from the city streets
i leap to look back now with
my head in the clouds

hurdy gurd

he took an orange from the fruit vendor then grabbed the hands of the rag man and the scissor sharpener, and danced a jig to the music of the organ grinder, letting his soul fly far away to join the cast of the carousel...

shameless promotion

my cafe press shop is now open for business. as i am still a newb to the whole process it may take me a little time to get up to speed, but in the interim i have this one offering for any devotees who may want to proudly show their affiliation. more to come in weeks ahead. for now, check us out at http://www.cafepress.com/toastrobot.

my mind drifts to a
sunday windy enterprise
i like flying kites

hidden stuff

i have been observing the morning creatures right outside my door in the early morning hours before i head off to work. somehow in daylight their activity eludes me. it amazes me that we are all more concerned about getting to work than about what lays all around us as we go.

everything in nature contains all the powers of nature. everything is made of one hidden stuff.
- ralph waldo emerson

come ride the machine
that transports you back in time
to stare in your eyes

(photo courtesy ridethemachine)

when you're a kid you don't always understand what's going on. some kids are born older and can't wait to grow up. and some of us knew perfectly well that ignorance was sweet bliss. we like to think that time is linear and that as we move forward we're leaving the past in our wake, but the truth is we're carrying it inside. and as the man says "you may be done with the past, but the past ain't done with you".
i remember me and my brother going to stay with my grandparents for a week or so when i was about 7 or 8 years old. i asked why and their explanation didn't satisfy. so there we were. dropped off at an apartment complex. and i wasn't really sure when i'd see them again. it was summer and i spent the days riding my low rider trike around and around the apartment walking paths. the sun sometimes hitting my eyes like lens flares. my legs reached the red pedals of the trike perfectly. it was the last summer they would. i fell into a trance staring at my feet. watching my brown suede desert boots spin around and around on the pedals. pushing. reaching the limit of speed on my little machine. around and around the apartments i rode. taking information in at high speeds and not being able to process it all.
at night me and my brother slept on a sofa hide-a-bed in the apartment living room. my brother would ask when my parents were coming to get us and my grandmother didn't exactly know. when the lights were out he would sometimes sob a little, his back turned to me. at last they came and we were free. and though we hadn't realized it yet, things were very different. i know why so many kids don't want to grow up. they look into the eyes of all the adults and see so much sadness and abandon. and they fear what is waiting for them.

(photo courtesy bighappyfunhouse)

calendar tells us
no more summer days at lake
we all take the fall

small houses 05

location: church st., murphys, ca
up hwy 49 and through the beautiful gold country into angels camp, then up murphys grade road you will eventually find yourself on beautiful main street in downtown murphys. the town isn't that big and as the saying goes if you blink you may miss it. but miss it you should not. although it appears to have a sleepy facade there is always something going on here.
as a kid i would stop here with my best friend and his family on the way up to their cabin to have an ice cream cone, something i still do with my own family going home from her family's cabin. the town is one of many from the gold rush era that managed to stay alive through the 20th and into the 21st century. and although mark twain and most of the prospectors have departed, there's still gold here.
the little house pictured above is on church street directly behind main. i spotted it one afternoon on one of our ice-cream walks. it's an unassuming dwelling in a humble looking little town. and if you do find yourself driving through the gold country sometime, stop by and check it out and take a step back in time.

endless mosaic

infinitesimally
connecting us all

church in our hearts

take that axis scum...

marvel on the march

at the safeway across the street from my house i spotted these little superheroes in a gumball machine. one of my kids bought the iron man. as they learned to tell which one was coming next by spotting it in the spindle at the bottom of the case, they informed me that captain america was next. having a soft spot in my heart for the star spangled avenger, i kicked down a dollar to add him to the collection. hulk and thor came courtesy of my friend cory who brought them to work. and now all our avengers are assembled.i really like the design of these characters. they remind me a little of the mighty muggs that were around in toy stores the last couple years. although these are a little more reasonable at only a dollar, and their packaging is ingenious as well. the body of each comes inside the two halves of the head. so what comes out of the machine is just a little plastic ball.

