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Older, not wiser. Scared to death about what comes next. Afraid to not be mommy every day. Watched "Georgy Girl"(Can't recall ever seeing it before.) I related to Lynn Redgrave's character in a rather jarring manner. She related to children more than to adults.While it is undeniable that I adore children, I am coincidentally relieved that my grandchildren do not yet exist. Unlike some of my peers, I am in no hurry. Nothing to do with being "grandma"(I'd be the best, hands down.) Plenty to do with fear of the future for my own children. Subsequent generations in a world that's hurtling toward so many unknowns strikes me as insane. I know, every generation had it's doomsday scenario and blah-blah-blah. I guess it's that I want them to be really ready for it, so their kids stand a chance on this crazy planet. But what is ready, really? Realistically, if everyone waited until things were optimum, we'd have zero population growth. Wait, I may be onto something here.

Trapped in a town I love and hate equally. Lucky as hell in love, yet insecure always. Born to be a social animal, yet failing miserably. Wondering what the payoff to love marriage and children will turn out to be. Besides fear, worry, and guilt. I don't really mean payoff. More like the big lesson. "What's it all mean?" as Tahoma Paul used to say. The guy that fell backwards onto a horseshoe stake. And when I say backwards, I mean ass-backwards. I wonder how things turned out for him. (Perhaps he's on Facebook?) I'm genuinely afraid about my youngest child making it through life intact. She struggles with so much of it. And yet, it's her story... I have to let her tell it. Do you realize how painful that is and why didn't anyone tell me being a mother would hurt this much? Truth is, they probably did. To quote Kahlil Gibran-

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

Trippin' on Facebook. It's the new Brave New World. A crazy mish-mash of people from all corners of your life. In touch again with people you did everything first with after a 35 year hiatus. Mind boggling, really. All mixed up with current friends and acquaintances of varying degrees, family members, former lovers, and the people you will probably never know beyond the internets. Far be it from me to turn down a party.

Which brings me to Burning Man. My answer to midlife, my quest. Loved ones are perplexed about the "why" of this undertaking. I couldn't possibly explain it efficiently. Not yet. For the first time in a long, long time I am doing something solely for me. Something that will test my being in about a million ways. The time is right-that's all I really know.

Breed - Nirvana

I Dare You

NOT to smile! Here is one of my favorite small people, sporting his oh-so-cool onesie. He is now a three year old, and time marches on...

Sweet Child Of Mine - Guns n´ roses

Foxy Baby

Jimi Hendrix

Foxy Lady - Jimi Hendrix

No One Wins

War Of Man - Neil Young

Three

I wonder what sort of a day three year old me was having. An odd bird. I can tell you that this pose was likely not elicited by my parents. Looks to be taken in our 'backyard' on Clay Street. (Clay and Fillmore, aka Pacific Heights)

Speaking of Giant Redwoods

World's Tallest In Arboreal Protection

Coincidentally, here's an article from today's San Francisco Chronicle. I love that at least one of the last giants is safe from man. At least for now. What the hell were we thinking? Oh right, we weren't.

Plant That Bell & Let It Ring

One of countless redwood trunks that wash up onto the beach during the winter months. The shot of the kids on top reveals it's massiveness. Now imagine it floating downriver, to the sea. One of the local ragamuffins personalized it this summer.

Take Me To The River

Trestle across the Fox River in Appleton, Wisconsin.

I refer to my birthplace/hometown often here. And why shouldn't I? I am proud of my San Francisco/NorCal roots. In the previous post, Mrs. G. inquired about my "Wisconsin grandma" because she apparently has one as well. It's true that some of my lineage is undeniably Midwestern, and I did spend about five years in Appleton as a young one. My grandmother was born and raised in Duluth, Minnesota, and she worked and raised my mom and her siblings in Appleton. Her husband, my grandfather was born in Norway, Michigan. He met and married my grandmother in Wisconsin. Much of my mother's family still lives there.

I haven't been in Appleton since 1979, when a friend and I passed through
and visited my family. We were making our way back home to California, after seeing six Dead shows back east. I still think about the place though. We lived above the Fox River, and that train trestle is the very same one we once walked along. Forty years back.

I Miss Her...

Sometimes.

Continuum

My great-nephew, Isaiah. I wrote about his dad/my nephew HERE. I can't look at this picture and not smile. And that is a very cool thing. Happy Sunday.

Early On

I thought about Barack Obama's mother the other day, and learned that she died of cancer at fifty-three. Another motherless child. This may have little to do with who he is politically, but I know that it has a great deal to do with who he is personally. There isn't much that compares to losing your mother too soon. Trust me.

Owning Yourself

Golden Gate Park Carousel~1945

No price is to high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.
Friedrich Nietzsche

When The Tourists Go Back Home

The town is ours again. Today was that way. No noisy hordes, no cell phone addicts, no wild hounds. Just the ocean and the sun and a couple of blissful ten-year olds. Now ready to take on the work week, and a trip to the
Emerald City.

They knew the other boy from school.

