going coastal

i’m in morro bay, where dave and melissa used to live. (i don’t think i knew it existed before the time i came to see them (for about an hour) on that road trip five years ago. i can’t remember thinking about it. Still, my knowledge of California had to do with LA or San Francisco, and of those I only knew San Francisco. I never did anything but UCLA when i was in LA. i certainly don’t know a thing about San Jose.  that california road trip a few years ago was the first time i had bothered to drive through redwoods or go to big sir.)

they didn’t love it here. i recall melissa saying they were planning to leave–she thought it shouldn’t be weird that she was a lawyer or that dave speaks six languages–i wonder if it is that provincial. it’s really pretty here.

the coffeeshop where i’m writing seems pretty rad. Top Dog coffee shop.  It’s got typical california old school coffee vibes.  Aha on the radio, chalkboard menu sign. wooden tables–that are made, not recycled–only a little aluminum siding. but bagels, garden with flowers, they serve beer at night. or all the time. they serve beer all the time and some of that beer is pacifico.

i wonder if it’s a republican place? i don’t know anything about any of these towns from ventura all the way to Monterey.

i told philip i would come see him in temescal, but i think i’m going to  head north and stick to the coast and then go to the river for ani’s birthday.  i wonder if there is any place really cheap to stay.  i just found a very unsophisticated map with campsites on it. a little useful. funny how i get less bold about where i sleep now that i’m closer to home.

definitely having a free place too sleep has to be part of my decision making for the next month.  but i also have to get on selling stuff. i’m setting up my BigCartel site right now. i’m not sure if it makes any difference. certainly i have to get on selling stuff. there is plenty of it to sell in Rog.

yesterday invovled some semi radness. i know louise has mentioned the Madonna Inn, but i had NO idea. really none. it’s amazing. full of pink booths and a steak house and a ballroom with people of all ages dancing. i couldn’t tell if these were students from Cal Poly or what, but there was dancing and pink and flowers and family photos.

totally rad.

i also had a sad interaction at the Kon Tiki motel in Pismo Beach, which was less Tiki and more dumb than could be hoped. Oh well. another day another Tiki mission.







solvang? aren’t there some dutch people clogging around here somewhere

i’m in a starbucks in Solvang. i feel like we were supposed to come here with the Fam when i was a child but didn’t for whatever reason. i kind can’t wait to get out of the starbucks and see if  it’s awesome in a tacky way. i love tourist traps.

meanwhile there is a fat guy in one of those tshirts with kinda fake tattoo ornamental baroque silk screen that make everyone look like they’ve just walked into wet paint who has taken 20 minutes to take everything out of his bag–a ziplock of change that he had to count to pay for his Iced tea– a mouse, a charger for his phone AND for his gigantic laptop and gigantic mouse. he also has that giant iphone. maybe it’s a 7 or an 8 or an X or whatever. maybe it’s just a ipad.  it’s a lot.  totally harshing the starbucks mello. then again, i’ve never worked in a starbucks and not had my mello harshed. now he’s moving. oh well. no more new neighbor.

i wonder if i’ve counted this town short. maybe there’s a really good coffee shop. there’s a java the hut, but they rarely have good coffee.

got a bunch of audio book cassettes at the granny thrift store for cheap.  so that’s something.


after Ojai, with nowhere to go, waking up at the beach seemed like the right idea.

so i drove out of Ojai and was going to go where Shan & the fam had stayed with their new airsteam, but it was getting dark and D-neg had said “NO SERVICES”

chicken pot

there…i don’t know if he had been joking, but i was afraid i wouldn’t be able to buy and camping wood or any of that stuff, so i headed back south to Refugio Beach.  i parked on a space across from the ocean and then drove back to the Albertson’s where UCSC shops and got supplies.



it’s the first real car-camping i’ve done on this trip. had to make a fire and then use that cast iron to make a chicken, onions, and potatoes in a pot dinner.  delicious.

weird there. couldn’t hear anyone. wonder if no one was talking (other than the baby in the camper next to me) or if voices don’t carry.  also weird sleeping where

sunrisei can see the ocean AND the 101.

i woke up at 3 am because the wind had blown the cape off of the tent. i could see the stars, so i looked at Orion and Leo and Virgo and Hydra and the Big Dipper for a while. when i next awakened it was raining, so i put the cap back on. but that didn’t last–the wind blew so hard in the morning that the only thing keeping it from not flying away was my body, so i jammed the whole thing only half undone into the front seat and climbed into Rog.


Now that i have the back door open–thanks to Nacho and Bill–i can move all the Tiki Pop Up stuff around.

running with birds

I don’t know where i’m going tonight, but i feel like i need to spend some time getting my tiki pop up store going.    I have to make some money.


i have a lot of options right now. cat sitting in chicago (i like chicago). dogsitting mid month through christmas upstate NY, catsitting in red hook.  a pad in LA. Crashing however long i want in New Orleans. staying in Temescal Canyon. I think I’m going to try to do all of them.

but i have to work on my store.  Like now. Like how?


http://hplfilmfestival.com/FullSizeRender 2

so i got all obsessed with the horror at red hook this spring and kept on relistening to the audible.com version of it. (https://www.audible.com/pd/Classics/The-Horror-at-Red-Hook-Audiobook/B00BFW8QOE/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srTtl?qid=1507572384&sr=1-1) it’s read really well. i’m not a lovecraft nerd, but i think the reader must be someone lovecrafty because of the stuff i heard yesterday–but maybe there is a lovecraftian voice.

anyway i started working on that horror at red hook screenplay because it felt right to really explore the innate racism in america by looking at a cult story by a cult white guy that white guys with beards that don’t do sports get into,  but i got distracted by my I Scream for Ice Cream screenplay.

