Musical landscape of my life

Monday was tough enough. A long distance run to the end of the state and back. Radio is always mixed and spotty in-between Trinidad and Denver. I do my best, now that I am on the road most of the work week, to keep up with the times with NPR. The president's visit to Puerto Rico and the tragedy in Las Vegas dominated the news. It wasn't until I got home that my sweetness told me, as she cruised through her Facebook feed, that Tom Petty had passed away that afternoon.

My first reaction was "WHAT?" Rarely much of anything pulls me away from my reading that but information stopped me in my tracks. What was even more  unusual was that I didn't get up to scan the news on the internet. Everything came to a stand still. I was too stunned to do anything more than shut off my bedside light and go to sleep.

The next day I read what I could handle and began what has been a week long state of denial. It wasn't until this morning that I came across enclosed article and photo spread in the LA Times and finally came to accept the loss of Tom Petty, arguably the greatest rock and roll influence of my life.,

Sure, the Stones are up there, along with Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin and Nirvana. The Beatles, the Beach Boys, Joan Jett, Isley Brothers, Queen, BB King, David Bowie, Blondie, the B-52s all colored the musical soundscape of my life, too, but it was Tom Petty, solo and with the Heartbreakers, that consistently showed up just when I needed him most.

I first heard American Girl in the data processing shop on board the Blueridge. That sound of his was infectious and that cassette, along with Damn the Torpedoes, went into heavy rotation wherever we went. The Heartbreakers followed me home from the service and have been a constant part of the soundtrack of my life. Many events, from tamale parties to acid trips to throwing my father's ashes onto the Mojave sands, were colored by his songs. Free Fallin' is a background song right now as everyone seems to be playing it in remembrance, but for me, when I hear it, it takes me back to my Aunt Mary Jo's little back yard house in Burbank. I stayed there the night before I headed off into the desert with my father's remains. Some of the us had gone out on his boat earlier in the day, spread half of his ash on the slight swell of the Pacific. That evening, after copious beers, I caught Tom's video on tv, thought it great and poignant. With my father gone, a new baby to learn about, a girlfriend who always seemed to be in flight and a new position in a far away city to deal with I felt my life was in a state of free falling, too.

Years later all is well as I am as happy as a man could be. Then comes the events of the week. And the passing of Tom. Read the articles posted below to catch the flavor of a man who just came off a long six month tour. Take a look at the photos to see a man very much, very vibrantly, alive.

Life is short. Embrace the moment. Be sure to love.

And thanks, Tom, for all the good sounds. You will be missed.

Salud!

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/music/la-et-ms-tom-petty-the-final-interview-20171004-story.html

http://www.latimes.com/visuals/photography/la-me-genaro-molina-tom-petty-20171004-htmlstory.html

Surfing in Cambodia: a strain review

Today I decided to play mad scientist. What got me going was reading through a blog post from a grower who liked to mix and match his herbal bounty. He felt that just smoking one strain at a time was not sufficient. In order to get really high, he said, you had to mix up four or five different strains at one time and then fire it up.

Well, there are days that I am what I read and today I decided to take up this man's advice. Who am I to get in the way of science? After the family departed and I got my first round of housework out of the way I found myself with a bit of time to mess about in my sticker patched trunk, I dug around through my strain jars, read up on what the strains consisted of, broke them down and did my best to try to get to the bottom of how they were supposed to make you feel, just like I did earlier on with my Blue Dream experiment. That day I was the investigative reporter of my dreams, out there witnessing the fun and glory of Super Silver Haze and Blueberry strains, finding out what kinds of highs they were, all on their own. I thought, why stop there? I was just about to start to break those two strains down to their land race elements when I came across the above mentioned article. Why breed a new strain in the hothouse when I could make up things in the kitchen instead?

