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My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

tough guy poetry and manly stories of loneliness
all contents copyright Jon Rolston 2004, 2005, 2006

February 28, 2010

and so i did

Me: is that the name of your blog?

Dude: I hate blogs.

Me: Thats funny. Can I take a picture of it?

Dude: ok

Me: I’m gonna blog about it!

old man at the flea market

Original hipster?

February 27, 2010

they didn’t think they needed a truck

Seemed like innocent fun: rolling a matress home on a skateboard. What they didn’t consider was my God is an angry God. 8.8 Chile? And a typhoon rainstorm for you skateboard movers.

February 26, 2010

The sea wall is eroding at Ocean Beach. I backed the truck up and stood inside as wind whipped the rain against the box and the waves rolled in.

this was the future of moving


why am i here? (online)

This month has been busy, working a lot if unpaid hours trying to get my business stepped up a level and struggling to control my pack rat tendencies.

It has led to a peculiar existential crisis: an online identity crisis. What is the purpose of blogging? What’s this blog for? The answer can’t be “fun”. Sometimes I go to bed rather than upload a post. Other times I press “publish” and wish it had been “delete” instead. It seems uninspired. But I wordpress on.

Have psychologists been contacted for help from a patient who is adjusted in offline life but can’t figure out where they belong in cyberspace? Am I getting to the age where I should be blogging about my children instead of myself? Should I concentrate more energy on rolstonhauls.com instead of this space? I have my career to consider after all and MRIP is a money loser.

It’s a way to share, a form of bragging, a stab at fame, an illusion of immortality. Some part of all that.

February 25, 2010

the white car appears to be going the wrong direction. That’s the problem with cameras. They can’t show you the guy driving backwards down Bayshore Avenue at 35 miles an hour.

Haven’t seen any of the Olympics since mens figure skating. The night started at Doug and Jenny’s, women’s halfpipe. We were bored out of our skulls. Snowboarders spin around twice, maybe three times, then do the same thing again.

The worst part was the baggy clothes they wore. No way to see how their bodies moved. The US team uniform was similar to what hog farmers in the midwest have been wearing for the past 150 years – torn up jeans and a plaid shirt. I guess it was supposed to look grunge. Is that an important part of the Olympics?

The American commentator tore into the Chinese team, saying, effectively, that snowboarding is supposed to be done because you love to do it, not because the government trains you to do it.

That made me feel weird. I’m not sure what information the man had. Are Chinese girls taken from their families and forced to snowboard from a young age?

I was so bored with the competition, I didn’t care what the answer was. Then mens figure skating came on. Holy smokes. Those dudes spin around about 30 times in a row. They also wear really bizarre costumes. One guy, who won, had puffy snakes sewn across his leotard and little shoulder pads that made him look Romulan.

But what I loved was the back story. The 16 year old with harlequin face paint like you’d find on a drunken girl at the Ren Faire was an orphan adopted off the streets in Brazil by a French couple. Then there was the Korean kid who was part of a minority in Kazakhstan and learned to skate at a rink in a mall there. WTF?

These were kids who’d come up from some mean streets and weren’t afraid to have glitter on their costumes. None of the fake baggy jean toughness of snowboarders. None of the instant cool of the newest thing. Just people putting blades on their feet and a little something in their crotch to round things out down there.

February 24, 2010

photo posted from my iPhone

February 23, 2010

“Most of them guys they work and work at it and never get far from home,” Rus said as we watched some bluegrass singer on the tv. “They come from that part of the country where you can’t go to the other side of the mountain without getting your ass shot off.”

He headed out to Orlando Florida today to see a tractor show. Big ol’ antique tractor meet, people trailering in their restored iron horses and showcasing the labor of love that births hand forged crankshafts for one of a kind kerosene powered tillers.

He fought off the big C last fall and I got a little worried to think of him flying on his own across the country. But then he showed me something. He went down to Radio Shack all by hisself and bought a new cell phone. “So my brother-in-law can pick me up at the airport.”

I noticed what looked like a circle drawn in red crayon around one button. “Why’d you circle that one?” I asked.

“That’s so I know what to push for my speakerphone.”

“I’m real proud of you Russel,” I said. I meant it.

like i said, “need a truck?”

Saw it on Cesar Chavez.

ralston halls

This was a weird sign to see a day after buying a domain with a very similar name.

February 21, 2010

modern maturity

Step two in adulthood. I spent $50 dollars on new pillows this afternoon.

i wish they were clouds

As a symbol of my maturity, I’m patching up the holes from an angrier time.

Update: I used stucco mix by accident. Take two tomorrow.

need a truck?

does fine till the hills

If you see an example out there in your world where that title would be appropriate, take a picture and send it to me. Chirag and Elliot built me a new work website. There’s not much up there yet, we just went live. Check out rolston hauls

Remember, it’s not finished yet. It’ll get better. Feel free to leave suggestions below.

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