The kids would all sing, he would take the wrong key

It's a quiet Saturday morning. I just watched an excellent breakdown of what I've thought for a long time to be one of the best videos of a sasquatch filmed by one of my favorite researchers, TimberGiantBigfoot. The man who provided the breakdown goes by the name ThinkerThunker and with each video he puts out, I'm more impressed. I like that he's thorough and thoughtful in his analysis and isn't afraid to employ Occam's razor even when it defies preconceived notions.

This provides some vindication for TGB, who, for reasons I've never understood, has come under a lot of fire for being a hoaxer by other Bigfoot researchers. I've seen scores of so-called Bigfoot videos  and photos and have a discerning eye. Only a small percentage of what I've seen do I believe to be authentic. I've never had any red flags with TGB. Here's why:

1. He's released close to 500 videos since 2010. Out of those videos only a handful feature what might be an actual Bigfoot (he filmed the one in question a little over a year ago). There is compelling evidence in most of his videos, but only stuff nerdy Bigfooters like myself would be into (tracks, tree breaks, whoops, etc.). If he's hoaxing, he's being very subtle about it. Where's the payoff? I don't know.

2. He lives in a small town in Ontario and seems like a very humble family man who, aside from his YouTube channel, does not seek publicity. Heck, he frequently brings his children, who've had their own sightings, out in the field with him. If he's hoaxing, this means his kids are complicit.

3.  Many researchers suffer from pareidolia, i.e. they see things that aren't really there, like the way one might see a cloud in the sky that resembles Sean Connery. TGB will point out shapes in the trees and speculate whether it could be a Bigfoot, but hardly ever definitively concludes one way or another. Not so with some of his subscribers, who see bigfoot in every other frame. A recent video had people leaving scores of comments about a clear shot of a massive squatch that TGB somehow overlooked. TGB went back to the location and discovered that it was a tree with limbs splayed in such a way that made it look like a bipedal creature. Hoaxers generally don't do things like that.

The people who claim TGB is a hoaxer never offer any tangible proof. One guy, who, in my estimation, is a hoaxer, and a poor one at that, claims the video in question featured one of his sons wearing a monkey suit. If true, it would be the best monkey suit I think I've ever seen. And it would be atypical in that it was a reddish hue and not the typical black. Whether it's a Bigfoot cannot be established irrefutably, but whatever it is, it's massive. TGB's kids are pretty young. His eldest is probably in his late teens and lanky. He would not be able to maneuver in that "monkey suit".  Anyway, if that indeed is a monkey suit, it would be an expensive one, even as a rental. And you don't see much of it in the video, which means TGB didn't get his money's worth.

So there you go. Not a hoaxer and, if he keeps this up, TGB will capture even more compelling evidence.
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It's my last full day in Andover. I'll do some yoga and meditate and then see what's going on for later. Actually, I'm going to be a busy fella, it appears, so you may or may not be hearing from me for a bit. Depending on how you feel about this blog, this could be a good thing.

Anyway, I hope to find some time to watch Robert Redford's lost at sea movie, All Is Lost, and continue reading from Mindfulness.

Peace out.

Blood is the rose of mysterious union

I have access to cable TV here at Janelle and Bill's place, but I've only had it on once and only for about ten minutes. Know what I watched? Some Cosby Show, son! Good, clean fun that show was. Had a positive vibe but didn't get too preachy. I haven't been keeping up with sitcoms, but it seems to me most of them are kind of cynical in tone. But don't take my word for it - I'm the guy who hasn't watched TV in years. Anyway, The Cosby show was something special.

Of course, in a way I do watch TV, just online and not that often. And best of all, (mostly) commercial free. Man, when I get around a TV and a commercial comes on, I feel like puking in my mouth. Fairly often, someone will ask me if seen such and such a commercial. After I explain my TV situation and tell them how offensive I find commercials to be, they usually say something to the effect of "Well, this one is soooo funny!"  Maybe so, but all I see is someone doing whatever it takes to get into my pants. Maybe I'm uptight, but that's some unsavory shit. 

I'm not sure, I lost track at some point, but I think I'll be hitting my 10 year anniversary as concerns quitting smoking in a couple of months. I won't be marking it on my calendar or celebrating in any way - I'm not even sure this is something I'm proud of - but it is nice to reflect back every so often and feel good about a decision I made. 

It's such a disgusting, insidious, habit. It enslaves and kills you slowly, all the while convincing you that you can't live without it. Glad I stopped being its bitch.

Alright, well here's the deal: time to go. I think I want to practice some yoga and meditate and yada yada yada. Might watch the second Hobbit installment on my iPad (can't believe I haven't seen it yet and would prefer watching it on a larger screen, but I'll watch in the dark with a pair of headphones on. Won't be so bad. 

Peace out, rascals!

