Don't Talk To Strangers

location: San Simeon State Park, CA
time: jan 24, 2007 5:17pm
~~ lba ~~ -prev

This one is for you Simmer
it was a pretty quick hack

I am currently in a state park. Once again. Utilizing some free juice. I am sitting in the ampitheater. Normally people sit in this spot to give those informative talks of local plant species, and the various wildlife. I am not on stage, yet. Just sitting in the control booth. well its not really the control booth. It is more like the area where they put the projector. I just watched as the park custodian walked home. He disappeared into the bushes. Not ten minutes ago he was parking the ranger truck. I am not alone. Another walker.

Various cars and RV's are coming and going. For the most part the campground is dead. Not much going on. The highway has seemed to die off as well. The noise of pearl jam issues from my speakers. The temperature is dropping. I think it will be another cold one. birds are chirping behind me, and a morning dove is cooing at the falling sun. A lady walks past with her black and white dog. serenity now. fall in love with the calm.

I had another vivid dream last night. It is what woke me up early this morning. I dreamed i was back home. Not that I have a particular home persay. I was back in Canada. I was with some friends of mine. They were happy to see me, but grilling me on why I had given up. I was trying to explain. I couldn't do it. There were no answers available. all I could say was "I gave up." Naturally it did nothing to satisfy them. It was a horrible dream. A nightmare. It scared me awake.

I had an awesome early morning. When the sun hit the sea, all the birds started crying. Making a rukus. The gulls were insane with laughter. It made me smile. As I walked out of Morro Bay Campground a formation of vultures flew over head. I have never seen so many at once. Usually its but one or two. This time there were a dozen at least. even a few young ones. I thought they were gulls at first. But the all were headless and had fingers at the tips of their wings. Not literally of course, that is just how I can tell that they were Vultures.

I stopped at Kitty's Kitchen for breakfast. I ordered bacon and eggs with a side of hotcakes and a glass of OJ. The waitress gave me a sideways glance. As if to say "are you gonna eat all that." I cleaned the plate, and packed a slice of toast into napkin for later. She saw this and gave me a biscuit and a bag for the toast. I thanked her and tipped her a buck. She was very nice.

My next stop was to the coffee shop next door. The one that three seperate people have told me about. My friend from grade school Ryan, and Neil and Tom from the day before. Sure enough they had free internet. There were a couple of surfer dudes outside. I talked with them over a cig and coffee. Then down to business. I had already gotten a reply from Thomas, the wonderful character I shared the twilight with the night before. A very simple pleasure in life. Thanks Thomas for your loud words. Sorry I haven't replied yet I will soon. I also got an offer for some editing work if ever I was to write a book. I am thinking that it might be a future endeavour. When I have more time. perhaps when I have more time. Perhaps when i know what i want to write about.

My friend Jackie called me around 10:00 am PST. Just as i was preparing to pack up my stuff. I took the call out on the street. She is studying journalism in PEI. She wanted to write an article about "The Cure From Cars." I am flattered really. Hopefully she will send a copy this way. I will post it in feed backer section. I am going to ask once again here. Should you have anything that you would like to say anything about anything send it in. I am editing on whims. I am try to keep out things that are to confined to personal business. For instance things about the up and coming planting year and verbose ramblings about things that people wouldn't understand. I write about daamn near everything so the gap is wide. I am currently sitting at 24 emails in the feedback. Which is beating my record or 21 pages, I would like to see this section grow more than my writings. I still haven't gotten any hate mail. I am trying to get at least one. perhaps what I have to say doesn't recieve hate. That would be pretty cool. However people seem to think that there are evils in the world, I am trying to see if that is true. I knock on wood that nothing severely bad happens to me personaly.

It might be self-righteous of me to say. I may be digging my own grave. But I think the rule "don't talk to strangers," is bunk. It is foolish to think that one is invicible from the evils of the world. I feel that the evilness can be avoided. This thought that we tell our children "don't talk to strangers." Instills fear. Fear breeds hate. and well we all know what hate causes. Racism, Exclusionism, Anger, and a list of other nasty things. True one must be careful in all that they do. But security is easy to come by. It doesn't come from cameras, and locking people in jails. Security is in the mind. Knowing and trusting, not the brain, but that string of nerve cells that resides behing the stomach. Whenever someone gives me a lift it is not because they pity me. It is because they either have "been there" or trust that inner feeling.

I got another ride today. I tried my best to avoid it. I did everything possible. I stayed off roads when I could. I walked bike paths, the beach, side roads, and everything but the highway. I was picked up by Matt. I had met him back in Pismo Beach. Two days ago. I asked him for direction to a breakfast place. He was all to happy to oblige the information. I ran into him again today at a gas station. He recognized me of course. I said hello, bought my Doctor Pepper, and left the gas station. On I walked. To the next town. I had a burger and some fries at this great little shop. I wasn't far out of town when that white Aerostar with the broken hatch stopped. It was Matt again. He had come looking for me. He found me not on the highway, but on a side street. He would have driven me as far as i wished. Truely a good soul. I asked him to drop me off in the town before San Simeon. He obliged. I gave him the deets of the site. If you are reading this Matt please send in an email to verify the story. Honesty is my policy, but sometimes people need proof. I know I need this.