I have to admit that I was comforted knowing that my company does pretty much the same thing when they make up their oil products. They will take a five or so flower strains, grind them up and then gather together all that flowery goodness into one big CO2 processor and make the delicious oils we are known for all over Colorado. I know I will never go quite so crazy as that. I like to have small fun, instead. Instead, I take a look at my holdings, take out three or four kinds of cannabis that might go well together and then I take a bit of bud from each jar and grind them up. My Mendo Mulcher has been a radically grand toy to have around, especially for projects like this. Every time I mix up a batch the closet that I am squirreled away in goes from being a mere storage room for our clothes to a opulent, grand scented hashishin's den.

Today I smoked a sample of a blend I call "Surfing in Cambodia". It is a mix of Chemdog, Skunk No. 1 and a Phnom Penh strain I found awhile back at Verts in Fort Collins. I have to admit that I did use it on top of an earlier application of Viet Thai, a truly stellar, ceiling-less  sativa. The total sum of those herb pools mixed together was, to say in the least, very stony, indeed. What I experienced was what I have been looking for out of an herb for quite a long time. It had the high, open ceiling of a quality sativa, the goofy, smiley goodness of a fine hybrid and the happy, couch locky feeling that I have been craving out of an indica. I guess when you add up all the the strains in the above mix...Colombian, Mexican, Thai, Afghani, Cambodian...you should expect a nice compounded sativa head high and a righteous indica body stone. When I mixed it up I did give it some thought and it turned out just like I wanted. A short, pleasant moon shot and then a nice afternoon spent on the couch watching Tony Jaa.

I have a few others blends I have been messing with but have yet to sample. It's been fun accumulating land races and simple strains like Northern Lights, AK-47, Acapulco Gold and Maui Wowie. It's been like getting out ingredients in the kitchen and pulling together a nice pan of cookies. And just like those treats coming out of the oven, I get to be baked, too. Huzzah!

Salud!

Eye up in space

What a day! Not my day, per se. Mine's been nice and simple. A bit of housework, a run to recycling, a touch of weed sampling and now dinner coming up. Rather, I was thinking of the planet orbiter Cassini. Today it is ending it's career in the atmosphere of Saturn. All those years up there all alone, using the gravity of Titan to swing around the big gas giant, snapping a bounty of photos of rings, moons and our little planet Earth from oh so many millions of miles away.

Take a moment to read through the article below snatched out of the New York Times. Dig into it a bit and read the accompanying article that highlights 100 photos from the space mission. It was pennies on the dollar well spent, a program that was close to not going up at all. We are all so much the better for having sent that bit of metal out there to do our investigative work for us. No dogs, monkeys or people were harmed in the snapping of those photos.

Yeah, money well spent, US and European alike. We do all sorts of outrageous things with our government dollars. We wage war on drugs, we lock people up in prison, we pay the salaries of many Republican congressmen who go out of their way to impede the will of the people and we, unfortunately, send a lot of good folks off to fight little brown skinned people in far away foreign lands. But on the good side, we help restore lives after horrific natural events, we feed kids free lunches, we conserve land through public parks, we fund museums and libraries and through cool agencies like NASA we send elaborate devices out into the heavens to get the best photos of planets money can buy.

I thought it was a mighty big thing, as a boy, to watch the moon landings on an old black and white set, fuzzy connection and all. To put folks on the moon was awesome, something we have not duplicated or replicated on other moons since. While we're waiting to go again we send other kinds of crafts out into the solar system and beyond, just to see what we can see. Cassini was a by product of the Voyager program. That one passed by the big guy and we said, holy cow, we gotta see more of this!

Well, we did and here you go. To see the results of what that orbiter sent back is and will always be, I imagine, mind blowing and never to be duplicated. The magnificent, fear inducing winter storms swirling the atmospheric surface above Jupiter, the geysers on Enceladus sending off salt water plumes into space that settle back down onto the planet as alien snow, the many moons of Saturn weaving beautiful woven patterns into the planet's rings, is the stuff of fantasy. Our THC addled brains, always awake and thrilled to witness new and ever present wonders, could never, in a lifetime of toking, come up with the wonders of the imagery you are about to witness. This is no science fiction CGI, no movie studio magic, no work of pen or paint. This is the real deal.

