Joy

by TomiJoy

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Crazy Charlie

I’m lying on the roof, looking up at the stars ..when I get a get a call from Charlie who's underneath a bridge .. in a tent community by the L.A. River. It’s a place he knows well, which concerns me because it’s probably the first place they’ll look for him. “Nah” he says “..it’s terra incognita.” I try Googling it with no luck. It’s like wild kingdom down there. He spends his time sitting in squalor behind a wall of cattails .. reading and repairing his bicycle ..while freeway traffic rushes by overhead. His new lady friend ‘Musgrove’ prepares coffee while he plans his next destination. I tell him he sounds awfully comfortable for a man on the run. He says it’s OK, people down there come and go ..no one really knows who you are ..but everyone takes care of each other. He tells me there’s a string of communities like this running up and down the river. Some really reek ..but others are almost picturesque. He says he wants to go to one where, he hears ..elderberry and willow trees grow wild ..and you can watch the egrets nest. I tell him he ought to write a travel guide to the swamps and waterways that run below the city of L.A. They’re sort of a blank spot that most people either miss ..or glimpse from an overpass ..then instantly forget.

Letter to the editor

Written in response to an article about ~~>marijuana dispensaries

It sounds like District Attorney Steve Cooley has either an outdated, or conveniently narrow interpretation of the English language. It’s no wonder he has chosen to go to war with the City Council, its constituents, the Attorney General’s Office and the voters of the State of California. Although State laws governing marijuana dispensaries do not explicitly say that it’s OK to ‘sell’ marijuana ..they do allow for ‘cost-reimbursements’ by its members. Now, in business terms, when cost-reimbursements are received they are generally considered a ‘sale’. Sort of a modern-day convenience since we live in a mostly cash-based economy. If District Attorney Cooley has problems with money changing hands, perhaps we should revert back to earlier times and reimburse dispensaries with topsoil, seeds and fertilizer.

In a heartbeat

Many children with dyslexia cannot keep up with the flow of text fluently enough to translate symbols into sounds ..then sounds into meaning. To read OK, the brain has about 40 milliseconds to do this. For children with reading difficulties, this may take as many as 500 milliseconds. According to Usha Goswami (Cognitive Neurosciences Institute at University College in London), part of the problem may be caused by difficulty in perceiving the rhythm of speech. Goswami and her colleagues discovered that dyslexic children could not track the beat in speech. The ability to detect a beat matters when the brain is trying to process syllables and phonemes. Like a metronome, it helps children pick-up the properties of speech in time. The ability to keep the beat is so fundamental, they say, that the first language a child learns is it’s own mother’s heartbeat while still in the womb.

Another country

President Obama has decided on a settlement between the Navajo and Hopi Indians during his first year in office. Imagine that. I wonder when the last time a sitting president could make that claim. Marijuana production is definitely on the rise around here. The Mexican Cartels are moving their operations to the US. It’s especially apparent in California. This doesn’t surprise me much. It’s common practice for US businesses to set-up shop closer to their market. The border community between the U.S and Mexico is becoming another country. They even have a name for it: El Tercer Pais. Literally ‘the third country’. It’s a place where people go about their business without much regard for what legislatures decide on either side. Meanwhile, smugglers are using cranes to lift cars, filled with marijuana, over that scary fence we built ..reinforcing the notion of how adaptable humans can be. If you build it, they will climb it. I wonder when we’re going to end this crazy charade that has transferred so much wealth to the drug cartels that, pretty soon ..they’re going to declare sovereignty over El Tercer Pais ..and defend its borders with more than just a wall.

Crazy Charlie

Charlie taught himself how to fly an airplane by playing video games on the computer. So, when the time came, he got food and supplies from other people’s houses ..boots and camping gear from an army surplus store ..night vision goggles out of a nearby fire station ..and a Cessna from a hanger outside of Renton, Washington. He landed hard on a forest road near Bonners Ferry, Idaho ..actually cracked the fuselage. Then he called me on a stolen cell phone to ask where I thought he should go next. I’m like: WTF Charlie ..are you joy riding or something ..? Are you trying to get away from somebody ..? (I’m thinking it could be anything from pissing off a neighbor to causing a riot). He says they picked him up in Seattle on a ‘malicious mischief’ charge (which could mean anything) ..then told him he was a suspect in an armed robbery case. Suspect ..? He doesn’t carry a gun ..nor does he remember threatening anyone. But it was enough to flip a paranoia switch that told him he better get out of town ..and just keep on going.

