Category Archives: dreams

Two One’s To Know By

On the night of January 20th, there is a very real possibility that there will be hip hop at the Inaugural Ball and that those attending could be getting their swerve on to some thick beats. If it happens, it would be the first time that the party in the White House is bumping the same soundtrack that is heard all over the rest of D. C.. Just think of it, the music that has served as voice for those who don’t have one, will finally be heard on Pennsylvania Avenue.

For the last eight years it has been difficult to conceive of the President as a man who has the future in mind, but one look at Barack’s two beautiful daughters assures us that the new guy is going to be different. Although perilous circumstances provided the context for his ascension to power, it will be comforting to know that those kids are there to affect the decisions he makes.

I am absolutely certain that we can trust President Obama to act on the behalf of his children and not his parent. The responsibility of raising kids is both humbling and empowering at the same time, much like the presidency, and small actions can be magnified exponentially. It can safely be assumed that Mr. Obama, an obviously bright individual, has considered this as a parent, and now as he prepares to move into the Oval Office.

When we don’t use vision to look forward with hope, toward the outcome of our choices, the results often turn out poorly. It’s a new dawn folks and for the first time in years people are encouraged to take on their bad circumstances with a genuine belief that things stand a chance of being different later. We hoped for change and now it is here, and because of it we are all obliged to look beyond the obvious, toward conquering the impossible. Good luck Mr. President.

Down For The Keebler Kind

When I turned the T.V. on at six a.m. last Monday morning the screen was filled with the dramatic live images of a multi home fire that transcended spectacular. Three homes on the so called “Street of Dreams” had been completely consumed by the magnificent flames that roared into the sky, a fourth was nearly gutted and the fifth failed to ignite, leaving a wealth of evidence for the ATF and FBI boys to cull through. Immediately I knew that the Northwest’s #1 homegrown eco-terror group the Earth Liberation Front had struck again.

Their name is a misnomer. Really they should call themselves the Arson Liberation Front, because the only thing set free by their actions are some wicked flames. Fires that are rivaled only by the ones that supposedly burn down in Hell’s incendiary pit. If in fact these guys really want to liberate the Earth from human oppression they need to take up arms and start killing people. No joke, ELF should grow a pair and make it happen for real. There are many whose actions and decisions, Nature herself might consider as a personal effrontery. Get with it ELF.

Arson is a passive aggressive crime. Arsonists sneak in during the night to avoid confrontation and any rational challenge to their flawed reasoning. Setting a home gloriously ablaze makes for great television, but is hardly the way to rally the public behind a cause. Of course overly zealous cops/prosecutors/judges, along with Patriot Act style lawmaking is really all of the reason needed to avoid getting snatched up by the mechanical claw of the Federal Judiciary System.

ELF members are even more illogical and self righteous than the typical, run of the mill, granola types who clutter up the Northwest. Unlike many who believe that their worldview is morally superior and who aggressively push their ideology, ELF members have determined that the path to societal change is not by challenging the status quo with logic and reason, instead they create stupendous burning effigies of the culture that they revile.

Down in Portland right now there is a 34 year old ELF member named Tre Arrow who is facing life in prison for torching a bunch of cement mixers. Such heavy handed prosecution could only come about in the post 9/11 world. This guy foolishly placed himself in the crosshairs of an overly zealous legal system with his stupid, stupid actions. Now any opportunity that he might have had to make the world a better place is slipping away, along with his freedom.

Burn down hundred’s of homes with sleeping families in them in a suburb somewhere and then I will begin to think about being impressed by the beautiful flames that the ELF creates. That day will never arrive, because The Earth Liberation Front is the kind of faux terrorist group would never be willing to stage an actual legitimate attack against the American culture. ELF members need to remind themselves that making war against people is how you quash ideas that are unacceptable, and that if you make war by burning empty, model homes, it seems to indicate displeasure with some aspect of real estate, perhaps a hatred for the actual homes themselves.