So, fire up a bowl and get ready to have your imagination be fired up, too.

Thanks, Cassini for sending back all those mighty fine images. May your molecules find happiness there on the surface of Saturn.

Salud!

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/09/14/science/cassini-grand-finale-saturn.html?emc=eta1

Tired, satisfied, happy

It has been two weeks now. 40 hour work weeks compressed into four days. Two hours worth of commuting each day. Up at five, home after six, sometimes as late as nine. But you know, I am happy as all get out. Don't want to say I am having fun, mind you. Said that once to my true love and we had to have a discussion about what it means to have fun at work But happy? Hell yes. Satisfied with my choice? Damn straight. Tired? Yeah, driving will do that to a man.

I know, though, that I made the right choice, and it goes beyond not finding interested folks who want to hire me cluttering up my email box. This feeling, this sense of certainty, takes me back to when I first started library work in the 80's. There was a passion about that work back then that drove me to take on difficult assignments, put in the long hours, move across state lines and do all the extra curricular stuff that was necessary to do not only to get ahead but to make my mark in the profession. I feel that that kind of passion again and know that it is possible to make a real go of it here in the cannabis industry. If these past two weeks are any indication of what is coming up, but more, what is possible, well, then, I am completely signed up, ready and totally on board.

Being a Distribution Driver has been a nice way to get my foot in the door of this industry, but what is even better is working for a firm that has folks out in the world singing praises about the product and clamoring for more. My territory for driving is essentially the entire state of Colorado. I have been on the road from day one. I learned all about what it took to handle manifests and travel apps from my ski board buddy Chas, but everything else I needed to learn about this job and our product I've had to get from initiative and verve. What is great, though, is that everyone I've met is happy on the job. Folks are kind, ready with help and answers to questions. I have a newish Suburu Forester to drive, an Iphone to navigate with and a hell of a great product to deliver. Half of what I do is driving, the other is being a happy face and good representative of the product. Every day I pinch myself. How can a guy get to be so lucky?

I start my day in the kitchen, helping out where I can until I get my stack of shipping manifests for the day. I have had a chance to witness the whole process of CO2 cannabis oil processing, from start to finish, and what a process it is. My side of the house has been mainly packaging. I get to blister seal cartridges of oil, label the packages and handle all the various parts of the process. While I stand there wrapping bundles or folding instruction sheets I get to stand in a space that, while radically well handled and ventilated by an industrial strength HVAC system, is suffused with cannabis odors and molecules. Call me a lightweight but I know that when massive pans of ground cannabis are decarbing in the oven or when large Pyrex dishes of oil are being heated and stirred to make them easier to handle while loading up syringes, I can't help but to get a little bit high. Last week, first week on the job, I had to take regular breaks from the building just to clear my head,. And to think I am getting paid to work! Wow!

But the best part of the job has been the driving. And while it generally means a solid ten hour day behind the wheel with the slight promise of an occasional break, it is something that I find invigorating and exciting all at the same time. I have a decent navigational GPS app that I call Reggie. With his voice softly purring in a strong British accent in the background, I manage to get from point A to point B and back again every driving day. I have been getting used to the roads in and around Denver but the big thrills have been hitting the highway for long trips. In the past two weeks I have gone as far south as South Pueblo, as far north as Steamboat Springs and have had a chance to cross the continental divide and take on the nifty little art town of Gunnison. I been up to Central City and Idaho Springs, old Rocky Mountain mining towns caught up in tourism and casinos.

