Track 49

Lot’s going on–>  Robin Williams, we sort of just realized this.
Moon and I have a special connection with Popeye, so.
Combine this with her SF memories of seeing him around town or running through the park, sprinkle in some Mork, and toss with Live at the Met (one of the best stand up specials ever).  Garnish the recollection with that Vegas show/fundraiser we saw a few years back where he basically did inappropriate things with a water bottle for 45 minutes in various personas all while getting ultra-wealthy folks to bid on island vacations and dinners with Andre Agassi.  Uncomfortably brilliant.
I have no idea who he actually was, but we were fans.
Top 5 RW Movies in no/my particular order:
 
  • Good Morning Vietnam
  • Dead Poets Society
  • Good Will Hunting
  • Mrs. Doubtfire (reluctantly added though I wish I’d had the guts to go with Cadillac Man)
  • The Fisher King

 

popeye

Track 48

When the search dogs cross your fence line thoughts get real basic-like–>  no deep questions, just “who’s out there and in here?”   When surrounded by a manhunt and a sheriff’s hiding in your ditch you focus fast on kids and forget fast about stuff. And when the chopper stares you down you’re forced to look up into your soul and ask–>
“what are my crimes?”
photo
PHOTO by Neighbor Linda 

Track 47- Battle Rap from Boom-Rang

Things been strange. So here’s an offering from my battle rap alter-ego: 

—

You think you can rain down hard on me??? No.

 

You lose, you lose again,

I drive jump then score late,

Why’d you even begin?

 

I’m from the NW, I reign.

You walk, I hike,

You’re Scottie, I’m Mike,

You sink, I swim,

Kid U shouldn’t have skipped that Y lesson,

 

I sound better than cheese tastes,

You,         sound off,

I’m grade A cubed,

You should just buzz off,

 

Splash up off of me rain, don’t you know I’m the Boom-Rang,

I’ll Aikido flip it back to you

And make your heart clang,

 

I’m like that year Griffey Jr. and Sr. played together,

I’m Kurosawa good,

A Kobe beef slider, pick-up rider, big strider-

My mind’s getting tighter & tighter & tighter

In this box think I’m a Tyson fighter,

 

But Tyson’s crazy so maybe I should bounce,

Got a baby to feed, like ounce after ounce.

 

Boom-Rang.   Time.  

 

 

 

KUROSAWA

Track 46

Withrows.  I hear the stories–> where we come from, who we are.  I feel the stories and some hurt, some heal, some are hi-larious.

And these stories help grow me/we, they have power.  Stories somehow all threaded, from those no longer with us to us still around, to the ones yet to come all tangled up.  I won’t try to unravel them, just proud to be part of the knot.

2014-07-28.jpg

 

 

PHOTO by Richard Rockwell

Track 43

Was sent a picture of the amber-yellow tents from SDA Camp Meeting & the image/senders made my brain smell way back  & then think about Pronto-Pups and Ball-Tag which sparked a memory of the gymnasium and the huge blue tarp for protecting the basketball court during the meetings which made me think of informal soccer games & this kid Taco who came every year & I wonder if that was really his name or if he’s alive now or if Water-Weenies are still a thing.   Then I hear the songs & prayers flood back & always near seems to be this youth leader with an acoustic guitar. At some point there is going to be a fire.

And I already know it’s not the same thing, but since I’m at Stommish Water Festival hosted by Lummi Nation, I get the picture on my phone & make all sorts of connections.  Because the paddle races/cultural celebration are annual & I witness shaved ice & tents & families who’ve been coming for years I see all these similarities & feel momentarily we are all related because who doesn’t like a corn-feed or revival. There is a sense at both Camp Meeting and Stommish that at any moment a teenager could get their heart broken or a man might find power beyond himself for the first time.  And it’s hard not to relate em’ when you imagine tribal members heart beating their drums & dancing under the same big tent as the youth leader who strums guitar in a ceremony where the Chief and Pastor trade vegetarian hot dogs and fry bread.

unnamed

Track 42

I can relate to or at least see a piece of myself in that storm-filled-guy glimpsed walking down Samish. Couldn’t make out words, was driving too fast, but he was pointing and yelling directly at me/everything. Chemically imbalanced or soul out of balance I wasn’t sure, but he was spitting.

I can also imagine the potential of me in the Mayor or Chris Cornell.

Without looking too hard I can see myself wearing ten year old taped-up sneakers or brand new leather Danners.

 

I am not above/below it. A choice or turn or two here or there –> a support or influence absent along the way and –> my landing spot’s not clear.

 

Am here right now about to press send and I’m either underachieving or doing a great job keeping it together.

 

AJ 4s

 

 

Track 41

We have an IKEA dresser and an antique stool.
We have Boppy pillows and Mexican spurs.
We have a copper plate, and a paper one.
We have fuzzy dice dangerously close to Tibetan prayer flags.
We have garlic and Orangina.
We have vinyl records, cassettes, CDs and digital->  We play Dixie Chicks and Beastie Boys.
We have imported olive oil and Butt Paste.
We have pottery made by family next to a Lighting McQueen kiddo-cup.
We have more cheap sunglasses and board games than needed, but we’ll take more.
We have two cowboy hats, four soccer jerseys, and one pair of light-up shoes.
We have Miles Davis hiding in our cupboard,
and you and I should know this even when we’re not here.