06.27.07
Posted in travel, words at 12:17 pm by electricvishnu
good questions . . .
one day i’ll write about glacier park and how peaceful, serene, and untouched the place is . . . and seattle (where people still wear flannel, a super huge thanks to my cousin, chris, and cousin-in-law [i think that's what they call them these days,] cory, for their huge hospitality) . . . and portland: the land of homeless people and the supposed strip club capital of america . . . and redwood national park, a place where there are trees wider than cars are long (is that a true fact? it seems so) . . . one day . . . soonish i suppose
right now i’m in san diego. for the past week i have been in california. we arrived in san francisco last tuesday afternoon. i had been there one time before, and it had impressed upon me nothing but good vibes. our arrival there brought me a feeling not unlike that feeling in the pit of ones stomach (or wherever one really feels this sensation) when meeting or even re-meeting a member of ones karmic posse [a karmic posse is a group of souls that always happen to run into each other, lifetime after lifetime, in all sorts of forms; i.e. your pops this time around might be your pet dog, that bird that hangs around your house, some woman who runs over your cat, . . . in each subsequent lifetime you have (in any form) on your way towards nirvana {as t goes to infinity} i've certainly glommed this whole shebang from various other theories of reincarnation and karmic consequence so please don't give me any credit (or incredulous looks) concerning the business of karmic posses]
so maybe it’s the quasi-new-york-ish intellectualism combined with laid back californiaism that comforts me in the city by the bay. i haven’t been able to completely put my finger on it. there are a lot of bums there. they are concentrated downtown. there, they ask for chaaaange, or “a couple of bucks.” (i guess it’s true what they say about exceptionally high cost of living in san francisco)
los angeles . . . listen to tool’s “Ænema”
california loves that new umbrella song. i hadn’t even heard it in new york (then again i don’t hear very much) but anyway cali bumps it all the time . . .
i’m not gonna lie . . . the new gwen stefani song is a hot jam “oooooo ooo”
everyone is a “model actress hooker waitress” (thanks courtney)
i still haven’t found el pollo loco
cali-fuckin-fornia . . . what can i say san diego is a good place to be a bum (or a canner, like charles, from detroit rock city, en route to guadalajara, a vagabond by his own calling, as well as a connoisseur of “chicks with dicks,” specifically the ones you can find in north hollywood) . . . tijuana is . . . tijuana. there’s about a billion+ words to be said about all of it, but quite honestly, part of me is looking forward to a road a road free of personalized license plates with hearts and stars and handprints and all the rest . . . some call californians lazy i’m not sure if i’m ready to make that call just yet . . . after all, a lot of the “californians” that i’ve met are from elsewhere . . . california seems to attract a certain element. i can’t put my finger on exactly what that element is just yet. one day i’m sure i’ll figure it out, but tomorrow brings about an eastbound trail.
we’re headed towards the huge hole in the ground.
ps muchas gracias to the sd co. for putting us up and taking us out on the pb, ob, ib, pcp, tnt, msg, pp, and all the rest
photos – for those who want to cut to the chase
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06.18.07
Posted in travel, words at 5:06 am by electricvishnu
conner, mt
we drove through the big hole battlefield, where a bunch of indians were roughed up by the army (or was it the other way around,) to the bitterroot valley, where we stayed with my grandparents. i certainly felt a little sorry that the stay was so short, but it was still great to see them
“sometimes i don’t know whether to shit or go blind”
“she came through like piss and vinegar”
“you look like joe namath”
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Posted in travel, words at 5:02 am by electricvishnu
white sulphur springs, mt
white sulphur springs is a montana town with one school (k-12), no traffic lights, and six (6) bars.
much thanks to my uncle charles and aunty bj for housing and feeding three young unshaved and unshowered boys from the east. much thanks as well to my cousin jake for showing those three dudes around the white sulphur (tuesday) night life [live poker, and $4 pitchers and four-wheeling at 1am (almost) and such]
at dempsey’s pub we met a woman originally from sparta, nj (small world)
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Posted in travel, words at 4:59 am by electricvishnu
yellowstone national park, wyoming
how’s this for (jackass-like) reality tv?
