tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-182303172024-03-07T02:16:47.728-07:00Downtown PHX PicsSeeking the sublime in asphaltAdamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.comBlogger924125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-82047720765431029962022-10-15T05:11:00.002-07:002022-10-19T12:54:43.545-07:00Bill Pullman<p>Woke up at 2 a.m. to the buzz of a chainsaw somewhere outside my window. </p><p>"The fan?" I posited, and tried to drift off, but no, there it was again, the angry metallic whine. </p><p>Got up in my sweats, put on shoes and a baseball cap (to cover my disheveled hair*) and went outside to circumnavigate the complex, hoping to outflank any potential madmen. </p><p>By the pool, I saw a guy - also in sweats - walking toward me.</p><p>I gesture, palms up, "what the hell?" </p><p>"They're trimming the trees," he said.</p><p>"At 2 am? Here?!"</p><p>"Across the street," he pointed. </p><p>We walked over, and there they were, 3 big trucks w/cherry pickers, lights flashing, spaced out along the street against the opposite block. </p><p>We stood there, complaining, and threatened to call... somebody; but they'd apparently finished with the saws, so we shook hands and parted company. </p><p>Back at the apartment, couldn't sleep so I fire up Netflix & there's Bill Pullman doing his shifty eyed detective bit for 'The Sinner' which I really like, and now I'm fully awake, watching a show about a guy who can't sleep.</p><p>I notice his grizzled white beard, and hairstyle, identical to my own, and I think, "Jesus, is that what I look like?"</p><p>If you have to ask. </p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>*You don't want to reconnoiter for madmen with hair sticking straight up, as you might be mistaken for one. </b></span></p>Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-49634503195647978092022-09-18T20:29:00.009-07:002022-09-24T13:05:57.040-07:00Void<p>I have nothing clever to say these days - no idealized, entertaining version of myself or thoughts to convey. Mostly I'm just sad and lonely and tired. </p><p>There's a line from an old Pink Floyd song, something about waking up to realize your race is run. Or maybe I'm just superimposing my own thoughts on a snippet, but that's how it feels right now. All the choices I've made leading up to this moment.*</p><p>My father is gone, just over a year, and I miss him. I miss having someone to call and talk to on the phone who truly knows me, and loves me, and listens. </p><p>Honestly, it's hard to explain why I'm here now, except to fulfill responsibilities to a few loved ones. If it weren't for my mom's dementia, and me poorly attending to her needs, I might've disappeared from my own life long ago - packed up shop and flown to Tennessee or Timbuktu or wherever, just to escape this existence. </p><p>But of course there's no escaping self. </p><p>I wake up most mornings and a thought arises, 'who am I' or lately, even 'what am I'? </p><p>Apparently all the moments in my life have led up to this. this moment of self negation & self discovery - a bardo state between crisis and awakening - but regardless of what you call it, it's so, very, uncomfortable.</p><p>If I could wave my magic wand and disappear in a puff of smoke - presto, chango - like Bullwinkle the Moose pulling a rabbit out of his hat... but then of course, it's a lion's head roaring at you from the darkness vs. the imagined relief of non-existence. </p><p>As Buddha dude, Joseph Goldstein, recently related via podcast, 'anything can happen at anytime'. </p><p>Meanwhile, old Zen masters would sometimes roar like a lion before slipping into the void. Ok, 'roar' may be hyperbolic but cool concept, nonetheless. </p><p>So yeah. </p><p>Rahr.**</p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i>*Yes, this is another unoriginal thought - this time lifted from 'No Country For Old Men' - but hey if you're going to plagiarize, Cormac McCarthy is not a bad choice. </i></b></span> </p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i>**signifying nothing more than the end of my missive, btw</i></b></span></p>Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-6842175808958951762022-01-31T07:05:00.004-07:002022-01-31T07:05:51.414-07:00Contextual Snippet<p>While reading 'Children of Men' last night* discovered my own thoughts flowing, simultaneously, in and out of the books prose, like a subterranean spring, occasionally popping above ground, then back below, but ever present... </p><p>It was an interesting sensation, to be aware of my own thoughts - somewhat autonomous, somewhat influenced - and still in the experience of reading a book I thoroughly enjoyed. </p><p>And I realized this has probably been happening a long time, this simultaneity, but now I've somehow peeled a layer to include awareness of both. </p><p>Similar to seeing 'Murder Alley' Sunday, when w/KB and I were 1 of 4 people in the entire