Category: reminisce

Thoughts about the good old days… memories.

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gold bars fell on my head

So OK I stumbled, but I swear I only tripped over one...
Listening to the new Blonde Redhead, and it’s got a “nostalgic” air about it for some reason. The songs kind of hang out in my ears and make me feel far away from something, or? maybe it’s not the songs at all. Anyway, it’s a good album and you should check it out because I said so. What you need to wait until you hear it on the OC or see it in Best Buy on the “With a Bullet” rack? Stupid collective musical consciousness finally starting to recognize talent? you’re taking away my elitism. Bah.

While I was looking through my old junk trying to find the Satanic Flier from the other day, I found all the notes I’d saved from my courting years with Sharaun in high school. Holy crap, I have reams of paper filled with what must be seas of ink – and none of it says a damn thing more than “I love you I love you I love you.” Oh sure, there’s other words in there – but there’s absolutely no substance. We used to exchange notes after every period in high school, and it was always a contest to see who could write the longer of the two. I mostly won, because I can write about nothing with the best of ’em (I’m even doing it right now). But man those notes meant something then. Why am I talking about this again?

Gold bars fell on my head and I didn’t even stoop down to pick them up. Dave out.

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you did it

Where my droogs at?
Sitting here ripping my CD collection, listening to some great stuff that I haven’t heard in years. Tonight we’re on the Bs. We listened to everything from Ben Folds Five to Black Sabbath to Badfinger. Sometimes I’m torn between wanting to write every detail of my daily stuff and wanting to write down stuff from the olden days. Sometimes olden days are more fun.

One day I was playing “doctor” with the girl from next door. I must have been in the 5th grade. It was her, my brother, and me – and we were hiding out between our two houses. My mom was out and about somewhere, and my dad was home. Since we were so young, I really had no idea how to play doctor – I just think I wanted to see something I’d never seen before. We were in the middle of the proceedings, and the little neighbor girl was in a compromising position – when my mom drove down the street on her way home. The picture looking out the car window must’ve been pretty telling. Two boys and the neighbor huddled in the corner between the houses, she’s striking some unnatural pose or lifting something that shouldn’t be lifted? while the two boys look on intently.

We saw mom drive by, and immediately canceled the game of doctor. I think my brother and I headed home, hoping that mom wouldn’t suspect us. Bad news for us, the neighbor told her mom about the new game she played with the brothers from next door. Bummer. While my mom was in the living room talking to the neighbor’s mom, I put my plan into action.

I went into my brother’s room, and told him “you were playing doctor with that girl.” “No I wasn’t, you were,” he replied. “No, you did it,” I answered. Then, without giving him enough time to answer – I kept drilling it into him. “You did it!” “You did it!” “You did it!” “You did it!” Over and over and over and over again. Finally he stopped protesting and started crying. “I did it,” he whimpered through tears. “That’s right, now go tell mom.” And, he did. He went out and told mom that he was the one who was playing doctor with the girl.

Never have I been more ashamed of my treatment towards my brother. I’m sorry Frank. I know you didn’t play doctor with that girl. Oh, and I’m also sorry I brainwashed you into “admitting” you were the one who scribbled all over the toilet seat with mom’s mascara – I know it was me. I’m also sorry I threw the cat on you while you were taking a bath, and that I shot model rocket engines at you out of a homemade PVC pipe “bazooka.” Oh man, no wonder?

OK, so I posted Thursday’s and Friday’s at the same time. Sue me, Dave out.

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old navy and ross every day

The printing press why? I think because of the whole flier thing.
Whoa, sorry guys. Things have been hectic both at and away from work this week, and the blog has suffered as a result. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let the blog fall like I did my journal when things got busy in college. So I gotsta write.

I guess halfway through Tuesday’s article I decided to start spelling “flyer” as “flier.” It’s cool though, because apparently English is stupid enough that both spellings are accepted. Still strange how my brain decided to start spelling it differently somewhere in mid-writing.

Sharaun got selected for jury duty this week, seems like it could be a lengthy trail too? bummer for her since it’s her off-track time and she wants nothing more than to do nothing. Maybe good for me since it will keep her out of Old Navy and Ross every day. Now I’m gonna get beat up for saying that. I think the trial doesn’t start until sometime later this month, but she has to be there next week for something or other – which means she’ll miss the boat trip on Monday. She was pretty bummed.

So, apparently the wording from that book that I read in high school (and used to create the satanic flier prank) is an “actual” satanic ritual from La Vey’s “Satanic Bible.” It’s the “Satanic Baptism,” the Children’s Ceremony no less. Guess that book I read plagiarized La Vey’s stuff or something. Maybe those youth group leaders were familiar with the actual stuff and it lent credence to my prank. Awesome.

