Carlos, this was a fucking excellent post. Across the board the NAP is particularly kicking ass of late. I wish I wasn’t so crazy busy at the moment so I could join the conversations more.

I finally had a free moment to read your post (medevac crap in crap weather), and really enjoyed it. You have a great story telling ability that awakens all the senses with your descriptions. I played in shit when I was a kid too. My mom and I had just moved here from Australia and we lived in an ugly apartment in downtown Houston, and waded to school through sewage. Everyone thought I had shit my pants… but it was just my shoes. I’ve been trying to build out this swamped in creek here for a while, and every time I get to some new sludge of organic earth that’s been steeping in it’s own juices for years… wow. it’s totally shitty. Uncanny the resemblance to human waste, which is pretty much THE worst kind of waste. I wonder if our colons have the ability to grow legs to keep up with our habits.

The fucked up beautiful memories of childhood. Love em. Keep em coming.

Warning – The rest of this comment is gonna sound like a Creative Writing lesson…

Charlie, I agree it’s not at all an unfair question to ask which is why it was an interesting writing twist that it was left unanswered because it leaves you to not only wonder what could have happened but also forces you to ask yourself what you think happened. It also reminds the reader that they are in fact reading a story. With that in mind, it isn’t quite as fanciful as it might appear either because it’s also a warning that you must always question the author’s intent or what is fact and what isn’t. Of course if an answer had been provided it doesn’t mean that it is true. It just leaves you a lot to think about.

Anyway I’m not criticizing you for asking the question either. The blog allows feed back to and from the author and I like to use it. I asked Doug about the marriage stuff on the island, fully expecting that I might not get the answer I wanted. In the end I have to say I appreciate the deserted island dweller contemplating separation because it is a more unusual story than having him pining for inclusion.

The dancer tries to do something like “trip up” the lead drummer with his/her moves while the lead drummer tries to keep up and then respond and do the same to the dancer. So as good as the lead drummer may be, he’s only as good as the dancer allows him to be, and vice versa. In the clip the first guy is a good introduction. Its too bad that the girl dancer is blocked by her partner most of the time cuase the little you get to see her, you can see she’s really making the drummer work. But the 3rd guy is the real deal, the musical communication going on between them is reflected in the way the chorus and the other drummers pick up. This visual/aural tapestry is what bomba music is about.

Anonymous, i really wish you would pick a name, anything, just so that i could tell you apart from the other anonymouses, if indeed there are more than one. And yeah, developers man. Another day i’ll tell you the story of my Dad, The Developer. Fucking sad.

stu, packed?

anon #2, i have often wondered how the beach changed so much so quickly. i’m pretty sure it wasnt a conspiracy, but i dont really knwo for sure. The best hypothesis i have is that the constant shit (or maybe another factor) somehow affected the coral reef that runs parallel to the coastline about a mile out. Some drastic change to the reef could make the water calmer on the land side of it, once the water calms down, it stopped eroding the beach as much, therefore allowing it to grow. Thats the best i can do.

Charlie, i love abandoned places too. I love it when houses start to get overgrown with weeds and vegetation. And right now there are several houses like that on Ocean Park. Bought with big plans and then stopped by the neighborhood council or local law. There is a killer house on the corner of our street, that faces the beach and has a beautiful wrap around porch. They put chicken wire around it to keep the bums out, but a junky has figured out some secret entrance and has moved in. Nobody seems to mind much, though one neighbor told him he couldnt steal electricty from the other houses. He’s friendly when he’s around and people seem to have taken to him, like you might to a stray cat. The junky was telling my mom how he had just woken up from sleeping for like 3 days straight and my mom says, isn’t it too hot for sleeping in the day? and he says, oh no, on that porch, with the ocean breeze, its perfect. This junky is sleeping in a two million dollar porch. All in all it is what it is, and it has its own beauty when you see it changing in front of your eyes. What makes me a little sad is that I can’t be old enough to see all the time go by that i wish i could.

Sorry to thread-jack, but it’s only momentary: Do you want me to go ahead and include the next Mountain Goats track in this podcast? I have that album, so no problem there.

C

By the way, I’m probably going to put the podcast together tonight. I may be emailing some of you to ask the artist on the song(s) you sent me.