theater. </p><p>I realized as I watched, that not only was I watching the movie, but that I was experiencing it contextually, within the setting of the strangely deserted movie theater, and also in the context of my friendship w/KB, but also in the context of my own current life - all manifestations of something more integral... </p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">*great read btw, if you haven't already. And yes they made a movie w/Clive Owens. Also well done - and esp. well cast as nobody does world-weary and disaffected like Clive, but the book! So on the nose as cypher for current events... Hmmm. Maybe I'll just have to write a more extended, stand alone thought on that... </span></b></p>Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-29355725297788050982019-06-09T07:18:00.000-07:002019-06-09T07:35:54.482-07:00George Jetson<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Dreamt I was immortal<br />
<br />
- outside of time and space -<br />
witness to a never-ending series<br />
<br />
of<br />
Big Bangs<br />
and subsequent collapse<br />
<br />
(like a helix in my mind)<br />
<br />
and I thought,<br />
where's the exit?<br />
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-14325456436769678622019-05-30T06:32:00.003-07:002019-05-30T06:51:25.769-07:00Minute Mindfulness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
I've got 8 minutes before I have to leave for work -but- a lot can happen in 8 minutes, I've discovered.<br />
<br />
How did I discover this?<br />
<br />
I got old.<br />
<br />
Funny thing, getting old is usually associated with time accelerating - 'cause your nominative experience accumulates and increments of time dwindle in comparison.<br />
<br />
But then there's this other thing that occurs as we age - the awareness that life is precious, as is the moment.<br />
<br />
And yeah, it's a zen thing but discard the Z word for now.<br />
<br />
In fact, just forget all words...<br />
<br />
(well, except these of course)<br />
<br />
...words being symbols only, and not the meaning itself.<br />
<br />
<i>5 minutes to go!</i><br />
<br />
And the meaning?<br />
<br />
Comes from first hand experience.<br />
<br />
So... I'm in this body, in this place, in this time.<br />
<br />
Which can be viewed as a construct to be escaped - the box of space and time - however....<br />
<br />
<b><i>If </i></b>you believe in an unifying principle... Love or god or the Force, or whatevs - finite things can actually be perceived as a manifestation of the infinite.<br />
<br />
The sensation of keyboard clacking under my fingertips, the intermittent birdsong heard through open windows, the feel of my left ankle crossed over the right, jeans bound in between...<br />
<br />
Even the awareness of passing time, which might be considered an impediment to mindfulness, can actually be a way in... to deeper awareness.<br />
<br />
In itself, another veil to be pierced.... or maybe simply experienced, absorbed, and transcended?<br />
<br />
So I can choose to be driven mad by my thoughts... or I can dance with them.<br />
<br />
And who am I even talking to right now?<br />
<br />
Oops! One minute over.<br />
<br />
Shalom.</div>
Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-62337690287593976092018-11-03T10:14:00.001-07:002018-11-03T10:14:29.684-07:00Training<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-24888482340792062492018-10-20T08:56:00.000-07:002018-11-23T07:08:39.292-07:00Remnants<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I rose to greet it back </div>
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-71011629382604500632018-10-20T08:14:00.000-07:002018-11-23T07:26:46.899-07:00Blah blah blah<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuW29pfn37QfufLvaOblC076lu0aVaJvIeaRzDqT3MqKKKJ1T3yQlVWrPJMDsguaNAKp0D9pLNjr5fJZBtQMNbR2elCqrJbGR8cZELEkHWorNVrXxLHRaOj31frbzdZkbyuNMLg/s1600/IMG_4025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuW29pfn37QfufLvaOblC076lu0aVaJvIeaRzDqT3MqKKKJ1T3yQlVWrPJMDsguaNAKp0D9pLNjr5fJZBtQMNbR2elCqrJbGR8cZELEkHWorNVrXxLHRaOj31frbzdZkbyuNMLg/s200/IMG_4025.JPG" width="200" /></a>Just back from Chi-town to visit wit da fam -and- spent the entire day binge watching 'Maniac' on Netflix. </div>
<div>
<br />
Jonah Hill and Emma Stone do a respectable job of not stepping own their own - and each other's - dramatic dicks and I was, if not transported, entertained.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkq5r-8Wm2VACUMXr4MBVAUEEIMWnEO5dqwnLRaDqvRLLBNPRJHpwCpHLNSn9XoM9c2NReoYbYQN7zW-rSJW-mLmTpjwe6Hb2ShpWahmDEqjOqnq4c6-Ok7yN0-KZB8AJCP5ejQ/s1600/IMG_E4021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1401" data-original-width="1600" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkq5r-8Wm2VACUMXr4MBVAUEEIMWnEO5dqwnLRaDqvRLLBNPRJHpwCpHLNSn9XoM9c2NReoYbYQN7zW-rSJW-mLmTpjwe6Hb2ShpWahmDEqjOqnq4c6-Ok7yN0-KZB8AJCP5ejQ/s200/IMG_E4021.JPG" width="200" /></a>Skinny Jonah is oddly disturbing -but- totally works in this portrayal of a schizophrenic, depressive Owen.<br />