I have had a chance to visit old dispensary haunts like Verts and Oasis, have run into old bud tenders who have moved around and moved up in the industry, have had a chance to see and explore tons of new and enticing dispensaries like Lucy Sky in Denver and Green Tree in Boulder. One of the best things to happen to my budget has been this job. I see and am surrounded by mota every day. Every run I make I get to chat with the dispensary owners about our products and before I go ask them about their latest, hottest flower products. I get to look at premium buds every day and every day I get to pass them by. Well, until two days ago. I found a strain that I had only read about that I had to buy. Viet Thai. A strain review ab out that will certainly come around later.

What has been such a gas, though, more than anything, is that I am finding that our product sells itself. I go around and drop off boxes with folks and they ask me, where have I been, we needed this yesterday but today will be fine! Patrons and customers can't get enough. The pen is built like a tank, the cartridges don't leak and the oil is super refined, pure and tasty. I can't wait to try it!

Yeah, I am super fine and beyond happy. I took the long road to get into the industry but I think, if we can continue to afford it, I would like to stick around awhile to see what happens. Right now I am making small money but I think if all goes well, if I continue to shine and make this product do so as well it will turn into something truly grand.

Fix your sights on your dreams and just maybe, your dreams will come true. Mine did, may yours come true as well.

Salud!

Blueberry strain, a review

I am a completeist.

I am a guy who really likes to go through lists, see what it is that I am missing. Lists let me ponder what I need to be able to have the complete experience.  I like to gather before me the entire set of something, say that I have gone through the entire run of a series from A to Z. Most of the time this is damned near impossible to do. Nobody can have everything. And yet, trying to amass the whole shebang of something can be a whole heck of a lot of fun.

When I first started blogging I went by Accumulate Man; that in itself should say something about me. I gather things around me just to see what kinds of satisfaction I can get out of the experience. I love the thrill of the hunt, the research that goes into learning about the new, talking with folks about the goods I'm seeking out, marking the miles in the car just to see how lucky I can get further down the road. None of this is new to me or other people in my life as I've been doing this for years. I do it with music, with film, with art. Did for a while with cookbooks, with professional cooking gear, with costumes for Ren Faire. I still look for crystal champagne flutes, kaleidoscopes, folks masks, coffee table books and cool outsider art.

As a kid I first went nuts for Tonkas, then Matchbox cars, then Hot Wheels. I took that toy thing and replicated those feelings of completeness when my kids were little. Did my best to have all the Brio and Thomas the Tank Engine stuff, all the superhero figurines, all the Star Wars junk a person could amass. Even went back in time with a checkbook and started up again with toy soldiers. Got so bad and had so much stuff in that department that I started up an online business just to keep the household from rioting

Collecting can be fun but it takes up a lot of time and dedication, not to mention space. Moving that stuff costs a lot. When I get ready to take off to new destinations I tend to sell things at ridiculously low prices, dial up the phone numbers of second hands that are willing to pick things up at the house. I have gotten to know the ins and outs of selling on Craigslist and Ebay.

In some cases I have even left collections behind, a sure sign of accumulation mania. In fact I still have a storage space I pay on monthly in Washington State. Laser discs, old electronics, LP records, furniture that my ex insists the kids will use when they grow up. The only thing keeping me from just giving it all over to that reality tv show is an old trunk full of photos, old family stuff, that I can’t in my wildest nightmares picture being tossed onto a landfill heap. So I pay and know that someday I will open up that storage space door and wonder, as I look inside at all the junk moldering away, what the hell was I thinking.

Being a completeist is spendy, especially when you find yourself needing to own all the records that The Feelies put out or the complete run of all the films that Warren Oates starred in. Being a completeist means you get out a list and then do your best to get through it. I like to think that my bucket list is still out there, waiting for me to fill it out. I am sure that there are still plenty of other lists to make. I like to feel that my desire to ride all the best roller coasters, sip all the best beers in Colorado and travel to see all the state capitols is still in reach.

Now tackling Leafly, that is another thing entirely. Talk about a periodic table to make my way through! One thing I do know for certain and that is that I will never be able to get through all the strains of dope that are out there, considering all the hard work that the breeders are doing to prevent me from doing so. What I am doing, though, is doing my best to start from scratch. To go back to the beginning and round up the usual suspects. In this case, all the old school strains that have been platforms for the great strain revolutions of the last thirty some odd years.

