taking time to make some homemade pizza to round up the weekend. pizza and a movie. mmm. thatsa' one big pizza pie!

lost dolls 003

some time ago i was downtown at one of my favorite local thrifts, walking without hurry through each aisle filled with so much unwanted tchotchke looking for some hidden treasure when i spotted this little kewpie. she was just sitting there on the shelf between some paperback books and salt and pepper shakers. i grabbed her and brought her home for my bride.
she looked at it with askance and then asked "what am i supposed to do with that?" dismayed, i answered "it's a kewpie. you set it on a shelf and look at it." "huh. i don't want any more junk in the house." "junk! junk? it's a kewpie. you know, like from old timey, like you're my girl and i took you out to the fair or carnival. we walked along the midway until we came to this little booth. i picked up a baseball, 3 for a dollar and knocked the milk bottles over and this is what they gave me. and i gave it to you."


"yeah, but you didn't do any of that." "that's not the point. it's what it represents. it's a kewpie." well the little doll sat on her dresser for a day or two and then it mysteriously disappeared. so mysteriously i hadn't noticed it. and then, just the other day while in the garage i was moving some stuff and there in a metal tray with a lot of my other crappola was this poor little lost doll. i thought i had saved her from the fate of the local thrift, and instead she has been consigned to the dark realms of storage. don't that beat all?

though you are now gone
your deeds not forgotten are
living memories

the toastwalk

just taking the toastrobot out for a little walk today...
(still a work in progress)

i reach out to you
to shake hands in the darkness
unsure if we met

do you believe in the force?

after many weeks of wondering if anybody out there reads this thing, i finally got a comment yesterday on my star wars card giveaway. congratulations to xyloteka for bringing the love. and as promised a handful of vintage 1977 mixed batch star wars trading cards are on their way slowboat to you my friend! apparently there's at least one true believer out there.

falling back again
into familiar rhythms
play us to the beat

nature calling

i stepped outside my door yesterday when my son spotted this praying mantis. he had gotten hold of a grasshopper and was slowly eating his insides. we all got down on our knees and stared at the horror. beautiful. we could hear the crunching sounds and watched as the teeth sawed through the hard outer shell of the grasshopper. occasionally a leg would twitch. i was fascinated at the efficiency of the mantis and at how undisturbed it was by our presence. they really seem to be zen like sometimes. their attitude of prayer calling me to meditation.


and then i remembered that i had seen some glorious fall foliage all around the property earlier and went on a little photo expedition to try and record some of this fantastic transitional beauty.

although it is california, and many of these trees are not native, i'm thankful for these transplants that dot my local landscape like little wildfires this time of year.

and it is so great to have all of these reminders so vividly shouting out that the change is coming again.

an endless maze of
freeways running back and forth
through the world we made

greetings programs

in anticipation of the new tron film, i re-visited the first tron last night. it's really hard to wrap your head around it now, because in so many ways we are all living more and more "inside the machine" these days, but there was a time not that long ago when the barriers between the two worlds were a lot more distinct. i would think for most people now looking back at this film it would seem ancient, crude visually and quite simple. but as i worked my way through the exhaustive supplemental features disc, i was completely awed by the monumental process by which it came about. and in fact in that regard i think it ranks as a one of a kind film which will never be duplicated at that scale. marrying the techniques up to that time of computer technology and traditional film-making, each frame has been laboriously produced.
but aside from the technology and design of this film, i think it's the metaphysical aspect of it that interests me the most these days. director steven lisberger made a comment in one of the interviews, talking about how much of who we are is in computers. that in a sense all of this information is our essence in this digital world. and that really became the basis for the story in this film. and even as i type this i am aware that i am adding to my own meager representation of myself in this world. that i am a "user" and these words in this font on this screen of pre-selected turnkey design are some vague attempt at representing me on this matrix. and then i think of all the masses who now have capabilities to do this very same thing. we no longer have to be "programmers" like high priests in this world. we all have access to the same technology.
and this i think really begins to poke at the larger question. the question of quality that robert pirsig wrestled with in his epic tome. as one of the producers pointed out in an interview, although we all have access now to word processors all of us are not shakespeares. looking back at the 1982 world in tron from both the outside and inside was a nice nostalgic feeling. and as journey sang about "solutions" through the end credits i couldn't help feeling that all of the 80's optimism was lost on me. that although we have created technologies that have brought us closer together, in reality i've never felt more isolated.
maybe it's my inability to adapt as well as the kevin flynn character did in the film. when zapped by the mcp and scanned into the world of the computer, although he has an adjustment period, he quickly learns his way inside this new world. guess i still haven't got it figured out yet.

