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Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Just shoot the shit with me





The last few blogs of mine haven't really been what you would call "chipper". There's a good reason for that. It's not like I'm not usually a happy guy - I am, usually - but most of the time things seem to be so much more dramatic than they used to be. Is that because things are changing? I've certainly changed a lot from how I was only a year ago. It seems like my days have become so much crazier, so much more exciting. Does excitement = drama? Maybe in the theatre, but in my life I always imagined that I could have all the fun I wanted, do all the nothing I ever wanted, and still avoid having things get so emotional and draining. It is a drain, sometimes, living too much.



It wasn't always like this either. I can remember, when I was a much nerdier, geekier, enormously dorkish me, I would have fucking sold my soul to have ONE night like the nights I seem to get up to two, three times a week. I mean, minus the sex, I've had enough randomness and entropy that it's becoming ricockulous. Murphy's Law sticks to me like fucking super-glue.



But all the fun-stuff and good-times bring their own mess of troubles - and I don't just mean with the ladies. People talk. Everyone has a dream, everyone has a story, and everyone wants you to understand that. They're all good people, generally; they have quirks, and loves, and adventures. But they're never going to go anywhere else from where they are now. Why? Because they're all so happy dreaming. Everybody wants to dream but nobody wants to live. They'll waste their lives imagining their goals, the better loves they'll have, and the future that'll make their satisfactory present seem flaccid.



It gets more than a little depressing seeing all these possibly-wonderful people living the same life everyday and never going to the places they were heading towards in the first place. Did the revelry of life become too distracting? Was it the bright billboards and road signs? What made them stop the journey and just sit?



Maybe it's like the Tortoise and the Hare...

They both started the race, both confident of reaching the end. (Though the Hare felt the most confident, particularly of being first.) The horn is sounded and they're both off. And the Hare, racing along the tracks, comes across a lemonade stand. He's thirsty. The Tortoise is miles away, plodding along. Why not take a drink? Relax, have a nap. He'll still get there before the Tortoise.

Meanwhile, the Tortoise is focused, churning his stubby legs as fast as he can, knowing he'll make it to the end. He comes to the lemonade stand and sees the hare, fast alseep. He doesn't stop. The Tortoise keeps going, down the track and soon passes into the distance.



Soon after, the hare wakes up. The sun is nearly halfway in the sky. The animals at the lemonade stand tell him they just saw the Tortoise go by. The Hare is shocked. How could he have passed him? Him? The Hare!? He kicks his feet and springs back onto the track, flying across the gravel, a cloud of dust trailing in his wake. He passes the Tortoise, narrowing his eyes and giving a haughty sniff as his almighty speed knocks down the slow, solid Tortoise, still trying to reach the end.

Eventually though, the Hare starts to slow down. He's way ahead of the Tortoise now. Might as well relax, right? A very comfortable-looking grassy hillock peaks in the nearby distance. Also, there is a trio of fine-looking Bunnies, dancing amidst the flowers. They see the Hare and beckon him over, laughing as their ears flop around in the soft breeze.

The Hare is instantly entranced. He looks at the sky; still mid-day. He hops over to the Bunnies and they all began dancing furiously anew. The grass stalks and flowers cover them as they roll on the ground and enjoy each other's company, immensely.

Back down the road, not so far away, the Tortoise can be seen. He's gotten back up from when the Hare blew past him and knocked him over. His shell is a little scuffed, each leg churning a little slower, but still he's coming. As the Tortoise passed by the Hare and Bunnies, frolicking across the grass, his head turns towards them. Is he tempted? The Tortoise keeps going right past them, plodding along until again he vanishes into the distance.

The Hare is lying on his back, deciding what shape the clouds take and he finally notices the sun. It has dropped in the sky. The race! The Tortoise! The Bunnies whine as he thumps down the hill in a rush, forgetting even to say goodbye. His big feet slap the soft dirt road and each step becomes a clap, faster and faster the Hare's legs pump him further and further down the road.

He comes upon the Tortoise, and instead of simply blowing by, he slows his pace, and asks him, "Why do you not stop?"

"Because I have somewhere to be."

"You can get there later just as easily as earlier."

"But I am slow. You are fast. If I wait, it will be too late. But if I keep going, then I can reach the finish before I die of old age."

"You are a Tortoise. You will live a long time. Surely you can spare some of your many years to drink at the lemonade stand we passed, or tumble on the grass nearby."

"Yes. I will live a long time, longer even than you, I think...but only once."

The Hare is puzzled by the Tortoise's response. Surely if you live but once it would make more sense to enjoy each comfort as much before your time is come. But he does not say these things. The determination of the Tortoise has put him in a mood to finish the race quickly and find some new fancy for himself. He nods his head, once, and disappear in a cloud of dust. The tortoise watches him pass from sight on the horizon.