I am thankful for the sativas of my early years that give me a place to start. The strains from my youth…Colombian Gold, Panama Red, Thai Stick, Oaxacan Gold, Maui Wowie…are still out there, occasionally found but mostly caught up and enmeshed in some really righteous, solid, building blocks of powerhouse weed. I am always pleased to find old school strains such as Original Cali Orange, for Skunk #1, for Northern Lights, for Haze, for they are reminiscent of the highs of my youth. Yesterday I got it in my head that I wanted to partake in a little bit of that Thai sky high feeling from the 70's. I certainly didn't have any of that old school Thai stick on hand but I looked into other flower arrangements that might do, instead. I decided that I would trot through the lineage of Blue Dream to get to that taste of Highland Thai that I craved, so I dug through my trunk and fished out a nice nug of Blueberry to get the game started.

There is nothing better than a well tooled grinder. It makes busting up a flower an pleasurable thing to do. I ground up a nice bud that I picked up from Nature’s Herbs and Wellness from Garden City earlier this summer. The scent of fruit and sweetness, all tropical, all hothouse country, wafted out of the top of my Mendo Mulcher when I opened it up. I took a pinch (not too much!) and placed it in my Magic Flight Launch Box and fired it up. What was nice about that Blueberry aroma was replicated and more in the vapor and in the after taste of the puff. A moment or two later the lift began. I felt it first around my shoulders, then it creeped up into my scalp. Somehow that scalp thing pulled up my facial muscles and there I sat, all smiles, and even giggled a bit to myself.

I couldn’t let that nice hybrid moment go away without pressing into service the sativa side of the plant. I love how the Thai side of the strain came through at the outset, all endless ceiling, all get up and go. I went downstairs and knocked out some busy work, feeling the joy of doing stuff that was necessary and mindless. But once that got done I said to myself, no sitting around today! I grabbed my towel and sunglasses and headed for the complex pool. All summer long I kept to my duties, never took a dip with my people out of the house but yesterday I felt high and just a bit decadent. With my head in the clouds and the skies cloudless I entered the pool gate and was given my grand treat for the day: the pool was empty and all mine. The day was finally sunny after a cloud filled morning. The pool was filled with dappled radiance. I threw my towel down on one of the many empty and available chairs and hit the water. 

I felt like landed gentry, a pool of my own. Asking for that was never on any of my lists but I had to wonder why it wasn’t. Yep, quite a treat, if only for a while. Like all good dreams that one had to end, too.  Before too long other dwellers of the Summer Park drifted in and began to fill up the space, something that I never minded before in the least. I said my hellos to folks that I knew, grabbed my stuff and left with my buzz intact. After an hour of dedicated water aerobics I felt worn and slightly giddy, ready for a snack and a bit of computer time before I ran out to fetch the family. I started supper, snacked like a mad animal and began the grand come down that the Afghani side of the house promised.

I loved that Blueberry strain so much so that I will gladly take on some Super Silver Haze later on today to see what the other side of Blue Dream is all about. The completeist in me will tackle that combo dope tomorrow.  But for today, I think that Haze to come will have me out walking. Save the pool for later on today, take a dip with the family. That is what a completeist does. Rounds things up and enjoys the pastime of things gathered together.

Salud!

Horseshoes and hand grenades

Almost.

Close.

Whatever.

Torrington. Never heard of the place until this morning. I knew all about Highway 85. Took it to Cheyenne over a year ago on my way to the 25. Had a date with my kids in Salt Lake that weekend. Didn't matter that it was snowing, had to go, like it or not.

