what was that? is that all there is? who is this? this is it.

There are books piling up here and there. Today the mail carrier delivered The Sun and The New Yorker and another used book from eBay, adding to the pile. There are other back-burner piles too and a little pile at the mothership as well.  There are not enough coffee breaks and train rides in my day to keep up with it all if my attention span for written material hovers in its current state. Fortunately it cycles through cycles, phasing in and out, now and then, more or less.  

here you are

you super usurper

you are here

please take a moment

to locate 

the fresh hop

nearest you

keep in mind

it may be 

behind you

however

happy hour

begins at 2

hands

little Big Time hands

reachin’ out

touchin’ me

touchin’  you

Pilder, a regular-regular, approaches the bar and signs the bunny ears with both hands to his head. No words are spoken. 

Yo-Adrienne smiles and says “shit yer pants” 

Pilder smiles and thinks, “you read my mind” as she pours him a Citra Pants. 

Big Time Brewery’s 

Citra Pants 

fresh hop IPA

checka checka

check it out

hands

tomato hands

reachin'   out

touchin' me

touchin' you

This recent work from the prolific Palo Alto artist, Thai Bui, speaks to me on several levels. Thai’s creativity, productivity and resource utilization are all top-notch. His work inspires a scrappy artist like me. I like the way he combines various elements and materials for an end product like no other. 

"Free Beer Tomorrow" signs always bring me joy. Toss in a crab and a forklift and it’s quite a concoction. 

As I smiled and stared at this work my mind travelled to a forklift photo. Not just any old stock photo, but one I took one day while I was standing by, kicking rocks at Two Union. So I reached into my photographic memory to find it, and then I found it. It’s all coming back to me, 17 years later. Full circle. Full disclosure. Full on Kevin’s mom.  

Q: Why'd you take a picture of a forklift?

A: because it was there

What if you saw a forklift moving a large FREE DRINKS TOMORROW sign down Union Street and there was a giant crab waddling along next to it holding a tether?

Would you take a picture? 

Many moons ago one of my neighbors put a stack of Klosterman books in the little free library and I snagged all of them. I read Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs and then passed it on to Russell. Then I read a couple stories in this collection before stashing it away in my book collection at the Mothership.

Today thumbing through the pile for some reading material, this book called out to me. Ideal subject matter  for a dark, gloomy, overcast Seattle morning with a 167% chance of rain. 

I sincerely appreciate Klosterman in small doses. Short stories are just the ticket. His wide ranging intellect is impressive, from music, to football, to science, to crime, history, geography, psychology, cats, food, sex, alcohol, you name it. I wouldn’t want to be in the car with him on a long road trip. But I enjoy his short stories. Fictional Nonfiction is right up my alley. 

repeat after me

as often as necessary

fishes of the Salish Sea

raised in captivity

repeated repeatedly

repeat after me

"popdresssitting" by Diane Olivier 2010

We were browsing in a used bookstore yesterday when Junior-Junior found these shit-list tags to help me - and to help you too - get the hint. 100 cute little post-it notes with arrows and various shit variations. 

$1.49 well spent. 

U WON’T

BELIEVE

THIS SHIT

I’ve had this sign for years. 5+ years ago somebody somehow knocked it off a sign post where the Burke-Gilman crosses Brooklyn. I eyed it on the ground for days and days until I finally picked it up on an electric ass bathtub. I like to think I didn’t steal it, I just offered it a new home. Taken out of context and put back in, in my garage. 

Later on I added the 7s. A pair of UW Surplus address numbers to create 07s. If that means nothing to you that’s ok. It speaks to me and my bike messenger history. 

Not until yesterday did I notice the official sign code: 

Spot on. How could I have not noticed that before? I walk past that sign so many times a day, everyday. On a Saturday fork-swap-day multiply by 10. Have we talked about this already? Pondering life’s problems with a can of Rainier sometimes opens my eyes to new things. Or it helps me see old things in new ways:

SEATTLE  07-2

SEATTLE  07-2

SEATTLE  07-2

07:07

07:07

07:07

That’s the soundtrack of conformity

emanating from the lobby

put on a happy face

play   it   again

play the part

play   along

play dumb

play nice

pumpkin spice

don’t ask questions

swallow  it  whole

take another pill

take a number

get    in    line

you’ll be fine