Sorry. Dave out.

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the satanic flier


I wonder if there’s anyone who reads this that I don’t know about? I know of a handful who still read it every so often, but I wonder if there are any random people who read it – kinda like me reading the other online journal I frequent. Just a random person reading all about another random person’s daily events and stuff. I guess there’d really be no reason for someone to just “happen” upon the site – so perhaps not. This will be my 168th entry in about 8mos of writing, not bad. (I know that because there are little “hidden” direct-links to each entry next to the date up there, and they have the post number in ’em). It’s a habit now, so I keep going.

The SMUD people came out and did a tree-survey of my backyard. They give free trees in an effort to conserve energy through shade they make. It’s a cool program if you want some free trees, and they have a lot to choose from. The lady mapped out my backyard and then suggested some tree varieties and placements. In all she recommended seven trees, four of them medium-sized flowering pears and three different kinds of larger maples. I don’t agree with her planned placement 100%, but I’ll stick to it for the most part. I just don’t want to eat up all the grassy space with trees. Would be nice to have some shade on that back part of the house though. They deliver the trees sometime next week. Pretty soon my backyard may look somewhat backyardy… with sprinklers sticking up from the dirt and baby trees growing among the rocks. Awesome.

This weekend is our first Yosemite trip of the season. We’ll probably do a couple short hikes on Saturday and Sunday, and just the one night of camping Saturday. Well, provided we’re able to get one of the 1st-come, 1st-served sites in the valley. Should be fun as we’ll rendezvous with my folks Saturday night, who’ll be there celebrating their anniversary. But the weekend won’t end there this time, not for me. I’m taking Monday off and taking a 40ft boat from Sacramento to San Francisco. One of our buddies works at a boat shop and they take their big ones to the boat show in SF each year, they put in on the Sacramento River and take a nice slow trip all the way over. The weather should be great, so I’m really looking forward to a nice relaxing day on the river – and more importantly, not at work.

When we were freshmen in high school I was reading a ridiculous book which I’d borrowed the book from a girl I was dating. It was a fictional account of a woman who was involved in some manner with satanic ritual abuse. It was an awful book, but I was into that whole occult thing. Being a more exploitive rip-off of the Rosemary’s Baby theme, the book delved into rituals and even contained some mock satanic-speak from the supposed events.

As I said, at the time I was big into the whole occult thing – and I had also been reading these reference books at the library which were like “encyclopedias of the occult.” Each volume of these encyclopedias had a huge Baphomet on the outer jacket. For some reason, I got the idea to make up a fake event flyer for a make-believe satanic gathering. Using a photocopy of the very authentic-looking Baphomet from the encyclopedias and a mixture my own words and the satanic-speak from the book, I created a mock “promotional flyer” for a supposed satanic gathering in my town.

My plan was to pull a prank with the fake flier. I gathered my usual crew of trusted friends and let them in on the idea. An ambitious plot for four freshman, we were going to sneak onto school grounds late one Sunday evening and stuff the folded fliers into as many lockers as possible – concentrating on the “senior” lockers. We ran off 100 copies of the flier and somehow got up to the school around midnight one Sunday evening. After scaling the gates to get inside, we split up and ran down the halls stuffing pre-folded satanic ritual invites into as many lockers as possible. We must’ve made too much noise, because the groundskeeper/security-guard ended up rolling around the grounds in a golf cart. Luckily we all scattered and managed to escape before being caught, and we planted most of the fliers.

Monday morning the suspense was almost too much to bear. By third period the fliers were the talk of the school. Being relatively unknown as just simple freshmen, we managed to stay under the suspicion radar pretty well. By lunch the administration had been involved as several of the more concerned senior girls had shared the flier with the office staff. Near the end of the day, Sharaun and Natalie confronted Kyle and I to ask if we were behind the fliers. We of course denied all knowledge.

Over the next few weeks, there was talk of a satanic cult in the small city of Rockledge. The flier was shown to two separate church youth groups and touted as absolutely authentic in language and symbolism (supposedly even the correct demons were named). I know this because one of our conspirators, Joey, was actually in one of the youth groups where the flier was presented. The entire group of church teens was warned about satanic cults and their influence, the whole time the flier was being used as “proof” that this sort of activity was real and happening right in their own backyard. Supposedly the youth group leader sent a copy of my little prank to a “cult expert,” although we never heard any more on that. I always wondered how Joey kept it together during that speech… I remember he was almost exploding when he called to tell us what had gone down.

