I took pictures, and I called 911, who put me through to the fire department. Five minutes later we had a crew of firefighters tromping into zappos. Brook said that he figured it was my call...

I showed them where the problem was, and came back. I guess the Zappites were laughing at the whole thing. Laughing with more an 'at' then 'with' me sort of laugh.

I made a random survey of my coworkers. "Do you take me seriously?" The _best_ response that I got was 'some times,' while Matt's 'Hardly' won for most succinct.

Oh well. Back to what I wrote on the bus, in the morning, because Nick told me I should write on the bus in order to provide random entertainment for him.

Just making conversation, 'nice vest, where do you get a vest like that? I see those a lot, not just like that, but, you know, like that, and I ask, but they never tell me. They're cops, you know.'

Just making conversation. Get to the pitch, something about 'where are you going, I'll give you a ride, it's just, there's a meter maid about to tow my car away, need some bucks for gas.'

I need some bucks for gas, but I am shit faced drunk at 8:00 in the morning, so will you drive? Thanks.

No more cynicism. It is boring. Real experiences. Like, this morning (Tuesday) I slept in, till 7:30 or something, got ready, cleaned off the guest bed, covered in photo gear and miscellaneous geekly items, had a pbj sandwich, hugged my kids, kissed my wife, and drove to the Rhonert Park expressway park and ride. A little nervous, thought I was late, didn't want to miss the bus, what is my plan if I miss the bus, humming Dan Bern's song "Marilyn Monroe" while I went, maybe drive into Petaluma, which stop? Hmmm. What will I do, Mom is going to pick me up at work, need to take the bus, QUIET.

quiet. Calm. TRAnquility. Let the voices still within.

Oh that is better.

I didn't miss my bus.

I just couldn't find a parking spot at the park and ride. So I got on the freeway and drove into Petaluma. Stopped at the first bus stop that I saw, parked on the street by the other commuters, said hello to my fellow travelers, and then the bus came.

"I don't even know if she knew Henry Miller."

Friday I drove to work. Got in at 1:00. Worked. Cleaned up my 500 email in box. Then as evening came I went down to the car to put away my briefcase and computer.

I was robbed. They took our CD's and KZST coupon book, some other misc. shit, but not the fundraising sees chocolate in the back. I decided that my car was not the most secure place, put my stuff in the office, put my camera, batteries, extra memory card and tooth brush into my pocket, and walked to Slim's, 333 11th Ave, to see Dan Bern.

Good show, lots of thoughts. Had some nachos and two beers. Got a bit of a buzz on, watched the magic of all of the lights. Got out of the show at 1:00 am. Walked toward jeff cleary's place in the mission. He called. 'Where are you?'

I'm at 13th and whatever, taking pictures of the moon."

Got to his place, and we talked. Not to overuse the term, but it was a 'fun' evening.

'fuck you you fucking fuck you.'

fuck cynicism. move to the bright side.

Jeff and I compared our pictures of homeless people. My happy couple didn't stack up, they had too many of their own teeth, but my street stripper scored. "That is the most disgusting thing that I have ever seen" opined Jeff.

We stayed up until 3:00, talking, then I stayed up a bit later, maybe until 4:00, reading. My alarm went off at 8:10. Too soon too soon, went down on madonna too soon. Whoops. more dan bern lyrics coming through, this time from Tiger Woods.

I got a friend whose goal in life
Was to one day go down on Madonna
That's all he wanted
That was all
To one day go down on Madonna
And when my friend was thirty-four
He got his wish in Rome one night
He got to go down on Madonna
In Rome one night in some hotel
And ever since he's been depressed
'Cause life is shit from here on in
And all our friends just shake their heads
And say, "Too soon, too soon, too soon,
He went down on Madonna too soon
Too young, too young, too soon, too soon"

The alarm spewed. I got up, made the bed, left jeff a note, and staggared towards the office.

Got to the car, paid to get out, called heather. she suggested that she bring in the kids, that I go to the zoo, 'look, if you come home you are just going to sit around, go somewhere.'

My mom thought it was a smart move. On heather's part. get me and the kids, 'the messy club' out of the house. then the house won't be trashed.

it worked.

I went to George's Zoo Market, stood around, 'can I help you' we settled on bagel, toasted, cream cheese, I bought a root beer. sat in the car, dozed, ate, read. cleaned up the theft ravaged car.

Then heather showed up, and we switched cars, and I took the kids to the zoo. Rented a wagon, Maddy's 'carriage' and pulled them around. We went to the kids zoo, they had fun, we had lunch, went into the rain forest exhibit, saw polar bears and seals and kangaroos, they played on the play ground, and then we left.

what if you could move blocks of meaning like symbols, like tinkertoys, whole sections of life experience could be touched and sorted and placed into context like cotton balls by the side of the road.

reading the paper on the bus, all the eyes on the same pages, same stories, turn the pages in unison. experiences, dreams, memories of media onslaught and poems poorly memorized and long forgot, bubbles up.

Saturday, got home, the kids took a nap, I wrote my gallery.cgi code. show photo galleries. I'm having trouble lots of trouble with the process of selection. of presentation. what is a presentation, how do you tell a compelling narrative with still images?

Really? How? Turn it into a 'movie' with a voice over thing happening? Images and spoken word, sound effects. pop in a tape and you have the world according to me.

Told Jeff about my idea to write a screenplay on a road trip. He is into writing a screenplay about a road trip. Slightly different thing, but I think it would be cool, either way.

everything is cool. Fragments of thought, little t-ons cluster and bump across their mate, across the neurons of time little t-ons trudge and fudge.

"Tie her to the bed and Eat dinner off of her"

Riding the later bus means that I am awake. Alert. I see and experience. Maybe I write. Sure I'm a morning person, for sufficiently late definitions of 'morning.'

The phone rang. "I'll get it. Hello, hold on. Honey, it's ..."

"Tell her I'm not home."

"She can hear you!"

pause. "In that case, tell her to fuck off."