i left my heart in san francisco

wow. i'm still reeling from all of the excitement of last night's victory. i've just been in a daze. and even a little denial. i guess this is a little what red-sox fans felt like. i'd been waiting a long time to be able to say "the giants are major league baseball's world champions!" and to echo the sentiment of a sign i saw in the small crowd of giant faithful last night, "the torture is over".
and i guess it's hard for me to believe that this is the year. when i think back over the long list of greats to play for this team, mays, mc covey, cepeda, alou, marichial, clark, mitchell, thompson, williams, krukow, kent, nen, beck, schmidt, and bonds just as a sampling, i'm still dumbfounded that these are my guys. guys like freddy sanchez, aubrey huff and edgar rentereia. to be certain though, it was our pitching that won this thing. linncecum, cain, sanchez, bumgarner and the bullpen including brian wilson's magnificent beard which deserves its own spot in the rotation.
although i wasn't around in 62 for that special brand of torture, i can still clearly remember the unusually warm weather in 89 as i sat listening to will clark make the final out against the cubs to win the pennant and send the giants to the world series that year in a bay area exclusive. and of course it seemed as if God Himself intervened in that game 3 to give the a's a chance to reset their 1-2 starters. in 02 it seemed as if they were marching to destiny's tune again, only to have their hopes ripped out on that field in anaheim while the stupid rally monkey danced and mocked us.
and then, this year. what the heck? although i believed they would win the west, i honestly had no expectations they would go any further. and yet as each game passed, and we moved higher up the mountain together i began to believe that it was possible. not certain but possible. and what a wonderful door that opens up, the possible.
and now it is all over. and i think back now to all those games in the past. all the good times and the bad ones too. all of the conversations on barstools and buses and bart trains. all the speculation. the hopes. and the despair. i have been to the heights and the depths with this team. and though there is always a little sadness to me at the passing of the baseball season, this year there will be no bitter dregs to suck on all winter long. only a long lasting warm feeling in our bellies as we sit by the fire and count the days until spring is here again.

and now we straddle
the harried horse of monday
wails to ride our song

boo!

so many kids out tonight all looking for the same thing. a little sugar fix. i can still remember being a kid and trying to figure it all out. "people give you candy for just knocking on the door?" i was a pretty shy kid and if i close my eyes i can still see out through the eyeholes of my paper ultraman mask with flame retardant jumpsuit. "now who are you supposed to be?" i heard over and over again that night. "i'm japanese superstar ultraman!" i wanted to shout, but mostly said nothing. the smell of my own breath and the sound of heavy breathing inside the mask. i kept looking down at my feet to see where i was going. as we came down the last street around the corner from my house a pickup truck with high school kids in the back pulled up and they all jumped out. "run!!!" some kid yelled. my brother and i booked across the last two lawns, ran up our steps and locked ourselves inside. safe for another year.

you see the stars then
look down and count all your toes
to find your way home

is it time to start believing yet...?

the protection of
these thin walls between the world
my tabernacle

small houses 06

location: home
when you're a kid there's nothing quite as fun as getting up on a weekend long before your parents wake, sneaking out to the living room with every sheet, blanket and pillow you can find and then building yourself a fort. it is something within us. a desire for shelter, even when already inside one. a distant connection to a time in the wilderness. to raise up and take down your tent. and inside our makeshift dwellings we would then feast on sugar cereal and entertain our guests to the wonderment of the saturday morning cartoon lineup.
and when you grow up, that feeling and desire don't go away. we make success out of the places we live in. and in reality we all came from one place. part of that cozy sense we get inside the fort transports us back to the safety of the womb, though we are closer now to the tomb. and the only thing that makes all of this even better is when the rain is pouring outside as it was this past weekend. the shelter. the reason.

all signs point to the
future successes of all
your new endeavors

a weekend of rain, games indoors, the giants win the pennant!, carving pumpkins, and more games. movies. and now the sun comes to dry up all our weekend memories and reminds us it is monday once more...