Still,  i had wanted to go to a lovecraft film festival, and low and behold, in the portland free papers was a lovecraft film festival. so i went.

i was clearly out of my league for cthulhu lovers.  there were a lot of tentacles. i’m not sure how seriously everyone took it.

i saw some shorts. some of them were good.



and like everything else i have done this week, i pretty much ghosted.   i did talk to some lovecrafters. i’m going to listen to these (very expensive) radio dramas.


i did have a hangover from all of that sports watching on saturday.

Children of the Corn is way too fucking scary to watch when one lives by oneself and is going to drive around america alone. NOPE.

walked out of that.

the distant sea

The Distant Sea 2 HIRES


this one was good. about a researcher and some creepy kids like in Heavenly Creatures. Not fully realized, but good. Creepy. Not obvious or just grody like a lot of the other ones.

The Ningyo Ep 1


basically a rip off of every adventure movie–think a lot of speilburg, particularly Raiders, some gremlins, throw in a little Star Wars. Still, fun and well produced. too bad it’s not a TV show. I’d watch it.



“Howard Lovecraft and the Undersea Kingdom”

Howard and Spothttp://hplfilmfestival.com/hplfilmfestival-portland-or/films#3278  was a kind of simple animation film that was truly for lovecraft lovers. in it Cthulhu isn’t the destroyer of worlds, but a buddy and a helper who goes by Spot to a sweet little sunken eyed kid called Howard.  it’s kind  of a candy coated let’s take the horror out of horror films, like when vampires are made into good guys. it had it’s cute buddy picture parts, but went deep into exposition of lovecraft story instead of action. boring. did have great sort of scrubbing bubble tentacle guys who just spoke about spaghetti.


people talked by name: no one. not a one


Hollywood theater https://hollywoodtheatre.org/

vintage store pretty good. Ray’s Ragtime Hollywood

sam’s billards.  took 1 hour for jalapeno poppers and a salad, but they were nice and bought it for me. http://portlandpoolhall.com/

vintage store.  meh.



Books are not magic

Books are Magic
Smith Street, Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn

May 11, 2017


Let’s start with this: BOOKS ARE NOT MAGIC.


The dumbest name for a bookstore ever.  Sounds like it’s coming from the condescending idiot who works in a bookstore/library/own head that thinks that reading/writing books makes a person somehow better than…who the fuck knows what.


First of all, books are not magic. Magic is fucking magic. Turning straw into gold (Rumpelstiltskin, Bros. Grimm) is magic, like arriving in a shower of gold to rape Danae (Mythology, Hamilton,) or walking through fire with baby dragons (Game of Thrones, Martin), or even giving birth to the son of god while being a virgin (New Testament, Some Old White Jewish Men,) are also magic, and yes found in books, but MAGIC is not real. That’s why it’s fucking magic, and big deal on things like Buffy the Vampire Slayer (see: Amy and her life as a rat.) and when David Blane stands up on a pillar in front of Central Park (see early Aughts, New York Times), but not books.


Books are words (and images) on paper.

Nothing fucking magic about that at all.


Ideas can do things to minds and inspire and incite all sorts of things. See the above mentioned “New Testament” and think all the disasters “magic” it has done for the world. (See: president trump, the Crusades, ISIS (the terrorist group, not the Egyptian goddess), and Notre Dame (Paris, France.)


But just saying “books are magic” is imbecilic.


That aside, I know some of my fury at that bookstore comes entirely from it not being BookCourt. And my anger at them just closing BookCourt, which was the best bookstore in New York city and maybe the best bookstore on this coast, (in CA Bookstore Santa Cruz probably wins, though Elliot Bay is a pretty good ducking bookstore.) instead of selling it to someone or something. Who knows what happened. I wasn’t privy to it, just collateral damage.  Perhaps Emma Straub (writer of the book the Vacationeers, which I found on the street and still haven’t read, blame it on the cutesy cover, the first page seemed like it was good, and whatever that one is about living in Ditmas, which might be that one and the one I found on the street might be a different one, which I checked out from the library and seems like it’s good, too.) knew beforehand that BookCourt was closing (probably, no one would have bothered to try to compete with that bookstore,) and htat’s why she opened up, and it does look like if she didn’t buy BookCourt’s shelves, she certainly had the same carpenter build hers, to fill the void. But stop it with the condescending name.


Don’t know when they opened, maybe a few weeks? The shelves are not full, and the shelves are curated only with “literary” fiction, which means Brooklyn writers, even if they’re dumb, but not mass market even if it’s good, and apparently they’ve gotten all the Brooklyn writers (read: half of all fiction writers in America) to come by and sign some of their books, but then they had to brand all the books by putting tacky stickers that say “Signed book at Books Are Magic.” Ug.


I was still going to buy a book because I wanted to be a supporter, even though Straub (who was in the store and much taller than expected and apparently not a fan of classic rock and made the cute young girl manning the register nervous by pointing it out.  BTW, it was Joe Walsh singing about his Maserati, which might be overplayed, but is still a great song, (Eagles haters can stfu because I’ll never believe that was your own opinion and you didn’t get it from the Dude.) talked to a group of four year olds like they were idiots and not just little, but the husband, showing off for the aforementioned shop clerk, told a story about some writer having signed a book and some customer being impressed that he knew the writer. He said this to show of to shopgirl (his voice had bad actor in it) and maybe to whomever else was in the store. But come on. We live in New York City. Every other person here is famous, and the ones who aren’t are fuckign recreating sustainable farming or programming the backbones of major software development.


Don’t be condescending.


  1. I think maybe I’m being a bitch and maybe they’re just book nerds who are uncomfortable with people.
    But still.
    Don’t be condescending.