Happy summer!

So Christmas is obviously the Christian response to the winter solstice... and Easter to the spring equinox... does that make Father's Day some sort of weird co-opted summer solstice celebration? Something to do with the patriarchy maybe? And where does that leave us for the autumnal equinox? Columbus Day? The celebration of the death and dying part of the grand cycle? Frankly I'm a bit confused.

I did my part for the war effort today. Filled up my tank at "USA Gas." $45, and that's a bargain these days! "Only" $3.15/gallon. I mean, I'm not an old man, but I clearly, clearly remember gas being under a buck a gallon. Not that I'm complaining, really, because the hike in the gas prices is at least in part energizing the alternative fuel revolution. Still. As always, sucks to be poor. I wonder how much it would cost to feed an Iraqi family for a day... You gotta figure $45 would feed a pretty good-sized group over there. Do you think it costs more to kill one Iraqi, or feed a whole family?

Oh well. Throw my 45 bucks on the pile. Maybe I can inscribe a tiny message on the head of the bolt that I paid for. I can find solace in my apology when the warhead my bolt is screwed into is dropped on a hospital.

So much is going on! I have two, count'em TWO, new jobs. I'm working as a copy/content editor on a brand-new start-up magazine about dance and movement. I'm getting in on the ground floor, I'm really the first editor they've hired so I'm getting to do a lot of fun stuff I never would have had the chance to do before. I'm editing some of the pieces they've collected, and am also conceptualizing a sort of revisionist style guide. Guerrilla grammar, if you will. I've decided to throw myself into it as a writing project, devote some of my own time to it, as well. I'll tell you more about it as it develops.

My second job is real mellow and simple; just helping out this activist/historian/author/poet in her home. She just had a stroke, so the point is to do all the household types of tasks so she can just focus on her work. Cooking, cleaning, stuff like that. It's only two days a week, and it's in Berkeley, so it gets me out of the house and into a more vibrant part of the area. I finish there at 1, and then have the rest of the afternoon to bum around Berkeley, or jump on the BART into SF or something.

So things are lining up. The schedule is starting to take shape. I'm excited to see how things progress over the summer. And, it's a priority to write more, to post to the blog a few times a week, so hopefully the gap from my last entry til now will prove to be the exception rather than the rule. We'll see...

Sunday morning yard-blog

Sitting out in the backyard, typing on my laptop on a sunny Sunday morning. Light breeze blowing off the Bay, Boros is at my feet, just chillin'... to quote the Supersuckers, "it's gooooood livin'."

I can't imagine what this is like for Boros. He's always been content enough with a decent-sized balcony, and now he's got this whole new world available. I've even taken to letting him hang out in the yard without direct supervision; I just occasionally check on him from the window, and if I can't spot him I'll go make sure he hasn't wandered too far. He's usually just hanging out in the underbrush. And if I'm out here with him, he often sits where he is now, between my feet; I think it's all just overwhelming for him sometimes, and he feels safer there. Like when I was a little kid and would attach myself to my dad's leg when we were in a public place.

There are also three baby chickens who live here, they have to stay inside now because a couple of the first ones got picked off by predators as soon as my housemates turned their backs... now we're letting them grow big enough in a contained setting before transitioning them to their own coop in the corner. Boros is obviously fascinated by them, but so far he's shown very little of the hunting instinct. I don't think it's that he doesn't have it; he will sometimes "stalk" them, approach their cage really slowly, close to the ground, etc. But the way his brain works is that all the other non-cerebellum parts have to compensate for his motor-skills disfunction, so whenever he has to "multi-task" he gets even less coordinated. The other parts of his brain have to take care of their normal routines, and his cerebellum is left on its own. Something like that moron co-worker we've all had to deal with; everyone else has to work to help them with their regular day-to-day tasks, but when a big project comes in and nobody has time to help, they are exposed. That's Boros's cerebellum.

Finally feel settled in here; got the big recliner I inherited from the kids I subleased the Davis place from, set that up in the corner of my "office," so now I have a nice reading nook (more like napping station) set up. I'll post some pictures of the whole place in the next week or two, just to give an idea of where I live. But I feel comfortable here.

I'm going in this week to check out the Shambhala meditation center in Berkeley; Monday I'm going to a Zen archery practice (how cool is that?), and Wednesday night there is a yoga group that meets before sitting meditation. I'm excited to ramp up my practice some more.

Oh yeah, here's another cool thing; about ¼ mile from the house there is this ginormous park, it must be hundreds of acres... I was checking it out on a map, and you can literally walk out the door to my house, up the street, and then through this park all the way to the UC Berkeley campus some 10 miles away. I walked around in there for awhile last week, it's all rolling hills and trees up this way... amazing views of the Bay and San Francisco. I'm excited to go exploring some more.

Otherwise, just trying to settle in and get a good schedule going. Applying for more and more jobs, the right one is just around the corner. I can feel it. I've refined my "perfect job"; part-time, East Bay, preferably Berkeley. I've applied for a couple interesting paid internships, too: small publishing companies, Web and print, putting out political-action publications. Green living, helping the homeless, etc. Sounds promising, no? I will, of course, keep you posted.

Cat puke, The Arcade Fire, and me

Don't you hate it when a woman has writing on her shirt, and then catches you reading that writing and gives you the stink-eye cause she thinks you're ogling her breasts? I mean seriously, if you don't want guys staring at your boobies don't put words there! Human eyes are drawn to words, it's just how the brain works. It's like when somebody has a "honk if you love _____" bumper sticker and then flips you the bird when you honk cause you love ____. C'mon, wtf? If you can't keep track of the shit you have printed all over your clothes and cars and everything else, don't blame me for reading and following directions.

