Just checkin' in...

First of all, a huge RIP to the best of the best, Mr. Jimmy-Jams James Brown. A sad day in music history.

That being said...tell me this isn't pretty eerie: do you remember the last time a great, legendary African American performer died? Two years ago, Ray Charles? At age 73, same as James...

And who died w/in a week of Ray? Ronald Reagan, age 93 (he was sixty-freakin'-nine when he was elected president!)...and who just died today? Yup, that's right. Gerald Ford. 93 years old.

The best we can hope for now is some combination of 50-cent and Dubya, am I right?

Language update: I think I have progressed to the point of a small child...or a really really smart dog. I say this because, when I'm out walking around the city, I can often understand the elderly (who usually speak slower than their descendents) when they chat w/ their grandkids or dogs.

I mean, don't get me wrong; I'm not at the level of one of those super-smart four year olds or something. No, the kids I'm on par with will most likely end up in that 1^st grade classroom behind the furnace, with construction paper taped over the window in the door. I haven't seen any short-buses on the roads here, but if there are... then the kids I am at the same level of verbal understanding with would definitely be riding them.

At the same time, that's one hella clever dog I'm comparing myself to. That's like some Lassie or Rin Tin Tin kinda smart dog.

Speaking of dogs...did I mention that this city is a dog city? Just about everyone here seems to have at least one dog. Sometimes they are the big mamma-jammas, but for the most part it's those little ankle-biters. I always feel bad for them; it's such a big busy city and, even more than usual, these little guys just seem freaked out all the time. Hell, I understand how they feel.

Question: is there anything more uncomfortable-looking than a dog being forced to take a crap in the middle of the sidewalk? You can just see the look on their face: "I've been trying to hold this in until we at least got to some grass so I could hide it somewhat...but I can'ts holds it no mores!" You know they're thinking: "damn it! Every predator and prey within 10 miles of here now knows exactly where we are...and what I ate for damn breakfast! We're totally screwed!" They even fruitlessly try to scrape some sidewalk up with their back paws to try to bury their shame. Then, when their owner picks up the pile with a plastic baggy, the dog looks somewhat relieved (no pun intended): "Ah, good idea! If we take it with us, we'll at least confuse them some! Cause what loony-bin asshat would PICK UP AND CARRY HIS OWN FECES WITH HIM??? Smart master. Very smart."

Went out for a long walk yesterday, not aware of the fact that Catalonians also get the day after Christmas off...and it was a nice sunny day to boot...so people were EVERYWHERE. But it was cool, everyone seemed to be in a good mood. And I saw what I think is the coolest street performer I've ever witnessed. The genre of street performance that is most popular here is the "fake statue": people dress up as some sort of statue and usually, just, well, they usually just stand as still as possible. Statue-imitatin'. But yesterday people were pulling out all the stops. I saw a really cool Don Quixote and Sancho Panza team. They were actually interacting with the audience too. But the definite winner of the derby was the woman who was dressed up like a tree.

First of all, she was standing up on some kind of platform, so she was probably 8 feet tall. And her dress was made out of some kind of foam-rubber looking material, painted up brown and green, so it really looked like a trunk. And she was wearing this crazy headpiece, with branches and leaves all over it...and, I swear to god, she had dreadlocks running down the back that reached the ground. No kidding. I mean, it's possible they were just attached to the headpiece or whatever...but I don't think so. And there's no way she had 8 frickin' foot dreadlock-extensions. No, I think this woman really did just have 8 foot dreads. And if you know how dreads are formed, that's about 20 feet of undreaded hair. You know, come to think of it, it just doesn't seem possible. They would have broken off or something, and she certainly didn't look 70 years old (which is about how long it would take to farm dreads that long). Okay, you've really turned me around on this one; she was just going for the mossy look and they were attached to the headpiece.

In any case, it was really cool. She was just standing there, playing with one of those crystal orbs; you know the kind, where people roll them all up and down their arms and whatever? So she was going for some sort of tree-nymph look. And, of course, I didn't have my camera with me. Sorry...

