Track 240

It’s been a bit, so impossible to capture it all but you should know we’re getting over Flag/State mode and moved into Track/Field mode. Hoop dreams coming. Daughter in the orchestra and our Head and the Heart was with symphony. Time changes and scratch brownies. Sip and Singo. Ruckus. Majestic clouds and stars that shoot have looked down on us this past stretch. Stretch also withstood driving and square pyramid lessons. WNBA CBA! Good-night—–> the Seahawks won a Superbowl since I last tracked. We have Lego flowers now, rosemary muffins still. Self driving-ride, and questions about that ride. A Summit not climbed but traveled to. Bikes dusted off. We crashed the Moth and the Glow Dance. Rony Seikaly. Earbuds key. We critique survivors and the wind critiques us. Nosotras escuchamos musica. Alysa Liu, Shiffrin, Lollobrigida and King Klaebo. Newspaper articles and homemade posters. And I know I should use some paragraph breaks or bullet points but our stories can get paused, blended and built up and up ’til sprayed out straight all at once. Like Mad Max and Will the Wise we are up and sometimes upside down. We keep just trying to be heroes in our world(s). Life Force Ninja, chemistry, violin tuning lessons and starting to garden. Sickness and blisters. Bantum chicken, Massaman curry. Flood. I’m sure I missed some thing(s) in this super-paragraph. I track what/when I can.

Track 239

My backpack is loaded.

I’m the guy on the trip who’s got a binder-clip or single straw with a deck of cards and zip-ties.

You could find rubber bands/gloves, a blade or two and even a spare stake in my pack. Several pens plus a minimum of one headlamp. You want a hair tie–> bald guy coming at you with five asking what color you like.

First aid kit obviously, but everyone has one of those. I’m talking about helping someone in desperate need with a golf ball, glowstick or drumstick sized piece of driftwood. I don’t even golf or rave or drum but I’ve got ’em.

I’m almost certain there is a forever stamp in my bag and I’m positive there’s a wristband. Reader glasses and a pack of gum and various rocks from various missions. Sharp stuff, chewy stuff, fun stuff and memory stuff.

I’m prepared in an orderly and possibly misguided way. Often I don’t use most of the stuff I bring, but I’ve saved people with a bandana or portable speaker. Saved myself way back with an actual map and compass. Body  Slide in the side pouch has made a difference. 

In my backpack are spare sunglasses and two types of gloves. I’ve got a matchbook from a place I’ve never been.

Oh you got your socks wet? Here’s some more. That charger you desire–> good chance I got it. Reach in and grab the sticker or snack you need.

There are a lot of things I don’t have figured out or properly packed up. But my bag is not one of them. I’m transitioning to a new one after 2+ decades but they both do their job and are ready to give what is in them. One has touched White Desert sand, and the other Cascade snow. Like I said, loaded.

That mini-football you covet and those plyers you need. Screw driver set, a mouth harp and batteries. 

Sharpies? Yep. Pre-prepaired.

Water or Gatorade Zero? In there too. Open the zippers.  I’m hydrating fools. With my backpack.

Track 238

I finally figured out the plot.

I am the scene setter 8 out of 10, and 15 % of the time I’m the scene stealer. Once in awhile I’m an agent or I like to be sound engineer.

Regardless of the numbers I’m going to need you to do your(s) and show up to set if this whole production is going to work. Ovations are not just given out freely, and even an amazing actor is not enough. It takes a crew.

Track 235

I dig and am continually fascinated by rainbows.  The real ones. I know you can sometimes create the effect with a spray bottle and the right light or a prism tool, but those are momentary and coerced.   I’m talking about the ones only the perfect sky and rain and sun placement provide us.

I’ve become sort of an expert on finding them and knowing when they are coming.  I’m a rainbow hunter armed with eyeballs and wonder. When I see the sunstreaks and angled skywater mixed I get excited. Demanding them even sometimes when I see the conditions are right and cursing the sky if they don’t show up.  We live in a good spot for rainbows.

Each one, or two if lucky are still novel to me.  I haven’t outgrown them. I’ve tried but can never get to the end of one.  Every time I arrive where I’m sure it’s landing it just appears farther off arching down to a new place.  And it’s risky to chase and try touching the rainbow because I might lose it altogether and wish I’d just stayed in the first spot to admire.

Track 234   BOOM-RANG BATTLE RAP

It’s been a long time since Boom-Rang made an appearance. But he’s been lurking.

__________________

you’re a little flea,

flea is tiny already but you’re more little

spital and brittle I toss on that griddle,

no riddle you fiddle/widdle away your time.

No rhyme. 

Everybody in town knows you don’t have much worthwhile to say.   And by town I mean earth. you talk a lot but about a little.

Said I’d griddle you.

Speaking of cooking I cook.

I pack lunches in bunches.

If we were on Iron Chef I’d get bow after bow and you’d get booted off before the first commercial.   Judges are like “wow we’ve never had to do that” but no one feels bad.  Even your neighbors at the potluck wouldn’t eat your trash if it was the last Tupperware left.

I’m always over you

never under you,

you’re in the mud on your back

’cause my lines give that smack

you lack,

somebody get a sack

and sweep you up.

you’re dust.

A miniscule puny insignificant piece of dust.

So dust they used that sick lemon spray to wipe you up and even the spray was like ” daaamn what’d we do to deserve this?” And the counter cheers “yeaaah we don’t have to touch you anymore!”

Always find me winning that dot,

hard fought,

except for the fingers like Ronnie Lott

on spot watching you rot,

a barrel hitch knot

gets you bound and caught,

word onslaught

blast through all you got,

I know it’s a lot.

I’m good luck chuck. You just suck. Suck so bad lollipops at the check out aisle hiding so you don’t buy ’em.

See sticks and stones, linebackers and drones will break bones but words will never hurt me. But they will you.

you’re that board game no one wants to play because the directions are too long and you’re wrapped in plastic.  I’m Scrabble fool.

Learn up  I’m 100% authentic Boom-Rang,

you just fake Vera Wang

CK- CLANG- CLANG   pitiful.

Erased you out my face/space.

Boom-Rang.  Time.