I'm officially staying in the Bay area now. Boros is loving it; I take him outside to explore for awhile every day, sometimes he gets overwhelmed and runs like a crazy thing back inside, but he's digging it. He has a new ritual, in fact; eat as much grass as possible during the day, and then vomit it all out on the floor at night. Last night was especially interesting; he was hanging out with me on my bed when all of the sudden he jumped down and ran into the hallway (good boy). I could tell he was gonna be sick cause his stomach was doing that pumping thing (you know what I mean). But since it was just a bunch of grass in there, kinda pokey and stringy, he started jumping around like a bug and wiggling backwards, like he was trying to escape something rather than the other way around. I am always one who will defend cat intelligence, but it's kind of hard to do when they act so surprised coughing up or vomiting something they themselves consumed; have you ever noticed how surprised a cat looks when spitting up a hairball? I always say, "you spend hours a day licking your fur-covered body... and now you're surprised that you've got a ball of fur lodged in your gut???" Same sort of thing.

I'm also loving the new place; interestingly enough, it's a lot quieter and more calm than the Davis place. You tell most anybody that you're leaving Davis for the Bay area, they're gonna assume (and rightly so) that the pace is about the pick up pretty dramatically. But I'm basically leaving an off-campus dorm for a house in the suburbs; it's quiet at night, and far fewer people walking around during the day. I like it.

I've been to two shows in the Bay area in the past week; last Wednesday was Manu Chao at the Civic Center in downtown San Francisco. It was in the SoMa district, which stands for "south of Market street" in case you were wondering. Makes me think the new developers in Ballard are Northern Californians, because of that inane "NoMa" campaign; one of the development groups is naming all their condos north of Market NoMa, trying to create a new hip neighborhood... give it up guys. Seriously.

But anyways. Manu Chao on Wednesday, and then Saturday was Arcade Fire at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley. Both were good shows, but not nearly as good as I'd hoped. There is a different energy down here that I'm still trying to find an access point into. There are only 300,000 or so more people in San Fran than Seattle, but they're jammed into 1/3 the physical space. That's the best way to describe how the concerts were; extremely crowded, not enough room to get any sort of groove going without somebody knocking into you or something.

Another thing about Arcade Fire; the lead singer told this story about trying to shoot hoops in the UC gym, but some guys were playing full-court and he got into an argument with them cause he wanted to shoot by himself and didn't want to play with them... and the way he told the story, he made it out like he was the victim, and the guy he got into an argument with was an asshole! I mean, the dude probably was an asshole, but still. You walk into a gym and a bunch of guys are playing full court, you don't start bugging them to switch to half-court because you want to shoot by yourself! It doesn't work that way! Maybe in Canadia, Mr. Arcade-Fire-lead-singer, but not in the U.S. of A. Go find a hoop outside somewhere or something. I mean, everyone was cheering him when he told the story, booing the "asshole jocks" who wouldn't let him shoot hoops (not "you can't play with us," but "we're not going to switch to half-court because you want to play by yourself"), and I'm sitting there thinking, "hey, wait a god damned minute here! You're in the wrong there, buddy!"

Overall, it was a fun night and a solid show. Last Arcade Fire show of this tour, so that's cool. I realized, however, that when I want to dance my ass off, what I really want is a nice funky groove. Arcade Fire is many things, most of them good, but none of them funky or groovy. When they really, really get going, really get their energy up, the best way I can describe it is "spastic." Extremely high energy and intense and passionate, no doubt about it. But instead of settling into some butt-bouncin' groovaliciousness, they all just start acting like they're watching one of those short-attention-span Japanese tv shows that caused all those people to have seizures.

My good old Seattle buddy Billy came out to the show, too; he heard one of the guys playing a French horn and commented, "hey, that guy's playing a Freedom horn!" I replied, "well, that's appropriate... they are Freedom Canadians!" Cause they're from Montreal and all. Cough.

I think I'm gonna leave it at that for now. Watch this week for my definitive review of the "Davis Experience." Until then, stay safe and always make sure you're wearing clean drawers. Pope out!

Go west, young pope

Have you ever met a new cat or dog, at someone's house or even just out on the street, and they look at you all funny, cause they can smell your cat or dog, as if to say, "you know, you look just like this hairless foodbag that I live with, but damned if you don't smell like a cat. You're the oddest lookin' feline I ever did-dun see."

I get that a lot.

Of special importance to Boros: I have heard from two different sources within the past week two facts:

1. Boros's condition is known as "Cerebellar Hypoplasia."

2. More often than not, cats with this condition are put to sleep as kittens.

Now... most of you know me. And if you haven't met Boros, you've heard about him. When I found out that most cats with his condition are put down, you can imagine my shock and horror. But, really, in the end I feel at least as sorry for the people who didn't get to experience having a kitty with special needs in their life. Cause it most definitely is their loss.

Okay, now we need to lighten the mood a bit. So get ready for THIS:

http://www.catfamily.com/chkittyclub/pages/cat_family/
-needs_home-/index.html#willow

Big news: I'm moving. Yes, yes, you all knew that. But what you didn't know is that I've decided to move to the Bay Area. I found a nice house in which to rent a room on the Bay, about 20 miles outside San Francisco proper. 10 miles north of Berkeley, less than 4 miles from the nearest BART station. In the end, there just wasn't any work in the Davis/Sacramento area. And, of course... muthafuckin San Francisco y'all! I'm sure it will be a lot easier to come visit me this way.

This has all happened in the past few weeks, and I found out that I got the room on Monday... and tomorrow will be our first night in the new place. So it's all happening really quickly. It's a good spot; I can get two rooms and my own bathroom for less than it would cost to get a small studio in SF, and there's a big enclosed yard for Boros. I keep telling him how much he's gonna love it, but he's kind of preoccupied seeing as how this will be his fifth move since last October.