as the release of the upcoming avengers film is still over a year away we still have time to remember them as they were. as a kid i think i dreamed of a time like this. when hollywood would really sit up and take notice and do the superhero film treatments seriously. and as they keep rolling off the line i've got to say for the most part they've gotten it right. but as i finished watching "the watchmen" the other day something seemed missing to me. i mean it was a great adaptation i thought, but still something was missing. later as i went back through the original graphic novel i realized what it was.
the central relationship we readers have had to these stories in the past is our imagination fused with the fantastic storytelling and art in these books. in film all of that gets filled in. don't get me wrong, it's great, just different. i guess it's always been like that as books get adapted to film. at least now those doing the adpatations are the very nerds and geeks like me who had that hollywood dream when they were kids too.

the end (of summer) is near...

a vanishing breed
that once filled the roads must now
run with buffalo

A+S Vintage 2010

our local bmw and ducati dealerships hosted their annual vintage bike show this past saturday and many fine examples of vanished marquees were on hand to represent. i've mentioned a+s a couple of times on this blog and i continue to be impressed with the quality events they put on. although the attendance seemed to be down from last year, probably because they chose to hold it on 9-11, there were still many faithful vintage mc fans roaming the grounds.
river city beemers was on hand again to cook up bbq with donations going to the american red cross. there was a swap meet this year and gps training inside the dealership. and actor perry king whom many may remember as "chico tyrell" in "lords of flatbush" was on hand to judge the best in categories and take rider concerns back to the ama, of which he is on the board. overall this continues to be a great event.
and i captured a few of my personal favorites here as nominees for best in show. thanks again a+s.

great looking indian

beautiful mv single cafe racer

ultra rare italian picola 150

custom "rat chopper"

keep an eye out for the classics...

wake to no alarm
i trip a sunday haiku
make my rest in it

night runner

i seen him at the gas station
he’s parked next to the pump
standin’ at the counter with that toothpick danglin’ on his lip

he’s askin’ for the luckies
as he points back to the wall
and he puts his hand inside his jacket to feel that pistol ridin’ on his belt

outside his lady’s pumpin’
she’s got bleached hair and tired eyes
and a heart full of old desires

there’s a birdcage dangling
underneath that rear view mirror
with a tiny blues guitar that’s sittin’ in there

now he’s reachin’ for his piece
he waves it so’s the man can see it
he points the barrel to the drawer and says “go get it”

he taps his stacked heel cowboy boots
against the cold linoleum floor
as that toothpick dances on his smiling lips

the man behind the counter fills the bag
and throws a couple candy bars in too
because he’s told to do

the old lady’s finished now
and her man comes wildly running out
and screamin’ “chupacabra!”

he hops inside and hits the gas
and throws the bag up on her lap
and the two of them are hauling ass and runnin’ with the night

bell rings we slide the
pole and race to climb ladder
which rescues from fire

faces part 04

it's been a while since i shared some faces. so today i thought i would pull a few more out of the ether.
(titles given, but alternates welcome : )

game face

ear bud

fastened securely

"if a face could launch a thousand ships then where am i to go?"