Maybe she can rest a while, maybe she will show her smile

I had a two hour nap this afternoon. To the extent that I take naps, which is seldom, I hardly ever sleep longer than 45 minutes. Well, today I was in a quiet house and I probably needed to catch up on some sleep. I ended up going to bed late last night and woke up early to take out Pooch Edward Bottoms. The other day I learned the Hare Krishna Mahamantra, the power of which I kept hearing about from various sources. I fell asleep to a recording of the chant this afternoon. Maybe that contributed to my lengthy slumber. Who knows.

Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare....

If you're concerned I'll shave my head and  start wearing a robe, don't worry. I have no plans of becoming a devotee, but I'm trying the chant and if it is effective, I'll continue with it. Chanting is powerful stuff, but I can see why, especially if you have little or no involvement with it, you might be skeptical. But, look, I don't need to answer to you, so fuck off! See how spiritual I am?

For well over a week I've been researching tattoos. Yes, after many years on this planet, I've decided I want to get a couple. The idea feels right on numerous levels. What I want to do is get either matching or two separate mandalas on the underside of each wrist. There are so many negative images in this world, I like the idea of having positive, comforting, and possibly transformative images I can look at any time. Talismans.Also, having mandalas on my wrist will be a reminder for me to keep on the spiritual path. 

So I've been looking at lots and lots of mandalas and seeing which ones speak to me. Many have, but there's one from Carl Jung's Red Book that is the leading contender. It could very well be the one - probably have it on both wrists - but I want to make sure I know enough about it before I proceed. If it's somehow a cursed image or representative of something I don't jive with, well, that would be good to know before I have it permanently scrawled on my body. 

The whole process has been thrilling and a little scary. I may have to wait a bit having it done. I've learned that it's kind of an involved process getting a tattoo. There's a consultation and often times a lengthy waiting list. Guess it depends on where you go. I thought it would be simpler than that, but I'm new to this game. Still, I'd like to have it done sooner than later. It seems things have been sliding in place for this to work at this time. We'll see. And, you know, maybe I won't go ahead with it. I most definitely will, though. T'will be life affirming.

Alright, it's off with me. Perhaps I'll read from Mother Night this evening. Vonnegut is appropriate almost always. 

G'night, puppies.

You know the future's many dreams away

It is Friday and I am hanging out with the Baby Boy Z. My commute home from work was ten minutes. That has been an exquisite feature of my house sitting stint. Zico is licking my bare leg. Hold on....

I think he needs to go out.

I'm back. Z dragged his heels a bit near the end of the walk so he could eat grubs in the field. I'm surprised he had enough room for supper, but he ate heartily upon our return. I, too, had dinner, minus the grabs. An absolutely lovely salad I ate, which included some tomato from Janelle's garden. I'm all about pesticides and GMO, but every once in a while it's nice to eat something fresh.

I started reading Joseph Goldstein's Mindfulness last night. More and more I see how being mindful, embodying the teachings of The Buddha, is the way to go, perhaps the only way to go. At least for me. Most religions, when you get past the dogma and other bullshit, teach pretty much the same thing, but in different ways. All roads lead to Rome.

Yes, kittens, I am trying to engineer my own evolution so that I may be of better service to myself and the likes of you. Or something like that.

Ok, you got a lengthy post last night, so I'm going to wrap this up. I'll be back soon.

In the meantime, I will go practice some yoga, work on some music (I'm eager to get cracking with the ladies upon Janelle's return from France), meditate, horse around with Pooch Edward Bottoms, and read.

G'night, supplicants.

She lives on love street, lingers long on love street

I bet you thought I was never coming back. Well, child, here I am, ready to reveal every secret, every hope and dream, everything that is stored deep in the caverns of my skull.

Or not. Actually, definitely not. It would be impossible and anyway you definitely do not want access  to the lower, hidden depths of my being. No, sir, you do not. Even Billy knows better not plumb the depths of me.

What I will do is provide you with a general accounting of certain aspects of my life (insert yawn here). Thrilling, I know, but whatever. I don't get paid to do this, ya dig?

Really, though, I do try to be thoughtful about what I write about here, especially as concerns other people. As you know, I don't often reveal too much about other people in this blog, and when I do it's because I've determined the material won't embarrass or incriminate them. The reason I bring this up is because I have some good material, but am not sure what I want to divulge. Whatever, let's get this dog and pony show on the road.
--

I finally got to go camping this year. Near the end of last week, Kat invited me to join her for the weekend at the New England Brewfest up in Tamworth, NH. I'm not much of a beer connoisser, especially as concerns home brewing, but it sounded fun, especially the part about camping on site, and it's important to be spontaneous and do stuff in life that might actually be fun.

So both us were able to get out of work early on Friday and from Kat's place up in Manchester we took her blue box truck/camper up to Tamworth. We stopped for groceries and grabbed dinner at a cozy little restaurant on the way.

