June 19th, 2008

Ghosts catching up
Okay, it's been pretty much a blur for the last week or so...
Remember "Casper the Friendly Ghost?" Hated that cartoon, it had just one repeating plotline. It was all about Casper being humiliated because everyone was too afraid of his face value. Then some naive child would come along, too young to be judgemental, and Casper would have a friend for awhile, but in the end he had to go back to ghostland. Frankenstein Syndrome. (Especially like the Mary Shelley book, the Modern Prometheus, nothing like the crappy interpretations that came later) Woops, off on a tangential ricochet there, sorry. Anyway, I hated Casper TFG but it had one shtick that really stuck with me... when the person got so afraid of Casper that their "selves" jumped out of their body, then they would run, and when they stopped, all of them would pile back together into a person again. Sometimes I find myself visualizing this after hard travelling, especially after long, long trips, it's like your ghosts are catching up when you finally stop. Everything slams back together. Memories from the things you've done over the trip start seeping back into your view, as your mind digests.
Let's see... last Wednesday took the LRT (train) to the airport in a haze with an enormous pack on my back and most of my camera equipment in my newly modified shoulder bag (put plastic panels in it to armor plate the thing and added fastloks to buckle backpack straps on (didn't finish that part yet)), missed the Lindbergh Terminal stop for some unknown reason, got off the train, got back on in the other direction, got off at the right stop this time, trundled my crap to the baggage check, took off for Phoenix, was delayed, busted ass down the moving walkways to the other end of the terminal (isn't it ALWAYS on the "other end of the terminal", how do they manage to do that???), flew to Sacramento, got car, sat in huge traffic jam, drove to my sister's family's place in Sonora, said hey, hugged, got set up, took photos, hiked the rocks, drove back to Sac on Friday to pickup my spouse, drove back to Son, helped with nephew Nick and bride Brittney's wedding setup, messed around, tweaked my sis's computer, played guitar for the first time in ages, fried in the heat, rested in the shade, walked the rocks at night, shot 401 pictures at the wedding, talked to people I didn't know, talked to people I did know, got rained on in California, ate a lot of wedding cake, drank really good juice from their Jack La Lane juicer, swilled too much really good coffee, packed up my camera and stinky clothes and drove back to Sac with my honey on Sunday, on the way almost hit a frenzied, foaming at the mouth, sunburned lady running down Highway 4 in blistering heat in sandals and a gown screaming, "I need WATER!!!", turned around but saw her climbing into some family's pickup with a boat on a trailer, couldn't navigate for crap when we got to Sac and ended up missing multiple turns and not getting to talk with our friend Betsy who picked up Shar, got a migraine waiting for the flight to Phoenix, took a bunch of head meds, had a nice conversation with a lady that just moved to Phoenix from LA but was in Amador City for wine-tasting with her relatives, busted ass down the moving walkways to the other end of the terminal because we were delayed, jumped into the boarding line without taking a piss first, (mistake) sat with my legs crossed in a sweatlodge called an airplane on the runway in Phoenix' 115 degree heat, "um, we request you NOT put your windowshades up until the plane is at a cruising altitude to minimize heat buildup..." (didn't work), took off after a short, token delay, sprinted to the bathroom at the back of the plane at the first available opportunity and took a 3 1/2 minute pee, sighed with relief the entire length of the plane back to my seat, climbed over and thru my seatmates that didn't feel it was necessary to get out of their seats to let me get to the window, drank about a gallon of water while listening to punk rock music on the way back, landed at MSP, strapped on my enormous pack after waiting for the other 198 passengers baggage to come down the chute, stepped off the escalator into the blissful 76 degree Minnesota sunset, got on the LRT, trundled home behind some hoodlum teens begging cigarettes from each other, said hey to the guy with the prosthetic leg that always tells me about his dogs but this time said, "sure is quiet" after the gang of noisy, swearing teen hoodlums had just clambered by, got back to the house, fed the turtle, scrubbed her rocks, changed her water, fed the cat, packed a bag for the canoe trip yesterday, collapsed in my own bed, woke up before the alarm, drove to Taylor's Falls, interpreted nature for middle school teachers via canoe on the St. Croix River, paddled to Osceola, WI, saw a great waterfall, took pictures of it, stuck my head under it, got the tops of my legs so sunburned they swelled up, drove back to the city, loaded several hundred images into my computer, collapsed in bed, woke up, cursed myself for getting sunburned, drove thru massive construction to Maple Plain to pick up Happy the Dog, got licked, got scowled at by Mary for taking him away again, said hey to Sporty and Josie, got grunted at and had a heavily salivated tennis ball thrust in my hand in return, said hey to Nancy, drove to the library to pickup Snow Crash on cassette, stopped at the hardware store to get some Scott's Liquid Gold for my old guitar, got Happy, Happy's stuff and my stuff put away, and here we are, ghosts catching up...

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