Monday, December 16, 2002

Liquid soul liquid life viscous immersion. Insight outside downbeat upside fickle failing fool. capitalize, localize, marginalize, circumcise. Kerblooie foom. Stoom.

Sometimes I need word play to get the writing wheels greased. I'm feeling a little tired today. Morning workout went well. Had no problems getting up. And I was very engaged most of the day in gym class. Maybe that's it. I'm tired from work. Strange for desk jockey me. Reporter's job was not physically stressful, but worked the brain something fierce. I'd get home and sit in the dark without any other stimulus. The refrigerator hum my mantra as the bouncy electricity stress worked its way out of my fingertips with each breath. Or at least that's what I'd visualize the stress as, little blue bolts, like the cover of an AC/DC album, jutting from my fingers. This vision of dancing, crackling energy calmed me. Now I feel no need to visualize.

I'm really jazzed about my tune, "So Damn Tired." I think it is the best complete song I've ever written. Of course, I've only been composing on guitar since November, but on the second try I've hit gold. It is all I wanted in the first place, a catchy, easy-to-play but original pop sounding tune. That's what I worked towards and have achieved. I can't wait to play this at open stage. Now I debate whether to shoot for Kryptonite or debut it at Lungo's Landing. I think I'll try Lungo's first. Easy, small crowd. This is the second wave of my open stage metamorphosis. I've got to show improvement. "So Damn Tired" will turn some heads.

It has been about a month since I performed at Open Stage. I played twice at Lungo's Landing and once at Mary's Place. I really stank at Mary's Place, so would like to go back and do that. Maybe have to buy my own acoustic pickup so I can play my guitar there. At Lungo's Landing they provide it. Kryptonite is the classiest place. The creme de la creme of the Rockford open stages. I'd like to be really polished when I debut there.

I thought about getting temporary work for the holidays, but with all the visiting that goes on decided against it. Friday I will miss work because we are going to N. Minnesota to attend Esther's grandmother's funeral. We're riding with John in his brand new Honda Civic. Carl is flying up from Nashville and will join in the car. John warned me the ceiling is lower and I may have to duck my head. Hope my neck holds up. Shouldn't be that bad. Those cautious Larsons mentioned the low car ceiling twice in two weeks. I'm not that tall. After Thursday I won't work again until Jan. 6.

I had an interesting conversation with my father-in-law Saturday night. I complimented him by saying he has done a good job taking care of himself since his heart attack. He laughed and said something like, "A lot of good it will do me. My time on this earth is short." I told him the mind is the most powerful weapon you have against disease and that a fatalistic attitude can kill you. We've had this conversation before, and he opens himself up to it, as if testing my reaction. He strikes me as a very melancholy man. And his son, Trent, is the same way. They are both very cautious men who must have complete control and order in their lives. And because no one can control their world completely, Dad and Trent worry a lot. They keep their emotions bottled up, would never allow themselves to express anger. In short, they are very Scandinavian. Open communication does not come naturally to these men.

All the cogs are in place for a reunion with college friends Todd Stanley, Mark Lamb and Shawn Robinson (Goat) the 27th. I have not seen Mark in over two years. About five-six years ago those dudes were the center of my social universe at NIU. We all partied together at the Goat Palace and had many adventures and bullshit sessions. I see(Goat) all the time, Todd seasonally, and haven't seen Mark in two years. We will go to the Rockford Goat Palace for much beer and politicking.

I want to cover my walls with maps. Tape will ruin the maps. Don't know if that ticky tacky stuff will work. Also would like to enlarge some of the cooler nature photos I've taken over the years. We've got Christmas lights up and the banged up small fake tree that used to belong to my parents. Mom used to display it on a table at Sahara. The living room is cluttered with boxes. We now have a couch, a loveseat from my parent's basement. Mom, very astute, asked if we were planning another trip because I asked to "borrow" the couch. So we let it be known we plan to do the Pacific Crest Trail in 2004. Ken urges me to seek corporate sponsorship to fund the trip. Hmmm...

But, yeah, I'd like to hike the PCT. And Esther seems as eager as I. I think she's up to the PCT because her worst problems on the AT were steep downhills. That won't be a problem, we hear, on the PCT, because the trail is graded for horses and rises and descends much slower. One of Esther's worst fears is allayed. The real challenge to doing the PCT is the five month northbound thru-hiking season, forcing the thru-hiker to average 15 miles a day. Going light it should not be too hard. But, hey, 15 miles each and every day. Whew! That'll be a toughie.

We are now in save mode, trying to squirrel away fundage before April of next year. That can't be any harder than hiking 15 miles a day.

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