-bread

find your place of peace
and retreat from chaos
to restore your soul

frances

my wife and i had the chance to attend a wedding recently. we hadn't been to a wedding in a while. and as they are one of the last of the vanishing social rituals, we weren't exactly sure how to dress. barbara has this great copy of amy vanderbilt's "book of etiquette" from the 1960's which we love to peruse, and of course it all made so much more sense then. there were rules. you knew the rules. and then, if you chose to flout convention, well, that was your call. but there were still rules. and now it seems we have no rules.
so as we prepared for the wedding barbara said "let's do it up. forget whether or not everybody will be there in cowboy boots and hawaiian shirts. let's dress like we're going to a wedding." and so we did. she in a dress she had just made, and me in my old (but still very fine) sharkskin suit. yes, we were ready to cut a rug as we headed out the door. and the wedding was beautiful. the bride was a queen, and the groom was in love with his bride, you could see it on his face.
and as we walked out of the church i spotted a beautiful little lady in a lemon suit and gloves and asked if i could snap her picture. she grabbed my arm and blushed and turned away. "why?!" she asked. "because you're beautiful" i told her. she relented. i asked her name. she said it was frances. and then we told her our dilemma about whether or not to dress up for a wedding, to which she replied "i always do". well said frances.

invitation by
generous co-worker to
dine at their request

sunday sees the world through a different lens. take time to exit the routine.

sorrow's bowl is filled
to overflowing through the
demonstrative man

please mister postman

when you get down on your knees sometimes the world looks a little different. this little postal van originally had no driver. according to my kids, one of them shoved a little sticker into an opening and it ended up fitting perfectly. now, we have a postal carrier to run the route on our carpet town island. and as he drives, he blows his crazy horn of a scatt-iddy ooo-bop sound so that all the hot wheel residents may know their mail is on its way. personally, i like this concept. around our place there seems to be no set time for the mail delivery, and often i have walked out to the mailbox only to find it empty. maybe the postal carriers should take a page from the ice cream truck playbook and announce their arrival with music.
but what song to play? you don't send me flowers? stealing people's mail? i think there's really only one suitable choice here - "please mr. postman" by the marvelettes. although in my dream world it would still have that jack in the box sound just like the ice cream man. i don't know. i just think it might make the world a little happier. and i think it wouldn't hurt having the mail man wearing a band uniform either. or any uniform for that matter. it seems like recently the whole post office has gone super casual. i see them out delivering mail now in t-shirts and sweatpants. whatever happened to the pith helmets and striped pants? ah well, one thing at a time. i just miss the days when you could tell what somebody did for a living by the clothes they wore. maybe someday again. "deliver dee letter, dee sooner dee better".

mind's eye blocked by fear
and psychological walls
hope and life beyond

ferdinand and andy

circle time. criss-cross applesauce. one two three, eyes on me. one, two... (eyes on you) it's story time. from the columbia children's record collection it's "the story of ferdinand and andy and the lion". a new experience for young listeners, entertaining and educational. for those not familiar with the ferdinand and andy stories, they are tales of accidental heroism or being in the right place at the right time.
ferdinand is a bull who would rather smell the flowers than fight in the ring, but the sting of a bee causes him to act as a mad fighter which catches the attention of the bullfight promoters. except upon being introduced as "ferdinand the fierce" he simply retires to the field to smell the flowers in the ladies' hair. interestingly this story went on to enjoy controversy as some promoted it as a pacifist book and communists claimed it for themselves. it's always funny to me how one man's art becomes another's propaganda.
andy and the lion, based on the classic story of androcles the roman slave who gives aid to an injured lion, by which he is forever befriended. the story is often attributed to aesop, however this version is updated by james daugherty to the present day, or more accurately mid twentieth century america. in this version young andy is told great tales of hunting lions by his uncle and on his way to school he meets a lion who chases him round a tree. once andy stops he notices the lion has a thorn in its paw. but fortunately andy always carries his pliers. sounds like another tool tale for leatherman.
the thing i really enjoy about these old story records is that they were ever done at all. they always seem to start out with an introduction by the narrator who often sounds like the drunken (and possibly closeted) uncle, who then proceeds to launch into the tale interspersed with musical accompaniment which gives him time to sip his scotch. i especially like the narration on the andy and the lion story here by daniel ocko. listen as he pauses from time to time as if looking for his place on the script. beautiful.
if you'd like to sit for a story simply click the link here and enjoy. heads up, seven up!