Just think what could actually be accomplished if America wakes to the headline “Thousands Gone In Overnight Fire Bombings, L.A. Suburbs On High Alert”. Crawls on CNN and MSNBC would announce: “President To Address Nation About Fire Bombings” and “Country On High Alert Against Eco Terror Threat”. If things went really well the cause might get its own special eco terror, color coded, threat level thermometer. It is up to ELF members, the so called renegades against the American dreams and ideals to really jiggle America’s Fear/Change Throttle. So much can be accomplished when people think you are as serious as a murder and if they know that you are as serious as a mass murder it could really help change their minds about respecting the environment.

Worst Opening Move Ever

 “Anything to make you smile. You are the ever living ghost of what once was.”

From the song No One’s Gonna Love You by Band of Horses. 

The postmark says February 16th.

The return address is stamped on the upper left hand corner of the envelope, with the name and booking number filled in with a pencil, and it reads;

Name  Frank Kent – AKA Felix

Bkg. # 207002656 

King County Correctional Facility

500 Fifth Ave.

Seattle, WA 98104- 2332

And it is also addressed in pencil;

To The Gurl With Black Hair & 1 Blond StreekWho Works At:

City Market 1722 Bellevue

Seattle, WA 98122

Underneath the return address, also written in pencil, is a message for the mail carrier;

Dear, Mister Postman if This letter Gets lost Please Send it 2 Heaven Because it Belongs To A Angel

Inside are two notes written with red ink on wide rule notebook paper. 

This is what the first note says;

“Happy Valentine’s Beautiful”

To: The Very Pretty Gurl Who Works (Most Of The Time) The Cash Register Closest To The Candy Bars and lighter pully Things. you Have Black Beautiful Hair with 1 Blond Streek and A smile so sexy I Could Not Bring Myself To Speek To you. So Now all I Do is Dream and Think about you and Ask myself Why DiDNT I speak To her MABey i WOULDN’T BE WHEARE im AT NOW!

From: im Bout 6 Feet light Brown skin! Dreadlocks To About my MiD-Back I always came To you with A Big smile and you may Remember me by 1 or Two of These Incidents (1) I ASKED you for HOT Apple CIDeR mix anD you TOOK me to the Apple Juice lane & I SaiD Not This STUFF!  “THE only wAy I can GeT This HOT is The microwave AT your HOUSE”. I Belive you SAID IN RETUrN “U Can COME TO MY HOUSE BUT I may have been Dreaming AGAiN” If you DON’T  remember  me by that you sHould Remember me By (2) one Time I came IN with Apple CiDer “HOT” anD I HAD 2 lil NUGS on my cup and you came and smelled ‘em THAT was SO SUPER HOT! So yea all of THiS SHOULD RiNG A Bell if NOT YOU NOT THE GURL iN Witch I seek. i mean No DiS-RESPECT only Respect BUT My Heart is Broken Untill I FiND This BeAUTiFuL Gurl!!!!!!!

And this is what the second note says;

HELLO,

Im Going To KEEp THiS SHorT and Sweet To let you know I felt you every TiMe you looked aT me. If you Recive This PlEASE Take a Step To FUTHER THiS By WRiTiNG me I Go By Felix BuT My ReaL Name IS BELOW “0” By THE way im in JaIL FoR oNly Having A STolen cAR I STOLE a CAR BUT Please DON’T let THaT come BEETWEEN a possiABle FReiND SHIP. THeiRS so MUCH I Want To Tell you and let you know please contact me!

Frank Kent #207002656

500 5th Ave.

SeaTTle, WA 98104

WRitE me TODAY. i could NOT allow a woman oF your GRACE & BeAUTy Slip my GRIPS. So I TOOK a SHOT IN The Dark . A Hell of a SHOT . pleaseWRITE me I Have poems and all kind of stuff I Drew and wrote aBouT you. p/s im No WeirDO JUST a lil BiT IN love with BeAuty & Style

Really, we are all just little bit in love with beauty and style. Thanks Felix.  

