Tales of the American Jet-set

Last week at a job in NJ outside of Newark, I saw a first; a gun casing on the sidewalk outside the library. Given, it was merely a small, 22 caliber shell, but still...

I picked it up, and for a moment, pondered the thoughts going through the shooter's head as he/she stood there, outside a library, feeling the need to pull the trigger. I then realized my fingerprint was now on it and discarded it, quickly figuring my alibi. It was a little much to deal with at 8am.

I don't usually give recommendations for eat/drink places throughout the world, unless I'm asked, but I have to give a shout out to the Sapa Mist cocktail and pho at Chau Kitchen and Bar Vietnamese restaurant. One of my best meals ever! Afterwards, I walked by a little dive bar partially underground. I suddenly had an awful headache exasperated while walking uphill, but ducked in anyway. The bartender said hello, so I felt obligated to get a quick drink. However, in less than an hour, the regulars there had become best friends, making me promise I'd stop in the next time I was in town. So another shout out to the gang over at the Bunker at the Barclays bar Both are on Robson Street in Vancouver.

Nothing against Cleveland, but this horrible nordic wasteland has not stopped snowing in 5 days. Yesterday, I had a "free" day and went to the Cleveland Museum of Art. It began well as I found a 10-dollar bill in the parking lot, then discovered that the museum itself was free to visit. I spent the next three hours viewing the Classical, and medieval art, which included a rather large array of 16-18th century swords, guns, and armor. I looked down the barrel of Napoleon's shotgun.

In my hasty leave of the museum, I realized it contained a considerable amount of Modern and Contemporary Art, which I prefer, but hadn't the time to spend time with. One thing I noticed with the Classical art is that portraits of both men and women in their 30s, they appeared closer to their 50s. Did they just lead harder lives or has my non-lead-based mosturizer done the trick?

I just got back from the opera. It was about the sixth one I have seen, and second time seeing Madame Butterfly, so I already knew the story. However, if you read the program ahead of time, you would know the ending as well. I had a strange epiphany tonight. I realized that about midway through the second acts, my creative subconscious tends to get inspired, and I become overwhelmed with...jokes...of the stand-up variety, as well as sketch comedy. Tonight, I became inwardly fixated with the idea of John Wilkes Booth shooting Lincoln simply because the President, sitting in front of Booth and his date, refused to removed his hat, which turned into an argument and the ensuing "assassination."

People in Arkansas have always been very open and friendly, especially in Little Rock. I remember the first time here, a young hipster barista said to me, "you look like Morrissey." Before I could respond, she added, "I LOVE Morrissey." At that point I could only muster a quiet thank you and left.

One thing I have always wanted to do, is dig for diamonds in the only publicly-open (in the world) park for diamond mining in Murfreesboro, AR. I think I'll plan a trip for later in the Spring.

Further and I further I go, decending horizonatally into the brush. Under the trees. Sunlight is directed in intermittant ribbons onto the forest floor, yet I remain obscured. This was all purely unintentional on my part. I want to be seen, to be known, but unfortunately, through current events and the erosion time brings upon us, I hide, or at least attempt to remain hidden for the duration of this sudden spell of illusion, or is it allusion? I can't decide which, since I don't know if I was brought here by hallucination or metaphor.

Worked at a University today for military personel in Bethesda, MD. I felt out of place in my "civilian" clothes as everyone else wore combat fatigues based upon their respective branch of the military. It was like a huge open call for the Villiage People, seeing all the sailors and soldiers. I did the previous job there 3 years ago, but this time wasn't hassled as much by the guards. Apparently, the difference between "Mike" and "Michael" on paperwork was enough to cause alarm. I got out of there by 11am and had very good Indian food. I didn't realize it was close to DC and looked up my old friend Eric, but discovered he had moved to Bangkok, Thailand with his family. It's cold out, staying in another night.