Being as the flier was an “invite” to a supposed satanic event, it gave a location and date and time to show up and participate (I kept the date and time non-specific enough so that we could’ve done the prank anytime without having to modify the flier text). Our ultimate goal was to actually stake out said location on the evening of the rumored event and see if anyone (would-be satan worshippers, cops, etc.) actually showed up. Unfortunately, we couldn’t make it and to this day have no idea if anything actually went down or anyone showed up. In my head, there was a huge turnout of police cruisers, vigilante youth ministers clad in white linens and wielding holy water, and high school senior wrestlers on a mission to defend their cheerleader girlfriends from evil satanists.

So, without further ado – pulled from the shoebox that is the paper archive of my middle through high school years:

The text, for the vision impaired:

In the name of Satan, Lucifer, Belial, Leviathan, and all the demons, named and nameless, walkers in the velvet darkness, harken to us. O dim and shadowy things wraith-like, twisted, half-seen creatures, glimpsed beyond the foggy veil of time and spaceless night.

Draw near, attend us on this night of fledgling sovereignty. Welcome a new and worthy brother/sister, creature of exquisite magic light. Please attend the dark rejoice in the name of our lord Satan this day before the Sabbath at midnight. Steal forth this night and meet by the start of the wood at the corner of Eyster and US1. Thank you and may the power of Satan fill and emanate from within your soul.

The wording at the top is direct from the book, the bottom is mostly my own.

Dave out.

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spending the day with mom

No whammies...
You guys remember what it used to be like to stay home sick from school? Maybe my experiences are atypical, but I have some really fond memories of sick days. Not the middle through high school sick days where it was nothing more than playing hooky – but those gradeschool days where your mom actually judged you too ill to go to class. For me, those days were awesome – in spite of whatever was ailing me.

Those were the days where I didn’t have to get up on time, get dressed, etc. The best part was spending the day with mom. I can remember doing puzzles with her, watching TV, and her bringing me blankets and juice while I laid on the couch. You could play Nintendo, read a book, whatever you wanted. And let us not forget the jewel in the sick-day crown, getting to watch the Price is Right at 11am. Oh man, maybe they’ll show Plinko? no other game is cooler. Being sick as a kid was awesome, unless it was debilitating sick that is.

If you couldn’t tell, I cancelled my Taiwan trip and am still here in the good ol’ USA. Upon further consideration, the timing of the visit just wasn’t right – so I decided to let the company take the $100 cancellation fee and postpone. It’s fine with me really, since there is a lot to get done around here. I’ll have plenty of chances to head over there this year, so what’s a few weeks anyway. Now I can be home for all the closing of affairs with our refi, and be there when our free shade trees get delivered from SMUD.

I think we’ve decided to do pavers in the backyard instead of pouring a concrete porch. Part of the reason is because I think we may be able to save some money on materials by buying the pavers as “seconds” from the same place we bought the retaining wall stone. Also, Sharaun prefers the look of pavers to plain concrete, and to top it off – we can do the labor ourselves and at any pace we want. I’ll just price and choose what kind of stones we want, have the pallets delivered, and go at a comfortable pace the same way we did the retaining wall. Should come out looking nice I think? now I just need to come up with the scratch for the stones. My math says it’ll be about $700 for a project our size. Sprinklers, pavers, sod, landscaping – that’s the order we’ll go.

Sharaun’s folks are coming to visit for the 4th of July, it should be really fun. The more time I end up spending with my in-laws, the more I tend to look at them as family. I really like them, whereas I used to be a little afraid of them. Now I look forward to their visits and going back to Florida to spend time with them. We got a tentative rafting trip planned, one that we’ve done before up north on the Feather River. It includes an overnight stay where the rafting company takes awesome care of you and cooks dinner, has free margaritas, etc. It was so much fin last time – so I’m pretty excited about doing it again this year.

I have nothing more to say guys, lest I get even more boring. Out.

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association

It's a formal theory.
Last night, as I was driving around completing various tasks for a planned April Fools Day joke – I hit that magic triple-point of music listening. For a song, or music in general, to reach 100% of its impact potential – there are three external factors that need to be considered. Environment, mood, and activity. These three plus the music itself are the cornerstone for my theory.

When these three planets align and the right soundtrack is in the background, all is right in the world. The air seems cleaner and for a moment and you’re right where you’re supposed to be, without another thought in the world. I’ll sometimes get those brief moments of complete clarity and complacency, and they make such an impression that I can often remember them for all four defining factors.

