everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated

recommended mp3 - bright eyes - lua

we waited in the car while my uncle went into the small wooden church. somehow what was meant to be a quick stop turned into a longer stop. endless hungarian conversations. I didn't bring a book so my eyes searched for anything interesting. the sun was almost gone and it gave an orangeish hue to some of the old buildings. the little stream that runs behind the church had settled down to a whisper. the smell of the van, i can hear the dust collecting on the windows. for sometime it was just us on the quiet road. than a man walking a bike came into view. he was concentrating hard on not falling. he was so drunk that he zigzagged across the road. he took probably twenty minutes to get near the van, each of us entertained by his stagger. when he was just passed us, he tried to mount the bike to ride away, the moment his feet left the ground the entire bike collapsed. for a while there was a pile of bike and man allover the road. arms, gears, legs, chains, fingers, frames all moving around trying to right themselves. my uncle has more compassion than i and helps the poor man to his feet. they talk for a while and my uncle offers him a ride home. the man accepts but there is a concern about what will happen to his bike. you don't just leave bikes laying around for anybody to take. at least not on this continent. i volunteer to ride the bike home behind the van. The van takes off and i scramble to catch up, but the moment i put weight on the pedal the chain comes off. i tried to fix the chain but the gears are too close together and won't hold enough tension to make the whole system work. so for quite a while i put one foot on the bike and use one foot to propel me onward like a scooter. this works for a while and i get a kick out of doing this. some little romanian girls are playing in the street as i pass. I yell "howdy!" in my most american voice and it kills me how funny they think this is. they throw their heads back to laugh. after a while the people in the van are frustrated w/me since their pace is so slow. i talk to the van people and its decided that i should hold on to the driver side door and hitch a ride w/the van. i'm a bit nervous about this idea but the scooter thing was getting pretty tiring. i lock my elbow through the driver's side window and were off. the pace starts pretty slow but soon my uncle is driving fast enough to make me uncomfortable. he keeps talking to the drunken man all the while i'm holding on for dear life bracing for every hundred-year pothole, arm cramping up in tension and fear. it seems like a long trip to the man's house but that's probably just my opinion. the summers sun had set and the cool night was already on its way. colors already fading. eventually we slow down and stop at a small house outside of town; there is a field of hay on our right. my uncle got out and we put the man's bike away, he was surprised that the bike was there and when my uncle explained how we got it there the man listened intently. i saw the moment he understood by his expressions. he smiled a big toothless smile put his hand on the side of my face and said some words that have no meaning to me. i smile at his drunked good naturedness, but i don't need any thank yous - this is why i travel.

my heart has thawed and continues to beat

Name's Smalls. Leonard Smalls. My friends call me Lenny... only I ain't got no friends.

There's right and there's right and never the t'wain shall meet


Biology and other peoples' prejudice conspired to keep us childless

[Evelle picks up a pack of balloons]
Evelle: Do these blow into funny shapes and all?
Grocer: Well, no, unless round is funny.

Gale: You understand, H.I.? If this works out, it's just the beginning of a spree to cover the entire southwest proper. And we keep going until we can retire. Or we get caught.
Evelle: Either way, we're fixed for life.

Old man in the bank: Now, what's it gonna be young feller? You want I should freeze or get down on the ground? 'Cause if'n I freeze, I can't rightly drop. And if'n I drop, I'm gonna be in motion.

H.I.: [thinking] If not Arizona, then a land not too far away. Where all parents are strong and wise and capable. And all children are happy and beloved. I don't know. Maybe it was Utah.

did the wine make her dream of a far distant stream
or a bed full of hens or a ghost of a friend

all the while that she wept she'd a gun by her bed
and a letter he wrote from a dry foundered boat

and the train tracks will take all the wounded ones home
and i'll be alone fair thee well sarah james

so we lie on the floor while the radio war
makes its way through the air on a dead market square

and the beast never seen licks its red talons clean
sarah curses the cold no more snow no more snow

--sam beam

transport motorways and tram lines starting and then stoping taking off and landing

im all the man i've ever been

and i will keep on till you agree to come back over
or until
there are x's on my eyes

but the main difference between me and you is that i'm not on fire

"If it weren't for electricity we'd all be watching television by candlelight." - George Gobel


that killed me.