As the sun moves lower and lower in the sky, the Hare can hear the roar of the crowd at the finish line. He starts to imagine the applause all the animals will give him when he finally bursts through the ribbon. His pace slows as he gets caught up in his own magnificence. What will the Bear say? Though I am strong, never will my paws be fast enough to hold the Hare. What will the Fox say? Though I am cunning, never will my mind be as swift as the Hare. What will the Stork say? Though I am tall, never will my shadow catch the Hare.



The Hare stops. He begins to day-dream, and soon his mind is so full that the race is forgotten. A wood stump lies next to the road and the hare sits on it, leaning back to watch the sunset as his dreams play themselves across the flickering light.



But the Tortoise is still coming. He has finally caught up to the Hare again. His legs slower than ever; the journey has been so long for him, but still he plods across the road, close enough now to see the crowds, the streamers and banners. He can hear them roaring. They see him come above the crest of a hill and give am almighty shout. "It's the Tortoise!"



The Hare, hearing the shout, breaks from his dreaming and sees with horror that the tortoise has passed him - again! - and is nearly to the finish line. There is no time to waste now. He MUST reach the end before the Tortoise. His legs stretch across the road, strides growing longer, faster, and his feet beat the ground lounder even than the noise of the crowd.

There! The finish line is in sight, but the Tortoise is mere feet away. His steps have become so slow, his head hanging slack and the shell completely covered in dirt. The Hare, nearly flying now, comes up behind him. The Tortoise takes a step, and another. The hare goes even faster. The Tortoise stretches out his neck, and then...



THE WINNER!

The Hare blows past, but too late. He has lost. The Tortoise won.



My point: is it the journey or the destination? Should we take the time we are given to enjoy life's many pleasures, or is there something better to wait for? Life's not a race, I know, but...is there something near the end more worthwhile than food, drink, games, and pleasureable company?

Have all those people sacrificed their waking dreams for present-tense satisfaction? And if so, will they realize, like the Hare, what has happened? And, am I the Tortoise? Am I still on my way towards the one thing I want in this life more than anything? ...Or is this all just a buncha bullshit?

I guess we'll see. Won't we?

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Bay to Breakers!

I recently attended my first ever bay to breakers event, and it was fucking wicked awesome! Here are the pictures I took in-between all the revelry:


Same costume!? Faux-pas, or just plain hott?

These guys were just precious.

This how sexy I look when I'm tired. It's like 6 something A.M.

I missed him scratching his bum - but he was! (We're all waiting for teh bus)

Alternative bros suck at costumes.

Gogo lady runners!

Fish people.

Sailor people.

That just says it all, doesn't it?

Yeah, I'm thirsty...I had moment of supreme impulse to watch this table go down like a card-castle.

More lady runners! (They got a headstart from the men.)

Yay old guy! You can do it! Like the little engine that could.

Now THIS guy is a fucking champ.

And so is this guy. That's Roman, a drummer I play with.

You gotta run run run / take a drink or two - Velvet Underground (song was on repeat inside my head all day.)

Here come the weaksauce regulars. These people aren't so epic as the Kenyan (or the twenty white people who came up a mile behind him.)

This woman is NOT retarded. However, she might be a bit slow! (nyuk, nyuk, nyuk)

Left to right: Jenny, Cal, and Roman.

Somebody ran into me when I was taking this one - fucker.

I lent out my camera.

Yes, I always travel with my own asian sidekick...and his almost racist-stereotypical camera

This guy was feeling the love. (You could see it, but that's not in the frame - thank geebus.)

Again my camera got knocked!

These girls gave up. LAME

This part is where all the people are walking.

And this part is where all the people are partying. Notice the sexy nurses? Such a girl costume cliche. I'm saddened at their lack of imagination in being B2B sluts.

THESE GUYS have imagination. Corporate nuns sans pants? Brilliant!

She totally tried to ruin my picture...but I forgave her when she gave me a kiss and a beer.

Oh the revelry.

I don't remember why this guy was trying to get a shot from that angle...

Paul, our trustworthy camera-man, and Cal, the guy with a fez.

Boobies! But only the fugly chicks went starkers.

Aren't the floats epic/awesome?

Seriously, it was jam packed. This was at like 10ish.

Myself and Jenny (she's a friend of Roman's.) Oh, and sorry, but those are my new dbag shades. I got them for free fair and square.

Ahh! FINGER. I was totally trying to get a shot of her behind. (It was tight.)

I dunno what they're supposed to be, but good coordination.

Lots of people had shopping-cart-floats filled with beer. This guy gave out Coors, but I already had too much at this point.

Geebus P Cryst! People FLEW in for this party. T'was insanitorious.

Cal, about to give me a hug and be a loveable drunk. Isn't his fez just adorable?

And more peoples. We're getting ready to move along because the cleaning crews are coming.

Damn! What a trip it was. I wish I had taken more pictures. But what with the music, and dancing, and getting dry-humped, and all that jazz, I was busy enough.

Ohh, San Francisco. Way to be, bay. Way to be.