To be continued ..

Free falling

Late afternoon, Don calls and says the swells are getting bigger. I blow-off my plans, throw my Churchills in the alfa and zip down to the shore. I do some quick deep-breathing exercises and take a running leap into oncoming waves. The first ride nearly yanks my shorts off ..I pull the waistband as tight as it’ll go. The next ride throws me over the falls ..I go limp and bounce twice off the sandy bottom. After some more pounding, I head for the shore to get a birds-eye view. The swells are definitely getting bigger. I’m about to go back out when I see someone coming in. At first, I thought it was a guy I was watching out there. Instead, it was a girl I was watching out there. I meet Sara from Westmont College. I’m surprised ..she’s small, almost waif-like ..and carries a wicked pair of Vipers. She’s no Val .. and from what I saw ..knows no fear. We chat briefly ..and head back in the water. I zip down the face a wave and decide to ride it without bailing ..and get trashed in the collapse. I emerge in churning white water ..look around and see her pop-up ..breathless but exhilarated. We swim back as fast as we can to catch the next one ..too late. She ducks under while I go up and over the top ..feeling the vacuum of the curl almost suck me backwards by my feet. Dumb thing to do because the next wave is right on it’s heels. I know I’m going over the falls but I catch it anyway .. getting a fast-pitched ride into white-water oblivion. I lose my orientation ..scrap my shoulder against a vertical wall of sand ..go wtf ..and figure it’ll be just a few seconds before my sonar detects true bottom. Back on shore, Sara says she’s gotta’ go ..I stay, repeating her email address over-and-over, and ride until sunset .. wondering if this is the beginning of a cycle or the last amp of the day.

The crapshoot

The headline says: “The pace of foreclosures is slowing down in California” ..and it makes me feel good to think that more people are able to afford homes and, by extension ..the economy is getting better. Reading on, however, it turns out I’m wrong. Just as many people are in default as ever .. but fewer of them are going the distance to foreclosure. That’s good news. I tell myself it’s because banks are learning that it’s better to let people stay in their homes ..they lose money auctioning off foreclosed property. I used to tell people, facing foreclosure, always go to the bargaining table ..bankers are reasonable people ..right ? Well, it didn’t always work out that way and now I’m finding out I was seriously mistaken. Banks don’t act reasonably ..they are not good business people ..they’re order takers. And they are not learning anything new (as I had hoped). It says here that the only reason they’re showing leniency now is because they’re afraid if they don’t ..the government will change the rules and allow homeowners to protect their property in bankruptcy court. Now I’m reading where Bank of America insists they can sell foreclosed properties profitably. Since this runs counter to my beliefs, I look back at the article ..and shake my head. My mistake .. Bank of America didn’t say they could sell foreclosed properties profitably .. they said they could sell them more efficiently. Now, I feel a sliding sensation I sometimes get while reading about the economy ..like the wheels of my car aren’t firmly on the road. I’m sitting at my computer but I have this feeling I’m in a sideways drift. Like everything I know is wrong ..or at least suspect. Now I’m wondering how often I misinterpret what I read. Now I’m wondering how often I misread what other people are telling me. Now I’m wondering how often other people misread what I say ..and think I’m deranged. I remember somebody once told me that communication is a probabilistic event. Like a crapshoot. Now I’m wondering whether or not I should read ‘The Glass Bead Game’ by Hesse. Now I’m asking myself what the hell that has got to do with anything.

