Seahawk Our Rubber Boat

Cost is a hundred bucks. What you see in the photo is what you get for the hundred, except for the lake. Nice lake too, but where we launched, after about six hundred in upgrades, the lake didn't look like this. Not to complain, with our drought we're happy to have water to boat in.

A friend from Atlanta came here a month earlier to photograph, and that's a whole other story,  helped me build a wood floor that folds in half because the bottom of the boat is all some sort of rubber that inflates. The floor fit well and everything worked like it should. I did stand up out on the lake, changed my a chair around and then got back in the chair without falling in the water. Mexican Monkey waited for the splash that never came.

The electric motor did especially well. The battery for it is real heavy though. We launched on the lower lake, the upper, larger lake of Castaic  had white tops as far as the eye could see. Even the lower, better sheltered lake, had white caps but near the shoreline more calm. The ranger at the upper lake, after seeing how terrified I looked with Mexican Monkey itching to get us out in troubled waters, suggested killing the old geezer on the lower lake, it wouldn't look so obvious that way. Mexican Monkey agreed.

I was happy, the kid at the gate at the lower lake had a nice manner, and cute enough for a tip jar. We didn't have to go through all the formalities of checking the boat because this was its maiden voyage. Virginity does have virtue. Otherwise we would have to inflate it first there at the station, and let him examine the motor. An invasive mollusk that clogs drainage is around and they're trying to keep it out of lakes. Good luck with that.

Mexican Monkey wanted to steer the boat. He wanted it so bad I could taste the want. So I said, "Go ahead, steer the boat, but do not hit anything. He was so happy, and like a pup with his head out the window, steered us directly into the middle of the lake where the white caps danced. Each wave brought another splash over the bow of the boat that soaked the entire front of me. Pleas of mercy went unattended and I thought, if I don't drown, we will at least take on too much water. Mexican Monkey didn't care though and wanted to make sure to soak me clean through to my underwear before steering to the calmer waters along the shoreline.

Once we settled down to drown some bait, the warmth of the day, the water as it lapped against the boat, all had a calming effect, even on Mexican Monkey. There is a peace that descends when you're on a boat out in a lake. Even fishing from shore gives a serenity that only a fisherman knows. We didn't catch anything but then nothing caught us either and it was a hell of a lot of fun just to get away.

Our Hood -- Climate Change--And The Threat Of The Global Warming Denyers

Hasn't  rained in a while here in L.A. and we're still waiting for at least cloud cover. Once in a while Weather.com comes up with rain in the ten day forecast, but it's replaced in a few hours with another sunny day. I guess a post of possible rain in the future is to keep us interested in coming back to see if any rain is in the forecast at all. If this was August, with low eighties for a high, I would be overjoyed, but it ain't. It is February, we should be wet and cold and reading about the Spring Baseball lineup while we wait in anticipation to wear short sleeves and eat a hot dog. Instead of winter weather, I'm in shorts, sitting outside, wondering if it would be a good idea to break out the fans for the patio.  We cook outdoors, the day's heat is enough to warm the house. Cooking inside makes it too hot though, as if it were August. That's what worries me, it's been like this for the last three years. Creepy in a way and all because our country is being held hostage by people who deny there is a problem. And that if there is, it is not because of human activity.


Then there is us. Those that feel we can do something to keep our planet healthy. Do we need more gas guzzling cars? Are there alternatives to fossil fuel? Do we need huge volumes of consumption and more and more people to feed, house and maintain?

To us, we are living on something like a spaceship traveling in our galaxy. We are so fragile that when earth is compared to our galaxy, we aren't even a speck. So we better take care of our spaceship. There is no life raft, no other planet for us to disembark on. We need to practice good husbandry, leave the earth well tended for future generations to enjoy the splendid condition of being alive.

What's going on now is a rape of our planet with this advertized need to consume more. We are overpopulated with starvation's of entire regions occurring constantly.  There are children in America without enough food. You don't have to go to a third world country to see hunger anymore. And we're suppose to be the bread basket of the world.