<br />
Owen, is the perfect onomonapoetic name btw - no hint of plosive assertion - with both name and character feeling a bit like eating warm oatmeal.<br />
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Blah blah blah.<br />
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<div>
Esp. liked the part about multiple layers of reality with a little psycho-babble thrown in for good measure...</div>
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Meanwhile, here are some pics from the trip... </div>
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-52306771851193094772018-08-12T21:35:00.001-07:002018-11-23T07:09:22.132-07:00The world turns<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
I cycled to Piestewa this a.m. to hike the hill - mountain I mean (though perhaps a poor excuse for one) -but- Phoenix ain't the rockies -and- hauling my carcass in an upwards direction seems to make for good exercise.<br />
<br />
Did the deal (part way, anyway, as last night's margaritas may've become this morning's malaise, turning back 2/3 of the way up) then got on my bike to head back home.<br />
<br />
Yes, I wear spandex. Shows off my butt.<br />
<br />
Ok, not really, but age and practicality have long overcome propriety. The padded seat greatly diminishes that 'kicked in the nuts' feel after long rides, plus less chafing and snagging on thorny branches, etc.. Any hue...<br />
<br />
At the overpass there's a kid with a shopping cart and a dog.<br />
<br />
By kid I mean early 20's - a lil' rough around the edges but with these eyes like a Degrazia painting.<br />
<br />
Which could've been part of his schtick - oozing soulful vulnerability - only he's not utilizing pathetic appeal to work the cars stopped at the light...<br />
<br />
Instead, he's seated and half hidden behind the concrete embankment - trying to comfort the giant effing dog on his lap - pit bull mix of some sort, who is panting and restless - obviously suffering from the heat.<br />
<br />
Gave 'em every last drop out of my camelback, poured into the bottom of a plastic water bottle he'd cut in half.<br />
<br />
Then went a couple blocks, bought some more water at a gas station and doubled back.<br />
<br />
Kid thanked me, said "its more appreciated than you'll ever know" and I had to bolt away before I started to cry.<br />
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Which I did, anyway.<br />
<br />
And am now, again.</div>
Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-81433215468279801462018-08-12T20:40:00.001-07:002018-08-12T22:12:09.310-07:00Nobody <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
puts<br />
baby<br />
in the<br />
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-66681089737772644052018-08-11T08:32:00.002-07:002018-08-11T08:32:56.175-07:00Mo' Randomness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-25790943541110810362018-07-22T13:50:00.003-07:002018-07-22T13:50:50.165-07:00random<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<h2 style="text-align: left;">
Seen while driving this a.m.</h2>
Middle aged white man at the bus stop in front of a large church<br />
<br />
wearing a plaid shirt & jeans,<br />
w/buzzed hair <br />
and a disposable air filter covering nose and mouth,<br />
<br />
held in place by a little white rubber band spanning the back of his head;<br />
<br />
at his waist a small white canvas bag with faded blue block letters<br />
which said:<br />
<br />
PLEASE<br />
SAVE<br />
ME<br />
<br />
Or so I thought.<br />
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-25245298135606660492018-07-16T06:45:00.000-07:002018-10-20T08:59:37.479-07:00Cow says mu<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
if<br />
anger<br />
is fear<br />
masquerading<br />
as control<br />
<br />
and control<br />
an<br />
illusion<br />
<br />
like<br />
this life<br />
and you in it<br />
<br />
the question to ask<br />
<br />
- is the buddha dog god?<br />
<br />
(breathing in)<br />
<br />
Cow says mu.</div>
Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-1300413287796195542018-07-15T21:49:00.000-07:002018-07-15T21:49:52.388-07:00Knowing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-62128786137842158062018-07-06T08:44:00.000-07:002018-07-06T08:44:23.255-07:002018 Flag2GC Ride<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
(TOYS for TOTS BENEFIT)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3koEw3oZc3RqTmzgLjH7vZT7WsS3VSTwMAD-FUuIhv3iJnp2BUqC44v2Z0lhEmnj6pliFfQ4mXOGueE7o6QtXg6s9RnuWP-8CeKysaFfECQc4HQ0TgeeZ08hYSIle70me_WE_g/s1600/IMG_2836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1034" data-original-width="1600" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3koEw3oZc3RqTmzgLjH7vZT7WsS3VSTwMAD-FUuIhv3iJnp2BUqC44v2Z0lhEmnj6pliFfQ4mXOGueE7o6QtXg6s9RnuWP-8CeKysaFfECQc4HQ0TgeeZ08hYSIle70me_WE_g/s320/IMG_2836.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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<h2 style="text-align: left;">
