Baby - Os Mutantes

There was one time when I was spending a lot of time out in the hinterlands of the Bay Area. I would get a map, find some semi-remote destination, get on a bus and head off into the woods to go hiking and camping. I spent most of my nights outdoors, my legs were generally tired, I bathed when I got back to civilization, and I liked it that way. It was like voluntary sporadic homelessness, except I had a base-camp in civilization to which I could return. In any case, one night when I was camped up in the hills of the Point Reyes National Seashore-- somewhere between Point Reyes Station and Bolinas-- I was listening to the radio as night fell and I happened upon the college station where they were playing the strangest line-up of Mexican metal bands and this Brazilian group called Os Mutantes. Turns out Os Mutantes was big in Brazil at around the time of the Beatles and was part of that whole explosion of brilliant rock during the 60s and 70s. Much of their oeuvre is insane, quirky, fun experimental stuff (reminiscent of the Beatles' more experimental work), but I fell immediately in love with this one track "Baby," which is a little ballad with a sparse instrumental track. I just love it. It doesn't really matter what it means exactly. There's just something refreshing and simple about it that stands the test of time. For me, at least. It also takes me back to that campsite in the woods, where I hiked for two days straight through beautiful coastal woodlands and along the rugged seashore. How do you beat that?

Pumpkin Master!

So two Saturdays ago, my son and I went to see a movie at the mall. We went a little early so that we could swing by the Farmer's Market. When we got off the bus, the first thing my son ran to was the "Guess the Weight of the Giant Pumpkin!" exhibit. What he wanted to do was draw all over the little pieces of paper that were out for people who wanted to guess the weight. He also wanted to write his name. So I was saying, "Good job! I like your train... oh, look, that's a letter 'i'," and stuff like that. So my son says, "You do one, Papa!" I look at the form, eyeball the pumpkin and say to myself, "What the heck. I know pumpkins. I've lifted plenty." I think for about five seconds, comparing a few weights in my mind and then write down 211 lbs., my address, and slip it in the box. I think no more of it. A couple of days ago I get this letter in the mail that says I won! Not only did I win, but I guessed the weight *exactly*! What are the chances of that? Just call me "Pumpkin Master." Send me your pictures and I'll guess your weight, too!

In Memory of Those Who Have Gone Ahead of Me

I find myself writing this entry, just a couple of days after Día de los Muertos. I put up some remembrances of Holly. I suppose I can post pictures here later. October was also a month to remember my dear friend and co-worker, Tanisha, who as called to glory on 10/26/09. Never her equal shall I meet here on earth. I am getting better at celebrating these times when I turn my memory back to people who have gone before me, but it is still mostly sadness that I feel. No longer regret. No longer guilt or agony. Just sadness. In any case, here is a Laura Jansen song that I've enjoyed listening to recently [although I'm certain that I am taking some liberties with the meaning]: Laura Jansen - The End And here, also, is a picture of the indomitable little Hollywog, whose battle started when she was only eight years old.