Any Day Now...

essay

In listing reasons to leave Los Angeles I realized I missed one:

Having to keep endless schedules.

Whomever designed our current society must have believed that people are liabilities unless strictly regulated, so set about regulating them with things like bills and jobs and yes, schedules. So you think you're terribly efficient because you have a handle on your life? Guess what... you've been played. The keepers of How It Works have you suckered hook, line and sinker.

All of those (like me) who have given up the daily grind, the rat race have learned an important lesson:

There's more than one way to live... and some ways make you feel a lot better than others.

Sure, society would collapse if EVERYONE decided to take a long walk instead of doing their part to keep it running. I'm not advocating that we all should drop everything and become bums. But I AM suggesting each of us do it at least once in our lives, for no other reason than to develop a unique perspective. And not just go on vacation... that's just putting life on temporary hold. No, to get the full experience you have to chuck it, send it packing. Sell your house. Quit your job of 20 years. Stop all the monthly bills.

Is that the same as becoming a vagrant, a bum, a LOSER? I'm sure many people would say so. However, I think if that is what they believe then they are so firmly enmeshed in society's current layout that they cannot see another way to live. They are addicted to the 'pat on the back' which comes (whether real or imagined) when they've 'succeeded'; paying off loans, achieving free and clear ownership, climbing to the top of the food chain. Well, if it works for them...

Of course, I say all this from the wrong end of my 'walkabout'. I still haven't left yet. Not YET. What I'm doing right now, in effect, is simply stringing small vacations together after having closed up life in LA. It could easily be confused with spending some time in aimless pursuits before beginning a new job in another city. And truly, that might be exactly what I end up doing, because I surely don't have enough capital to wander for the rest of my life (unless the rest of my life is exceedingly short). I'm not going to think about that right now, because if I did, I'd be falling back into the trap of being addicted to a schedule. At some point though, I'm gonna have to ask myself why I haven't left yet.

Since my last entry:

I entertained myself on the fourth of July with the fireworks over Laughlin, which started with a bang. Not being cutesy. The people in charge of blowing things up in that gambling town have an agreement with the Avi casino some ten miles away, which is to not shoot fireworks at the same time. This year Avi went first, and when they were finished, they sent a flare up to cue the Laughlin fireworks group. Why they couldn't use a phone is beyond me. After hanging in the air for a few minutes, lighting up the night sky, the flare emitted a huge explosion. And then it began, 28 minutes of firework frenzy. Most of the charges were smaller multicolored affairs which burst low in the sky. Every fifteen or so explosions a huge one, at least double in explosive power, would be sent high into the sky to deliver an enormous circle of light, culminating in some interesting fiery dance. Pretty standard stuff, but its banality did not matter because I love fireworks, even the lowly ash can or bottle rocket.

I said it lasted 28 minutes. It was scheduled to be a half-hour show, but during the finale climax one of those huge fireworks which normally blow high in the sky, blew LOW in the sky. Real low. So low that it looked like a half circle of fire instead of a full one.

I knew what that meant-- a firework dud had screwed up their schedule and sure enough, the show trickled off after the few remaining charges in that battery. Then, darkness ensued-- for a few long, quiet minutes! Finally, one small, sad, unadorned rocket went up, did its thing and fizzled the show to a close. I'm sure there was plenty to see on the ground however, as fire crews almost certainly were putting out a multitude of fires along the Laughlin strip, but we were located too far away to see THAT action.

The next morning we headed back, hoping to miss the traffic which always packs the freeways after a long weekend and did so, although by the merest of gaps. Thanks to the 'magic' of GPS, we were given so many wrong roadways to follow we almost ended up in LA. I mean Louisiana. Fortunately we had travelled this route before and were able to correct the GPS with a series of smaller goals-- take us to Barstow. Point us to Victorville. Find your way to San Berdoo. That sort of thing. It was like training a cab driver with few english skills. Good boy! And at each point where we stopped for a breather or for a gas-up or to rub our numb asses, the temperature outside dropped a few blessed degrees until we had worked our way up from the deepest bowels of Hell that was Laughlin, passing the steamy but cooler banks of the river Styx I'm calling the river Colorado, concluding at a chilly but equally unpleasant San Dimas, the cold day in hell itself.

Finally I'm ready to go. I've sorted and resorted through my travel gear, sifting and refining to lighten the load (do I really need to bring a wire brush and a gallon of bleach? Or a set of laminated croquet mallets? Or a travel Jacuzzi?) and am waiting for the guy who wants to sell me a used laptop for the road to show up. He calls and my ex answers. Did I mention I'm staying at her house for the interim? She begins to grill him about the laptop he has, and after a minute of heated exchange she gives me the low sign. I'm not getting his laptop.

"He's trying to sell you a five year old computer," she chides. "It might as well be steam-powered.

"But he was gonna give me a discount because years ago I hung out with a rock band he loves!" I had been looking forward to the looks of admiration as I told him some juicy band secrets, watching the total get lower and lower as I spoke.

"He should pay you to buy that crap. I'll get you a better one. Watch." And watch I did. She hit Craig's List and called all the applicable potentials. She made phone inquiries to some of her contacts. She conjured up the Demon spirit Rachskellar to arrange for a soul trade. Finally, worn and steaming, she staggered over and said, "Let's go to Best Buy and check for open boxes. So we did.

I'm writing to you all right now on a brand new MacBook, a cute little white one with a 13" screen. It practically fits in my pocket. My ex wrangled and harassed a sales associate until he all but threw it at her for wholesale. "Get out and take your demon computational device with you!" I could imagine him shrieking at her, in his head. No matter... I have a computer!

Then it came... the payback. "After all my hard work, I have a favor to ask you," she said sweetly, or as sweetly as hellspawn can ask.

"Yes?" I asked quietly, squinting nervously.

"Let's go to Santa Barbara for the weekend!"

I let my breath out with a whoosh. "We just got back from Vegas! I'm supposed to get on the road for my vision quest! What about my schedule?"

"Screw the schedule! You don't have anywhere to be."

I realized that she was right. Screw the schedule indeed. We're going to Santa Barbara!