Happy Pagan Winter Festival of Rebirth Day!

An interesting phenomenon here that I haven't noticed in other cities (quite possibly because I avoid public places like the plague around Christmas) is what I've taken to calling "Las Santas Mugrientas": The Filthy Santas. These are random street people who sit on the sidewalk, dressed in full-on Santa regalia, and are just dirty as hell. Their suits are dirty, their faces, hands...personalities...this one guy, the prototypical example, has a beard...only it's gray and scraggly and gross. I'd like to think he was going for the "I got sooty coming down the chimney" look, but... I imagine him telling the little children to "come sit on Santa's lap and tell him what you want for Christmas" and shudder.
This makes it all the more clear why it's the Three Wise Men who bring gifts to children at Christmastime here. Cause if someone were to catch even a glimpse of a Filthy Santa at an impressionable age...jeez-o-man. I, for one, would be saying to myself, "wait a damn minute here...this motherfucker is going to be coming down my chimney in the middle of the night? Eatin' my cookies? Oh hell no." It would scare the crap out of me.
Oh yeah, happy solstice everyone! I actually get way more excited for solstice these days than Christmas...especially in Seattle. Days gettin' longer again...oh yeah...
Had an interesting solstice-related experience this week. On Sunday, I decided that I wanted to spend some more time this week in study; specifically religious/spiritual studies. Reading books of scripture, doing some research into the background of certain religions, etc. So on Monday I sit down to read this packet of Buddhist tracts that I've had for several years, but have never read beyond a page of mantras that I would occasionally use to augment my practice. So I'm reading through this packet, and it says that solstices and equinoxes are especially powerful energy days for meditation and spiritual study. I crinkle my brow for a moment...wait, when's the solstice? Having pretty much checked out of the Christmas Derby this year, it took me a minute to realize, holy crap! It's gotta be this Thursday or Friday, right? Yup, it's today.
So to recap: I had already decided to focus more on my spiritual studies this week. And then the first thing I read tells me that the week will culminate in a day of heightened spiritual energy. Pretty neat huh?
So I thumbed through the Tao De Ching again, read The Gospel of Thomas (one of the Apocryphal books of Christianity, very different from the accepted scripture and really cool), and have now set out to read parts of the New Testament. I figure it's Jesus's birthday...might as well check out his biography for once.
Some interesting research I've been doing is about the "historical Jesus" question. In my opinion, he's a mythic character designed to represent each person's individual path to enlightenment. Whether or not he was a real person is immaterial to me; he's a metaphor. There is a whole lot of material written about this topic of course; I won't go into all the details, arguments, etc. Suffice to say it's a pretty compelling argument, as far as I'm concerned.
So I'm reading some essays written by literalist Christians...and they have to run themselves in these circles trying to prove that the bible is history, when the straightest line is mystic. One guy says "the only possible explanation for how Jesus's life so completely mirrors Jacob's is that Jesus was Jacob reincarnated!" The next guy: "the fact that Joshua and Jesus are so eerily similar proves without a doubt that God is real and the bible is his literal message! How else could their life stories match up so closely otherwise?" Uhhhh...here's a theory guys; what if the guys who wrote the New Testament actually READ THE OLD TESTAMENT??? And maybe used some of the same imagery for their updated stories, because people were already familiar with them, etc.? No? Not possible?
Sorry, I'm not trying to be elitist or condescending, really I'm not. I have a lot of my own blind spots and assumed truths: wearing pants in public for example. I'm pretty well stuck on that one. And I'm definitely not mocking people who believe in God, are religious, etc., because it should be pretty obvious that I am myself committed to my own spiritual development...and part of that is accepting all the bat-shit loony ways other people want to express their beliefs. That being said...these fundies, man...they scare me more than Filthy Santa.
Anyways, that's where I am: sitting in Barcelona on the solstice reading The Book of Matthew. How 'bout you? What's going on for Christmas?

'sappenin'...