We need to all work together but there are those, in power around the world who want to do nothing, or worse, prevent the rest of us from doing anything. We need to eliminate these global warming denyers anywhere we find them in an office of power. They are the real threat to us all. The need is urgent, it is no longer something in the future, it is now.

Remember to vote, making sure the candidate actually has a plan to curtail global warming, it is a matter of life or death for us on earth. 

Let's Bitch: How Petty Can You Get?

I bike with a retired group of riders. It is the Wednesday ride, one of two days in the week I can get away for a few hours--if lucky. For the most part it is an odd group of riders, two retired teachers, one retired doctor and me. Sometimes we are joined by the husband of one of the teachers or an outside group of retired professionals who are also, former bike racers in their youth. All are Jews save me.

Why that's brought up is because one of those that joins us on occasion, one of the former bike racers and regards himself as progressive, hates Germans. He hates them so much he wants to exterminate all Germans. Not just Nazis, but ALL GERMANS. Besides that quirk, he enjoys talking about how much he has, his stuff, his money, on and on to ad-nausea. None in our group like him, BUT he's a Jew. And for some reason, I cannot understand, we have to sit with him when he is there.

I ignore him for the most part and once he found out I was of German decent and not a Jew, he has, for the most part, kept his mouth shut about exterminating Germans. One of the teachers in our group enjoys baiting him for comments on killing Germans. Movies, books, anything presently public that concerns Germans, the teacher brings up to entice him into his rabid behavior.

It's uncomfortable. First, they are all Jews and I'm not. And I'm of German decent and queer. The funny thing is, none of them have a problem about the queer part and none of them are particularly religious, most being atheist.

So, it is a very odd group of retired riders to say the least. But now there is a new problem to contend with. The teacher in our group, Mickey, who enjoys baiting the German hater, also likes to tell everyone what they should do or not do, what they should wear or buy, what movies they should watch and what books they should read. It's annoying and he has now fixated on my using my e-reader to read the New York Times when we are at our rest stop, The Corner Bakery. I bring it with me of late and am really enjoy sitting outside with coffee and roll, reading. I also get in the conversation from time to time but not a lot. The reason being is they enjoy talking about films, travel, and dining, none of which I can do because of Wally's condition. We use to do all those things but not now. I'm okay with it, doesn't bother me but one day I thought, why not read, like Wally and I did when we traveled. The first thing we would do in the morning when on vacation would be to find a cafe nearby and the local newspaper. We would buy a couple of papers, if they had more than one newspaper to read, and sit with our coffee and breakfast with a good read. It was for us one of the best parts of the day. Something we both enjoyed.

If I'm lucky, I can get away for a few hours on Wednesday to ride with the group and Saturday to ride with Juanster, when he can get away himself. Those are the two days I have for a little R&R. As it turned out yesterday, I wasn't able because Wally's catheter had plugged up the day before and we spent the night in emergency to replace it.

Of course I'm going to continue reading and avoiding the, Kill All Germans guy, but how petty can you get. And this from educated seniors.

Muslims In The Hood

Pulled From The Net

We got em. A lot of them, in fact it feels like living in the Middle East. Jews from Israel scattered here and there like raisins in oatmeal and Muslims everywhere else. Mostly the Muslims are from Iran that are around us. I'm taking it that they're a few Muslims thrown in from elsewhere, it's hard to tell, they all talk like there's rocks in their mouth.

Some years back, when Wally could still walk in the hood, we noticed a lot of Middle Eastern style construction done to the WWll housing tract homes built here after the war. Granted, the homes aren't much to talk about. Every forth home is exactly like your home, back then. But times change and with it enhancements in the houses. 

