Soup

            I went to the Japanese market today. I sat down and had some udon soup and tempura shrimp before I did some shopping. I think I may have been Japanese in a past life. I have a real kinship for the culture. However, I also have an affinity for the Korean culture. I like things that are pickled. Kimchi. I like dogs that have the name Pickles. I like sauerkraut. 

             I did some research on Dashi. I read the boxes to check the ingredients. There was a lot of variation. Some had chemicals and some didn’t. I have it in mind to make udon soup at home someday, but I can’t ever just buy something. I have to research it over and over before I make a decision. I do that with everything. I’ll go back and check the udon noodles next. It’s a lot of work for a bowl of soup.  

Occupy

I caught a cold. It’s been a while since I’ve had an affliction. It’s slowing me down some. When I was a kid I’d stuff my pockets with vitamin C and tissue paper and call myself good. Nothing could slow me down then. I was a lot tougher in those days. Back then the smog alone could burn a hole in you, but that’s another story for another day.

I’m thinking of taking my guitar down to city hall to occupy. I’d like to voleenter my services to keep things moving. The state of the world is such that in some instances the political right and the political left are converging. I’m not talking about politicians. Politicians are in their own coin-operated world. All you have to do is slip them some money and they’ll spit out what ever you tell them to. I’m talking about the proletariat, and the bourgeoisies. It’s getting to the point that on some issues such as banks and corruption there’s commonality. I’ve never seen it like this before. That’s when you know the aristocrats are digging their own grave. The only thing the aristocrats understand and respond to is money. When the workingman gets hip to that fact, I mean really hip, that’s when the sea will turn into an ocean. 

 

I Don't Speak the Language

I stayed in for most of the day. When I finally left the house I looked down at my shoes and I realized I was still wearing my slippers. I remedied the problem and went on my way.

            It has occurred to me that Los Angeles is full of want to be’s. They come here from all over the world and take on a strange insecure approach to life. A simple email can turn into a calamity. It’s asking too much for a response. Maybe it’s the way of the world now a days and I’m out of touch, but when I was growing up your word was golden. Folks don’t even try to be polite anymore. That would be too easy, you have to stretch it out, make a game of it, use your power. A simple email can turn into a sexual escapade in an instant. Being communicative is almost like making a pass. It’s nuts! The thing about it is, the real people, the nice people, the cool people, the people who should be movie stars, the people who are polite in Los Angeles often times don’t speak the language.