Month: April 2011

elbows

My left elbow is always ashier than than my right, and I always think about this. It isn’t the vanity of it, because it’s an elbow for fuck’s sake, but the asymmetry kind of bothers me. Ashy, not ashy. What could cause this? Sleeping patterns? Leaning on one side more than the other? Diet imbalance?

Today, I was looking at photos of Cessnas and the views from the inside the cockpit. Here’s the cockpit of an older model 172:

cessna-cockpit

Ain’t that a sight?

Cessnas are my favorite. They’re small, not cumbersome, and the maneuverability is pretty good for a single engine from what I’ve been told. It reminds me of sitting in my old ‘78 Nova before I wrecked it. The one with the bench seats. It even had red interiors, just like this photo. I used to drive up and down the 405 late at night, around 2 or 3 in the morning, and listen to music on the old radio. Rock, usually. Metallica if it was a good night, back then. There were hardly any other cars and I could drive, brother, drive and drive. Just coast along with all my windows open and that V8 tearing the place up. Of all my incidents with the law, I was never caught speeding. And I’ve never been convicted of anything anyway, so who knows. I’m not going to say what you’re thinking. When I drive I like the windows open, feel the wind of each time and place, like the sea mist, the choking exhaust of the trucks near the port, the low clouds high up in the mountains. I did this in my Nova. I’ve done this in every vehicle I’ve owned. And I did this the few times I’ve flown in a Cessna. It’s got windows, and if one is inclined you can open them up and just let that wind way up there flow in, drowning out everything but the sound of your voice into the headset. Lean that elbow out the window…

So that was the moment. The realization. I always drive with my left elbow sticking out of the driver’s/pilot’s side window. Always. Rain or shine, you’ll see me with that elbow poking out of there. The right elbow just sits inside, safe from the elements.

Ashy, not ashy.

Such a beautiful process.

elbows

My left elbow is always ashier than than my right, and I always think about this. It isn’t the vanity of it, because it’s an elbow for fuck’s sake, but the asymmetry kind of bothers me. Ashy, not ashy. What could cause this? Sleeping patterns? Leaning on one side more than the other? Diet imbalance?

Today, I was looking at photos of Cessnas and the views from the inside the cockpit. Here’s the cockpit of an older model 172:

cessna-cockpit

Ain’t that a sight?

Cessnas are my favorite. They’re small, not cumbersome, and the maneuverability is pretty good for a single engine from what I’ve been told. It reminds me of sitting in my old ‘78 Nova before I wrecked it. The one with the bench seats. It even had red interiors, just like this photo. I used to drive up and down the 405 late at night, around 2 or 3 in the morning, and listen to music on the old radio. Rock, usually. Metallica if it was a good night, back then. There were hardly any other cars and I could drive, brother, drive and drive. Just coast along with all my windows open and that V8 tearing the place up. Of all my incidents with the law, I was never caught speeding. And I’ve never been convicted of anything anyway, so who knows. I’m not going to say what you’re thinking. When I drive I like the windows open, feel the wind of each time and place, like the sea mist, the choking exhaust of the trucks near the port, the low clouds high up in the mountains. I did this in my Nova. I’ve done this in every vehicle I’ve owned. And I did this the few times I’ve flown in a Cessna. It’s got windows, and if one is inclined you can open them up and just let that wind way up there flow in, drowning out everything but the sound of your voice into the headset. Lean that elbow out the window…

So that was the moment. The realization. I always drive with my left elbow sticking out of the driver’s/pilot’s side window. Always. Rain or shine, you’ll see me with that elbow poking out of there. The right elbow just sits inside, safe from the elements.

Ashy, not ashy.

Such a beautiful process.

these here woods

Look, all I’m saying is we’re going to walk into these here woods, maybe drunk, maybe high, wander in a ways, get our shoes and cuffs wet, down to the socks, the toes, get smacked around by branches and their prissy leaves, then the pines will give us the business, red cheeks getting redder, stumble around like we’re 17 again, say it’s darkness, cold to the bone and soul, look for a place not thick with brambles and trees, find a sort of clearing, not a real one, a place with no moon nor stars, no place to sit but some trees to lean against, laugh because we’re stupid, like this, hopping glad, get real close when we realize we’re lost, laugh again, pray in our heads to something holy, get turned on by the hopelessness of everything, and fuck, probably not for very long, mood being what it is, but just long enough to remember that we can and so we do, right there and then.

these here woods

Look, all I’m saying is we’re going to walk into these here woods, maybe drunk, maybe high, wander in a ways, get our shoes and cuffs wet, down to the socks, the toes, get smacked around by branches and their prissy leaves, then the pines will give us the business, red cheeks getting redder, stumble around like we’re 17 again, say it’s darkness, cold to the bone and soul, look for a place not thick with brambles and trees, find a sort of clearing, not a real one, a place with no moon nor stars, no place to sit but some trees to lean against, laugh because we’re stupid, like this, hopping glad, get real close when we realize we’re lost, laugh again, pray in our heads to something holy, get turned on by the hopelessness of everything, and fuck, probably not for very long, mood being what it is, but just long enough to remember that we can and so we do, right there and then.