You got a few from the funk era of the seventies, they added wood stoves or wood siding and the, 'Must Have' hot tub. Some added on the back of the house or a second floor. A few Spanish style, but now it's pillars at the entrance. A must have if you're selling to anyone from the Middle East. Pillars and lots of cement where grass use to grow. You can have, swank, charisma, you can have charm for the house but, if doesn't come with two pillars on the sides of the front doorway it's  a shit-hole to anyone from the land of the Gods. I think that's where it all stems from, pillars at the doorway to their gods. The old country is full of oil, desert and old dead gods in houses of worship with pillars at the front door.

You don't hear much from them, the gods, they use to be pretty active a few thousands years ago, but not now. In fact it's so bad that if you're from the Middle East and you want the god to do something, like kill someone you don't like, they won't. It leaves the practitioner of the religion perplexed but obviously the god wants this other guy dead, and since the god does, it's okay to kill them in the name of whatever Middle Eastern deity needs filling in.

I'm sure they're all peaceful. The guy that parks across the street with a Lexus, glued figures of,I-don't-know-what-the-hell-they-are on the engine's hood with Israeli and American flags circling the scene seems like a sure nut case, he does stick out, but there are others, the not so obvious ones. The ones that make pipe bombs in the garage with a jihad burka bitch by his side. Those are the ones that worry me. And I'm sure the hood has them. Every fucking nut job comes here because the rents are low for these pillared homes of the Middle East.

So we have all the making for a Perfect Storm. Jews from Israel and Muslims from Iran and who-knows-where. All stewing here waiting for something to chew on.

But there is hope. Yesterday, at Trader, they had pork tamales in red sauce. Pork is still available at the local market, and I cook it every chance I get. Let its delicious scent fill the air and wander by the nose of those who abhor the thought. My contribution to the mix. They build bombs, I cook pork slow and methodical in our, much changed hood waiting for one of these holy warriors to go fucking ape.

Fear Of Jihadist Terrorists Creeps in

How do you explain it? I heard from realtors, and from those of us still left in this neighborhood going back decades, that many Muslims live in the hood now. We have a family next door to us. Another three doors down tried to sue me. The matriarch said she tripped on the sidewalk a few years ago in front of the house. She lost her case against me. But she heard, somehow, that I was a published author. One of the lawyers, during the deposition, asked if my name could be found on the Internet. I said "Yes," I have a website, blog, published articles, and fiction stories in books and magazines.  Just type in my name, the same name, on the deed that realtors have copies of.  "Oh, how fortunate, the house you're interested in is very near a published author." In fact, F. Scott Fitzgerald spent his last alcoholic days just a few blocks from here. I wonder if any of his relatives have been sued by Muslims.

Now here is something a bit scary for me, since the lawsuit, when the Muslim neighbors moved in next door, in welcoming them, they said, "You're a writer?" "Yes," I said doubting they ever read anything I wrote-- they're from Iran, heterosexual, and intellectual snobs, (they sniggered after they asked what college I went to, and I told them, the local state college up the street) made me wonder how did they know? I only told them my name was Mike. The realtors, in the sale of their house, told them that because the same name as the property owner also came up on the Internet.  

I'm gay and old and I know what religious bigotry can do. It can kill you for being a Sodomite, as religious Christians like to call us, who for over two thousand years have been doing just that, murder, torture, and imprisoning us even today. So now I wonder, what idiot Muslim teenager with nothing to do but listen to how god hates fags and they must be killed for desecrating Allah, and then either tries to or actually does it. 

After the failed lawsuit against me, shortly after the lawyers told me I won, nails were driven into the sidewall of one of the tires on the Caddie. Coincidence? Hardly. Nothing else happened since then. I ignore them, they ignore me.  And I do keep a good eye on them. 

Then there is the local market, Trader Joe's. You go there and you hear a lot of Middle-Eastern dialects. Now I have to wonder if any of their rug-rats they brought are going to go Jihad on us at some point, Really, I think about it now, especially with Christians in this country upset with us and the courts for allowing equality for gays. 

