this is all my mother's fault, really. she belonged to a book club when i was a kid, and ended up buy crap like noguchi's coroner and hollywood babylon (the write-up on fatty arbuckle was especially ... enlightening), and of course i read and absorbed everything that came into the house. and she forced me to watch gordon macrae and hitchcock films until i fell in love with jimmy stewart. hell, i don't even know what tyrone power's in...i just remember staring at his grave in that book for hours. sha-sha.

forest lawn cemetery in glendale. ronald reagan married ms. falcon crest at the wee kirk o the heather.

clara bow

larry fine and chico marx

walt disney and his mermaid

spencer tracy and errol flynn (both scoundrels in their own right). all i could think was, 'katharine hepburn stood here once.'

go figure.

the archer pointing toward jimmy stewart's grave. you approach him, face him, and turn, stepping forward six rows.

jimmy stewart

the garden of remembrance. and of course you face me with a locked door, but seven-foot walls that i can scale. and you tell me that jean harlow, mary pickford, and humphrey bogart are on the other side of those walls. and you tell me i don't have the golden key. i'm a good climber.

sammy davis, jr.'s somewhere in there, too.

mary pickford

humphrey bogart

the view from the other side of the great golden wall.

from louis l'amour's curbside view.

the yellow brick road.

l. frank baum

l. frank baum's brood

great blue herons on eagle creek

the chipmunk/squirrel/rodent thing got cut out, thanks to stunning photography work

a barrel of laughs

we used to be able to smack these with our flipflops from the paratroopers, before losing them

condiment udders. 'nuff said.

the best fudge ... ever

the sick-looking seagull doesn't do it justice (see video below). or maybe it does.

pretty. outside of the alamo, where my grandmother used to eat while she let us roam the park.

my mom and sister crammed into the train.

view from above (from the three-dollar-a-pop ski-lift).

the mini-coaster. still there after thirty-years.

a final ride before hitting the ice cream stand.

GOOD east race v-wave kayaker:

BAD east race v-wave kayker:

special thanks to monica for being such a good rescuer.

last weekend was spent getting thrashed around rocks on the wolf, red, and peshtigo rivers in northern wisconsin on the menominee reservation. still carrying the battle scars. the little kids i'm tutoring think i'm a freak.

the more than interesting eight-hour jaunt north. mars cheese castle. home of the cheese curd. first time i've ever had a cheese curd.

the local ferocious wildlife stalking our campsite.

ken jordan helping me right my boat at boyscout rapids on section three of the wolf river. notice the rocks. water level was quite below comfortable height, which meant much more technical kayaking. as shown, i am not a technical kayaker (yet).

how i spent most of the weekend. looking fashionable walking up from gilmore's mistake on section three of the wolf river. maybe you'll see me go down it in one piece, backpaddling all the way, like i used to do on my bike:

monastery falls on the red river. this was the tame spot where we entered. just before is a large and powerful hydraulic (i was told class iv, but looked a lot worse than that to me).

the base of the falls right below the monastery. i made it down the falls okay, and then bailed as soon as i hit the tongue (or the side of it). i didn't follow my water line and gunnel-grabbed. the whole thing is on video and very ugly. a good laughing point for the entire hoosier canoe club.

again, having bailed on the peshtigo. poor sharon and barry helping me this time. i had to be rescued off a rock with a rope. incredibly embarrassing. i flipped at least a half-dozen times on this river, the final time smacking my head (and ass) on a bunch of rocks. i look jaundiced with all of the dying bruises. i begged to go on the river the day before, wanting to stick with the pack and learn more. they tried to steer me away from it. i was adamant. and i ended up adding an extra hour on to the trip. at least. but i made it down without an issue, thanks to mitch's guidance:

the most embarrassing part was losing a loaned paddle when i flipped over some rocks (no chance for t-rescue in this water). the next morning at breakfast, one of the kayakers laughed, telling another how a paddle was lost on the peshtigo the day before. the other one goes, "how can you lose a paddle on the pesh?" i hid under my scrambled egg burrito and went to mop up some more of my blood.

must ... learn... to ...read...the ....water. and must learn to stay upight.

so, we made the decision, with as little experience as we have, to run the great miami river (outside of cinci, oh) with the hoosier canoe club. i thought i should do some practice the night before, so i passed dana my camera, and ken hauled me out to practice some rolls (i hit one out of twenty. ahem.).

