
ginger rogers

guinevere

marie antoinette and some guy dressed up like a russian

hurley day 4, with hurley day 815

i am lost until february





i am lost until february
behind you- off to the right-hand side, eating some pancakes with strawberries and a dog poo clump of whip cream, can join your conversating with nobody saying or thinking nothing out of the ordinary. and so it was. me and my sister were in the ihop, and we were discussing the sad case of wilbert rideau, who life magazine once called the most reformed man in prison. its a case of a 19 yr-old black man killing a white woman in 1961 and getting sent to death row by an all-white jury, although the murder was not premeditated. (see his website here - and the story of his eventual release. wikipedia also has an interesting summary.) 
s ring looks on your pinky finger. if you tried all that in seattle you might get hit upside the head with a can of postum.
'pray-lines')
kone brought this massive red drum for us to eat. he caught it off the coast of florida proving that he is a very capable fisherman. (the fish fought old-man-and-the-sea-style). this is right before the big fish lost its head, so kone's smile looks somewhat maniacal, don't you think? he also brought a cooler full of other fish (that he, his wife, and kids all caught). we were generous in sharing the joy of freshly dead fish with friends.
lv new orleans 300pm - flt 2350
xiengkone vongkoth
the state capitol- built by huey p. long; the tallest state capitol in the nation. huey p. long was gunned down in the back hallway, and he died 2 days later. the bullet holes are still there in the marble walls. huey long was then buried on the capitol's front lawn.
mississippi river bridge. that little dark mark is huck finn swimming. huey p. long built this bridge. he was a great man. everyone (except dr. weiss who shot him) loved him dearly. as he said, "every man a king" and "a chicken in every pot."
the uss kidd parked on the mississippi river. my brother used to work here a long time ago. for more info see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Kidd_(DD-661)
kone is panhandling here... relaxed style.

the levee - (they gotta put baton rouge on there in case people get confused and think they're already at st. louis)
an oak tree... this is right next to the old state capitol...
we took a quick trip down to new orleans. it is still kinda a mess down there, but that's okay, cause kone came on this little trip prepared.

me by a window in the old state legislature room. kinda dark... shoulda used a flash...



