left without leaving

i definitely felt like i made progress (was productive) today. i like days like that, even when i'm feeling somewhat sick (cold). and the best part is i still found time to throw a frisbee and read more of my ishmael (loving that book).

i've never really been car sick before (maybe a little queasy when riding with my dad on winding gravel roads). but i have been sick on a boat one time. most of the time i really love being on boats and moving with the shifting floor of the boat. once we are out fishing - my dad, oldest brother, uncle, and i - on lake thompson. it was one of those days that our fishing endeavor was quite successful, and we didn't feel like putting in to shore as the wind was picking up, making waves that started at about one foot (top to trough). they steadily grew as we were catching northern pike of decent sizes and having a decent time. then as the wind continued picking up, our 16 foot long boat started rocking and crashing on the three feet high waves, with some four feet high sweels.

we started to head toward shore then, but being a ten year old that generally liked fishing hadn't really prepared me for dealing with this experience (especially since one of the mainstays in my playlist of nightmares involves dying while boating). i remember laying down on the bottom of the boat and huddling up as we moved in to shore, not knowing what else to do, but not liking it out there. for a young person that loved the water and fishing, this didn't change those loves, but they are certainly one of the moments when i've become more closely attuned to the weather - the wind, the cold, the snow mostly.

i am of course excited because i get to see the decemberists this friday (after giving a presentation on my research). this will be the second time (first being last spring), and i feel much more confident, knowing their music (even willing to say they are one of my favorite groups). so i hope that it's a great concert with good music and lots of fun. i can't wait.

on the bus mall by the decemberists

In matching blue raincoats,
our shoes were our show boats
we kicked around.
From stairway to station
we made a sensation
with the gadabout crowd.
And oh, what a bargain,
we’re two easy targets
for the old men at the off-tracks,
who’ve paid in palaver
and crumpled old dollars,
which we squirreled away
in our rat trap hotel by the freeway.
And we slept in Sundays.

Your parents were anxious,
your cool was contagious
at the old school.
You left without leaving
a note for your grieving
sweet mother, while
your brother was so cruel.
And here in the alleys
your spirits were rallied
as you learned quick to make a fast buck.
In bathrooms and barrooms,
on dumpsters and heirlooms,
we bit our tongues.
Sucked our lips into our lungs
'til we were falling.
Such was our calling.

And here in our hollow we fuse like a family,
but I will not mourn for you.
So take up your makeup
and pocket your pills away.
We’re kings among runaways
on the bus mall.
We’re down
on the bus mall.

Among all the urchins and old Chinese merchants
of the old town,
we reigned at the pool hall
with one iron cue ball
and we never let the bastards get us down.
And we laughed off the quick tricks--
the old men with limp dicks--
on the colonnades of the waterfront park.
As four in the morning came on, cold and boring,
we huddled close
in the bus stop enclosure enfolding.
Our hands tightly holding.

But here in our hollow we fuse like a family,
but I will not mourn for you.
So take up your makeup
and pocket your pills away.
We’re kings among runaways
on the bus mall.
We’re down
on the bus mall.
We’re down
on the bus mall.
Down on the bus mall.