paddling out

rolling incorrectly. trying to pull my head up while it should be down. flopping my arms all over the place. trying not to beat ken with the paddle.

some more of dana's shots

i decided to paddle the mile out to the bridge while they drove around to meet me (and subsequently got reamed for trespassing). the trip was gorgeous. trout jumping for insects (there were millions of them...i'm still flossing them out) and swallows swooping from hollows in cliffs.

suiting up and shuttling at the great miami

wefler: the aswer is venus

here are some shots from my roof.

i ended up with a new boat, as the cd whistler was only a transitional (recreation/touring) boat, and the squall is full-fledged long trip backpacking touring (and got it on a deal from mountain man outdoors supply in ny for four-hundred bucks cheaper than the 2007 whistler--thus, ken got one, too). a special thanks to poor dana, who stood outside in the rain on wednesday night and helped us tie them to the top of the truck.

of course, i wanted to try it out. so i packed up my stuff and headed out to an aca sponsored whitewater beginners course on a fork of wildcat creek. and, of course, my 16.5' boat was too big. my kind instructor loaned me hers. i felt like odysseus trying to string my skirt around the hull (it was a bit small, and i think everyone pitched in to help me fasten it at least once).

needless to say, the boats were MUCH smaller than what i was used to. you esentially sit cross-legged inside. using the boat is much more about body control than simple paddling, as my sea kayak entails. i spilled more than anyone else there. sharon, jordan, terry, ken, and earl had the patience of saints.

adams mill, indiana (john, not sam)

another yaker kindly donated a pair of leprechaun pants to me (which i thoroughly sullied on the first leg with my wet exit training--which saved my ass repeatedly for the rest of the day), while my instructor loaned me a dry top (i've got rubber burns on my neck). everyone was very kind, especially ande, who took pity on me whenever i bailed. and i bailed a lot.

me, getting sucked downstream after bailing about five times. i hit a log, i bailed. i turned the wrong way, i bailed. i missed the eddy turn, i bailed. i inhaled, i bailed.

reaching a calm spot where i could stop the boat from doing its own thing.

eat at the sanitary cafe in rossville, in! clean as a whistle!

a much needed 32oz ipa afterward (for ken's birthday).

ken couldn't wait to give me my birthday present tonight. he had it out on the porch.

a fourteen-foot kayak, replete with rudder and two storage compartments.

i've wanted one for almost ten years.

i decided to give him his gift early--a few rows from the stage to see rush in indy in august (and a cdr-ful of dropkick murphys).

the driveway

the house

the fearless warrior (mindless of the fact that i did that whole stretch behind him)

the spectators

later...at the dog park

i took my panel on tourism in south africa to the 2006 usaclals conference at santa clara university in santa clara, california, two weekends ago. the campus was lovely, and we had a nice audience.

the mission church

Ngugi wa Thiong'o, UC Irvine, and Pradyumna S. Chauhan, Arcadia University

i got my togos and ken got his...bevmo...

after the academic rigors, it was into san fran and dinner at the stinking rose and a walk around afterward

the bay bridge from coit tower

pier 39 regulars

saturday included a drive down the 1, with a pitstop at pigeon point

and onto pt. ano nuevo, at which i failed to spend enough time when i lived in pacifica

above the elephant seals

a jaunt down the dune

female elephant seals sunning (i have an hour's worth of video)

the kelp and seaweed drew the flies, which were thwarted by flying sand (relieving an itch)

the scarring/body marking was interesting. nothing hinted at a scrape with a white.

the point

point ano nuevo island, locus for much filming on whites

glub glub glub

later that night on santa cruz pier

did i really take this?? nooo. not me.

billie holiday couldn't have sang it better herself (back in your own backyard, that is). somehow, lucy kaplansky ended up three blocks from my house tonight and played a gorgeous set (including a powerful "ring of fire," which she claims is on the upcoming album). the show was put on by friends of bob, in a small hall on our side of the river (the setup reminded me of an elementary school talent show--that's the amazing thing about seeing shows at here, as rarely as they come, vs. on the east coast--it's the most damned intimate thing in the world. two weeks ago, it was dan bern in a locker room; this week, lucy kaplansky at schnecksville elementary gym/cafeteria).

rachel davis was the opening act--a set of pipes like i've never heard.

