Hipsters

            The hipsters have discovered my fish taco joint. Ten years later. That's alright, I know of other places they don't know about. I was taken aback when I saw them. The neighborhood demographic has shifted. I've long awaited the shift, but I didn't think it would happen all at once. Now, I find myself waiting in line with hipsters and scrutinizing their apparel. There was a leprechaun, pirate theme going on. One guy was wearing odd-looking straight-legged pants that were tight fitting around his ankles. His boots were a maroon color, Dr. Martins I was guessing. All he needed to complete the ensemble was a scarf and a turtleneck. he had that kind of look going on.
           Was I that weird in my twenties? I guess I was. Thinking back on it I wore some funny looking pants in my day. But it was still amusing to me to think the guy thought he looked cool. 

Influenza

            Sorry folks, no blog this week. I came down with a bout of influenza. Chills, fever, soreness in the muscles. It hasn't been fun at all. I can't remember the last time I've been this sick. When I was feeling the most uncomfortable and feeling sorry for myself, I'd think of the men who were skinned alive in Mongolia during World War Two. That put my discomfort in prospective. Or, I thought of being trapped in a snow storm without shelter or proper clothing. I was in a warm bed with pills and orange juice. I had it easy. All I had to do was wait it out. Four days later I'm feeling much better. I'm glad for that. The little virus had me under its spell. The microscopic underworld took hold of me, but my body fought back and thank the stars for that. 

Bacon

Breakfast, lunch, or dinner, bacon is a winner. 

Dreams

            I went to a lecture on astral projection, and now I'm keeping a dream journal. My dreams are very entertaining, but then again whose aren't? I'm glad I'm writing them down though. There are a lot of games being played in my dreams. Mostly, they're being played in the background. The games are variations of scrabble, volleyball, and basketball, close to reality but just a few ticks off. 
            I went to another lecture. This time the subject was Merlin the Magician, Greek mythology, and religion. I sat there listening when it occurred to me that dreams and religion are intertwined. The dream state is less rigid than religion of course, but religion can be just as confounding as dreams in my estimation. When I think about what people believe in and why, it becomes confusing to me. Religion is full of miracles where impossible events transpire, just like in dreams. But people think their religious beliefs are facts, and might be deeply offended by me comparing dreams to religion. To me dreams are religion. There. I said it, I meant it, and that's the way it is.

Model Trains

            I went to the the Pasadena Model Railroad Clubs open house. They have one of the largest HO model railroads in the world. They're actively seeking members, by the way.                                    

            Most of the members were older men wearing vests with patches on them. They kind of looked like bikers, but without the tattoos. These were the guys I should have been hanging out with in high school. They probably went to Cal Tech and built rockets for a living. The men had a funny way of passing notes. They'd put a note on a long stick and wave it at the person it was intended for. The men in the club were wore headphones with microphones to talk to the dispatcher, so it would take a while for them to notice they had a note waiting.
           When I walked into the building, a big smile came to my face. There were mountains and lakes, tunnels and ports, ski slopes, forests and cities. It was amazing. The amount of detail was incredible. There was a whole bank of train operators and men stationed near the tracks to fix derailments and unexpected mishaps. 
           An operator named Ron gave us the inside skinny on the operation. It wasn't just trains running willy-nilly. There was meaning and purpose behind it. It was true to life and there were economic factors that needed to be considered when a train was moving from Zion to say, McSweeney. There was cargo to be delivered. The passenger trains had the right of way just like in real life. And every train had to get clearance from a dispatcher to proceed to the next destination. It wasn't quite reality, but it wasn't a dream either. 

D.B. Cooper's Brother

            I was at the bank waiting in line, when a man walked in and stood behind me. We were the only two customers waiting. The man was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. He reminded me of the old FBI wanted posters for D.B. Cooper. 
            The tellers were taking their sweet time and there was nothing to do but look around. I noticed the man's shoes were similar to mine.
            "Did you buy your shoes at Big Five?" I asked him.
            "Yeah, $14.00. I'm not going to pay two hundred dollars for a pair Nikes. That's ridiculous."
            "I know what you mean."
            "When I was a kid, tennis shoes cost 99 cents. We'd dye them black to make them look better. Once in a while I'll buy an expensive shirt. I paid $150 for one a while back. The store threw in these pants for free."
            I looked down at his pants. Blue denim. The material looked on the thin side.
            "They've faded some now." The man reached for his belt line and flipped his pants inside-out to show me the original color of the jeans. "See look."
             "Yeah." I felt myself pull back as I looked at the man holding his belt line.
             "The only problem is the dye is turning my legs blue. I have to scrub my legs when I take my pants off. It's a pain in the ass."
           

Whirlybird

            I was visiting my friend Cheeky. It was an ordinary visit until a helicopter started to circle overhead. No big deal, it was LA. But it kept circling. Eventually my curiosity got the best of me and I looked out the window to see what was going on. There was a white truck parked in the neighbor's driveway. The truck was parked at an odd angle. It was blocking the sidewalk and sticking out into the street. There was a man standing at the back of the truck. The tailgate was down and it looked like he was holding an assault rife. He seemed to be loading it and checking it at the same time.
            "It looks like there's a man with a rifle outside," I said to Cheeky.
            Cheeky was playing words with friends on her cell phone and didn't bother to respond to my comment.
            "He has a helmet on."
            "A helmet?" The helmet piqued her interest.
            "Yeah, it's a helmet alright."
            "Let me see." Cheeky moved off the couch to peer out the window. "He does have a helmet."
            "I told you!"
            "And there's a cop blocking off the street with yellow caution tape," Cheeky said.
            "Where?"
            The man with the rifle walked away. That's when I decided to go outside to see what the heck was happening. There was a line of squad cars parked up the street. I decided to ask the cop putting up the caution tape for details. I approached him slowly. Cops are jumpy nowadays.
            "Excuse me, I don't mean to be a bother, but what's going on?"
            "Ehh, some guy attacked somebody with a brick or knife or something, he lives up the street. I don't know really, I'm just working the perimeter."
            "Oh, okay thank you."
            The cop made an impression on me; he seemed like the nicest, most normal guy in the world.