Manny Salazar comes trolling for good times

I don't know how, but in my dreams last night Manny Salazar, aka Big Poppa, "Cheludo," and a few other names I may not know about, came a-callin'. 

Apparently, word had gotten out that I was to be sought out for good time fun. What that may have meant to him, or how word had reached him was a mystery. I try to keep that kind of thing to myself. 

I was looking at some sleazy personal ads at the time he approached me, so I quickly closed my browser and informed him that what I do for a good time is my own business.

He decided not to take that for an answer and invited me out to cruise around Chico in his car, searching for those aforementioned good times. 

Jim Turnbough, a current member of the cult I ditched in the '80s figured in as a peripheral figure, someone Manny was to check in with for authorization in some way. Not exactly a reality-based dream in any way, but it had the look and texture of it enough for me to remember it.

G-word, Day 2

I'm not feeling so grateful, but I am keeping this up because, well, I don't know why exactly. I owe it to myself to try this little exercise. So here's my 3 things for today:

 

1. Death--I'm grateful for death because without it life would be an interminably long, boring affair. I noticed in the garden that life wants to live, but it can't keep growing and expanding indefinitely. There wouldn't be enough room. 

The little garden area is getting overrun by passion flower vines. They haven't got the memo on this whole death thing yet. Sunflowers grew up nice and tall but eventually fell over, top-heavy under their own weight. They begin to die and have no problem with drying up and becoming bird food. I should be so graceful.

 

 2. My eye condition from yesterday didn't get worse. I have these thoughts that "this is it, the start of the symptom that doesn't go away" each time I get some kind of issue. 

This time it was blurry vision in my left eye. It was due to a secretion of that yellowish white goo that sometimes forms in the corner of your eye. I had to blink frequently or put a warm washcloth over my eyes and it would go a way temporarily, but it kept coming back. 

I thought it could be the start of a new round of problems, my next big thing, but when I woke up this morning, it wasn't really an issue. 

I am glad for that. I can only battle so many different types of health issues. I take for granted the things that are ok until they aren't. So, I'm not taking it for granted, ok? Let my eyes be, please and thank you.

 3. Electricity. Yeah, it almost seemed like I was going to lose power today. A bit of a flicker when I was cooking dinner. That would have been terribly inconvenient as I had dinner on the stove and it would have been ruined by being half cooked. It only flickered for a second, but just enough to make me say, "Oh, please. Not now. Just let me finish cooking dinner. I'll be appreciative." 

I saw that movie "Into the Wild" yesterday. The guy struck me as somewhat of an idiot. Abandoning all the conveniences of modern living, and for what? Some romantic notion of "freedom" like a 12-year-old has when they run away from home. 

I've been without electricity before, and it doesn't feel like freedom, it feels like a drag. You have to do everything the hard way, come up with workarounds for everything that you do easily when you have power. So, yeah, thanks for the power grid not going down. 

 

I can still be grumpy as I'm grateful. That wasn't part of the deal, giving up my attitude. I'm just making notes. These things could have sucked worse, or they went "eh, ok."

The G word

I'm supposed to be keeping a "gratitude journal." It's an exercise in appreciation recommended by my therapist and my life coach (two different people). Write down three things per day that you are grateful for. 

I won't go into my argument right now about what irks me about the word gratitude. I don't need to philosphize or theologize at this moment, with regard to my long list of complaints with whomever or whatever I might be beholden to for the things about which I should be grateful. 

It is an exercise in observation. I've observed and do constantly observe the negatives, so this is giving equal time, or at least a token thereof, to the good things, the things that went right, the things which did not suck in any particular day. So, here's three:

 

1. I'm appreciative that I even have a therapist and a life coach. Some people don't have either. I have both. How overly abundant are my resources to have two people tasking themselves with aiding my self-improvement?

 2. I also have a cello teacher, who doubles as my life coach. Same person, doing twice the work. For free. Ok, that's just going way past the extra mile to help me.

 3. I'm glad for, um, let's see. It's Saturday. I like Saturdays, even if they almost kill me sometimes. I'm going to have my coffee and cannabis and play some music. I always enjoy that to some degree, even if the coffee makes me wired and frazzled at the end of the day. There is a sweet spot of enjoyment and even the anticipation of those few moments gives me a bit of pleasure.

 

That's three things. I am going to try to check in every day, so get used to it. I'm sure I'll keep pace with more than three things that suck and which I detest and object to strongly in a day. This will be my attempt to at least provide balance. I'm all about not being one-sided, at least that's what I preach. Time to start practicing. 

Ok, then. Let the day begin!