Esalen journal

Workshop, Oct 10: I’m looking at the fleshy, pale-green leaf of an agave plant ..with the aid of a jeweler’s glass. The idea is to get a different perspective of everyday things then write about them. Agave grows in the canyon where I live. ..but I usually don’t look at them this closely. The leaves have sharp purple edges ..with glassy little diamond-like fangs ..kind of reminds me of sharks teeth. Makes me quiver. When I run my finger over them; they bend like plastic. I say to myself “they may look fierce, but they don’t bite.” I wonder who, or what, they’re trying to scare. I notice dew drops clinging to the sides ..and watch them slide down the leaf and into pools of water at the plants interior. I see fairy-nymphs kneeling down by the pools to gather the water, then ..standing on tip-toes ..they pour it into the plant’s thirsty mouth. I look up and shake my head. I didn’t really see that .. but I thought it. Suddenly more images flash by ..I see a lotus growing out of the mud .. becoming the top of a Hindu temple ..then becoming the artichoke-like statue at the self-realization fellowship (in Encinitas). I tell the images to stop. My eyes enhance the edges of things then my mind takes me for a ride. I look out on the horizon where there’s a hazy line separating the sky and the sea. I notice my eyes starting to enhance the edges again, making the line look sharper and more distinct. I shout “stop” before my mind has a chance to take me for another excursion. I return to the plant and think ..they always look so full and happy ..like the ones in the canyon ..always satisfied ..never demanding.

A bell sounds and everyone starts writing. I decide to write a verse:

On a grassy bluff overlooking the sea
a flower is drinking dew-drop-nectar tea.
“Watch out for the giant agave” I yell,
with it’s razor-sharp teeth
blood-soaked lips
hiding over here ..licking its fingertips.

The instructor says “short but sweet” ..and I'm left wondering if I should have mentioned the part about the fairy-nymphs and all that stuff.

Esalen journal

I’m having breakfast while listening to Tania, a work-scholar from Russia, tell me about her mediation practice. She is drop-dead gorgeous ..with a beautiful accent. I don’t remember a thing she said ..but I do remember the way she repeatedly waved her hand, in kind of a circular motion, to describe how her thoughts go ‘off-track’ while she’s meditating. I believe I told her that mine do too ..but I can’t be sure. Now I' m laughing at something another work-scholar just said. Referring to ‘seminarians’ (like me), he goes: “ ..slap your money down ..turn your life around?” Work-study people live and work here for part of the year, while we (the seminarians) drop by occasionally for therapeutic retreats. I mingle with the work-study people ..even get stoned with them ..and because of my hair and overall appearance, I sometimes get mistaken for one ..so I hear where they’re coming from. Gail, an attractive seminarian from Benedict canyon, took it as an insult ..as if he were saying that we’re stupid enough to believe a trip to Esalen is a life-changing event. I can tell she’s hurt and I try to explain how the work-scholar people often feel like second-class citizens ..cleaning rooms, gardening, that sort of thing. I mean, when you really look at it, we seminarians do tend to socialize primarily amongst ourselves. I’m saying all this stuff until I find out what’s really bothering her ..she came up here looking for a date ..and she thought she was actually having one ..a really good one .. with an attorney from LA (and conveniently close to Benedict canyon no less). But he left last night with a much younger girl he met at the baths. She’s been sitting here chain-smoking for almost two hours.

I take this as a sign that it’s time for me to head to the mediation hall and just sit and breathe until it’s time to leave this afternoon.

Workshop

Soo is from Singapore. She tells us that it is not part of her culture to express feelings and opinions so open and freely. Since they’re ‘insubstantial’ and not ‘factual’ ..they’re easy to contradict ..and that makes her feel afraid of looking foolish all the time. She says this workshop was good for her .. hard, but good. Helped her feel that it’s OK to open up. The instructor says that feeling unhurried to speak makes you more receptive to what other people are saying. Artful response I’m thinking. After workshop, Kitty tells me that the instructor feels like the workshop was a failure. I go “..really, she told you that ?” (I certainly didn’t feel like it was a failure) “No” she says “.. but you heard her .. she said she may not give this workshop again.” Yeah, I heard her say that ..but I took it to mean that she was moving on ..and letting us know she’ll be doing something different in the future. I’m suddenly reminded of what Soo said ..opinions are easy to contradict. However, I don’t think that contradictions are so bad ..we often express opinions to solicit other people’s point of view and see if what we think has any validity ..I guess that way we don’t have to wait around until all the ‘facts’ are in. But, hey .. that’s just my opinion.

It’s a friggin’ cold and foggy day! I’m heading directly to the hot springs after lunch.