But today was something different. A grand celestial event was happening, possible a once in a life time deal and it was right up the road. I have no idea why I waffled so long, why I took so long to act. Well, maybe I do, actually. Up until last Friday I didn't really have a confirmation on my work scene. Couldn't make plans until I knew for certain what my future employer had in mind for me. Plus, up until Sunday night I had three trips in mind, all going in different directions. One by one they fell by the way side. The only one left standing this morning, apparently, was the Great American Eclipse of 2017.

Well, the Cannabist posted an article last week that proclaimed loud and clear that the Wyoming Smokies would be on the look out for cannabis. The state made it clear that they wanted us to come and see the show but they wanted us to leave our dope behind, too. Okay, no problem there, but I knew I might have had a bit of one if someone decided it was in their best interest to smell the inside of my trunk. Left some mota in there this past weekend and by the time I unloaded it this morning that sweet smell of skunk just wouldn't go away.

I decided to log onto the NY Times this morning and as luck would have it they had this cool graphic posted that displayed the path that the moon's shadow would take on it's hour and a half journey across America. Luckily for me the shadow crossed Torrington, which was right up the way in Wyoming, about two and  half hours from the casita. Once I saw that I knew that I had to take a chance, make that drive. Once in a lifetime, right?

So, snacks and water, a bit of fuel and on the road I went. After reading horror stories for days about the traffic I would hit I was stunned that I drove unimpeded through Weld County, all the way into Cheyenne. Only once did I hit any kind of traffic and that was when Yellowstone Road out of the capitol merged again with the 85. Clear sailing, I thought. Then, about 30 minutes away from my destination I hit what was to be the end of the road for me. A Wyoming Highway Department truck sat off to the side of the road, it's lights flashing. The traffic slowed to a crawl. The area around the jam up was an adhoc rest area, big asphalt meant for big trucks. Once I saw that there was a sizable crowd parked all around me, I decided to forego the stop and go traffic and watch the show from there.

A number of the articles I read suggested to watch the eclipse with folks, to get a feel for the larger impact of the event on humanity. I knew that if I had my druthers I would have rather been 30 miles further up the road in that mix of people instead but for all intents and purposes, for the sake of the story, those folks on either side of the highway were going to be my Peeps for the Eclipse. I looked around and nodded. It was just this side of tail gate party. I said hello to guy parked next to me, named Josh, who was from Fort Collins. Rode there on his Harley. He figured that the traffic had pretty much dictated his story as well. Yeah, we were from all over...Colorado, Texas, New Mexico, California, Wyoming. I guess some of those folks got late starts, too. No Torrington for us.

So, I had that extra half hour plus about an hour to kill. Knocked out the snacks, texted the mujuer and my foul friend back east. Grabbed my solar glasses and peeked at the sun. Very cool tool to have around, I imagine, even when the eclipse moved on. But before too long the moon began it's reconnaissance and began to encroach on the sun's territory. Bit by bit the shadow ate up the sun just like a boy eating up a moon pie. Slowly but surely the sky went weird and color of the light began to change. Crickets started their evening song. The horizon went into twilight mode. The wind picked up and it got mighty cool. The moon finished up gobbling up the sun, and for those of us stuck 30 miles out of town, right on the edge of totality, we saw a glorious smile on the side of the sun's face, all that remained of it's former glory..

Then, that was the end of the show. The shadow had other places to go, other folks to please and impress. Once that sweet slight smile on the sun shifted I knew it was time for me to go, too. One things for certain, no amount of mota would have improved that event today. Sometimes you just have to go "au natural". No enhancements needed. I was happy to have made the journey, even more happy to have missed the traffic that was soon to be heading down that same highway I was taking. I was mighty happy for the quick decision I made that morning. I thought the day would go completely different, that I would just smoke a doob, strap on my glasses and float around the sun dappled universe of that cool, cool pool I have down the street. But instead I hit the road, grabbed a spot off the highway and was part of a very sweet and important scene.