I'll never go to North Dakota



create your own personalized map of the USA
or write about it on the open travel guide

the life and times of an overheated car

the first was a cop who walked from the truck weighing station. I was drifting off to those smooth npr voices. The knock on the window shakes me awake. he's kind of young and he doesn't know what to do. I explain the situation to him, I can tell he doesn't quite understand but after I'm done he says "well if thats it than alright." and he walked back to the weigh station. So i try to go back to sleep and I watch the temp gauge slowly work its way down. After about 20 mins. I'm off again I only last a mile till i'm in the red again. This ones a bit difficult. its on a bridge and it has a slight curve with it. I try to relax like before but a story i heard about some trucker that fell asleep and plowed into a family that had stopped on the shoulder comes back to me and I can only watch the rearview window. I don't wait as long this time and I don't go as far when it gets too hot again. This time I'm right in front of the mitsubishi exit. After a while a guy in a pick up truck stops and gets out. I feel bad cause it took him a while to stop and now he has to walk all this way in the cold. I meet him halfway. He's older than I though he was and he wants to look at the engine. I kind of tell him not to worry about it cause he's not gonna tell me something i don't know anyways. after a while he tells me things i already know and walks back to his car. The nice thing about this one is that the time went by quick and suddenly i'm off the exit and trying to make it over a hill without overheating. I put it in neutral and turn the car off completely. It feels like i'm sledding down a hill as I gain momentum. I love how quiet it is. I can hear rocks pop under the weight of my tires. The road is completely abandonded. after a while of drifting i eventually come to a stop. I had to fight the wheel to get over though. no power steering is great. noone comes to help this stop, but thats ok cause this american life just started and some girls talking about how her mom wouldn't let her go to Disneyland. Just the hotel next door. its really funny. The next stop a cop car pulls right behind me and puts on his lights. he makes people think He pulled me over. He runs my plates for a few minutes and then comes over to ask me what i'm doing with my car along side the road on Sunday morning. His arrogance kills me. I explain it to him but he's not interested. He asks for my license and proof of insurance and runs that too. finally after hes convinced i'm not a murderer he walks back and gives me my I.D. back. "By the way," he says, "You need to get the address changed on your license. Otherwise I could write you a $75 ticket. No big deal this time " He leaves and I watch his car turn into a white dot on the horizon. to protect and serve my butt. My next stop is tough because I no longer have a shoulder on College. I look for a side street and stop it in there. A white sedan follows me in. An elderly coulple on their way to Church. (I gave up on Church an hour ago) They want to give me a ride somewhere but i decline, only a couple more miles. Two more stops left but these are not as easy, the funny disneyland story is over and some guy talking about fasting is on. its painful to hear and hard to sympathize with self enforced torture. anyways my last stop is almost here I roll into the jr. high and look across the street. There is my apartment, only a few hundred feet away. My epic journey is almost over. the usual 38 min journey is almost at the 3 hour mark. the fasting guy is way too much of a whiner so i change stations for a while and settle with an Irish sounding preacher. hes good. finally my car is just cool enough to make the mad dash for home and my car and i roll into our spot and crash with exhaustion. we both win.

recommended mp3 - phantom planet - california

Dear God,

It's weird to think of all the things that have not been keeping up with the times.

Some folks think we're better now. Social evolutions will keep us on a straighter path, as better men use brand new math with no wrong answers.

To tell you the truth I'm just a little bit worried. Do you have some sort of plan? Have you been finally defeated by the cunning of these fully evolved men?

I hear that you don't change. How do you expect to keep up with the trends? You won't survive the information age unless you plan to change the truth to accommodate the brilliance of men...

Sincerely,
a concerned follower.

pedro the lion

one day i am gonna grow wings
chemical reaction
hysterical and useless

i think my favorite word in the english language is sycamore. its great.

One the way up the elevator to easter’s room, my eyes catch a brown stain on the floor. Its actually almost orange. Its like a huge tear drop stain, I try to imagine what caused the stain for a second and then tried to put out of my mind, bad idea. With the sights and smell of this place, its easy to gag. Clean thoughts. Clean thoughts. Look at the ascending numbers. I hate this place so much. I hate this stupid small smelly elevator, I hate the front desk lady with teeth too small and she never knows who I’m talking about. “Hmm. Are you sure that’s the correct name? Easter Soliday……Hmmm…...(long waiting – I wonder if she is even still looking….) Oh here you go; 8th floor, turn right, room 842. Have a nice day.” My eyes wander back to the stain. Has anyone even tried to clean it up? I bet its been there at least a week. It sicks me out, but I cant help but to stare at it. I was so mad when our mom put him in here. I felt like she was just giving him away to a crappy life. Funny thing is, after she put him here, she became a lot less satisfied with her own life. Nothing could make her happy after that. She had tons of time and spent all of it watching the home shopping network and complaining about the garbage men waking her up every Tuesday morning. Hauling away the crap she bought from the home shopping network - every Tuesday morning at seven. The elevator finally comes to a stop and the first thing I see as the door opens is an old man. He’s sitting right in front of the elevator his head cocked to one side; his lips have a blue tint to them. He eyes stare at me unblinking. I move out of his way but the eyes don’t follow. I wonder if he’s dead. Maybe someone was moving him and then forgot about him. Days ago. He has yellow bits of food or something on his chin. We stare at each other for a moment, and I move on. I hate this place.

recommended mp3 - flaming lips - fight test