Driving to Anthony’s as the sun goes down, crossing over the American River on the old Rainbow Bridge. Windows down and Iron & Wine cranked to 24 on the stereo. Confident and happy from a particularly productive day at work. Sam Beam’s hushed minimal folk recalling days when this really was a gold rush town.

1st Halloween in my new house, carving and painting styrofoam tombstones in my garage in the cool twilight. Enjoying myself beyond measure while the Strokes’ “Room on Fire” plays on the jambox in the background and Sharaun cooks dinner inside.

Sitting on a curb in 7th grade. Watching Kyle talk to Robin across the street, he’s asking her if she likes me. It’s the dead of summer in Florida, hot and humid – but I couldn’t be more comfortable sitting sweaty on this concrete. Led Zeppelin’s “Houses of the Holy” is on the walkman, Over the Hills and Far Away to be exact. She likes me, and my brain takes this Polaroid.

June in Yosemite. Driving the windy roads from the valley over to the Mariposa grove. Sharaun’s sister and Melissa are here to visit. Windows are down and clean Sierra air fills the cab while Death Cab for Cutie’s “The Photo Album.” The sun is out and I’m the only car on this wooded road. We all sing along.

OK, that’s really all I’ve got today. In a web-roundup, Wes sent me this link from today’s headlines. Pretty graphic pictures, but makes me wonder where some people get so disassociated with the reality of death. I mean, poking burnt corpses with shovels and hanging them from bridges? Where does that come from? It must be such a different daily reality over there. Oh, and BTK is back.

Dave out.

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rock renaissance

Cool at 12. Even cooler at 70.
$1700. That how much damage a stupid dump truck spilling gravel can do to your car. I mean, I’m sure it could be worse than that – but that’s how much damage a stupid dump truck spilling gravel did to our car. A while back though, I got smart and lowered our deductible to $250 for comprehensive – it used to be $500. It only raised the rate by a buck a month to do it, and it’s way worth it. $250 is not a break-me unexpected out-of-pocket expense, but $500 is a lot closer to that break-me limit. So, now we drop $250 on the stupid deductible. Not only that, my brother called today asking for money… again. Last year we sent him about $1200 that we’ll never see again, and this year Sharaun told me no more. He only wanted $100, which to me isn’t even worth the wire fee to get it to him. Wes suggested I tell him to check out one of those Check-and-Go paycheck advance places, I think I’ll do that. Money sucks sometimes.

I’ve been experiencing somewhat of a classic rock renaissance lately, pulling out all the music that taught me to love music. Right now I’m listening to Sgt. Pepper, perhaps the best album ever made – certainly the most influential and probably the most important. I can remember the first time I heard it, on the way to the Merritt Island Mall one summer night. Middle school was all about going to the mall for no reason. We would walk around, go into stores and not buy anything, stop at the arcade and maybe play a game or two, and get a slice of pizza from Sbarro and a smoothie from Nature’s Table. It was all about just “being there,” making the rounds, talking to the other cool kids who had perfected the art of loitering. Yeah, so sometimes we’d cash in our dollars for rolls of pennies to throw at old people, but that was a rarity.

Anyway, Kyle’s mom was driving Kyle, Kyle’s sister, and myself to the mall. I was madly in love with Kyle’s sister (well, as “in love” as a guy can be in the 7th grade). The song “It’s Getting Better” was on, and I remember thinking it was the best thing I’d ever heard. Combined with a feeling of 7th grade puppy love and a burgeoning sense of teenage independence, Sgt. Pepper was the perfect soundtrack. I had the album on vinyl, and would often put it on the stereo in my room at top volume. I’d open all the windows, lay down on the floor in the middle of all four speakers for the best stereophonic effect, and fall asleep in the sun. How could things get any better? For a few years there, my life was wholly consumed by music and girls – no debt, no job, no responsibilities. Bow my head slightly, tap my fist twice against my chest and raise a peace sign to the sky – that’s for you middle school.

To the present day, the weather is once again awesome today. I’ve heard tell that it may rain this weekend – but I can’t believe it when it’s so nice out. Honestly, it’s hazardous to go out for lunch – just getting out in the sun and seeing the sky propels my “I wanna go back to work” stores to critical levels. What, I’ve said that same thing nearly every day for a week now? Damn. Hoping that my upcoming trip to Taiwan and day off this Friday will help balance out that feeling a bit. Speaking of Taiwan, looks like I’ll be there for just over a week this time. I’m excited, since several people I know will be in town around the same time – and since I always like to travel. I only hope that I can make the most out of the trip, maybe see something I’ve not seen before. Plus, one more trip and I’ll just about have enough flyer miles for a free ticket to Europe.

I have more, but my fingers just aren’t willing. Dave out.