A bit of backstory; before I left for my trip, I downloaded almost 200 GB of media from my buddy Aaron onto an external hard drive. Movies, tv shows, music, audio books...the works. So there's all this unconsumed stuff I've had with me the whole time, and I've barely cracked the cover of any of it. Most central to this morning's story is that there is a whole bunch of jazz music that I haven't listened to yet.

So this morning I'm chillin', reading some news, having a bit of breakfast, and I throw on the headphones to drown out the incessant din of any number of neighbors living their lives. And I decide to try something new... this jazz guitarist called "Mahavishnu." I won't go into the details of why he's called that or anything; but I had done a bit of research and decided to give it a try. I didn't get very far into it...it's okay so far. Just enough like Grant Green/Jimmy Smith to make me say, "okay...yeah, I can dig it..." but juuuust enough like ELP to make me say, "oh hell no." So the jury's still out.

Here's the point: the opening note of one song sparked "No Surprises" to pop into my head. And I immediately thought, "holy crap, that's what I need to be listening to right now! OK Computer!!!" I had to dig out the hard drive and hook it up to my laptop, but it's worth it. Ahhhhh...

So I know what a lot of you are thinking right now. "Ah damn, is he really gonna do it? Is he really gonna be the 10 million and 2^nd shoegazer who writes the loving homage to OK Computer?" The short answer is no. Not right now at least. Suffice to say, I am not someone who would argue with those people who place it squarely at the top of the all-time-greatest-album list. But that's been done, what? 10,000,001 times before, right? So I'll leave it alone...for now.

Not sure why I felt compelled to bring that up. But I thought you should know.

It's funny; I had a whole, regular, "here's the haps" blog all lined up for yesterday. But then I got tagged and ended up writing that whole long thing...plus something for Crazy Melvin about baseball...and was all written out by the time it was over. So the regular blog had to wait...and it will still have to wait cause I'm leaving. Not that I had to tell you that of course...

Okay, so now it's tomorrow. That's today, for those of you reading of course...but most likely not the same today as me. Even if it is the same today (Sunday), you are most likely asleep as I write this (2am PST). Ah time. Gotta love it...

Something I've been meaning to do for awhile now: give a big shout-out to my home-skillet Dave "Capn' Surly" Hogan, an amazing photographer. I've added a link to his online photo collection in my links section. I highly recommend you go check it out, he's really really good and should be doing it for a living.

More random news:

One day last week I was down at the shore and heard these two little Spanish kids running around singing, "hey, ho! Let's go! Hey, ho! Let's go!" It took me a second to recognize it, but then..."holy crap! Those kids are singing the Ramones!" I hoped against hope that they'd break into the rest of the song...but nope, just Hey ho let's go over and over. Still pretty cool.

Been a good week all around. I'm kind of sick at the moment, but that's to be expected: I see people sniffling and coughing and sneezing everywhere I go, and what with the new climate, new diet, new everything, really, it is to be expected that my body would freak out a bit.

Don't you love it when you discover something new and amazingly cool after months and months in a place? I went up to the top of this other big "mountain" (guffaw) the other day; I think it's probably the coolest place I've been yet. But, it's also the newest cool place I've been, so it's hard to be completely objective at this point. One of the things that was really neat about it was that, from up there, I could see the other vantage points from which I've surveyed the city over the past few months. I could remember vividly looking out towards the hill I was standing on and wondering what it would look like standing over there, looking towards the hill I was on...and then I found my way up there. Also, there are several museums at various elevations on the hill, including a military museum at the very top of the hill. It's housed in an old medieval fortress, right on a bluff overlooking the water. So you could stand at the edge of one of the castle walls, look out over the Sea, and imagine hordes of Moors landing their boats on the beach and swarming up the cliffs. Frightening and amazing.

5 things

Okay, so...my new blog buddy, Justin, has "tagged" me in a game of virtual...well, tag. I'll let him explain it:

So there's this really great game going around the" internets". Whats this game? Well you write 5 things about yourself the general public doesn't know about you and then you tag someone.

Make sure all body parts are securely inside the vehicle, here we go...

