Wednesday, August 28, 2013

I would work there

"Hey man, wanna go to the inconvenience store and pick up some beers?"

"Eh. Not really."

"Why not?"

"It's just so far away. And you have to climb those damn library ladders to get to the top shelves. And the fucking store clerk always makes you answer riddles before he'll tell you where anything is."

"Yeah, but he's always got the best stuff."

"Sigh. Alright. Let me go get my hiking boots and flashlight."

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Shit Just Got Real

Wow.

There is a lot of shit going on.
I unfortunately do not have time to adequately cover all the shit that is going down, so it must suffice for now that I say, it is mostly good shit, but crazy, and scary.

I just wanted to check in and let you know I still love you, and will resume regularly scheduled programs once shit gets a little less real.

-I Out

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

The Smells of New York City

I am a connoisseur of fine air. It is one of my favorite consumable substances, and I am extremely sensitive and picky about the quality of air I allow to pass my nostrils- if I can help it.

For example, I just came back from a vacation to the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina. The air at the particular place I was staying was exquisite. Some of the finest air I've ever had. Clean and wet and slightly metallic when the mists rolled in, or on clear days,  almost scentless, but with a subtle energy, a substance to them that was so alive and healthy I began to imagine what it must be like for yogi's to live off of air alone, buy chewing and digesting it with special breathing. Almost like a wine taster savoring and sipping and chewing the wine.

And now, the second leg of the journey, New York, New York, is the total opposite. My refined sniffer's sense detects the unsubtle and gorge rising smell of human feces on the steps up and down the subway. As I walk down the street I am befouled with the scent of anaerobic bacteria from garbage, the sickly sweet scent of wet garbage, that makes me want to rinse my nose like it's touched something diseased. Or perhaps if I'm lucky  I just get the comparatively mild base smell of New York City, smog, slowly coating my sinuses and lungs in dark grey soot. Of course there are the ubiquitous smokers, and the retched, clawing, choking scent of second hand smoke. And occasional blasts of warm air and fast food or dirty steam from a manhole.

This is one of the reasons I don't see myself ever living in New York.
It is also one of the few ways I admit to being stuck up.
I admit it: I'm an air snob.

But oh god, the pleasure of fresh air, just cleaned by rain and charged with the tang of a thunderstorm. Or the almost erotic breeze, slightly warm and touched with humidity, on a summer night. As long as the air is good, it's a nice thing to really enjoy breathing. But it does have this down side, when you're living in a garbage dump.


That's all I have time for. I must run to my class. I'll talk more about it when I have time, ergo, after the class, and after the next thing I'm doing immediately preceding this class (Gencon.)

It's been a busy vacation.