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.