the subject appears to be hissing like a scared cat at the march of time
Our best man has hit a milestone, passed a gallstone, punched rolstone and bought a home all in this year alone. Friday night found me in Foster City for cake and ice cream to celebrate it. It has been interesting to watch Sean live his life as close as I have for the last 18 years or so.
When he first moved to California he couldn’t hold a job or find one worth keeping. He took a real cut in pay and status to marry his sweetheart and he moved away from his New Hampshire family and friends to be with her.
9 years later his mother, sister and two nieces are all living out here as well, along with his old high school pal – me, the rolstone he punched. The marriage is strong and producing a litter of pups and the best part is, he’s not even working right now even though he bought a house! Life in California is truly a wonderful thing and I’m lucky to have him out here with me, so happy discount birthday Scrondo!
Someone gave me a truckload of furniture, but it all smells funny. I’m selling it on craigslist for 200 bucks for everything.
There is a Duncan Phyfe table and six chairs (2 captain’s). Duncan Phyfe refers to the tripod leg style. Here’s a bit about Mr. Phyfe from some website:
“Duncan Fife started life in Scotland; he was born in 1768 near Loch Fannich. When he was 16, his family immigrated to Albany, New York and young Duncan was apprenticed in a cabinetmaker’s shop, probably his father’s. By 1792, Duncan had moved to New York City and was listed as a furniture joiner. Two years later, he opened his own shop and changed his name to Duncan Phyfe, probably to distance himself from his British heritage in this post Revolutionary War period.”
This is an image search photo so you can get an idea of the table legs. You’ll see this table at just about every antique store. Like mine, they are probably early 20th century reproductions. Mahogany veneer, not solid wood.
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Someone spent some time on this one.
Sonja, whose flickr photostream we saw a few weeks ago, sent me a little banner she drew this evening. I’m not sure how she got me looking so sweet in that dress, but that’s an artist for you.
I expect a little sympathy when I land.
I just want to say, you’ve really grown up. And I think it’s time for me to pass this on. Check out page 36. Girl on girl. My first time. That’s why I kept this magazine all these years.
It means a lot to me. And I want you to have it. You’re a man now. Almost. There’s some things I want you to be aware of. Why a woman needs to be held. Where the clit is. The 900 number if you want to play.
bi curious or whatever.
Anyway, this magazine is important to me. I’ve had it under my bunkbed. Under my waterbed. Under my Queen. And between the cushions on many couches in between when I was surfing. But it’s never been more than a furtive grope away. Now it’s your turn.
You’re my son. I love you.
what are we supposed to be doing with our lives? rushing towards sophistication faster than it is killing us in hopes of getting off this planet right before it burns down? i’m driving a big dirty truck around town with what used to be a forest all sawed and stacked in the back, planks soaked in toxic chemicals to prevent rot that will be a deck so someone can stand on it and look over at the neighbors house.
i kid myself that this construction game has purity. but it does feel anachronistic. i work with guys who don’t email. don’t have email accounts. don’t have a computer, don’t have one at work, don’t go to a library to use one, these guys don’t touch computers.
meanwhile we are surrounded by wireless energy transmitting data like ESP. the machines are powerful, and someone knows how to make my child’s eyes green like doctors used to make my knee bend. just poke right here.
is it a meaningful resistance to ignore the onslaught? if one of these carpenters dies refusing to create a log in name and password, will he go to heaven? it’s too late for me, but i’m trying to find the value in standing in sawdust while google watches me from a low orbit.
send me a photo of yourself and we’ll see how you fit in with the class of ’38.
bought this book at a yard sale today
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i love going to the dump…
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one half of san francisco can look like this while on the other side of the peaks it will be sunny and warm. this is the house next to where we’ve been working.
this is the fog moving in.
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