1. Random music-related facts about Jerod you might not know: I play the drums and guitar. My first band was called "Hooked On Phonics." The first "real" band I was in was called "Captain Puget," and our one and only "album" was called "Stupid Like a Fox." My most recent project was nameless, but the idea that was most seriously considered was "Well Worth the Dig." It's a line from a poem attributed to the Marquis de Sade, that we found in the movie "Quills" starring Geoffrey Rush as the notorious French nobleman. The poem was about necrophilia...I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

2. Random literature-related facts about Jerod you might not know: I majored in creative writing in college and had four poems published before my 23^rd birthday. Then I stopped writing poetry. So there you go. A fact that also could also fit into #1 is that I've rewritten the lyrics to "No Woman No Cry" in an homage to the Flintstones called "No Wilma No Cry." If there is enough interest I might just post the lyric on Crazy Melvin. Oh who am I kidding, I'll post'em there anyways.

3. Random movie-related facts about Jerod you might not know: "Good Will Hunting" is one of my all-time favorite movies. I always cry at the end of "Pieces of April." (Breaks my heart that Tom Cruise's fruity little club got to Katie Holmes.) In college I appeared in a ½ hour vignette called "Dojo Dogs" as Naked Ninja, wearing only a black mask and a long, greasy, black wig-codpiece. The movie included two gratuitous ass shots. And some naked snow angels. I was prepared to go Full Monty, but for the sake of the R rating I demurred.

4. Random pet-related facts about Jerod you might not know: I have three pets: a dog and two cats. The dog's name is Baxter, a name that was inherited from the breeders from whom we bought the dog, and to which I was vehemently opposed. First, because the only Baxter people know is Meredith Baxter-Birney, Elyse Keaton on "Family Ties." And what self-respecting dog needs that hanging around his neck like an albatross? And second, I am convinced that, if you walk out into a park and start yelling "Baxter," everyone will think you're yelling "Bastard." Which now that I think of it is actually pretty cool. Okay, strike that second gripe about the name; in fact, I'll commit to this right now: my next dog will be called "Hover Clucker." It's settled.

My cats are not technically named after Boris and Natasha from "The Bullwinkle Show." Boris's name is actually spelled "Boros" and is short for "Oroboros Charlie Babbit." Oroboros is that mythical snake-eating-its-tail icon, which was cropping up in my life when I first got Boros...and he also enjoyed chasing his tail as a kitten. "Charlie Babbit" is the name of the character from "Flowers For Algernon." Boros is brain-damaged, you see. He's my little special-needs kitty...wait, scratch that. He's my little "kitty with special-needs." We talk in creature-first language on this blog; he's a kitty first and special-needs second. Not vice versa.

Anyhoo, Boros's back end don't work so well. He's wildly entertaining and not the least bit daunted by the challenges he faces. The best metaphors I've come up with for his particular condition are: 1) a firetruck, with one fireman in front driving the main truck and another needed in back to steer the rear, which sometimes will fly around seemingly out of control when the truck turns a corner too fast or something. 2) One of those two-person horse costumes, where the person in the haunch-half can't see what's going on and just has to follow the head and forefeet part of the costume. 3) A stegosaurus. Just cause it supposedly had a second brain at the base of its tail since the one up front wasn't enough.

I had Boros for two years before I got Natasha. She is, in fact, named after Natasha Fatale. I got her, and was walking around trying to figure out what to name her. I kept saying in my head, "Boros and...Boros and..." when the obvious hit me. It really fits her well, too. When she was young she was dubbed "Naughty" because she was a little troublemaker. But as she's gotten older she's become quite possibly the sweetest little creature I've ever encountered. A near -perfect example of the love-bug -girl-kitty.

And yes, I am "that single guy who lives with two cats." I'm not gay though. Really. So just shut up! Alright, that's enough, I'll lick everyone in the whole joint, bring it on! One at a time or all at once, it don't make no difference to me!!!

Seriously though, just because I happen to have two cats doesn't mean that I like...