I Love Tacos, and I Love Burritos

T W T W 11/10/07 to 11/16/07 

                        Taking Saturday off of at work is usually a pretty sweet deal for me, but this time I had to attend the funeral of an Uncle that I really have a lot of love for. Upon arrival after a short ferry ride across The Sound, my mother announced that she was disappointed in me, that she just “wanted more for me”. I reminded her that the feeling was mutual, and that I had not sat around when I was 15 years old dreaming that my life would turn out the way that it has. Uncle Rich surely didn’t expect that the ships he served on with pride as a U.S. Naval officer, would eventually cause his body to contract Mesothelioma, and that his dreamtime would end leaving his wife with only memories, a dog, and a home full of things. What we have is now and with it the opportunity to continue to grow and change and evolve and love. There is no time like the present to put aside our expectations of what could have been. While we can we must, continue to dream of what still might be.

            Work was still pretty busy for so late in the season, and when you work with stone, there is plenty of opportunity to become physically ravaged over time. Of course the payoff is sweet when the lights go down and the clothes fly off, but moving pieces of rock around all day can take a toll and make you sleepy at night. It seemed like every customer this week wanted the piece of stone at the bottom of the pallet, which meant that after removing a literal ton of stone, I had to put it all back later after the person I was helping had left the yard. My coworker James saw a show about the Spartans on the T.V., and found that our job was remarkably similar to the training that they endured. Wheelbarrows take on new significance when they are piled with several hundred pounds of stone and pushed across the yard repeatedly.

            When I heard the Barry Bonds indictment announced on the radio this week I lost my shit, because I have been saying to everyone for the last six months that the Feds were going to come with it. Of course I grew up in the same area that he did and even went to the same high school as him in the years after he had been there. His reputation as being a major dick was well acknowledged. I also read the book Game of Shadows, which details the whole affair that has caused him to, with consuming devotion toward his record of personal achievement, be indicted for lying under an oath that granted him immunity unless he lied. My bias is clear and I am inclined to enjoy watching his martyr like pleas in the press that nothing was amiss with his body chemistry during his golden, glory years, and that he is merely victim of the white man’s media.  All of this insignificant drama is the result of one man’s narcissistic and over inflated ego and the culture that knowingly inflamed it. In America, that is what we are all about, we hold them up high just so that they make a bigger crash when we knock the pilings out from under them. Of course when the icon that we seek to upend is more than willing to contribute to their own undoing, a la Britney or O.J., it becomes an engrossing public spectacle that we can all enjoy together from our vantage point high above.

            Midweek, my Dad told me that he has prostate cancer, and that they are weighing the options to decide how best to go about treating it, of course this means going under the knife or chemo, but they caught it early so that is good. Really I have been thinking about a life without my father since my teens. It was because of a strange turn in my own life that I became familiar with death’s stern and sudden way, at such a tender age.  Since then I have of considered death as an omnipresent force that, ironically, overshadows all of life, and that cancer is its biggest producer. I smoke and have for twenty five years, so I am pretty sure that I cannot be very far down on cancer’s “to kill” list, but really it is a non discriminatory disease that will lead to the death of many people just because. As far as diseases go it is the big, mean, biting dog that freely roams and it will go for your nuts every time you encounter it.

            Finally this week I discovered that a guy I did a couple of plays with back in high school has hit the big time down in Hollywood as an actor. He is cast in a major role in a big hit T.V. show that I never watched before but will check out now that I know he is in it. We touched base through the email and he reminded me of a crazy thing that I used to do back in high school when I would jump, with all four wheel off the ground, the tiny Honda Civic that used to drive, on this hill near the school we attended, to the immense pleasure of my fearless, (maybe some fearful), teenage passengers. Of course I was congratulatory of his success and honestly so, but I also felt really bad about myself, that I had made so many stupid decisions along the way and had squandered so many opportunities that could have enabled my life to have heft and/or relevance. Self reflection is a key for growth and I certainly want to continue doing so, but it sucks to be when the one staring back from the mirror is a warped version of the person you hoped and dreamed that you would be when you were young.