I loved these guys when I was in high school. I had a bunch of 45s of their records. Still makes me happy.

https://grooveshark.com/#!/search/song?q=firehouse+5+plus+2

We had a real hot day (for us) a few days ago and I took a long bike ride to a pond deep in the hills. To get in the water I had to make a tunnel through the cattails. The technique is to wade forward and lie down on the cattails and they will accomodatingly bend over, and then when you can’t wade, you swim forward and push them down and pretty soon voila!, you’ve entered the pond through a cattail tunnel. Smooth pond surface.

   Being back in jock mode now that I’m home, intending to build back strength lost in recent months (years), I started out with my triathalon style crawl, smooth and steady. Jeez, it felt good, but after a while I decided to float for a while, and as soon as I did, 3 iridescent red dragonflies buzzed out from the shore like combat helicopters, skimming the surface and angling around my head. They’d go back to shore and buzz out again, I guess cruising for insects. Sparkling. Pretty cool. I decided to float longer. A little bird—dark on top, white on bottom, species I’d never seen—hopped down on a cattail 10′ from me. Didn’t register to him this was a humanoid.

  Then there was movement on the hill and a magnificent buck deer walked serenely across the hillside, oblivious of me. The full monte. Now I’m truly home.

   This morning on the highway, there were 3 crows sitting on the line, looking kind of hunched up, not normal. There was a dead crow on the road — never seen one that I can think of, and these family members were doing I don’t know what. But crows are powerfully intelligent creatures (see the book Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays by Candace Savage) and this was a strong scene.

   On the way back from yoga, the Beach Boys doing “Good Vibrations” on radio. Jeez, this is a masterpiece. Back in the day I never took them seriously. The only one who was real surfer was Dennis. They just seemed lightweight in my quest to be ever hip. I overlooked the soaring harmonies and intricate instrumentals. This is on the Mozart level.

I was going over some old files in preparation for working on our new book on 21st century nomadics, and ran across this letter from Serena in Home Work (p.176). It refers to the 37 Chevy flatbed truck converted to a rolling home by Joaquin de la Luz and his wife Gypsy, and featured in Shelter (pp. 90-91), and in later years used as a bedroom by 4-year-old Serena. It was such a nice example of happy childhood memories, I thought I’d reprint it here.

“My earliest memories of the Gypsy Wagon begin when I was three or four years old. At that point, our family had settled down in a little house on the Klamath River, in Northern California. We had all moved out of the Gypsy Wagon but I really missed it. I remember begging my mom and dad to let me use it as my bedroom. Luckily for me, my parents were such free spirits that they could really relate to my independence. The wagon became my room. I have memories of kissing my parents goodnight, leaving the house, and walking to my own little Gypsy Wagon. I had a huge doll that my mom had made for me, named “Howdy Doody.” She made it out of vintage dress fabric, with old mother-of-pearl buttons for the eyes and mouth.  Each night, I’d hoist Howdy Doody over my shoulder (he was bigger than me) and off we’d go. I loved the coziness I felt each night as I climbed into my bed. I remember the beautiful hand construction of the wagon, the texture of the wood, the hinges, and the little window above my bed. Everything about it was so warm. I think what made it so special was that is was filled with good intentions. My parents set out in the Gypsy Wagon because they were peaceful people. Their travels always had the purpose of happiness. The wagon was constructed almost entirely of other people’s discarded junk. My father’s creativity soared as he built it, and my mother made it a home.To this day, I really appreciate the warmth of simple things like old fabric and rusty metal. This is my history, as a child of  free spirits with peace as their purpose. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

   -Serena”

https://shltr.net/inhscalif

Thanks to Bob Dow

In Williamsburg, Brooklyn

75 breweries, 150 beers https://bkbeerfest.com/