Okay, real quick aside here: specifically for my mom, but also for anyone else of a semi-sensitive nature (grandmothers, conservative politicians, the "real" pope, etc.). I am about to make an extremely crude and offensive comment here. I want to warn you right now that, if you don't want to read this terrible, terrible thing I'm about to write, you should seriously skip over the next paragraph. Honest-to-god, no joke. And if you don't heed my warnings and read on, and are shocked and appalled, and turn red to the tips of your ears at work, well...you can't say I didn't warn you and I don't want to hear about it. I will even add some nice, calming pictures above and below the offending paragraph so your eyes don't "accidentally" wander across the phrase in question.

Okay, where was I? Ah yes, here we go: (ahem): just because I happen to have two cats doesn't mean that I like to have balls on my chin.

One more note about Boros (that also sort of fits into #1 in its way): a couple years ago, when that terrible Justin Timberlake song was made into a McDonalds' commercial and was being played all the time, I co-opted it and applied it to Boros. Of important note for this anecdote is the fact that one of Boros's nicknames is "Bubba." So I'd be sitting there petting him, and I'd sing, "buh-buh-buh-buh-buh...I'm rubbin' him."

5) Random geek-related facts about Jerod you might not know: I love grammar. I enjoy doing math in my head. (Which actually comes in handy, especially here: I can convert Celsius to Fahrenheit, kilograms to pounds...you name it.) I'm a 21^st level ninja-cowboy-astronaut with a million hitpoints and maximum charisma. I mostly eat beans.

So there you go. Five Jerod-related categories of facts that you might not have known. Most of you probably knew at least several; but I would be very very surprised if any of you knew them all.

Okay, now to tag some peops of my own...I guess I'll hit my boys Eric T. and James Z. from Crazy Melvin...Tara from Terra's Playground...and Admiral Zing for good measure.

Word.

Take two

Well. What a week. The universe surely will conspire to keep you humble, won't it? Man. I won't go into all the details, but suffice to say; some humbling experiences this week. Language-oriented, spatially-oriented...

Okay, I'll explain some. First of all; yesterday I set out again on a trek to reach CT (Churchy Thing). I made a concerted effort to pay closer attention this time to where I was, where I was going, where I'd been, etc. And at one point in the trip, I finally figured out the mystery of what the hell happened on Monday. Let's just say that, on Monday, had I continued walking another ½ mile or so from the point where I decided to turn around and head back, I would have blown my little mind. It's definitely for the best that I didn't; it was hard enough on my ego when I just thought I'd stumbled around the city and ended up on the back-side of the park on the hill. By yesterday I'd gotten over it enough to be able to face the sad, ugly truth; I was truly, truly, nowhere close to where I thought I was. And let's just leave it at that for now. I was able to laugh at myself though. So that's good.

Enough of that! Let's talk about the expedition proper! It was a good walk. I got much closer to CT, close enough to realize a) it's much farther away that it seems, and it seems pretty far, and b) I don't think you can really walk up there. I'm pretty sure you have to take a bus, or drive, or something. The road is not a walking path.

But I got pretty close; at my closest point, I realized that there's some sort of amusement park up there. SWEET! I saw the tops of several rides: Ferris wheel, a kiddy roller coaster of some sort, that sort of thing. Honestly? I think I got close enough. I have been satiated. Oh yeah, also: I think the actual CT is some sort of hospital. So there you go.

But the walk was nice, and actually included a fair bit of honest-to-god off-roading. That was a lot of fun. I winded my way up the hill that I would have to traverse to reach CT, and right near the top I went straight up this overgrown trail through trees and tall grass to a false pinnacle. I'd guess it was 100 feet, pretty steep. I'd say that was the highlight of the walk, but I figured out the layout of the city a bit more, too. I had been thinking that the city was rimmed by hills, but it turns out (I think) that the hills form a sort of semi-circle in the middle of the city, of which Parc Guell (the "mountain" (snicker) from which I originally saw CT) is one of several. And I figured out a more direct route from the vantage point I reached at the end of yesterday's trip, so in the future I will probably use that as the first leg of a different walk I make to parts unknown.

