Flights of Fancy

scratching the hair on my chin ... this photo is from a rest stop in Florida. we stopped (coming in from Alabama), went to the bathroom, and picked up a random assortment of free tourist brochures. i think i got one about a Leather Store in Florida, info on wildlife, info (specifically) on bears ("you are in bear country"), and i try to pick up crazy Christian ones (Jesus monuments, Bible Camps, all that crazy shit). we made it to the rest stop in a downpour of a rain storm. it broke a bit as we parked then it dumped water again as we tried to make it back to our car.

anyways, i was reading an old National Geographic magazine (from 1974 would be my guess) (i could look at the date on the cover but i think we all realize its not that important). in it was a bit on the X-15 rocket-fueled jet airplane. i have never heard of the X-15 (a super cool name for a jet). i have heard of the SR-71. i don't know very much about stealthy Air Force fighter jets but i am convinced that the X-15 is the coolest thing ever.

i may be getting a new (used) car down the road. i will call this car the X-15. i may wear gloves when i drive it. and sunglasses. chew on a cigar. wear a mustache.

Even Great Cats Get Hot and Tired

this past May was very hot. and June is just as hot (hotter?). i have always loved the way cats deal with heat. in extreme situations they will pant - like dogs - but mostly they just stop moving. they lie around (or lay around, whichever you prefer). they don't exert themselves [and why should they?] especially if they are house cats and have no need for hunting. they just sit. take it easy.

of course, that's what a lot of humans do. except with cold beer. i do this. but i also have to wake and go to work (even if there is not much to do at work) (the hours must be punched so they can accumulate money). its only June but its hot. the air-conditioning at work drips water on me from the low ceiling. everybody's grabbing ice outta the ice machine. everybody's drinking something cold [from a bottle, a can, a cup]. after work its hard to pass up the cold beer.

its really hard to do anything. probably best to just follow the cat [this time].

Tumbling Downward

i'll milk it for all its worth (something about that sentiment seems so American to me). "milk it" as in polishing off a white russian (should that be capitalized?). vodka, kahlua, cream. or rather, half and half but as smooth and almost as rich as cream. a good drink but i'm left dry and itchy in the New Orleans spring. the pollen hits and it hits hard. allergies like sickness.

Built to Spill plays from the stereo and cooked rice sits on top of the stove. chopped vegetables and tofu also sit but, unlike the rice, wait to be cooked. its nearing 7PM and i think whom in the world could care about these words - and the likelihood that these words never will be read also fills me with a fear. not fear. more like a dulled dreadful panic. that may not make sense but when one realizes that the majority of what they do is either totally unimportant or WAY too important to others ... it all just seems out of whack. eh, maybe it is and maybe it isn't, certainly i do not know. but the vegetables do wait to be cooked. they have been chopped and now have no other purpose but to be sustenance to humans. either that or sustenance to little bugs as they rot uncooked. another drink will be made by me and i will watch actors on television.

i'm sure a lot of other people will be watching actors on television tonight. perhaps, they are watching right now. probably.

Hunger in the Sun

it is a beautiful day in New Orleans (a spring day) (NOTE: the photo is of another day in New Orleans) (not this day) (a day some months back) (at dusk) (now it is 3 hours past noon and bright and sunny and not yet New Orleans hot). we had a thunderstorm in the early hours of morning. some wet still clings to the street (or it did earlier, it may not now although i am sure its still wet in the shade and potholes, those never seem to dry out in New Orleans). the plants will soon start to consume the sunlight and growing heat (as they are already as i type). soon the city will be covered in plant growth ... more than it is now. it will be everywhere.

welcome night of the sun (and on and on and on)

simple post (brain not quite up to normally functioning) throw-away post ... something about vampires ... bright and sunny now ... the dark heart lies elsewhere ... when in doubt, keep it short

in the middle of the night (we drink rum)

we drive

let the radio play (something AM and from Central Texas circa 1940s, a hard and dirty type acoustic guitar sounding more like its being beaten than strummed).

the singer on the radio wails out the lyrics. one can imagine that after he sang his song he had another drink and headed to bed

up early for work the next day

(the mines wait, the mines always wait).

we continue to drive

we will need to sleep and eventually: pay bills, see the dentist, upload the iPod, wait for the cable man, buy a new cell phone battery.

for now we listen to this random wailing old song on this old car radio.

it sounds like bones and dust.