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frank and the road to nowhere

You know... I don't know how this ties in... sorry.
Missed yesterday because I was in a class all day, being taught how to “Work with China.” I guess because my whole industry is “offshoring” work to China – so I need to get better at working with these folks by better understanding their cultural and political situations. The class was interesting, mostly just because history and culture are interesting to me to begin with. Anyway, at least now I’m prepared for the eventual communist China takeover of the world’s tech industry. Sign me up, me and Mao go way back.

I had this whole entry written Friday to post Monday, so it would appear my writing hadn’t slacked off – but I decided against it, as it was mostly religion-themed. Who wants to read three pages of my rambling about the scientific vs. Biblical age of the earth anyway. So really, by not posting yesterday – I saved you. Your faith, assuming you have any, is safe from further erosion by my misguided “intellectualism.” But for real, 6000 years old and we lived with dinosaurs? I just don’t get it anymore. Oops, sorry.

Talked to Frank yesterday, he’s still in the Army. He’s signed up to go to Alaska and build roads in some remote town for a month in June. When I asked him why they were building roads there, who’s driving there – he responded by calling the place “the Alaskan whore.” Apparently all the branches of the military go there and build stuff. If you believe him, they have no reason for building it other than to round out some defense budget. In the Army they call the project, unofficially, “the road to nowhere.”

Other than building pointless roads in order to spend money and keep busy – he’s doing pretty good. He also said he’s leaving for Iraq in January of 2005, which seemed a little far off to me for him to already be so sure about? but he swears he’s already slated for the tour. When I asked about the fact that Bush said we’re pulling out and giving the country to the Iraqis – he just laughed. Comforting. Good to know we’re paving rainforests and fighting wars for the betterment of our country. Jeez, I think California is turning me into a pinko liberal… umm… “kill the poor and gimme back my guns!” There… that’s better.

This weekend was a busy one. Rented a jackhammer to plant some trees in the backyard. Yeah, a jackhammer. Makes the digging so much easier in a backyard that’s more rock than dirt. Got six holes dug and filled with trees, and it really “greens up” the yard. Soon enough I’ll have something that looks more like a suburban backyard more than it does the surface of Mars. Mowed the lawn, edged, pulled weeds, and did various other yardie stuffs. Still found time to see Kill Bill 2, drink a little bit, and head out for some wakeboarding on Sunday. Didn’t get to ride though, as my crazy-allergy-itchy thing came back with a vengeance on the river. What’s wrong with me?

I had another paragraph here, but it was dumb so I deleted it. Like the last song on Let It Bleed, or falling gold bars, I’m out.

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the smooth licks of carlos

You think gold bars leave a mark?
Hot-damn people. What’s happening with this week? I haven’t been this distracted from writing since my last year of college, trying to worm my way through those last classes so I could escape from academia. I need to write, I gotsta write… here I go! Hold me back!

In the seventh grade I met Kyle. We were best friends in no time, my bond with him eclipsing those of my other friends almost immediately. He became the closest of my friends in the middle school crew. Not long after I started hanging out with Kyle, I developed a huge crush on his little sister. I mean, it was only natural. She was awesome, fun, cute, and ultimately accessible. I had “liked” girls before, but this was different. You know that first girl you were ever completely infatuated with? That was Kyle’s sister. My first “love.”

At first, I think it was a one-sided thing. I would flirt as best I could without making a big deal about it so Kyle could notice. However, as the years passed – it became something more serious. Eventually, we were sneaking around – sitting on either side of Kyle while we played Leisure Suit Larry on his mom’s computer, all the while holding hands right behind his back. It became the most exhilarating thing in the world.

Sometime in 8th grade, Kyle moved across town. I would still spend the night at his house often, and I would use those times equally to hang with my best friend – and flirt with his sister. Around this time, she and I had started passing notes in school. I don’t know how it happened, but we had to be super-secretive about it. The whole note-writing phase of our courtship was right around the time that the boys and I had cracked the Astro code, and having taught the code to Kyle’s sister – we added an extra layer of security to our clandestine missives by encoding them.