What else...it finally rained here last week. That was good. (And yes, I can hear most of you laughing...that bitter, mirthless laugh of the Seattlite in December.) But it was nice to have the rain; the city actually smelled kinda good for a few hours...

But, it's sunny again now, so I'm going to go for a walk. Not sure where, though I imagine I'll meander down towards the water (cause the city slopes that way...you know).

**********

Okay, I have to say it; you know that last line, the parenthetical aside directly above? I know that should be the end of this post. I feel it very strongly. But I can't help myself. Because that line is from the same Simpsons episode as "The Pope of Chilitown." So if you didn't believe me before, you can believe me now; much as Hebrews believe that the entire universe is contained in the Torah...so to do I believe the same about that episode of the Simpsons.

That is all.

glory be

Sometimes, if you are really paying attention, the universe will provide you with gifts of delight and wonder when you least expect them. Today, as I was walking downtown, I happened to look up and see a sign. It was for a store called "Felices Fiestas," the happy party store. Only at the exact moment I looked up, there was a tree trunk in my line of vision that blocked out the L and the I...that's right, there was a Feces Fiesta going on in downtown Barcelona today.
Wish you coulda been there.

dummer

Well now, what's going on? Sunday was quite successful. I finally got down to making hummus, and it turned out real well. I hand-ground the sesame seeds with a mortar and pestle (yeah!), made tahini, mashed the chick peas gradually into the mix, added the lemon juice, gradually added olive oil, some water so it wasn't so chalky, minced garlic, salt, pepper, and cumin. The whole process took less than an hour, and I have a ton of it.

It's been getting damn cold here the past week, like wake-you-up-at-5am-because-of-your-nosesickle kind of cold...but the last few days have been fabulous again. Sunny and warm. Long walks around town in a t-shirt weather. I could even have gotten away with shorts, if not for the fact that the sun goes down early so it's easier to get caught out when it starts to get colder...

And then today...what can be said about today. Another "Jerod is a dork" story. (What is it about Mondays? Last Monday was the fire alarm debacle.) This one, quite honestly, smarts. And not just because I slightly tweaked my ankle walking down a dirt path. I don't even want to talk about it, but in the interest of scientific accuracy I will eat (another) slice of humble pie and tell it like it is.

So I mentioned I wanted to walk up to the churchy-thing on the distant hill, right? Okay, today I decided, at about 10am, to go for it. Packed a lunch, threw my stuff in the backpack, and set out. My plan was to first travel to the spot I had first noticed the CT (churchy thing), get a general direction, and then make my way there as directly as possible. The problem is, between the two hills is still a big bustling city. It seems from the top of the hill that it's more residential, that the buildings might not be quite so tall and, therefore, that it'd be easier to orient to the CT as I went.

WRONG! Once you get down off the hill it's basically the same as anywhere else I've been in the city, and I gradually lost my bearings...long story short, I ended up (several hours later) ascending the back side of Parc Guell...which is the park from which I first espied the CT. I mean, I knew I'd backtracked; at one point I was getting tired and discouraged and, rather than get completely lost (off the map, I might add), I doubled back in hopes of finding my way to higher ground and finding the scent again. Well, I did that...only I completely doubled back and ended up making a big U. At least it was the opposite end of a fairly large park...oh who am I kidding. When I got partway up the hill and realized where I was I shook my head in that way that can only mean "damn. I'm an idiot."

Otherwise, there isn't a whole ton to report...I'm living. I've found my way into a great routine, one that fills every hour I'm awake with interesting activities. But most of the days are similarly filled, and so any report of them would end up being redundant. The days turn into weeks, and now the weeks have even begun to turn into months. I've been here almost eight weeks! And eleven more in front of me. I'm excited to see where it all ends up, but I'm equally excited to experience each individual day. To watch the slow benefits of each day build up into noticeable effects at the end of the week, the month, etc. Soon to be the end of the year...yeesh. 2007? Really? I feel like I missed a year somewhere in there.