Posts Tagged ‘ Mayans ’

The coming Hippie Eupocalypse: Day “Oh who cares?”


The Hippie Eupocalypse

Rog and I are in the Family Dollar on Main to get pops
some collector’s edition toilet paper.  I grab the
biggest one of ’em I can and Rog says, “Damn, that’s $9.50.”

I said, “I know but it’s the best value.”  Rog doesn’t want
anything for his 50th birthday, at least not from Family
Dollar.  Hell, it was like pulling teeth trying to get him in
the store with me.  Rog is my pops’ brother but he never
officially adopted me as a nephew so I just call him Rog.

Trouble at the counter, the computers are fucking with me
again.  First, the scanner won’t read Rog’s Turtles candy bar
and the girl behind the counter fiddles around, first with
the candy bar, then tries punching in the numbers, then tries
scanning again a couple times.  Finally, she reaches over the
counter and grabs another Turtle and it scans.

I go to swipe my pass card on the reader and it’s cranked up
against the register and my card won’t slide right.  I try it
from the bottom and it reads.  I go to punch in my PIN and the
girl pushes the reader down and I hit the wrong digits and panic.
I let out a groan and the girl says, “Sorry!

I say, “No problem, not your fault…  I was just trying to
punch in my PIN when you moved the reader.  It’s the machine’s
fault.”  Rog and I grab our goods and I head off in the wrong
direction for the door.

Rog says, “The door’s this way Mike.”

I reply, “See, I told you to come in with me.  I’d have gotten
lost and had another panic attack.  And you didn’t want to come
in with me.”

Pops, doesn’t feel much like drinking, says he’s been sick for
three days, but Rog and I are by the liquor store so we stop
to get a bottle.  Rog won’t come in again and I’m not gonna
argue with him so I head into the store by myself, leaving Rog
in the minivan listening to the radio.

The girl at the liquor store says, “Hi!”  I’d only seen her
there one time before but she seems to recognize me.

I say, “Hi!” back at her and look behind the counter at the
liquor bottles.  They put all the hard liquor behind the
counter a couple months ago because too many people were
stealing.  The Evan Williams isn’t on sale any more so I ask
for a fifth of Kessler’s.  That’s pops’ usual brand anyway, it’s
alright I guess, but I would have preferred the Evan.

Rog is in the minivan, zoning out when I come out with the
Kessler’s.  The doors are locked and I can’t get in.  Rog
fumbles around and I point to the lock switch and he flips it.
I get in and Bob Seger is still playing Ole Time Rock ‘n’ Roll
on the radio.  Time is moving slow again so I bang my chronometer
on the dashboard.

We’re listening to the radio about to turn on Jefferson when I
see the soy bean trucks going in and out of the processing plant.
There’s no hurry now on the narrow stretch to Huckabuck, just
take it slow and let them do their things.  A tune pops into
my head, a fragment of a new one.  I sing:

“The GMOs are running slow on Jefferson today…” as we’re going
over the railroad tracks and Rog pipe’s in with another fragment:

“With the old soy beans laying across the tracks
Hope that trains full of women
‘Cause I’m tired of going in men’s backs…”

Rog, it’s at moments like these when I realize just why I love
Rog & pops and Downertown.

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The Blue Gate, Life and a somewhat random facebook status.


My dream is to make a living wage doing something I love to do for as long
as it gives me joy. I don’t desire riches, in fact I fear them. Fame is a
fleeting friend. But waking up every day knowing that come what may, I will
be grateful for whatever comes my way…

I have what I require in the way of food, shelter, medicine and basic
transportation. (Praise Gumbytron for the use of my sister’s old minivan
which is still running) But concert tickets once a summer would be nice.
Yeah I’d like more, but at least once a summer. Oh yeah and a way to get
there. Thanks Manvir for Furthur last summer, the bus trip there and back
was quite a journey.

Where was I. Oh yeah, it started with a simple question in my noggin.
Am I crazy because I believe it is the right of every human being to be
treated as such when they are actively engaged in doing something that she
loves, that also benefits those around her, should she not expect that for
her efforts on behalf of humanity that she be entitled to a living wage?

Oh fool’s talk! Let’s talk Manchester United, Marc, how is their season going?
(aside to a Facebook friend)

Concert tickets for New Year’s, eh, we may not see New Year’s, I’ll probably
be down at Lake Hope for the Mayan Solstice. The Blue Gate that Knight Chris
and Knight Derek opened in the woods there will be open for three days.

Gumbytron has instructed me that I must remain at the gate but I can’t leave
until everyone is done passing through those 72 hours (give or take a few
nanoseconds) The system will never elminate the human element. That is why
it is called an element. So we must rely on technicians in Snadragon (in a
near parallel universe to operate the controls, for which they are handsomely
compensated, I  might add) during the aperture of the Blue Gate.

OK, perhaps the beginning of my earlier phrasing “Am I crazy…” maybe a moot
point after the revelation of my Mayan Solstice plans. But I have a big
problem on my hands. You see, I don’t know where the Blue Gate is exactly
as I was having back trouble and couldn’t make the hike from the campsite in
2001 and listened to Bluegrass Music for three hours while Knight Chris and
Knight Derek went on the quest that I had sent them on to open the Blue Gate
to Snadragon. And Knight Chris and Knight Derek have jobs and families and
responsibilities now and may not be able to make it to help me find the way
back to the Blue Gate.

But, I will go nonetheless. See how much it costs to rent a cabin. Gumbytron
instructed me to stay near the gate for three days but by Pokemon I don’t
have to freeze my nuts off doing it. Probably can’t afford a three night stay,
though. Be happy if I could afford one night but hey rates may be cheap.
Don’t own a tent. Maybe I could borrow Knight Chris’s. Don’t believe that
Knight Derek has a tent. Or sleep in the minivan and turn on the heat every
couple hours.

The things we do for faith in our own dreams…

Listen to this reading of my new poem:

a happy idiot

 

my book Space Christals is available on Amazon

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