Sat Next to Neal Schon at the Bar

2006-02-01T23:42:00.000-08:00

journey03
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Back in 1994 or so, I used to hang out in San Rafael, California. There's a little bar there called T&T's...it's a little hole in the wall....
Anyway, one night I went in to have a beer...and a guy came in and sat next to me...I immediately recognized him, it was Neal Schon....an excellent guitar player in bands as early as the 60's, when he was a member of Santana, but more commercially known when he was the lead guitarist of Journey, an incredibly popular band in the 70's and 80's....
Anyway, I was sitting there in a hole-in-the-wall type of place,just having a beer, then this guy comes in and plops down next to me...I looked over and wow!, that's him! I totally recognized him from the live shows and videos, but here he was, a regular guy at a bar.... he WAS a regular...he was pals with the bartender, and he gave him a cassette tape, "Well I'm just shopping it around"
There was a baseball game going on at the time which made me look in his direction, in the direction of the tv.....at the corner of my eye I would see him glance over and realize I was watching the game..not him...It was at this time that I just wanted to lean over say, "hey, are you the guitarist in Journey? I just wanted you to know that I'm a big fan of yours, I think you're a great guitarist, I love your music, not just with Journey, but your solo stuff too" ....
BUT NOOO! At that moment I also thought, okay well maybe he just wants to be left alone, this guy is a 'rock star' and likes to come to this hole-in-the-wall....
But after I left, I realized it wasn't about him...It was about my own shyness...
At that point, and at many points, I consider my own shyness as an affliction...I consider myself pretty socially adroit , I can get along with anyone.....but....
it's the shyness...I hate it...Think of anyone who has ever considered themselves 'shy' and then multiply it by ten....I think that me and Neal would have had a cool conversation....