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OVERHEARD in SF
A peculiar phrase, “kill your tv” meant “upgrade to flatscreen” in 21st-century America.
(via cellphone camera!)
The ease of mystery is astounding.
Sticks & Stones
The fire alarm in the bedroom begins chirping after a morning shower. Funny that water vapor hits the very same spots as fire vapor, seeing as the two are such opposing elements. Anyway. I put down the coffee cup. I grab a hand towel on my way through the kitchen & use it to fan the nervous device - the alarm saying ‘hey I’m about to freak out man’ - until an acceptable level of peace is restored.
A few minutes later, I’m back in the living room w/the coffee when I hear the chirping return. Do you see where this is going? No, you do not.
Again, I put down the cup. Again, I grab the towel. Maybe I’m a cursing a bit more but, again, I fan the air while waiting for resolution. It doesn’t come. It doesn’t come because this time the fire alarm isn’t making a sound. “Chirp.” Startled, I trace the sound out the sliding glass doors to the fire escape, & a leafy stand of branches just beyond. There, looking hopeful & proud, I find the source: a small brown bird.
“Chirp.”
“Copycat,” I say. Then I notice the beautiful sky… thin clouds & early sun, where there lately had been many storms. In another room, my coffee gets cold. I’m late for work.
On Care:
Sometimes to win the argument is to lose the battle. This occurs to me. Lose enough battles & you lose the war. If you lose that, you’ve lost everything.
Mr. Eastwood has us lit up like a football game… serious floodlights directly in the window.
Under This Umbrella
It’s a persistently stormy January out there. I’ve been sick for almost two weeks, shrugging off one cough syrup-soaked day for another. This morning my neighborhood was suddenly thick w/movie trailers - equipment trailers, food trailers, wardrobe trailers, star trailers, la lala la la. This shit is bananas… feels very cinéma vérité to exist w/in! The flick is called Hereafter, directed by Clint Eastwood & starring Matt Damon. I play the spaced-out, under-dressed kid w/the coughing fit.
OVERHEARD in SF
1982 - Quality time w/my father.
Eating An Orange Incorrectly
If time reversed, sunsets would sunrise & sunrise would set,
& we’d wake up so tired, we’d fall asleep full of rest.
But still there’d be dark, there’d be light. Thunder, then lightning.
& room after room of such waiting…
Parable For The Bored
I recall the child… the way he ripped open wrapping paper to get at a present,
while I ripped the rind off a Clementine to get at a fruit. & you said,
”time is a death sentence for such wonder… I am proof,”
the way we hold out a pretense to get past the truth.
![Playing DeadWhen the Earth finally enfolds you, pull the white blanket over & sleep. [ + ]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kvysll7vlb1qz7avgo1_500.jpg)
Playing Dead
When the Earth finally enfolds you, pull the white blanket over & sleep. [ + ]
EARTHQUAKE, CALIFORNIA (1.7.2010)
The small or far-off earthquakes come on like windwaves at a dock on the lake… the shake is more of a numb drumming at the heel, a vibration felt first in the cobweb wheels of awareness & noted only in the melodies of reflection.
Go Anyway
I’d already survived the arc of the large jetliner we took from San Francisco to Minneapolis for the holidays when my father offered to take Matea & me up into the dreamclouds above my hometown in the small propeller plane he pilots for a living. It’s no secret that I hate flying. No, that’s not quite right. I enjoy flying, but I suffer… my brain explodes in cascading thoughts of flimsy air pressure, vast spaces of sky & the complete loss of control. Furthermore, a distaste for cannonballing through the day in a mechanical cigar w/pasted butterfly wings seems utterly rational to me. But! I went anyway. “Go anyway” - that’s my advice on this life.
So while mother earth batted her breath at us some thousand feet above the frozen lakes & forests of Minnesota, my father handed the controls over to Matea (I was stuffed into the backseat, by the way, like a dirty handkerchief in the pocket). Lucky for us, Matea is a natural-born pilot. She has only an expired drivers license back on the ground, but she can push a small plane through a turn while my father (a natural-born professional pilot) points out tree plantations & flood zones. I was shaking in my shoes when taking this photograph.
![A world away from California for Christmas. [ + ]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kvwxqx4pFE1qz7avgo1_500.jpg)