Paradise waits on the crest of a wave...

Mostly redwood driftwood

I like the patterns in the rock walls along the beach.

Things Do Not Change; We Change

Photograph by Dorothea Lange/1957

Now For Something Completely Different...

Sometimes I have to step away from the continued downward spiral of humanity, and focus on the things that keep me from losing it. Like kids. Large and small. Older daughter and I paid a visit to this little guy's house the other night. She used to babysit, when he was just a little teeny little super guy. (That's an old clip, from Sesame Street. Yes, Sesame Street.) Sometimes one just needs to seek out the silly, when it all just... hurts.

Rep. Pete Stark's Cojones

From the House debate on the override vote on Bush's veto of SCHIP, Rep. Pete Stark kicks Bush's ass:

"First of all, I'm just amazed they can't figure out, the Republicans are worried we can't pay for insuring an additional 10 million children. They sure don't care about finding $200 billion to fight the illegal war in Iraq. Where ya gonna get that money? You going to tell us lies like you're telling us today? Is that how you're going to fund the war? You don't have money to fund the war or children. But you're going to spend it to blow up innocent people if we can get enough kids to grow old enough for you to send to Iraq to get their heads blown off for the President's amusement. This bill would provide healthcare for 10 million children and unlike the President's own kids, these children can't see a doctor or receive necessary care. [...]

But President Bush's statements about children's health shouldn't be taken any more seriously than his lies about the war in Iraq. The truth is that Bush just likes to blow things up. In Iraq, in the United States and in Congress."

(Daily Kos)

Tribute Time!

One thing that lifts me up (when things seem hopelessly bleak) is kids. I sure hope there's something left of this world for them to experience. Anyway, children. (No, not "childrens") Brand-new to annoyingly adolescent to grown and gone, I think they're pretty alright. Especially compared to various older humans. Today I looked after three ten-year-old boys. We spent the afternoon down the street at the beach, where we ran from waves and constructed driftwood "stuff." Such a cool age. Right at the brink of it all. In three years or less they'll pretend they don't know me. Younger daughter had her day planned in advance, and it did not include indulging in such folly. Those days are gone now. Like a streak of blazing fire. I have been replaced... as it should be.

Playing at the beach reminded me of fine times with my nephew, back in Santa Cruz. At four, he was ring bearer at my (ill-fated) wedding. He was born five years before my firstborn, and we enjoyed having that little guy around. He was a biracial kid, born into a really white family. Not a particularly simple path to walk. He blazed that path, and many paths since then. Fast forward a quarter-century, and he's thirty and married. He'll be a new dad in January. Besides that, he's played AA Minor League Baseball for about a decade. These days he lives and plays ball on the east coast. Below are photos of this now all-grown-up child. He'll always be that sweet kid, to me.


April, 1983~Blowing bubbles at Aptos Park. My son's first-ever birthday party. Young nephew still had his dreadlocks.

This one's from 1983 too. Taken at Aiko Jim's place in Castro Valley, following a Dead show. Jim's sister watched the young ones, while we silly deadheads went off and had fun. We all look young. (That's Jimmy, grinning in the back. Also, my ex in the specs and another old pal, Rickey Bewa.)

A favorite of mine. April 1989, in Ben Lomond. Then-11-year-old nephew with his cousins in our hot tub. This was also taken on my son's birthday. (His seventh) That doll-face in the background is my older daughter, who turns twenty-one on October 17th.


His Bowie Baysox card, from last year.


With his love, after the AA championship game.

In My Life...

Speedway Meadow, Golden Gate Park~ September 2nd, 2007
We prefer the nosebleed seats these days. Less mayhem occurs back here. The backdrop on stage was done by Peter Max... my brother has some nice close-ups. (hint hint)



My brother and my man, sipping their chilled Veuve Clicquot. We were stylin'! I'll be writing more about the experience later this week, as time allows.


Aiko: The next generation. My older daughter and my Aiko bro's only son, enjoying dim sum in the not-so-dim-sun. That is either a Chinese long bean or a pea pod between her chopsticks.


These nutty freaks were selling flowers out of a shopping cart, and here you see them dragging that cart through the crowd, to the other side of the meadow. Notice their porta-potty hanging off the front of the cart. Ready for anything!


Later, that same week... I took an afternoon off and went on a long walk up Big River with my love. It was the last of a series of very warm days on the coast.



Remains of a tree along Big River.



The deadly beauty of "ripe" poison oak.


Here is the place I was this weekend, kid-sitting.


Outside the kitchen door, in the early morning dampness.


Another view of their lovely place from the yard.


The kid I looked after and his pal, ping-ponging in the foggy dew.



Weekend Bonus! I got to meet Joe Spado for a cup of coffee. We talked for about an hour, and it felt like we were old friends. Aaarghhh... Peace, matey!


When I returned to my duties at the house, my daughter was playing the piano. It sounded terrific.

The sun was shining out in the yard, so I stretched-out in the hammock and her sweet piano music filled the air.






... More to share-later.