From Here to…somewhere

After Mr. Binzen’s visit an investigation of the online documentation of his early nineties “Desert Siteworks” prompted an “interrogation of my feelings” concerning “Everything That Was Lame About the Seventies”…not to mention the bullshit of the Burnocracy, although given how definitively they mimic the worst aspects of those halcyon post-hippie days it was hard to believe they didn’t both happen twenty years earlier.  My time would have been better spent watching paint dry as with the heat persisting it remained excellent paint-drying weather.

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Other things to think about besides the Stupid Seventies [and the People Who Never Left Them], like watching Hilary trump Trump [not that our imbecile electorate is likely to suss THAT out], were diverting

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… until L. was finished with her last round of grad students, which allowed us a revel of seafood drunken noodles as the yard slowly cooled.

Tuesday, hot again,

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the crew [Scott and Shawn] were in, to weld and grind the day away.

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Next morning, Linda’s birthday, comes up breezy

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and much much cooler…

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but nonetheless rather limbo-like until the shuttle collects us at 2:30

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to cross the windy bay and

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south to SFO,

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where we stay until seven…

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then, after ten hours in a giant humming tube;

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Oh, well, and more to tell…

M

 

7 thoughts on “From Here to…somewhere

  1. Michael Sykes

    I get it, Benicia to London. And from there . . . ? And happy birthday to Linda. We all have them, don”t we, or had them? 2016 has been the year that I entered the zone of recognition that, yes, people I know, or knew, are dropping like flies around me–or, in the early stages–like the occasional leftover summer fly buzzing around me as winter approaches. I’ve only been to Britain once, in 1980, but still have my maps of the Outer Hebrides just in case I ever get the chance. Devon, Cornwall, the Isle of Skye–those are my reference points.

    Reply
  2. Janet

    I just love the way you capture Benicia. You really need to produce a line of postcards. If you want to pretend you are in Venice instead of London, Pulpo in Soho…..

    Reply
    1. mikesmoore Post author

      Strange to say, our host left for the True Venice about five hours before our journey back. Ah, Venezia!

      Reply

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