hi. over the weekend i drove up to fort bragg where i saw massive amounts of hitchhiking neohippy types walking down the road. but that's not why i drove up there. i drove up there to pick up my mom from a horse riding trip that she had been on for a week. on saturday i drove up to fort bragg and observed many a hitchhiker and wondered if that was the way it always was in fort bragg. combine this with "already dead" the denis johnson novel i've been reading that is full of northern california burnout types and i got a creepy feeling about fort bragg but it probably isn't as bad as denis johnson makes it out to be. at the time that was okay because there was cable television at the hotel i was staying at and watched again the movie michael clayton. that is a supremely excellent movie. highly recommended. i wrote a poem about it even. that's how much i like that movie. so satisfying and slightly slightly metaphysical, he walks up the hill to see the horses and his car blows up. but why did he walk up that hill to see the horses? the entire movie serves to answer that question and then resolves with a highly satisfying ending. it reminds me of the same kind of satisfaction i got from watching the virgin suicides where you know how the movie ends sort of but forget about when watching the movie. i just got an email from erkia and she wondered what i was up to because this blog doesn't actually reveal anything.
events continued: i picked up my mother on sunday morning from the horse ranch a sprawling do it oneself bed and breakfast called the howard creek inn built entirely by a man who told my mother and i that he told his wife he was going out to get ice cream when he was twenty eight and had made a lot of money from television and never came back and instead ended up in northern california where nobody was living thirty years ago and you could pretty much just find houses and furniture and wood and build things out of them, such as his sprawling bed and breakfast. try dying and get rich. he recommend being homeless and i suggested we talk about it when my mother isn't around. but today was funny, the museums being closed my mom was really into the "go cars" the little scooters that tourists rent to see the city so after work that's what we did and though i was supremely embarrassed for a little while i got used to it and it was actually kind of fun to ride around in the goofy little machine that people smile at but you're not sure why. tomorrow we're going to alcatraz. yup. living large. turns out that there was some kind of music festival by fort bragg thus explaining all the hitchhikers.
events continued: i picked up my mother on sunday morning from the horse ranch a sprawling do it oneself bed and breakfast called the howard creek inn built entirely by a man who told my mother and i that he told his wife he was going out to get ice cream when he was twenty eight and had made a lot of money from television and never came back and instead ended up in northern california where nobody was living thirty years ago and you could pretty much just find houses and furniture and wood and build things out of them, such as his sprawling bed and breakfast. try dying and get rich. he recommend being homeless and i suggested we talk about it when my mother isn't around. but today was funny, the museums being closed my mom was really into the "go cars" the little scooters that tourists rent to see the city so after work that's what we did and though i was supremely embarrassed for a little while i got used to it and it was actually kind of fun to ride around in the goofy little machine that people smile at but you're not sure why. tomorrow we're going to alcatraz. yup. living large. turns out that there was some kind of music festival by fort bragg thus explaining all the hitchhikers.