1 MAN, 1 MISSION - RIDE 67 MILES... or DIE TRYING!</h2>
<br />
Folks,<br />
<br />
It’s that time of year again in Phoenix, Arizona.<br />
<br />
With temps well into triple digits (114 degrees today!) - it feels hot enough to melt your face off (think Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom) plus no rain in sight - we should all be sipping Mai Tai’s by the pool.<br />
<br />
Instead, I think to myself (in no small fit of lunacy):<br />
<br />
"Why not do a 67 mile Mountain Bike Ride... in August?!”<br />
<br />
And so - come August 4th - I’ll be hauling my 51 year old carcass up to Flagstaff, hopping on my bike and taking a little spin to... (dramatic music plays)<br />
…<i>the <b><span style="font-size: large;">Grand</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;">Canyon!</span></b></i><br />
<br />
There will be dirt, there will be rock, there will be mud!<br />
Nay, mountains! HUGE MOUNTAINS at lung busting elevations –and- all standing betwixt myself and an ever recedingt horizon.<br />
<br />
“Why,” might you ask, “Adam, would you do such a thing?!”<br />
<br />
Honestly - all drama and masochism aside – this one’s a no-brainer. Why?<br />
<br />
Every dollar earned, goes to <a href="http://www.flagmlc.com/" target="_blank">Marine Relief Charities</a>, which include:<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://www.flagmlc.com/programs/toys_for_tots" target="_blank">Toys for Tots</a></b><br />
<b><a href="http://www.flagmlc.com/programs/youth" target="_blank">Flagstaff Youth Program</a></b><br />
<br />
You had me at Toys for Tots, but together?! No brainer!<br />
<br />
So… if you’d like join in - help put a smile on a kid’s face - now’s your chance!<br />
<br />
Suggested donations include $.50, $1 or $2 per mile - or shoot straight to the head of the class with your gift of $100, $200 or more -however- no amount is too big or too small.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://grouprev.com/2018Flag2GC-adam-blair" target="_blank">DONATE HERE!</a> :-)<br />
<br />
And not only will anything you contribute be <i>greatly appreciated</i> - it will also be <b>tax deductible!</b> :-)<br />
<br />
Questions? Just shoot me a comment -or- click <a href="https://flag2gc.com/the-charity/" target="_blank">here</a><span id="goog_1908892827"><span id="goog_1908892834"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_1908892835"></span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_1908892828"></span>. If you donate on this general page, please mention me by name - Adam Blair!<br />
<br />
Otherwise, thanks so much for your consideration -and- contributions.<br />
<br />
See you on the mountain!!<br />
<br />
-Adam<br />
<br />
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*<a href="https://flag2gc.com/" target="_blank">https://flag2gc.com/</a></div>
Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-45900671546308745512018-01-01T07:49:00.002-07:002018-01-01T07:50:19.278-07:00Festive<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-4754311877537907172017-12-25T07:45:00.002-07:002017-12-26T08:32:05.168-07:00Piestewa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666;"> 19:46</span><br />
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-60711994918340657742017-12-25T07:16:00.001-07:002017-12-25T07:34:58.230-07:00City of LIghts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #999999;">No Phoenii* were harmed in the making of these photos, taken at <a href="https://lightsoftheworldus.com/" target="_blank">Lights of the World</a>, currently at the state fairgrounds behind the old Coliseum. It's, like, bad-ass, dudes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="color: #999999;">*P</span><span style="color: #999999;">lural of Phoenix, duh**</span></b></span></div>
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<b style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">**What do you get if you combine more than one Phoenix with a ring shaped island made of old Barbie's? </span></b></div>
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<b style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A Phoeni-barb-atoll. </span></b></div>
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<b style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">What? </span></b></div>
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-13933918752336646202017-12-25T06:53:00.000-07:002017-12-25T06:54:35.145-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Lights of the World</h3>
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Chinese Acrobats </h2>
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-14775829716517269322017-12-17T15:50:00.000-07:002017-12-17T15:50:00.966-07:00The Local<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Met mom and Jean in Prescott yesterday for pre-holiday festivities.<br />