I didn't know what to expect, but I was glad that I didn't talk myself out of the trip. We arrived at the campground a little after sunset. The festival was in full effect in a field near the entrance. Kat's friend, Jodi, had reserved us a camp site at the end of a dirt road in the woods, the far perimeter of the campground. A fine location; we could experience some quiet and wouldn't be subjected to sounds of revelry coming from the festival.

Because Kat's truck had screened windows and a large bunk in the back, we didn't have to worry about setting up tents. This was good, because it was pretty dark in those woods. We unpacked a bit and then met up with Kat's friends, which was pretty much Jodi and her family, at the fairground. We were given cups and went around to some of the brewer's booths to sample some beer, all of which was strong in flavor and not very much to my liking.

The next day was more of the same, but with other activities mixed in. Kat had brought a couple of mountain bikes and I spent the good chunk of early part of the day riding through the campground. I hadn't ridden a bike in years and it was thrilling! I was pleased to discover that not only did it all come back to me fairly quickly, but my body didn't have an adverse reaction to the activity. No, I felt as hale, or seemingly so, as when I was I younger. Perhaps all the yoga is paying off.

Perhaps.

Periodically, I'd join everyone at the fairground. I was all for drinking all day and into the night, but not with these beers (it wasn't until later on in the night when I found a booth with beers that didn't need to be eaten with a spoon). I ended up drinking some and then heading back to the camper to read some Gurdjief, the Russian philosopher/mystic. That was the pattern of the day, albeit with some modifications.

Throughout the day, I encountered people smoking grass who were kind enough to share. Since everyone was pretty much drunk at this event and I wasn't going to be doing that much drinking, my plan was to smoke a bunch. The plan came to fruition nicely. At some point I lost track of Kat. I saw her friend Mary at one point and she said Kat had gone off with a couple of people. I didn't see her until later on that evening.

I ended up by myself through the late afternoon into the evening. Part of me was ok with it but another part felt lonely. Every once in a while I'd see some of Kat's friends, but I didn't really have too much of a connection with them. And, you know, talking to a bunch of inebriated people when you're not is often kind of a drag. People get kind of dopey and unintelligible when they're in their drink. That is fine, no judgment here, but, unless I'm buzzed or drunk, too, it can be a drag. Fortunately, a really good bluegrass band called The Crunchy Western Boys took the stage when it got dark and played an amazing, flawless set. Kat's friend Mark, a fellow guitar player, was a big fan of the band and was thrilled they were booked at this event. We stood and watched together.

Near the end of their set, I walked back to the camper in the dark and read some more Gurdjieff.  I had an epiphany that I should go back and talk to the fiddle player from the band. "I bet he'll have some weed", I thought. I don't know why I thought this but there it was.

So I went back and, wouldn't you know it, hung out with the fiddle player by the side of the stage. He had a lit joint in hand when I approached. We talked music and smoked some. Weird and fortuitous  how that turned out.

The whole trip felt like a dream and that was because so much of what I saw and did had already played out in past dreams. No shit, man. Between feeling like I was in a dream almost the entire time and having my mind bent and trod upon by Gurdjief, I was really somewhere else. Felt good. I needed to be somewhere else. I was feeling oppressed in the city and pretty much everywhere else and needed to be outside in the woods. Good medicine.

As the night neared its end, I retired to our campsite and played some songs in the dark for a couple of hours. Two of Kat's friends had a tent nearby. They asked me to keep playing through the night if I could. That was nice to hear.

A good trip and I'm glad I went. One reason I like hanging out with Kat is because in a lot of ways she's fearless and not afraid to be spontaneous. She helps me get out of my comfort zone, which I'm not always inclined to do on my own. We had a good time.

Alright, this mega post needs to end. I'm house sitting for Janelle and Bill while they're away in France. Aside from some craziness with the Baby Boy Z yesterday, it's been nice having a quiet place to myself.

There is more to catch up on, but not tonight. I'll report back sooner than later.

Namaste

Won't you stay, we'll put on the day, and we'll wear it till the night comes

Perhaps it's because I haven't smoked in a while, but my dreams have been vivid. I'm keenly aware that the retelling of dreams is usually only interesting to the teller, but because I don't keep a dream journal, I'm going to jot down a few notes concerning a few I've had recently. Anyway, you're a skimmer, so it's not like I'll be putting you out.

Dream  #1

I came upon my cousin Erin at the laundromat on Broadway. I was surprised to see her out of context. Normally a positive person and achievement oriented, she professed to be down on her luck.

The scene shifted to a modest house near a beach in Costa Rica. My cousin approached an older couple who were embracing in their kitchen and separated them gently, guiding the man over to me as she held the hand of the woman.