I’ll never forget trying to pass these secret notes to each other between classes, slipping them in locker slits, dropping them on the ground in view of each other, and plain being sly while exchanging them with Kyle right there. I would read each note with such attention, savoring each and every word. If there was ever a boy so painfully in love, it was me. We kept writing notes, and I kept spending the night, and things started getting worse. Kyle was starting to notice things.

One night, we had gone over to Kyle’s grandmother’s house – which was walking-close to his place. I was spending the night that night, and Kyle, his sister, and I were all walking back from his grandmother’s. At some point in the walk, she managed to slip me a note she’d written sometime that day. I remember barely being able to contain myself, I wanted to read it right then and there. As soon as we got back to the house, I went to the bathroom and took the note with me. I could read code like it was plain english by this point – and what I read made my heart race and head swim.


“I can tell you this now, I love you.”

She loved me? Holy crap! My heart must have been going a mile a minute. I can remember hurriedly writing a note in response the very next morning. Kyle had left me alone in his room while he mowed the lawn, and I broke out paper and pencil to confess my reciprocal pining to his sister. Santana’s “Samba Pa Ti” was on the stereo, the window was open, and I wrote a love letter to my best friend’s little sister to the hum of a lawnmower and the smooth licks of Carlos. After we had confessed our undying love for each other, we just had to keep our “relationship” a secret from the world.

What a great year or so. I remember holding hands on the couch in the dark, watching the “Lost Boys” while Kyle busied himself flirting with a friend of his sister’s who was also spending the night. In honesty, we had the best arrangement ever. Kyle got all his sister’s friends, and I got to keep busy with his sister. This hormone-filled middle school boy’s utopia was short lived though, and it was all do to one fateful double-sleepover night. The castle came tumbling down the morning Kyle’s mom walked into his room to find her daughter and I sharing a blanket on the floor while her son lay in bed under the covers with her daughter’s sleepover guest. What an awkward over-pancake discussion that breakfast was. In the end, we nearly lost simultaneous sleepover privileges – but it was worth it.

Not long after, Kyle asked me point-blank if I liked his sister. He said it was no big deal, and that every friend he ever had always ended up liking her. I wanted to be different, so I lied to him. I didn’t want to be “using” him for her, and I wasn’t. Anyway, before I knew it – his sister was “dating” some dude. I never got so much as a breakup note or a “goodbye.” Just found out one day that she was dating this dude in her grade. Crushed, I eventually grew out of my gradeschool puppy-love – but not without some amazing memories of hidden car-ride hand-holding, the smell of her wet hair in the morning, and my first-ever head-over-heels love.

This just in, this entry wins 1st place for use of hyphenated compound-words. Seriously, what’s up with that? Dave out.

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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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freeze-camping

It's a GIS for "writer's block."
I guess I just haven’t had much time to write, and there’s been so much going on in my head. I keep thinking of fun things to write about, but keep running out of time to write them down. Hopefully now I’ll have a little more time to keep up with things, it was just an insane weekend… really.

So yeah. A long, and well received, weekend. Paintball on Friday, freeze-camping and hiking in the snow in Yosemite on Saturday and Sunday, and a Sacramento-to-Oakland yacht trip on Monday. I learned I like bloody marys, Sharaun and I took shelter from the snow under a rock, I found out I’m either OK at, or got lucky at, paintball, and I’ve still got it. Indeed, it was a fine weekend. Being so busy, the blog suffered some. I don’t really mind though, as it was nice to have an extended break from writing – gives me a chance to build up something to actually write about.

You know how some people change the letters on the back of their pickup trucks to say things like “toy” or “yo” instead of Toyota? Well the other day I pulled up to a Ford F150 Lariat Edition at a stoplight. I was thinking, if you took off the ‘T’ and completed the bottom round of the capital ‘R,’ you could make it the F150 “LABIA” edition. That cracked me up for a good minute or so.

More better to come this week, I promise. 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.