When talking to stranger one must always use caution. But fear is what stops us from meeting our neighbours and communing. "The Cure From Cars" is within us all if we can but face fear in the face and understand the concepts which stop us from truely knowing each other. Crime and evil are a result of fear they are not caused by malice the inner core of humanity is fairly pure. At least from my point of view. Perhaps I have been lucky in not meeting any evil in my travels

That last statement was a bit of a stretch. I have met evil before. I will extrapolate. 2 years ago. When I was still using my thumb to get a lift. I got a ride that scared the bejesus out of me. I was but a few k out of Thunderbay, ON. I was on my way to Folk fest in Winnipeg Manitoba. I sat thumbing next to a sign near a golf course on Highway 1. I got picked up by a man whose name I won't mention to protect his identity, i will remember his name for the rest of my life because of the experience. I am leaving his name out to protect the innocent. He was headed to Dryden some 3-4 hours down the road.

I got in the beaten up truck. I had barely gotten past introducing myself. I was half-way through the second sylable in fact. When he asked me "So, Do you party?" This is dangerous question. I hadn't actually been asked it before. But I knew what it meant. Do I do Drugs. I replied, "I smoke the chronic?" he asked "Cocaine?" I knew this was a dangerous position. It was a question that mothers fear. It was the point where i could decide for myself if i wanted to do a drug or not. I have seen movies. I know what the stuff can be cut with. I chose at that point to not do the drug, even though it was free which is the price i like. He then asked me if i could cut a line. I replied "I've seen it in the movies." I thank God for hollywood. He handed me a bag. It had about an ounce in it. it was a shit tonne really.

He watched me cut it up. gave me all the tools. including a $5 dollar bill. Thats how i knew he wasn't a high roller. All the while the truck was cruising at 100 kmph. I cut him two fat lines. Just like in the movies. On my sketchbook, incidentially. I took the wheel as he snorted. 20 minutes later he asked me to do it again. I cut him another two. I got a little worried about his ability to drive. Cocaine is an upper so i felt somewhat safe. It heightens the awareness like speed. Truck drivers are notorious for doing speed. I watched the road. He kept telling me that i could do a rail or two. I kept saying no.

He asked me to hook him up for a fourth time. I declined. He saw my hesitation and went with it. 10 minutes out of the city limits, he asked for one more refill. I obliged. He said he was just about to face his family and needed it. He brought me to his home. Right next to the Wyerhouser mill. It stank like sulphur. I met his girlfriend. She was watching a big screen television. I watched through the window as he took a garbage bag out of the truck and threw it in his shed.

I left my backpack at his house as we went down the street. He left me at a corner, while he went and got me a 1/2 ounce of pot. I was sitting there with nothing. Just my wallet. Naked. My backpack and home at some stranger/drug-dealers house. I had given him $160 for the purposes of purchasing said weed. He came back and picked me up. complete with weed.

A completely nerve wracking experience. It scared the shit out of me. I thought I was lucky to have survived it. A story which i do not wish to live again. A story of the road. Another reason to walk. Another reason to find a cure. Vice. Crushing spirit. I wish I ws strong enough to know all along that it was a story. Perhaps I should not have taken the ride... I think not!

I am in danger of instilling fear here. This is contrary to the cause. What I would like to point out is that though i was in fear most of the time. The outcome was not what was expected. It is easy to say that this example is a prime one for not "talking to strangers." However, the more you examine it the more you see that there was fear on both ends. Put yourself in his shoes for a second. He needed someone to cut him some lines. Cocaine users are like that always looking for the quick fix. Looking for an easy solution. I can't imagine the paranoia that he faced picking me up. Had I been a hater or a drug user i could have jacked him. My back pack was on my lap. I could've slit his throat with my pocket knife. run off into the hills and made off with countless dollars of cocaine. He was lucky. Not that i believe in luck. I might have been lucky. I doubt it. He trusted me. And I him.

Maybe I will die on the road. I hope not as it would further this spiral of fear. Which would result in endless war. I feel that the world is nearing a point, where people must decide. Not just what they want to do with their lives, but what is the good of Humanity. I seriously doubt that i will die on the road. I have seen more to my life in my dreams. This is an awakening period. As the Mayans view it, soon will come a time when the world will come into awakening period. I am in danger of sounding like a new age nut here. But there is an ounce of truth in every pound of literature, even if it is hieroglyphics.

Every end is a new beginning. Every beginning is an end.

It is dark now. The sun is gone. There are voices here and there. I am shivering. The light of the stars shine. They are obscured by the glow of this computer. I know they are there because they are always there. Orion's belt shines as it does. I can almost see the Hunter. The bull is somewhere up there as well. A change is a foot.

Tomorrow the sun will shine. The cars sound like the ocean. Wait it is just the ocean.

With any luck the pain in my leg will not turn into a Terry Fox hop. With any luck there is no such thing as luck. Just experience. And experience builds character. As pain and suffering bring Art. And I hope I haven't set the bar to high. Editing for content has never been my forte.

It is now tomorrow and the sun is indeed shining

My brother Simeon sent me this link this morning. It is most excellent. I strongly suggest that you read the words of this man: U. G. Kirshnamurti. From reading the opening page, I can see that this man has something to say without saying anything. This is something that I can agree with. I don't feel that i have any answer to any question. I do feel that this is strong point rather than a weakness. What i am trying to do here, is something of a difference to his practice of refusing audience. I lover of conversation. It doesn't have to be deep. Just a few words exchanged. And I will be on my way. I am looking for the "Cure From Cars" This may be an excuse to devel into escoteric realms. I feel it is working though. Just as the sandwit plunges its beak in the sand and finds a morsel of food. I am poking my nose in the sand of humanity to find that morsel and consume it.

I will finish this post off with a picture. I feel that it is rather humorous. I took it yesterday when i was sitting on the beach, drinking a beer. A flock of gulls flew in to see if i would give them something. The look in the face of the gull is priceless

Do you have something for me?
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