I didn't feel right about interrupting the lives of these strangers, but suddenly I found myself engaging in a goofy kind of waltz with this man while my cousin did the same with the woman. We danced around the house.

I have no idea where this dream came from.

Dream # 2

This occurred last night or, rather, this morning. I've been having dreams of being involved with different women at various stages of romantic involvement. They're great while they last but it sucks when I wake up.
Yeah, so I was in bed with a woman who reminded me of Kristen Wiig. It was morning and we were engaged in a light session of fooling around. I got the sense we didn't know each that well but were about to be a couple (a running theme in these dreams of women). A person we both knew approached the bed and started talking to us. He didn't realize we had taken things to an amorous level. I didn't mind talking with him but I wanted him to leave for obvious reasons. He eventually did and my "mate" and picked up where we left off. As things picked up steam, she got up to use the bathroom. While she was gone I started waking up. I rebelled, struggled to keep myself there, but it all broke apart like wet tissue.

Booooooo!!

-

The Ignore Emporium family has expanded. Yesterday, Michelle, Janelle and I had our first practice at Janelle and Bill's place. It was a productive session. It was clear early on that we had good chemistry and a similar vision as to how to treat the music. It was gratifying working with others again. One of my favorite aspects of playing in a band was the practices, the rolling up your sleeves and getting some good work done ethic. I hope we keep this up - I think we will. Invigorating!

The weekend was long but almost over. The sinister forces are speeding up the apocalypse and summer's breath recedes making room for another projected brutal winter. Still, one finds reasons to carry on in loving defiance.

Peace, brothers and sisters.

Rejoice, rejoice, we had no choice

I've been looking for jobs every day and so far haven't found much of anything promising. It's been like sifting for gold at the edge of a nearly dry creek bed. Discouraging, yes, but also empowering inasmuch as I'm being proactive. Something will come along eventually. Just have to keep plugging away. The question is should I find a part time job to supplement my current one or get a new full time job? I'm exploring  my options.

And while I'm at it, I'm researching, albeit without much vigor so far, other career possibilities, like work at home jobs and yoga teacher training, which is looking better and better to me. I've worked a lot of shit jobs in my time and I'd like to find something that pays well and is gratifying. Can it happen? Sure, but sometimes I wonder as I scour hundreds of jobs a night that I'm either unqualified for or that have every appearance of being soul-sucking. I'll find something, just have to keep at it.
--
I had what may have been a paranormal experience yesterday. I was at my mom's house and had gone upstairs to the office (my old bedroom) to check something on her computer while she was out walking Mimi. After a few minutes I looked behind me and discovered the door was almost completely closed. I never close that door. When I use my mother's computer, it's usually for her benefit. I anticipated her joining me when she returned from her walk because I was researching toilet repair videos on YouTube (hers is having minor issues) and wanted to show her what I found. Closing the door would have signaled a need for privacy.

The office has two windows and both were shut. The AC was on in my mother's room across the hall cooling the entire upstairs, so I immediately ruled out a breeze from outside as the cause. Even if there was one, I doubt it would have had enough force to maneuver the door, which brushes against the carpet and doesn't swing loose. It was a hot day and I was in a small room with the windows shut. Even with the door open, it can get stuffy in there. Closing it would have been counter-intuitive.

I told my mother what happened when she joined me. She was nonplussed. I didn't mention it to her, but when I discovered the door was shut, I thought of my father.  During my last visit, I had asked my mother if she had encountered any ghostly activity since my father passed away. She said she hadn't and joked that my father probably couldn't wait to get out of there. I'm convinced there is genuine paranormal activity that occurs in the world; I'm just not sure what causes it. I'm not married to the idea that it was the ghost of my father that shut the door, but I won't rule it out.

And look, it could have been me that did it. Even though I think it implausible, it's still possible I was the cause. I was thinking about how I should articulate my search query on YouTube; I could have shut the door while ruminating about toilet parts (something I do more than you'll ever know), unaware on a conscious level that I did it. Who knows.

My gut tells me it wasn't me that did it. I'll leave it at that.
--
Boy, did I have a nightmare last night. I was alone in an ill-lit attic between two wide screen TVs  that were spaced about ten feet apart. Each were broadcasting liquid, trippy images of satanic imagery and symbols. One would draw me in close and when I managed to pry myself from its allure, I'd be drawn to the other. Back and forth I went, trapped between two masters. At one point I realized it was a dream and knew that the only way out of this was for me to wake up, but I barely had sovereignty over myself. It took a colossal, panicked effort, but I eventually woke up.

 Maybe I shouldn't have eaten five bowls of chili before bed. Well, it was Billy who suggested it. I'll have to have words with him.

I hope to have better dreams tonight. Perhaps my return to a regular meditation practice will pay off. We'll see.

Namaste, lovers.