This summer we went all the way down to Hell’s Gate by way of going up.
Then we came back.

This summer we went all the way down to Hell’s Gate by way of going up.
Then we came back.

Last cleaned out lunch of the Kinder-Year &
it amazes/confuses/surprises me this someone who sometimes misses big moments & some big signs & then some little something like a last lunchbox somehow sums it up.
Markers in time that slap me up.
It’s fast. It’s crazy out here. It’s summer.

Hey look- check it-
You probably never had it, so let me explain
I got tap-able strength fills each vein,
So saddle up to my class, oh wait! you can’t,
You chapped, lapped, in North Cascades without a Map,
Curl up take a nap &
dream how sweet it could have been to be Free Me,
Then never wake up,
Juicy, that’s what they call me when superlatives run out,
Got to start using other tongues in fact, globally stacked-
Noblesse, Grandeza, Forte + Estupendo = Asombroso you loco
to think for even a minute you win,
Subtract you
any where any language any time
every line
it’s a sign
you(s) mine
starting now,
Ending never.
BOOM-RANG. My Time.


OK I can say it, I was wrong. I wanted to get down a message to the Buff kind of calling BS on myself for unsubscribing from your email list (on both my accounts) Friday. Macklemore/Ryan Lewis, this stuff gets emotional.

Sometimes you just hate the picture, not the people in it.

# 101, a sampling of what’s happened for me since #1:
-Got my parents to watch Pearl Jam 20 (all the way through)
-Was mailed music & a GP sticker
-Received poems back
-Became aware that I should be aware of a bear escape route
-Sent Sitting Bull quotage & The Far Side & Griffey!
-Let some things go, got some things back
-My Uncle Rich checked out CCR
-Exchanged movie & music recommendations
-Dusted off the boxing gloves
-Began figuring out how to participate in a video call without 100% awkwardness (more like 72% now)
-Acquired a recipe
-Seahawks Superbowl Win (thinking not a coincidence)
-Got some push back/forward + Solid Advice (appreciated it all)
-Learned a Family Recipe
-Inherited old matchbooks from the White House
-Haunting Seahawks Superbowl loss (thinking not a coincidence)
-Given Comedy endorsements
-Had a second kid
-Battle Rap Persona coming out party
-Honored
Wesley Withrow

I did not know or ever meet Malik Taylor, but Phife Dawg and voice will always be branded on my brain-soul.

OK it’s time. Howard Schultz can suck it. How could someone who helped create such an empire be so small? I mean Starbucks coffee is fine and the brand blew up sure, but that guy sold out this community. Hard.
Remember that scene in Pulp Fiction when Bruce Willis goes back into the dark labyrinth for the family watch–> Howard didn’t go back for the watch. He sold it cheap to others and messed with things of cultural import to me + financial significance/jobs for others × many + I’m still mad = I don’t often or lightly throw dirt on a name you feel, but this petty peddler of admittedly fine brew and seemingly fine worker benefits sold me out. He sold us.
I got SuperSonics garb for Christmas and gave Big Smooth a low-five, somehow went to a bar with my Dad and TJ’s with Friends to watch these games, rubbed elbows with Microsoft and Pearl Jam legends at a few, got my non-sporting friend to go up to Jack Sikma for an autograph, saw greatness, experienced loss.
I know it’s a game, but it’s a beautiful game. And I miss it. I’ve been upset before but am now mostly ’cause Howard won’t address/acknowledge/talk at all about it. Come on and speak on this man. And I know deep down this is a waste of my madness but I’m still mad and he’s still rich and will continue to grow richer and they serve Starbucks at the Hawks’ games now and then that makes me mad all over again
but then I get to eat on my own richy rich cake thinkin’ about when they make the not-that-interesting book or the so-so movie about your life’s work, the one starring fake smile average joe actor, the Sonics will be part of that movie. You failed to be a care taker. You plum failed.
Green and Gold will forever be part of the story-line of your enigma filled legacy with Seattle.
It’s where I’ve got to be, up on my magic carpet riding, a tomahawk jam in your facial, kismet on your futures. It’s how I make sense of the anger.
It’s not at all right Lenny Wilkens & GP have no rafters for their numbers to hang in.
You’re on every corner Howard, answer us.