intently watching
the color of river rocks
change in autumn storm

a balanced part of this complete breakfast

saturday morning. the eternal kid in me wakes up with hopes for the weekend measured out in careful optimism. the cartoon cavalcade underway, bowls and spoons clink together as milk is slurped. and i am reminded of what edie brickell and her new bohemians once said, "philosophy is the talk on a cereal box"
quaker recently re-introduced these great cereal boxes from the 1960's. they feature the early characters and look that capn' crunch had at that time - the crew of alfie, brunhilde, carlyle, dave and sea dog. and of course the characters they met along the way in their adventures on board the good ship "guppy". crunch beast, smedley, and the dastardly pirate jean la foote, who of course was always plotting to pillage the guppy and steal the crunch berries.
all of these characters and ideas came out of the jay ward studios. they also brought us rocky and bullwinkle, george of the jungle, tom slick and superchicken. what a better fit for the design of a cereal box. you could catch the adventures of rocky and bullwinkle on a saturday morning while gazing back to these packages. and these reproductions also feature two trading cards with a character and bio on each.
general mills recently did this same thing with the trix boxes and i have to say i'm really enjoying these re-releases. the simple graphics and wonderful characters for me have opened again that door to the past where a world of imagination awaited. floating on the guppy with the capn', i too can now re-take my place at my station awaiting the capn's orders on the high seas of adventure cereals.

the space between us
this makes all the difference
in seeing ourselves

pioneer boots

my 4th grade teacher was a man named mr. sobaje. (pronounced so-bah-jee) he was a wonderful teacher who made every effort to make all of us kids feel important and accepted. i remember his hands were always covered with chalk dust as he rarely used an eraser. he wore a casual suit each day with suede hush-puppies. we often sang in his class as he strummed the auto-harp, and he loved to tell us stories.
one i remember particularly well was about a poor boy in a turn of the century schoolhouse who after showing up barefoot was told he could not attend again without shoes. because he was so poor, his family could not afford to buy him a new pair of shoes, and as he was the only boy in a family of girls, he was forced to wear an old pair of ladies style lace up boots to school the following day despite his protests. though he tearfully begged his parents to let him stay at home rather than face the humiliation of his peers, they would not relent, believing his education to be more important than ridicule. the following day as he walked to the one room schoolhouse with his sisters, kicking the dirt as he went to hide his shame, he arrived and quickly took his place at his desk sliding his feet as far back under his seat as he could and waited in hopes no one would notice his lady style shoes.
as the other students filled their seats and the teacher arrived, he began to walk around the classroom, as was his custom while he taught. as he passed the poor boy he noticed the shoes even as the boy tried ever harder to slide them under his seat. the teacher continued to walk around the classroom, and then stopped and looked directly at the boy, and then at his shoes, and then said "is that what i think it is? are those...? yes, look everybody. look at johnny's shoes." the boy's heart raced as he braced himself for the shame. "those are real pioneer boots." the teacher continued, "why i haven't seen a pair of those in quite some time. those are the kind of boots real pioneers used to wear as they forged their way westward. yes sir, real pioneer boots."
at these remarks all of the children in the classroom suddenly became very curious and interested in little johnny's shoes and at recess they all begged to take turns trying them on.
of course the moral of the story here is twofold. the first, make every effort to reduce ridicule and humiliation for others, and the second, we can always see something from a new perspective. that's a long and roundabout way of me getting to this. while riding my wife's step-through bike the other day a guy called out to me. i stopped and headed back to his garage. "do you know what that is?" he asked. "do you know what you've got there?" "uh...?" i slowly replied. "you probably thought that was a girl's bike, didn't you?" he said. "yes?" "that's a mixte. (mix-tee) it's a french design. they're rare" he went on to tell me. and as he opened up his encyclopedic knowledge on the merits of the mixte, even showing me his own example amongst a half dozen or more vintage bicycles, i just stood there smiling, not sure if the whole thing was a put on or not.
later at home i did some research on the mixte and discovered everything the old guy had told me was true. there are whole legions of folks dedicated to finding, restoring and riding these odd little hybrids. if you don't believe me, check 'em out here. and as i ride around town now, i must say i don't feel quite as self-conscious wearing my very own pair of "pioneer boots".

a head full of fire
in my belly many seeds
of desire to grow

the great pumpkins

grandma and grandpa came by yesterday and took us all out to the pumpkin patch. it's apparently become an annual event and the kids really look forward to it, as the season begins to turn. since it had rained over the weekend, i wasn't sure if our little quest for the orange squash would end up a muddied affair, but it turned out to be a perfect day of stubborn indian summer sunshine.
the folks over at the patch seem to have it all figured out too. come in and park for free on weekdays, but come saturday and sunday it's 10 bucks a carload. throw in all the little rides and activities, and it adds up. but hey, it's for the kids, right?

