Me and Critter down by the schoolyard.

Critter is a Bigfoot and Critter is my friend. He hates this picture of himself but he said for whatever bizarre reason, that nearly all the pictures we have of him or any of his many friends all look the same. Traditionally, we believe we have one photograph of ONE Bigfoot when in reality, they are photographs of hundreds of different Sasquatch that simply appear to be the same to our untrained human eye. To my friend Critter, each photograph and each Bigfoot is hugely different. Critter looked me in the eye and said "It would be like if someone took a photograph of you and put it next to Yao Ming's or Gary Coleman's and said they were identical." I then asked him why all the photos were taken near the same dry creek bed. He laughed and said "Well, a lot of us live pretty close by and we thought it would be pretty funny to fuck with all your heads. Also, if the shit ever hits the fan, we thought it might be convenient if you thought there was only one of us out there." I took his point and resolved to not let my myopic naivety push me toward any Yeti generalizations.

Anyway, we have been having a ball ever since we met on the way to the beach. I was going for my morning jog when I saw this Bigfoot stretching near the public restrooms near State Beach. I asked him what he was doing at the beach and he said that he'd somehow gotten lost after a pretty "big night partying" up near Eugene, Oregon and found himself in Santa Monica. As far as the stretching, he simply said he'd never jogged in the soft sand and wanted to make sure he hadn't strained anything.

So that is how we met. He offered me some berries he'd found up above PCH which I respectfully accepted. He then asked me if I would show him around town bit, thinking he might as well soak up a few of the sights before heading north. He really wants to hit Universal Studios ("I will really scare the snot out of some kids") and check out some yoga.

I agreed and am writing this while he naps on my leather sofa in the other room. Surprisingly, he does not snore nor does he smell in the least bit. He is quite clean and fancies himself some sort of modern day dandy. Whoa, he is stirring, more to come later.

hello/goodbye

Over the last week, all the edges in my day have become gray and damp like a used auto parts magazine left in the rain. To quote a friend "It seems like I go too bed way too late, and wake up way too early. Too early for me." The magic in me is dull, worn and tired and without that, I can find little of it in the world around me. So I leave to tread water somewhere warm and look up and over for something else.

Do you feel like i do?

I saw Dan again. He looked lost but how can that be if you are searching to not be found? He'd be lost if he knew where he was. He was pulled over near Big Rock and I did the same. He invited me into the lava lamp warmth of his van and we pined over pictures of the two of us at Lunada Bay, Redondo Breakwater and 2nd row at Cal Jam II when we got loose with Frampton afterwards. Dan looked at me, Steely Dan massaging our backgrounds, and asked, "Do you feel like I do?"

I wished I honestly felt like he does.

Dan Blocker, Saint, Faerie.

I saw Dan briefly, edging Hwy 1 as the sun was making its evening adieus. Like a bronzed shadow chased by offshore winds and his stringy blond hair. Naturally, his trusty stead was grazing nearby, his 1975 Chevy van, its side made up like a mirror to the vista it faced. He grinned at me, smiling to say he remembered when we sat together waiting for that one wave, and when we sat waiting for the man. Like everything else, he was gone quicker than the last notes of Grand Funk jam. The last thing I saw was his 7'6" pintail fasted atop his ride, his beacon, his lighthouse, the tuning fork of his life.

Sunshine on My Shoulder

Makes me happy. John Denver was a modern day Faerie. That is so clear to me now. As a kid, he just seemed like this super far out Dude my mom listened to while making zucchini casserole but he has become something else to me now. He has always been there, standing still and quiet while I have flitted around, flirting with everything but the truth. He understood that beneath our Downy soft velour, our tight jeans, we are all in a desperate search for the sweet coolness of a Rocky Mountain High. I can now see John like this gentle Wizard, perched at the peak of a mountain, singing, strumming waving for us all to come join him. He is with me most during my early AM jogs as I slowly trace a small piece of the California coastline. I look further west and his soft focus face sits above the horizon, beaming like a recently lit doobie, brother.

Find your faerie, they are all around us.

See me, feel me.

Rainy Day in LA

I have had both feet fixed for too long to the dry brick and dusty mortar of my today. Where did my never never land wander off to? Why can't I hear its quiet, sweet hum? What shadow did it deftly slip off into while my gaze has been idly distracted by all the dull marching hours of everyman's everyday? No magic lives between the channels of daytime TV or behind the world of the wide web. Stuck like an old man with no bus fare in Glendale, I have sat and stared at people staring at me. That is all we do. Look at each other doing nothing. Reality TV reminds me too much of, well, reality. I am at that quiet crossroads where you either get into some serious hood rat shit, or you find some magic and have high tea with an elf.

So I am looking for an elf in the alleyways of the westside and on the street corners of my mind.

Join me as I light the faerie torch and forget all my yesterdays that I spent on all my tomorrows.

little people are full of faerie fire

Last week, I took to my wings and made my way to our country's heartland, Boulder CO where I spent time with my family and a lot of deer and Subaru Outbacks. I am not the first one to notice the amazing number of Subarus and similar vehicles in Boulder but it's still worth noting. In classic liberal counter culture fashion, they all look and talk the same up there. "Free Tibet." Everywhere. Why not "Free Kabrini Green?" or "Free New Orleans" or "Free Detroit." I guess they don't make for as compelling stickers/t-shirts. I assume most people in Boulder have not traveled to Tibet but somehow share some magical and deep affinity with its denizens. I have been to Detroit, south Chicago and New Orleans and I KNOW they need something more than what they have been dealt. And they are a lot closer to home than Tibet.


Anyway, I wore my "McCain is my homeboy" t-shirt and did not make many friends. Only the deer and my faerie nieces would talk to me and even they, with great reluctance. Little people are faeries.