Green Bay vs 49ers

And the Raiders were in there somewhere. This wasn't a football dream per se. I dreamed my dad was in a competition with a couple of large corporations to show off their patronage and fandom of a couple of different football teams. They had to do this by manicuring their properties to perfection, utilizing state of the art lawnmowing techniques and by displaying various types of swag related to the team they were supporting. 

My dad had done quite a job with the grass at his large estate, but was a little lacking on the swag. His rival, Yuba City Honda, had replaced their entry door with one displaying the Raiders name and logo but my dad's was lacking the piece de resistance, which would have been a 49ers fountain that shot water a hundred feet in the air. 

I walked around the grounds admiring the impeccably trimmed grass. No scalping, perfect coverage, except for a few areas that were still in progress. There was a cat blind of tall grass at the southwestern entrance and some sketchy areas in the barn that needed reseeding. For the most part it was pretty impressive, though I was reluctant to tell him. I'd let the judges do that. 

Somewhere in there Jamie from Outlander was roaming about shirtless and sending up fireworks in the form of perfectly timed dirt launches with some kind of pyrotechnic cannon. The message was "Hey." 

I went about inspecting the grounds and found myself in an underground bunker with him. He was operating some kind of electrical radio type equipment but was experiencing a lot of static. I determined through crude observation that he was himself the problem. 

He was emitting some form of radioactivity which skewed the equipment's performance. Whenever I would get near him my RF measuring equipment would go all wonky and turn off. I told him and he just scowled that primitive scowl of lack of understanding and went on with what he was doing. 

I left the bunker and continued examining the grounds as the inspection teams arrived on the scene to do their white glove critiques.

Just a horse on the roof

I think Sharon was there. It was in our old house in Paradise, same but different, you know, as things usually are in a dream. One of her two horses got a weird idea in its head and leaped up on the roof of our garage. I was on my way to work at the time, but I changed my plans, as this was too interesting to miss. 

How were we going to get this dumb horse back down without breaking a leg or a rib? I suggested rolling it off sideways, but that didn't seem altogether without risk. Maybe some long boards to make a ramp? There were no boards available that would even come close to fitting the bill. I don't know how it resolved. 

I know there was another dream earlier in the night, but I had bad heartburn and kept waking up and now it's forgotten. There was a person of note, whose name I am hoping to recall by sitting here typing as I attempt to squeeze the memory from my brain, like the last bit of toothpaste from a tube. Nope. It's gone.

New job, old job

I don't even know anymore. It seemed like I was working at a new job, or possibly I was starting over at my old job in a very menial capacity. Whatever the case, I was the new guy and had to be accountable for all my time. 

I found myself getting in a truck with one of the employees or vendors to a large automotive shop. I was intending to to just catch a ride to a different part of the shop, but he wound up getting out on the main road and I was going to be listed as AWOL if I didn't get out of the truck. I managed to convince him to let me out before he got onto the freeway. 

Instead of heading back, I wandered away on my own to a place reminiscent of 412C West Wilson, Grace and Bill's place in Glendale. They were there, but it wasn't them. It was more like they were represented, but the people were closer to Ivan Waxman's parents. 

So, I was there, AWOL from work and feeling the need to justify my existence. They offered me lunch, but I told them I would like to help out with the chores instead. I looked around, and there were dishes in the sink, but they were already clean and not needing my attention. 

Outside in the yard, there was some digging going on. Ivan's dad and a neighbor were digging up some old tires that someone had buried on the perimeter of the lawn as a makeshift border with the concrete walkway. It was very unseemly as far as decorative borders go, so I grabbed a shovel and started helping the to dig up the tires from the muddy, grassy lawn. 

Yep, that's about it. Pointless, as usual.

Uncle Bill, Indian Giver

I guess it's not Indian giving if a person leaves you something in their will, but then turn out not to be dead. I was given a rod and reel by Bill Helton, but it was conditioned upon his death. The fact that he was alive was lost on me as I argued with him about why he wanted it back. 

Before that I was in my room and found an ant infestation in full swing. I had to fight some ants in my kitchen the other day, so this dream was particularly disturbing. They were everywhere, both in my dream and in my real life experience, necessitating a deep cleanup of everything. 

Somewhere in one of my dreams I was urinating into a milk jug, but that probably has to do with my having to pee right now.

The Problem With Portals (another text editor entry)

 

The problem with portals.

Jinx and Draco had been traveling back and forth through the portal for a while and all seem to be going just fine. A lot of the fairy people had retired and there was a new crop taking their place. Jinx and Draco were getting on in their years but both still had their playful attitudes and a spring in their step, despite a few gray hairs or whiskers here or there.

The problem with portals began one Sunday afternoon when they were making their way back from the land of the hedge fairies. The portal popped and fizzled a few times just as they were about to enter it and then became solid like a mirror and they bounced off of it when attempting to pass through. 