the insane/drunk guy runs through the field, swiping the grizzly cub from the side of mama, and runs like hell . . . think of it as grizzly-man for the add generation.
i’m kind of excited to see yellowstone blow. awesome geo-thermal sights . . . too many people on the boardwalks (shouldn’t be a theme park) but with that said . . . bangin
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Posted in travel, words at 4:55 am by electricvishnu
wyoming
wyoming: the home of
dick cheney
clay roads
long trains filled with coal
army caravans
drive-thru liquor stores
where “coors on tap” is apparently the only way to go
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Posted in travel, words at 4:52 am by electricvishnu
custer state park, south dakota
the mutha-fuckin’ badlands be bad. they be real bad.
and the drug store that shall not be names is a scam.
getting a decsent tent pays off, verizon edges out cingular thur far, we found the elusive buffalo, no mtn. lions yet
rushmore, as expected, is also sort of a scam
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Posted in travel, words at 4:33 am by electricvishnu
somewhere between illinois and south dakota
we left oark park, il at nine pm: packed in a ready to drive all night. driving past 88 signs for aurora; we didn’t see wayne and garth . . . bogus. chicagoland’s suburbia dissapated in tens of minutes and the blackness in the rear-view signalled the true beginning of the road trip.
there are so many Cops cities scattered throughout this country: a main highway traversing, a handful of exits, one to three buildings above four stories: albuquerque, tuscon, el paso, youngstown, and so on . . . grid pattern, run down houses . . . the episode opens with the aerial shot from the helipcopter . . . continues with a few traffic stops, “domestics,” and 911 calls starring drunks, meth-heads, fat guys in cut-off t-shirts and chicks with cut-off shorts who collectively have less teeth than . . . well you get the point. cedar rapids, ia is one of those cities. iowa is most likely a place i will not see again in my life. it’s most important non-produce export in my opinion is seneca wallace. did anything else really come from iowa?
country music (while driving through the night, esp through the plains) rocks
my old truck,
my dog,
my love leaving,
my few too many,
the red, white, and blue,
jesus, and
the road . . .
a whole lot of running . . .
from and into it all
“pour another tequila, sheila!”
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06.08.07
Posted in snapshots, words at 5:18 am by electricvishnu
chicago, il
so saying that lebron is the king of cleveland may have been an overstatement to a great degree; the cavs played their first game of the nba finals tonight and those who live in that city on lake erie couldn’t seem to care less . . . chicago, however, is a city under one man (myth, legend, whatever you call it) . . .
ditka vs god: who wins?
trick question . . . ditka is god.
chicago is the city that ditka built
the bartender at solukis on wells st. summed it up this way: “da bears would have won the superbowl the last two years if one of two things happened: either the bears had a real qb or ditka was coaching” joe, the barkeep, says this while he’s mixing a long island iced tea with about three drops of non-alcoholic liquid. it’s approximately four in the afternoon. it’s his friday though, so it’s all good. the wasted divorcee is telling us all about her “five bedroom condo,” and how miami is her favorite place in the usa . . . a few of the first characters from the trip
da bears.
the loop | all L’s lead back to the loop. it took about a mile of walking (looking for a mythical 3-day cta pass that doesn’t really exist) to get on the L. we did make it to chicago proper eventually (from oak park, former hometown of hemingway, frank lloyd wright, and dave eggers [rock on run-ons]) we were hungry from our cta-pass-quest, so we went to ditka’s. “tell ‘em mike sent ya!” much more upscale than the snl skits with tasty greasy food.
so there’s inside and outside the loop. it’s like some sort of electric energy field, or something like that . . . when you’re in, you’re in, and probably spending a lot more than you should for lunch or anything else (not quite new york obscenity, though) the loop is old school, though, and it’s a place where the L comes in, converges with every other L, then swings back out to a completely different world in the chicago-land universe . . .