The Christians are just as bad. It is religion itself that has warped society. As far as I know, there is no known case of a god killing anyone, it's always the people that believe in the god that do it. In America, only in the major cities, are you relatively safe if you're gay or lesbian, even then, fag-bashing is still a problem.  In the rural areas, it's a real good idea to keep a low profile. Going out in drag, hitting on the wrong guy, could get you a good case of death.

So yeah, I'm a little concerned. The French terrorists killed anybody they thought needed killing on their path of terror. And I firmly believe, it will happen again here.

Why The Quran And Muhammad Are Corrupted

A South Park Cartoon

 Has anyone notice what many religions have in common? The words attributed to a god and his laws come from hermits living in isolation.  These hermits record that they pray, fast, and mutilate themselves (some in the Judaic period, rolled in their own excrement). 

We have jokes about hermits living in caves all the time, someone is depicted climbing a steep mountain to encounter a near-naked and hungry looking person. The climber asks a question and the punch line is given by the hermit. That's how use we are to them. We all know who the guy sitting in front of his cave is.

Jesus wandered in a desert, tended to by angels before he began to preach. Buddha, the smartest of the bunch, did the same thing, but didn't have to find a cave, he made one with his mind, a retreat where breath, food and I guess taking a shit were all controlled.

It's a bit frightening really, some nut case, who usually isn't getting along with the populace, finds the real god by forcing themselves to hallucinate by depriving their bodies of some need. And I wouldn't be surprised if a few herbal drugs weren't involved with the visions as well. Beer has been a staple of man since Adam woke up with his mate contorting with a snake. A very, male penis envy, story if you ask me. Adam sure was shocked by the size of it. Of course, because of Eve, (mans eternal scapegoat for everything that goes wrong is the women in their lives) god evicted them from a real nice place, they now have to wear scratchy clothes the rest of their lives, all because Adam had a small penis syndrome. Which still plagues men with large penises today. It's never big enough.

I mean, here in today's world, these people would be on skid row with their hand out, blathering schizophrenic phrases, or a hat near their lectern. So why is it, that people want to believe these very old stories of what we take for as lunacy today?

I'll tell you why. They had good publishers. Someone picked it up and sold it as truth. Just like people believing in The Da Vinci Code, it's fiction folks, listed in the fiction section of libraries and book stores yet some people see it otherwise and they're just as many as to believe in the religion behind the fiction. A kind of fiction writer stealing ideas from another fiction writer, but who made them famous?

The Publisher.

I'm sure, if I had the right publisher, I would be a household name by now. Maybe if I shit in my pants and sit in it, starve myself into seeing things while drunk and fucked up, I might get a break in big time sales of my work. It certainly worked for dead crazy people.

We Made It

Holiday Inn where Wally, Beto and I stay every year.

Another Holiday season nears its end. It seems I began to write 2014 on checks without thought when I'll need to go through a few checks until 2015 formulates in my brain. Wally will be eighty-three in January, I'll be sixty-nine in July.

The hen house was cleaned by Mexican Monkey. He trimmed the grape arbor too, and today I cut up the vines for smoking meats this summer. Grape vines, I think, make the best smoke for barbecuing. Way better than hickory or mesquit. Better even than apple. Especially with chicken, pork or fish, it has a wonderful mild smoke flavor that is not overbearing but enhances the flavor of the meat.

A friend of ours house caught on fire today. The heater in his adjacent tenants rental was the cause. He has no heat, electricity, phone, gas or water. And the fire department batter-rammed his front door so he has to stay there until he can secure the building. We are expected to get rain in a day with the temperature near freezing.

But he'll get a better building, if the insurance works in his favor, and next year, if he lives through this, may be a better year for him.  It doesn't look good right now, but it could change.

Wally had another urinary problem where we spent Christmas Eve and day with nurses and doctors but it looks like there will be a solution to this too, and it may make Wally's life better and ours trying to care for him. 

So here is to a better year. With all the hope and goodwill to make it so, we might have a better year than the last.