but the most fascinating part of the whole trip for me was watching the apple cider production. before my very eyes and within a matter of minutes i watched as apples came in from the field, were loaded on to a sorting and cleaning machine, carried up a conveyor belt into a machine that turned them to mush and then pressed all of the juice into a bucket which was then sucked out by a hose into a beautiful stainless holding tank where workers than tapped it straight into gallon jugs. reminded me of the old films mr. rogers used to show us.
and of course we loaded onto the hay wagon and made our trip into the wilds of the back 40 to find our jeweled gourds. each one a prize. and after all their effort lugging these things back to the car (can't have it if you can't carry it) we made the car trip home together and then as my littlest guy pulled his out of the car it dropped on the sidewalk with a painful thud spilling some of its guts out.

the hands on the clock
point our way to the beginning
of new journeys

and now sunday. and as the threat of rain approaches, why not grab a blanket and that unfinished book, and curl up in your favorite chair to wait it out?

don't give in to hate
as you let go your conscious
mind and blow things up

star wars lives!

one film has influenced more people in my generation than any other, even if some of us would not care to admit it. for those of us who remember the spring and summer of '77, it would forever mark us. and it still continues to leave its mark as evidenced here. one of my best friends talks about the day he went to see star wars with his parents and his little brother and describes it as a point of division in his history like bc and ad.

and in a time before multi-plex theaters and bootleg internet downloads, the opening of a blockbuster movie still meant something. waiting on line for hours with other enthusiasts was common, and the badge of honor for any kid at my school was the number of times they had seen it. every kid birthday that summer seemed to involve a trip to the movie theater as the eyes and ears continued to pick up new details.

and on the playgrounds, wooden climbing structures became death stars and parallel sets of monkey bars served as imperial star destroyers and rebel blockade runners. every girl in my class wanted to be princess leia at recess, and every guy han solo or luke skywalker. when recess ended we continued by drawing endless death star battles at our desks while the teachers worked to free us from this "distraction".

and everywhere we looked was the evidence that this wasn't just a passing fad, but a growing phenomenon. it was on on the lunchboxes we carried from home to school and back. it was on our clothing and covering the walls of our bedrooms. it was our play through countless toys and collectibles and it seemed to burrow deeper into our very sub-conscience so that it even entered our dreams at night. and still, we wanted more.
and in between drawing tie-fighters and x-wings we also collected and traded these cards. i found a box of these today in my garage and a flood of memories hit me. i can still remember that excited feeling heading up to the 7 hills market to see if they had the new shipment, and then opening the package and taking out the obligatory flat sheet of bubble-gum, popping in it in my mouth and then quickly thumbing through the stack of cards to see if i could now fill some of the gaps of missing numbers. these went on for a while through different series of colored decks, and though my collection is sadly lacking in comparison to what i remember my friends having, i would like to share a few with one of you. so, if you would like your very own pack of pre-chosen star wars trading cards, simply be the first to leave a comment, on this post and i'll get them out to you. and may the force be with you!

being glad in all
these moments as they shape us
become memories

the model of all
our own insecurities
made of many parts

(image courtesy of frankensteinia)

franken-brick

our latest trip to the lego store was something of a marathon session as i mentioned in an earlier post. and if you had to justify these by the number of individual bricks they gave out each time your minute for brick ratio might just seem a little disappointing. but hey, you can't quantify the love of the brick. and for my guys the loyalty runs deep.
this month's model featured the empathetic frankenstein monster. of all the classic movie monsters he is my favorite. and certainly i can not think of a finer analogy than lego as i watched scores of young dr. frankensteins stand in line, and then welcomed into the lab, begin assembling their promethean creations. their assistants, the staff of the lego store handing each mad scientist their bucket of body parts. the spark of life, each child's imagination. and as we walked out with a small army of monsters in our little hands, i considered the many others loosed throughout the area. silently sitting on shelves or broken apart only to be put back together as part of another creation, it is not for me to question. it is the will of the creator.

we fill up with grief
take our troubles to this place
then empty our souls

just sitting around today in my favorite chair spending time with some old friends...

feel the wind blow from
the roar of twelve cylinders
as you ride the beast