random darts

1. Next teusday, we are off to galicia/asturias for 2 weeks of cycling. I will be really happy to be somewhat cool again and see some green somewhere in my field of vision. I love deserts, but when the summer rolls around I am really craving wet greenness.

In Spain EVERYBODY is on vacation for the month of August. You can't count on anything getting done, be it burrocrat papers, or simply keeping a shop open. Its a ghost town at our work. It the only time of the year in Madrid that it doesn't feel like someone is following you around all day pushing you because you are not moving fast enough. So, the city heat blows but you might think that some people would be stoked to hang around and enjoy a more relaxed madrid.

But heres the curious antropological fact: Instead of taking the opportunity to be rid of their fellow humanity, everybody does the same thing. They go to the beach all at the same time. I've seen it on the news, it looks like every beach on the meditteranean is hosting Woodstock. Except theres no concert to watch, its just the beach. That is a strange contrast, Americans tend to want their space but Spanish people love to be surrounded by hoardes. You couldn't pay me to go to one of those beaches right now. I like going to the beach, having a swim, reading a book in the sand, throwing sticks to dogs, whatever....but what do you do for a month at the beach. I don't understand, at all. Isn't that exceptionally boring?

2. I was thinking of Roll this morning. Haven't seen the guy in over 10 years. I think he's a hot shit tattoo artist in portland now.
"You dont learn from books, college boy, you learn with your fists!"

3. When I was a kid we went to church every sunday at the church that was associated with my catholic school. It was boring. So boring that I read the bible to pass the time. Granted it was an illustrated bible for kids, but it was big and I read the damned thing front to back. I tended to like the monsignor (this is above a normal priest, below a bishop), I don't know why, I barely ever listened to what he said because I was so enthralled by Leviticus. I puzzled quite a bit over the organ. There was a person near the alter on the ground floor, sitting at and playing the organ. The wierd thing is there was a large almost bedroom sized wooden box with pipes coming out at the ceiling. I was told these were the organ pipes. I couldn't get my head around how pushing the keys on the organ caused air to come out of the pipes, thus making the sound. The best I could come up with is that there was a team of people inside the wooden box at the ceiling. They would have to be kneeling because the ceiling would be low in there. Clearly, when one pressed the keys on an organ it would send a signal to the person manning the corresponding pipe, and they would give it a lungful. I figured the signal would be something like a stoplight.

Later my fascination with the box of pipes morphed a bit. I would fantasize about how I could get into it, or at least up there. I could swing on a rope form the giant crucified jesus, to the angel sculpture midway up. Then with a few deft moves i could just grab a curve of one of those pipes which might allow me enough leverage to get up there.

One day, I started to visualize something that the monsignor said. He said the church was God's house and Jesus's house. I'm sure I understood this figuratively, but I had a daydreaming problem. Sometimes still to this day, what is in my head is just more intriguing than the actual world and i get lost for a little while. So I thought about where in the church Jesus lived. The priests always emerged from behind the alter, and I always wanted to go back there and see what was there. I think this is part of their theatre that grabs you imagination when you're a kid, and perhaps keeps you somewhat in their thrall in adulthood. I figured they lived back there, but i guess people probably don't live in the back of churches. Anyway, it didn't seem like Jesus just lived with the priests, what would he be doing back there when they came out for mass? Just having a cup of joe and reading the newspaper? It had to be somewhere else, and the only possible explanantion was that the organ pipe box, was Jesus's bungalow apartment in the church. Another thing the monsignor said was that the church was a house of love. This of course, would influence the decor of the Jesus apartment. I imagined all white walls, except for a big red valentine-esque heart shape painted on one wall.