Thoughts on the Haight-Ashbury revolution.

The thrift store look--long fur- style coats, rags that were once scarves wrapped at waist and hair, pinned-in dreads, riotous patterns-all adds to the end of civilization feel. It’s like manufacturing has broken down and the denizens have to choose their attire from the bins. It’s a pose, a slumming posture, with no content. I love it just the same. Are they trying to provoke, do their small bit for the destruction of everything they know by clashing stripes and spots? Everyone can make a contribution in this land. Wear odd socks under your suit pants, carry a brown bag with a black belt, hell, rip off your jean pockets and let the bottoms drag on the floor. The Haight-Ashbury’s revolution is incremental. One misfit ting brick at a time will build the crookedest, most revolutionary goddamn wall of all time. Perhaps the end of civilization is a worthy aspiration?

I slough from couch to coffee waiting for my ship to come in.

Surprise, surprise, it snows in California

Get invited to a weekend in the mountains with a bunch of guys on CT90s. I don't exactly fit in. The checked-shirt host asks me "are you carrying something?" I look quizzical. I remember the line from Grease where on their first date Rizzo asks this of Kinickie in the back seat of a car. Surely not. I realise he is referring to a different type of shooting. But the bunch of good ol boys tolerate me and my strange accent well enough.