i didn’t win the trip to the gwen stefani show tomorrow night from the place on halsted . . . apparently my karaoke version of “just a girl” wasn’t up to par (or was just plain creepy)
my favorite place in chicago | i came here two years ago. last night when we stepped off the red line at fullerton, i saw a familiar sign.
superbangin tacos for 1.55 each god bless america
go there immediately
millennium park = terminator 2, in the dream sequence right before the nuclear blast
the bean is the highlight, reflecting the vagina-building [smurfit-stone]
the whole park corridor, the fountain, blues festivals and such. get that harmonica out
if i see another pottery kind of thing i’m going to break it . . . fields + art institute
the surreal life
the second city is a swell place, but we’re certainly ready to get west.
a paragraph or two or three per city would never ever cut it, so bear with me on this trog (travel blog or whatever one might call it)
the allende tacos have gotten me excited for tacos west and southwest.
we leave tomorrow night. no more commuter trains. no more toll roads (for awhile.) no more chi-town . . . more of well . . . more of nothing really, but a beautiful sort of nothing
speaking of beauty . . . i ultimately stand corrected on the subject of chicago. my first venture through its city limits left me bitter and bent on spouting verbal ill-will on the subject of the windy city (tornado watches tonight until 5am) . . . the hawkins’ family trip west brought us up i-90/94 during some period of traffic where each driver was more despicable than the last (the likes of which not had not been seen since the empire state.) the combination of shitty drivers, hot and muggy weather, and unspectacular road-side scenery (save the tall tall [lego] sears tower) inspired us to write haiku after haiku about how much chi-town blew {see previous posts} that next fall, i came out here and my mind was changed. this time around, however, i’ve turned completely. i dig chicago. maybe it’s the tacos . . . maybe it’s the whole da bears thing . . . maybe it’s ditka . . . yeah it’s gotta be ditka . . . maybe it’s respect for the pumpkins and “the city by the lake” . . . maybe it’s the deep dish pizza [i have to eat some before i leave tomorrow, because we haven't yet] . . . maybe it’s the 312 and the interesting crew that’s big city – yet almost entirely not new york [unlike the star wars bar scene that is l.a.] . . . the onion is originally from chicago i hear . . . that might say at least some of it all
i believe no matter where you go . . . if you hit it from the right angle [take the right line into the loop / let the waves break where they will on the beaches (yes they have beaches) of lake michigan] there is no place on this planet you can really hate . . . you just have to be willing to make connections wherever connections may be made
the encore of the labron game just concluded on espn, c.d.t.
cleveland’s golden son was running against ghost-man jordan; the bartender at the cleveland chophouse is probably shaking his head again - the streets are still really clean in cleveland, with streets mostly empty ["more traffic in ramsey during rush hour"] and the red line ascending L-side will still be ridden by exec-types reading the home&garden or whatever it’s called section of the nytimes who keeps eying the midwest reincarnation of the girl in bronze - and it makes you think about what he’s thinking or anybody else on the L as they go to work from work in and out of compartmentalized parts of our city lives [almost interchangeable not only between days but between people, for we might trade them as easily as we trade pork, cattle, coffee, or whatever else is thrown around downtown by the tall lego building] the guy and the girl together talking and making incidental but obviously more than ok contact on the ride home . . . they’re talking about all sorts of things this and that and star wars and she just gets off the train no goodbye’s no nothing he puts on his i-pod . . . the object of the domesticated exec’s ride home affection has disappeared as well we disappear addison stop -> wrigleyville = where the post-college white kids live. cubs or white sox is more of socio-economic question than it is one of birth order [yankees / mets] but there is one thing we all can agree on . . . the way . . . the coach . . .
ditka.
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Posted in snapshots, travel at 1:49 am by electricvishnu
outside the federal building in cleveland
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Posted in snapshots, travel at 12:58 am by electricvishnu
click here for pics from the gem of lake erie
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