<br />
After eating lunch at a place called The Local, organic and tasty, we walked down the street to find her favorite vacuum cleaner repair place.<br />
<br />
"Neighborhood looks right but I think they're closed," said mom as we walked, hoping to recover her wayward Electrolux, left some weeks previous.*<br />
<br />
We found 'em 2 blocks down, around the corner, and they were open!<br />
<br />
The not-quite-ancient lady behind the counter had waxy, maroon colored hair and abnormally long, hairy forearms - a bit lycanthropic in retrospect.<br />
<br />
Mom, hard of hearing, shouted out introductions - mentioning I'd come from Phoenix.<br />
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To which the lady said, "my son lives in Phoenix. It's his birthday today but I tried calling him and he won't answer."<br />
<br />
For some reason, I imagined an aging man - weathered and perhaps hungover - staring through slitted eyes at the ringing phone. He'd escaped his parents and small town life but mortality loomed.<br />
<br />
Roger, her husband, came out from the back - tall, slightly hunched, with a furrowed brow and peering eyes that looked everywhere but at us.<br />
<br />
He was also hard of hearing. Or maybe just in a marriage where the wife addresses her husband in third person.<br />
<br />
"Roger's in a real mood today," she announced as he came out.<br />
<br />
At which point he stopped, took us in, then headed back from whence he came.<br />
<br />
Moment's later he re-emerged with mom's vacuum and turned it on. The noice was horrible - a combination of grating and grinding. <br />
<br />
Then a little plastic chunk flew out and it purred like a kitten.<br />
<br />
Mom handed over her card and after some shouting:<br />
<br />
"Card doesn't work! How much?! Sign here!! Doesn't work?! Merry Christmas!!"<br />
<br />
We left with a thud of the door and a clang of the bell.<br />
<br />
"Don't make 'em like that anymore," said mom.<br />
<br />
True dat.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>* A real life, actual Electrolux Vacuum Cleaner!</b></span><br />
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-65292460969794926472017-12-17T13:44:00.000-07:002017-12-17T13:44:37.242-07:00Coffee w/Max <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-40890947189882845402017-12-17T13:38:00.000-07:002017-12-17T13:38:05.216-07:004am<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
this morning<br />
I dreamt of an elk<br />
with a cougar's face<br />
<br />
super imposed<br />
over<br />
it,<br />
<br />
which was, either:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
1. a cougar come back as an elk... </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
2. it's spirit protector -or-</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
3. two narratives, mixed:</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
{an elk hunt I know of<br />
-and-<br />
a large cat spotted recently at Brown's ranch} </blockquote>
<br />
My friend was in the dream, showing me the cat-faced elk he'd just killed.<br />
<br />
And was it him or me I was dreaming about?*<br />
<br />
Very David Lynch**<br />
<br />
<br />
*Freud might've said they were all aspects of myself. Or was it Jung?<br />
**I did recently see photos of the little man in the red room from the last episode of Twin Peaks, so there's that. </div>
Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-12365782888734195722017-12-03T09:55:00.000-07:002017-12-03T09:56:24.740-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444;">In the now</span></div>
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-35217343090017661192017-11-25T10:51:00.001-07:002017-11-25T10:53:54.824-07:00Thanksgiving Eve<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18230317.post-38364720169831333062017-11-25T10:44:00.001-07:002017-12-25T06:57:49.334-07:00I want to be Rilke<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
a god in my own right,<br />
perched atop death and human experience<br />
<br />
- as Thanos enthroned<br />
upon a mound of gleaming skulls<br />
<br />
eyes, glowing and smoking<br />
like embers in a pipe,<br />
well drawn...<br />
<br />
eyes<br />
with the stars<br />
showing through them;<br />
<br />
infinity reflected<br />
<br />
inside<br />
and out -<br />
<br />
and in my posited Rilke-esqueness<br />
<br />
(silk smooth,<br />
wise<br />
and resolute)<br />
<br />
I'd shit<br />
easter eggs of encapsulated existence,<br />
<br />
and with assonant assertions<br />
<br />
rise<br />
whispering<br />
from the depths<br />
of archetype,<br />
<br />
embed<br />
myself<br />
-entire-<br />
in the collective<br />
subconscious,<br />
<br />
Id, ego, etc.<br />
et al.<br />
<br /></div>
Adamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09073768594982213218noreply@blogger.com2