louisiana rains comes down hard and fast (these pictures it aint so bad; sometimes you wouldn't be able to see cross the street- and cars on the freeway hafta pull over to the shoulder so they won't crash and die.) and the rain here has sound too (thunder and lightening - and sometimes it knocks the power out so you get to light the kerosene lanterns and walk around in the dark thinking maybe there's ghosts in the closets) and wind blowing (woosh! woosh!) and the clouds are all these colors of gray (not just that same ol' dirty bath water gray you get in seattle). yeah, seattle doesn't rain. or whatever it does do aint nothing like rain... it's more like a water torture or something.
also, "the heartless stone: a journey through the world of diamonds, deceit and desire." a good read - although i shouldn't read this cause i am already anti-diamond; it's like strauss said, you should never encourage the brass section or you won't be able to hear your cell phone, or whatever that quotation is... i never know exactly when it comes to quotations... i get confused... spring back, fall forward kinda thing.
yall should come check us out down here. unlike the rest the country, i just ate red beans and rice, boudin balls, hush puppies, and jalapenios stuffed with crab meat for supper. yall aint never seen that before.
i did not like "the kite runner." i like that theme for a novel, but due to the sophomoric writing (think work and the glory, namesake) and the heavy-handed sensationalism, i can't encourage anyone to jump on the proverbial bus and be taken for a ride. (and hassan? the afghan haley mills; he's so unbelievably good, i am led to ask ridiculous questions- like: is the author christian?)
about this author - he was a victim of our war on terror. he was supposed to speak in seattle and was detained at the border- missed his appointment completely. this led him to quip, "homeland security is making america safe from british novelists." anyway - one of my favorite books of all time.
anne tyler's "saint maybe." my favorite author. this woman can write a story. (and she has never resulted to sensationalism either. her stories could really happen.) but check this book out. it is one of her most moving - and the characters are instantly likeable. i have read all of her novels except her latest and "searching for caleb." i don't know why i've never read that book. it sits on my shelf, waiting... and waiting... and waiting...
i got this book for my trip to Laos. i like to read books or novels set in the country i am visiting, and this one changed the way i look at Lao cuisine, causing me to appreciate Lao food even more, (if that's even possible). after reading her romanticizations of Lao food and her descriptions of the many outdoor markets, i went back to Lao cuisine with a new energy, eating my grocery list of favorite foods, hunting down new flavors, and actively smelling vegetables and leaves in markets that i have only casually looked at before. i asked the women at the stalls what different greens were used for, and i acquainted myself with vegetables that i've heard about for years, but never knew exactly what they were. but then i lost the book when i was about a week from coming home.
so i probably flew in my dream just to prove her wrong.) the lake was long and deep, and it was filled with all kinds of fish, all unique to Laos. then i found myself in some sort of grotto where i was talking to someone - i can't remember who. but i was amazed at the many fish circling around me, and i felt excited at the prospect of eating fresh fish - kinds that i had never tasted. then (here comes the scary part) right in front of me, there arose a big clump of pad thai noodles, and it was alive. i never knew that pad thai noodles were actually a fish! but there they were, right in front of me, turning and wriggling towards me. then somehow the glop of noodles latched onto my chest, and one of the noodle strands, presumably the head of the creature, rose up and looked me in the face, wriggling around like a long finger. i woke up then. (but not scared or with my heart pumping or my head buzzing from the night-time adrenaline rush)and with this little picture right after it:
but don't get me wrong. seattle aint Louisiana. (i don't like seattle as much as i like home.) and seattle aint Laos either. (the padek in Laos is a lot better than what you get in the stores here.) anyway, seattle was giving us good weather for walking, and the best place for walking is green lake, and so we began our little trek around the lake. well, we hadn't gone but maybe 3 minutes when we noticed this crow on the side of the path. i don't like crows, but this one was kinda interesting cause it had its head down inside a plastic grocery bag. i thought the crow was trying to get at some of the food in there, but on closer inspection - its head was stuck. crows are not dumb birds,
(just noisy and dirty) and this one apparently had gotten a bag of garbage out of the garbage can (the kind with the push-open lid). well, in the process, the crow had gotten its head stuck in the handle of the plastic bag. i kinda laughed at the whole thing, (i mean, it looked kinda funny, and plus, i don't like crows) but when we got a little closer, the crow flew off over the lake with the bag still twisted around its head and then came back, landing close to the path; so, i guess i started to get a little more concerned about the crow at that point. well, maybe not just then; i think i laughed some more at the crow as it tried to fly off a another 2 or 3 times. it did look kinda funny - flying off over the lake with a QFC plastic bag of garbage hanging on its neck. looked like edgar allen poe's version of the stork or something. sarah and i had this moment of indecision - should we keep walking, or should we stop and help. (actually, i don't think i was planning on helping; i think i just wanted to laugh at the crow a little longer while it tried to get its head outa that bag handle.) but when you stop to watch something, a crowd will gather... and that's
what happened. a couple of other people stopped - and an elderly man came up to us and said he'd been watching the crow from the front seat of his car for some time. well, we all know what happened to kitty genovese, and i thought about that, so at sarah's prompting, i stepped into action. (and for those who don't know about kitty:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitty_Genovese ).
leaving sarah in the company of the elderly man, i joined forces with a woman in a purple jump suit, and we stalked the crow through the parking lot, across the street and into a small grassy area (where the infamous feral rabbits of woodland park can be found grazing right before they run out into the street and get squished by passing cars... for more info on this: http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/262159_rabbits08.html )
me and purple jumpsuit lady had minimal success. i removed my black fleece jacket and tried to throw it over the crow (at sarah's suggestion), but it didn't work; my jacket caught some wind and came falling back at my feet. by this time, the crow flew back across the street, spilling some of the garbage out of its bag. the crow tried to fly into a tree, but it was clearly tiring, so it made an emergency landing by the sidewalk where another man and his wife had joined our crow rescue team. this man was armed with woolly blanket and a pretty good sense of stealth. as i approached from the back, he came at the crow's front, and it gently succumed to the blackness of my fleece jacket. however, by this time we hadn't only collected a crowd of onlookers, but a large number of crows were over our heads squawking and making a racket, what crows do best.
we worked quickly to free the crow; the stealth man and jumpsuit woman held the crow as i pulled back the jacket - and sarah appeared outa nowhere with a big pair of scissors (the elderly man had them in his car; do people normally carry scissors around in their cars?) so i used them to cut through the plastic handle, (it was up under the crow's feathers, and it would've been hard to remove without scissors,) and crow flew off to join his friends.
i left the crowd after a group hug and rejoined sarah and the elderly man. i was feeling kinda good about the deed we'd done, and i even felt a little better about myself. (and although i don't like crows, i liked them a little more after saving one from grocery bag death).
well, on saturday, sarah was nice enough to let me borrow her car while mine was in the shop, and so she and i were together again... this time we came across a homeless woman. i had already
had words with this woman an hour before; after coming across the street from the mechanic shop, i came face to face with her - and she looked me in the eyes and yelled, "YOU MURDERED HER!" i kinda laughed (what is up with me laughing at people in distress?) but her accusation was kinda out there, and well... i laughed... and half-mumbled something to her about her medications. she didn't seem aware that i'd said anything and pronounced (even more emphatically) "YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO KILL HER 5 TIMES!"
so when sarah showed up, i was already feeling kinda concerned about the whole thing. the woman stared at us on the sidewalk, hurled some accusations with a wave of her hand, and then sped off down the street and around the corner. i didn't know what to do. and even though i stood there and watched, a crowd wasn't gathering to motivate me to action. was she really homeless? was she where she shouldn't have been? is this is everyday for her, or she is in danger?
man... crows are easier: bag's on its head; get it off. a mentally ill homeless woman is a harder call... and supposedly i am the mental health clinician, but i was at a loss as to whether i should let it go, or call the police.
i let it go. and i even let it go when i saw her again at 9 pm that night, scurrying down my street towards the baseball field. i jogged in her direction for a bit, just to see where she was headed... but finally, i stopped, feeling a little heavy of heart.
i watched her for a moment longer as she walked further into the dark, then i turned around towards my apartment, and slid my cell phone back into my pocket.
ter," just south of the capital, Vientiane, is a case in point.