Nothing like this had ever happened before. Jinx brought out her whatchamacallit thingy crystal goody and rubbed it a few times it seemed to bring the portal back to life temporarily and they passed through it, though it was a bit rough. Kind of like passing through Jell-O, not at all the smooth transition they had been accustomed to. There was, in fact, some sticky residue left on their fur which was not going to go over well with the humans back in the house.

Sometime later, after they had gotten himself themselves cleaned off, had a snack and a nap and a little time to think, Jinx declared, "We’ve got to fix that portal before it becomes a real problem. Can you imagine if we got stuck over there and couldn’t get back? Or if some of the fairies got stuck over on this side? Think of the problems that could arise!"

Draco agreed that they needed to get right to work on it, but then got distracted watching a squirrel outside the window and promptly forgot about it. Meanwhile, Jinx was busy lapping up the attention of some younger children that had come to stay for the holidays and also let the matter slip.

It was late one night when they heard a banging around coming from the kitchen. Draco was right on it and downstairs in a flash. Using his 20/20 smell-o-vision, he located the intruder instantly. It was someone they were not familiar with, a fairy standing about 2 feet tall (or however tall they stand, I don’t know), peeking out from under the sink.

Eventually, Jinx sauntered down the stairs and took command of the situation. “At ease, Draco," she said. 

Draco stood his ground, though his fur eased down a notch from it it’s fully alert and erect position. 

“Identify yourself fairy!“ Jinx rasped at the somewhat guilty looking little entity, clearing a hairball from her throat.

"My name is Ferndale," he exclaimed.

Jinx and Draco both raised their respective eyebrows at this odd sounding name.

"What are you doing under the sink, Ferndale?" Jinx continued the questioning, "Not after the drain cleaner, I presume?"

Ferndale stared blankly, the reference to household plumbing products eluding him. “I was just…“ He began, but Jinx interrupted him.

“And do your parents know where you are?“ she asked, noting his youthful appearance. 

He looked to be about 13 or 14 in human years, or just under 100 or so, the equivalent in fairy years, but a juvenile, definitely.

"Why don’t you begin at the beginning,“ interjected Draco, eager to help out with the interrogation. 

 

**Editor's note: This was as far as I got. I was out walking and talking to my phone's text editor. The expletives have been deleted, along with most of Siri's mangled interpretations of what I was trying to dictate. 

This little snippet was my first attempt at writing children's fiction. It is basically a work of fan fiction that I was going to show to my friend, Katie Martinez, who wrote the original "Jinx and Draco in the Fairy Realm" book. I was hoping to give her some ideas for another installment in the series.

The plot was going to involve an adolescent fairy trapped on this side of the portal and how the two heroes, Jinx and Draco worked to restore the portal and repatriate him. 

The two talking animals were going to have to enlist the help of some special needs children (who are the only ones gifted to understand their speech). These kids, outcasts and nerds because of their disabilities, were also scientific geniuses with an intuitive understanding of quantum physics and a savant-like knowledge base. 

The magical and the scientific worlds of these newly bonded partners would merge, and new paradigms would be formed as the humans, animals and fairies all worked together. Prejudices and personal differences would be set aside as the value of each person's unique abilities was recognized. You know, a little lesson for the kids about acceptance, etc, etc. 

I didn't start the franchise, so don't look for any Jinx and Draco books under my name. If I can sell Katie on the idea, maybe she'll give me partial credit. 

Just a quick note

I don't know if I dreamed this or saw it on the internet or what. I saw a squirrel laying on his back as if getting a suntan. Suddenly he catches a pine cone in the chest as it falls out of a tree at him. It knocks the wind out of him, but he doesn't mind because he was waiting for it. That's it.

**I googled it, and there ain't no pictures anyone ever snapped of a squirrel laying on his back unless he was getting CPR or being tickled on the belly.

Damn telephone

I dreamed I got a phone call from Justine, or Tina, from Bible Study. Even though we are friends on Facebook, I haven't spoken to or even messaged with her in over 30 years. So, I was very surprised when she called and sounded as cheery as ever.

"I'm only a few months away," she told me excitedly.

"That's great!" I said, in an encouraging voice, "Months away from what?"

"From graduating," she continued.

"How cool," I said. "What are you taking?"

"Oh, no!" She said in a tone that told me she wasn't going to give me that information.

The phone went dead, and I stared at it in disbelief. Had I ticked her off with my question? I had the sense that I she wasn't telling me because I was supposed to already know. It was just a thought, I had no way of verifying it because she was gone.

More had occurred prior to that phone call, an entire dream perhaps. I don't know because it is now lost in the waking world of pain and having to pee.