Never Not Near

There is a pile of ripped up paper by his feet. Bits of popcorn that doesn't make his mouth dot the perimeter of the pile. His companion looks back towards the road they took in and squints to read the sign. His elbow brushes her arm.
"Huh?"
Ralph keeps staring forward.
"Why not the favorite Ralph? Why these long shots? Why do you do it to yourself? Just go with them. Ralph, go with the winner. Go with the winner."

She pulls out the chair at the short table and asks to change the channel on the television to her right.
"You can't smoke in here."
She removes the cigarette from her lips and flips open her wallet. Her fingers graze the ends of dirty bills while she counts backwards in her head.
"Six Seventy-Two please."

Ralph wrings his hands then flattens his shirt against his bulging gut. He pulls a paper from his pocket and blows it a kiss.

"Go with the winner."

a warm welcome back to california

I flew jetblue back to california. I had a whole row to myself. I watch espn on one tv, the google map of the plane on another tv, and listened to xm radio 80's alternative hits on the third tv. I slept sprawled across three seats, which resulted in me getting dirty looks from the older woman across the aisle from the seat my feet occupied. She was next to a mother and her son. When I woke up we had just entered california, and as we crossed over some mountains by riverside the plane bounced and shook and dropped with turbulence. It made the kid throw up. It didn't make my heart feel as good as normal, but it still made me feel good to be home. Here are some pictures of the things I've been doing the last few days. Now I'm going to ride my bike to whit's. (bike ride with bill, drinking at a desert preserve, pina colada's, veggie pot pie)

just come see me again when it burns.

California is on fire.

I can walk outside and look south probably 30-40 miles and see some flames on top of hill. That sentence sounds more exciting or dramatic than it could ever be. I usually enjoy a good fire. I see all the smoke, the sky is red, i can smell it, sometimes there is ash in the air. But not today, not the last couple of days.

Before my senior year in high school I read a collection of short stories by Joan Didion. One of them spoke of fire and "the santa anas", winds that nontraditional go out towards the ocean. (That's probably not the best description, I'd apologize if it mattered.) Those winds are one of the few things giving the firefighters so much trouble out here. And me too.

With the normal wind all the smoke and fires would be blown my direction.

So instead of sitting outside in what has become a quiet night at the house I am laying around listening to every song in my itunes folder that has "smoke" "fire" "burn" or "flame" in the title. It is 4 hours long. I am also battling a cold that needs to hit the road before I hit the road on wednesday. A few hours ago I almost choked on a cough drop and realized no one would probably found my body for a few days and the cat would try to eat some of me and I got really depressed for about 5 minutes. But then I realized that someone would put my myspace profile on deadspace and everything was ok.

A few years ago california was getting fucked by fires. Santa Clarita was getting it pretty good. We had ash at our house, the way I like it. A group of friends went down to the big LA and saw some bands play. The "14" was closed so we had to take windy mountain roads to get there. There was ash in hollywood, the way I like it. The band Smoke of Fire (from Richmond, VA) was here and they wrote this song about it. The video is at the top.

I'm thinking a mix should be in order for tomorrow. Maybe a fest mix. Maybe a fire mix. Probably both.

If I burn up, I'll figure out a way to tell you.