lucy played a bunch of songs from her new album and slapped out a few tunes on the piano, too.

there was a nice duet at the end.

thanking her for playing "the kid" for me, and letting me tape it, so i'm in la-la land)

--at least i didn't ask her to sign my hoagie.

dan bern's one stop in indiana was at earlham college, a small liberal school out on the eastern border in richmond (last time he avoided us altogether). actually, it was in a small room in earlham college with high school gym cinderblock walls and a high school gym clock. we got there around seven, thinking the show started at eight, and the place was empty. just some old chorus risers stacked against one cinderblock wall. one student told us to come back at ten.

the restaurant situation in richmond is even bleaker than in lafayette. when i asked if there were any mom-and-pop joints, one student said there was a pizza king. i said thanks. the entire campus atmosphere was like purdue's hyper-alter-reality - scattered hippies, no cars, and a library open on a saturday night. so we came back at nine after eating some bad boca burgers at a place called 'garfield's,' and we smuggled in some killians and grabbed one of the five or so tables in the room.

dan's sitting in the corner, looking smaller than usual, and i had to do a doubletake to be sure it was him. his hobble to the stage made me triple. turns out he tore a calf muscle during an earlier tennis bout with the opening act (the courts had been locked, and they had to shimmy the fence--the baseball diamonds have smaller fences, dan. but, yes, still locked).

the 'soundcheck.'

the show.

after reviewing my videos of the show, it seems i yelled out "FAULKNER!" after a song he sang concerning necrophilia. he said, "what?" and i said, "that was very faulknerian!" and he said, "probably in style more than content," and i was too off-kilter to argue. i'm such a moron.

i tried to hold him to his promise that he'd made two years ago, offering "closer to you" and "superman" at my whim, and when i made my requests, and reminded him of his email, he said, "and you believed me?" heh. anyway, he tried to play both, and the lyrics escaped him, but i was happy. it was a great show. his new shit is as impressive as always, always experimenting with different, aged sounds. plus, it was neat hearing him with the band.

after the show, i stumbled up to him and thanked him for coming to (insert expletive) indiana, and he said, "it's just different." i said, "no, it's (insert expletive)." and he repeated, "it's just different." but he doesn't have to live here, where claiming you are a vegetarian labels you an agricultural terrorist. ken gave him directions to a health food store, but didn't guarantee they'd be open (all but the corps were closed by 7pm).

thanks for all of your help, miki, and for getting us there.

http://danbern.com

last friday was spent with dana and karen at the, dare i say it, mall. and dare i say i thoroughly enjoyed it (granting my hatred for malls). karen's moving to chicago tomorrow, and i'm posting these in celebration of someone escaping indiana. bully for you, karen.

karen, dana, and i at the old spaghetti factory in indy. not-so-hot food, not-so-hot service. very cool purple chair.

what i got to look at most of the day. and i didn't even make them go into game stop. sheesh.

i like, but can't find for less than $100. any starving artists out there? you can stay in my spare room.

celebrating a pepsi at uno's (probably the only restaurant with pepsi in indiana). i should have gotten a shot of our waitress. incredible lady.

thanks for two great years, karen. we'll miss ya. here's to many future desks by many future sunny windows.

liz phair singing 'glory': will probably take a minute or two to download. i also have a clip of her impromptu 'son of a preacher man,' but dusty she is not.

shots from last year's show at the black orchid and a clip of 'strange loop.'

esther the zombie dog does not like fireworks.

hissssssssssssssss! (yeah, i'm still seven years old, ok?)

a pair of blue balls (does that make me eight?)

beowulf doesn't like smokebombs.

the taste of chicago 2006. replete with signer. from the star-spangled banner, through the two opening acts, and yes, even through 'fuck and run.'

one of the only times you will ever catch me drinking...budweiser.

the hot guy in front of us.

 the 'stacy's/staci's/stacie's mom' band. the budweisers, i'm sorry to say, pulled me through.

world party. they kept saying that they were playing their oldies. wtf are they??

the raffi concert. almost completely recent material. all of that ga-ga 'why can't i' fandom. gah. but it was free, so i'm not allowed to bitch, right?

spending five minutes talking about staying with her parents.

i DID get to hear 'glory,' which was nice. if you want a video of it, email me.

chopsticks, too (but ben folds played that for me five years ago).

it took us an hour to get out.

love and marriage...