Maybe that eclipse thing does inspire big feelings. I heard that folks would laugh, cry, when they saw the sun go out. Me, when I was driving off I felt a bit flat. It kinda reminded me how I felt when the movie Jaws came out. For years I put off watching that flick. Was it because of the giant shark? Did I put it off thinking it might make me afraid to hit the surf? Nope, it was the endless hype that ruined the event, that made the movie seem so much larger than life than it was. I generally avoid things that have big hype attached to them.

Until today. Glad to have done it, big solar smile and all.

Hope you caught it, too.

Salud!

Signed up for the duration!

How cool, how wondrously cool it is! Week after next I will be a member of the cannabis industry!

Now, with that being said, I can't say that it was easy choice to make. Today broke orange, cool yet strangely ominous. I woke up feeling rested and determined to make a choice, to be firm on my decision, but before coffee that decision was not a forgone conclusion . The family split before 8 and headed off into their day, leaving me at home to mull over things. I hit the road at 11, drove through a moderately warm summers day, air a bit hazy but the cornfields blew by as the mountains reared up on my way down and over the highways and byways to Boulder.

My mission? To complete employment paperwork, plow through legalese, read through the employee handbook, cancel a check for direct deposit and, for all intents and purposes, give the ol' heave ho to the idea of taking that long drive to the Southland. In the end, was it a hard decision to make? Not at all. Not a bit. As a matter of fact it feels like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders. As of today I am an conditional employee of Skinny Pineapple, home of The Farm. My driving position is effective end of the month.

"What about Cali?", you might ask. Don't get me wrong. I went to sleep and woke up with that struggle at the forefront of my mind. I messed about with it this morning as I killed time around the pad, wondering what to do as I got myself ready for my appointment. I jumped in the car, took care of a couple of errands and then hit the road, still perplexed about the course of my future even though I was on my way to signing it over.

Well, I did it and I am very, very happy about the direction I am heading. My future is with cannabis and I hope to help make that future, a life of easy to access, regulated, organic, legalized marijuana, happen for those who want it.

I have to admit signing up today was nothing like signing up for the service. No, this time, if felt like a long overdue job opportunity to work at Disneyland. I even said so to the HR manager on my way out the door. Ever since I gave up a shot to work the park the summer before I shipped out I have always wondered what my life would have been like had I taken that path. I knew right away that I wouldn't have been doing the cool things I hoped to do...monitoring the line at the Haunted Mansion, wearing leider hosen on the Fantasyland side of the Skyway, or even steering a raft back and forth to Tom Sawyer's Island over the Rivers of America.

No, there would be no Mickey costume for me, either, no street sweeping, no burger flipping, no bathroom patrol. They thought highly enough of me to offer up an ice cream cart near the entrance of Tomorrowland. Somehow, man, I have no idea why, but my field supervisor job at the swap meet for the Harbor Blvd Drive In seemed to be more in line with what I wanted to do with my summer. The hours were better, there was more time for the beach, flicks were free, plus there would be plenty more time for the little blondie in my life. Heck, what does an 18 year old boy know?

What I do know now, and what has been drummed into my head and welded into my heart, is that you go with your passions. Mota, now, that's a burning passion if there ever was one. Library work, well, I worked through that one and yet I will always be a powerful advocate for reading, public service and having the door of my business open to all. Disneyland? What that hell was the matter with me back then? Before that job offer I was a tried and true Disney fanatic. I grooved on the Mouse forever, was the envy of all the kids in the family for all the times I hit the park. Heck, I even walked around the parameter of Disneyland once or twice just to pick up paper "souvenirs".What a kid. What a missed chance.

Until today. Today I decided, after a long bit of thought, that the bridge back to my past was effectively detoured. Not burned, just given over to that OTHER fork in the road. The one to my future. I have already done what I can do in the Southland with books, movies, swap meets and storytelling, now it's time to see what I can do to effect change in the marijuana industry here in Colorado. After that drive today I just have to say, I don't know ANYBODY who has given up a job in Boulder just to move to Fullerton.

Here's to going the other way down the highway.

Salud!