The Real Trip

What a whirlwind trip. On Saturday morning, after a disappointing phone consultation with Apple support, they were kind enough to tell me my exploded MacBook battery would not be covered. I would expect as much. The good part is that there is null effect to using it in its exploded fashion.

The City was bustling. It was clear, crisp and beautiful. I left the house at 11:30 and proceeded down my list. Number 1 - Sacred Herbs on Valencia Street. Wow! I have never seen more herbals packed into such a small space crowded with so many people. I found the two essences I wanted and picked up a stick of Palo Santo. Amazing store. I could browse all day in there.

Then off to Tap Plastics, Mr. S. (unfortunately there is no hope for my huge leather pants.) I was surprised to find the price for a new pair was $384.! Zowie! I won’t be buying any of them soon. I could probably make two pairs outs of my own.

South of Market seemed to be to my liking so off to 5th & Mission Garage where I found the 6t h floor to be empty. I walked over to Virgin…it was gone! I’d forgotten they went out of business. I took off to the Apple Store across Stockton Street. I must have spent over an hour in there, looking, learning and playing with new toys.

Back for one more stop, a bite to eat and the next thing I knew it was 3:30 pm and I was on the Bay Bridge going East.

The City was very different for me this time. It left me feeling quite lonely – out of touch and once again, as I was in 1991 – socially isolated. Don’t get me wrong, I loved every minute of it. The fog, the taste of the Hetch Hetchy water. All of it!

What was interesting was on Friday night I hooked up with an old friend and went over a little after midnight. It was great, I hadn’t seen his new house – which was minimalist to say the least but with the greatest views of the city, and a signed Peter Max hanging over the head as well as a really cool Lichtenstein. Needless to say, great house.

We talked for a while, had a drink, busy banter, busy banter. All of a sudden he said. “We should get in the hot tub” I said, “What?” He and his partner had put in a 6 seater in the back yard. How they got that in, I’ll never know.

The fog was still in the air, when we raced from the back door down all the way to the back fence with 30° wind gusts. The thought of taking off my little terry robe was not sitting well. Well, we stripped and jumped into the most wonderful envelope of warmth I had hardly seen. With the mist of the famous San Francisco fog overhead spraying on my face, it was, needless to say, ”Incredible”. As the house sat just under the fog-line. Almost the same elevation as where I first lived on West Parkside. The difference in water and air was the perfect medium.

As I looked up into the sky, I immediatly saw Plieides through the mist, then Orion, and what I think was Mars. Phenomenal! I don’t think he believed me.

Shpongle continued to play when we smoked a cigarette and went back into the house.

I practiced some of my newly learned massage tricks on his gastrocnemius muscles. It was really a special evening. I stumbled back to Mark’s around 4:30 because I really wanted to get some things done that day and I knew if I hung out any longer I wouldn’t.

I didn’t then, but now think of it as a wonderfully different experience from the times before. Never, in 15 years of living in the City had I even come near a hot tub.

Back in the ‘90s my friends were all poor – in their thirties and not yet privy to the Options from Google and the like that would be slopped upon them.

Sometimes I wonder why my timing has always been bad. Had I sold in LA maybe 9 months later, I would have ended up with about $350,000 rather than $171,000. With the house in Sonora, as well. And I never should have moved from 206 Diamond St.

Enough of bad luck though. I decide my destiny, not my luck.

Death 101

Sometimes it’s just too hard to face the reality of death. I think we instinctively, ultimately know, but just can’t bring ourselves to accept it. I think it’s our nature. It’s a very difficult thing, letting go. But it is something we must do to be at peace with ourselves. And each and every one of our processes is different.

For some of us, it’s easy. Others, it takes time. We must literally watch with our own eyes the physical deterioration in our loved ones. Sad as it may be, we can’t bring ourselves to give up hope. Hope there can be an answer from a doctor telling us just how much time we have. Hope that someone can tell us when our loved one will go and, of course, hope that it doesn’t happen.

While trying not to be pessimistic, I have always felt our loved ones won’t go until we are ready to let them go. For whatever reason, we must be mentally and emotionally ready. It’s almost like giving them permission to be at peace, which in turn comes from us being at peace with ourselves enough to give that permission.

People who are dying hold on for many different reasons. Maybe a daughter has some forgiving to do. Maybe a son needs to say thank you. Maybe a mother needs to tell her children, no matter what, she’ll always be with them. A variety of different reasons as is a variety of different circumstances.

In my world, I do know, well at least hope that in the next life we’ll see and feel their love again. I know I continue to feel the love of my loved ones who have passed in many different ways at least once a day.