Truck Burst Into Flames

When my friend and I were strolling around in Arcata we noticed a truck with smoke spilling out of it's windows. When we got closer we could smell a rancid stench and realized that something was on fire inside of the cab. We told some people about it and they phoned for help but by the time they got there it was too late. Some poor mans ford ranger was left in ruins but luckily I managed to capture it on film.

Adventure to San Fran

Dear Readers,

My trip to Cali has been great so far. We stopped in Arcata to search for adventure last friday night and after wandering the town we ended up in the town square. The entire town is pretty much built around this square which we discovered is the heart of the night life around this area. We stopped to sit on a concrete flower bed and were confronted by a girl whom we found out was from Nebraska. She told us that she had been travelling with a group whom she was waiting for and wanted to introduce us when she found out that we were also travellers. When her gang finally showed up they had a grocery bag packed with random food and they started making sandwiches with the random things they bought and shared generously with others around the square. We found out that two of her friends came from Maine on a Uhaul packed with people, a couple of them were from the bay area in San Francisco, and there were a few others that came from other places around America. While chatting with the group a woman carrying an infant walked by and introduced herself. When she found out we were Canadians she told us about a time when she snuck over the Canadian border without a passport to partake in a protest that took place in Quebec.

Later on during the week we stopped in Eureka with our instruments to jam on the pier and while we were playing we ran into the same girl who introduced us but she was with two other guys from Maine. We stopped to chat and they took part in a jam with us and told us some of their crazy adventures. They rented a uhaul with a fake name for a day and ended up using it for a week while they drove across the country to California. None of them had any money so they had to panhandle for cash to fuel their vehicle to keep going. They have been living homeless in California for weeks hoping to create new lives for themselves, find jobs, and become permanent residents but their current lives don't seem easy. We took them to Denny's and Joash bought them some food in an attempt to ease the discomfort of homelessness.

It is now friday and we are planning on making our way to San Francisco. Our trip was almost cancelled when my truck started to act up but I took it into a shop this morning and got it fixed for $130. It felt like a transmission or clutch problem which would have been expensive but luckily it was only a u-joint. That money set us back a bit but we are planning to make up for it by spending tonight in the back of my truck. Tomorrow morning we will be leaving my truck parked and travelling on bike to see the sights of the city. I will keep you updated on the events of our travels.

Midnight Jam in Eureka

A couple nights ago during our adventures in California Joash and I decided to take a stroll through Eureka. We took this bridge to an island that was basically a parking lot with boat docks all around it. Along the pathway was a bench facing a large statue of a fisherman where we decided to stop and take out our instruments for an end of the night jam. No one was there but we made some tunes anyway and created a piece on the spot which we managed to capture on film. These midnight jams have become routine and in the near future we are hoping to piece together a song to do at an open jam night somewhere.

Road Trippin'

I am currently in California with my friend Joash. We drove from Red Deer, Alberta and along the way we have been collecting film which we are putting together. Here is the first cut of the adventures so check it out.

Vibes

Everyone has a story. It may not be structured, laid out, or even brought to the consciousness of anyone else, but it essentially existent within the mind that possesses it. The houses lining the bottom of the street beneath my apartment window all have their own story; separate from my own and ones I’ll never know. I’m free to guess based on the actors that submerge from the house, but the chances of accuracy are doubtful. I make inferences and judgments on people based on the vibes that they give me. “Vibes” is the word I use for that unexplainable flood of emotions that seems to present us with the aura of a person. I’m sure it can be reasoned in more scientific terms but the spiritual idea seems so much more exciting. I could say that unconsciously by picking up on the body language of others emotions are created based on what we perceive them to be, such as distaste towards someone you think is being deceitful. It makes more sense explained that way but the idea of vibes makes it seem as if we can accurately read people based on feelings, almost a gift from an unknown essence.

The Chances?

The owner didn’t even live in the country. The club was his investment or some bullshit. I’ve only ever seen him once and I didn’t know I was talking to him until after.

It was a dare. We were racing the golf carts through the course. We had a set rout down hole five, four, we cut back through hole 8 and across what we called the suicide plank. We did this race weekly. The entire rout is the roughest terrain to stretch over that land. We came close so many times of flipping and hitting each other. It could have been so bad. The best part was that it was all down hill from where we started so the golf carts go five times faster than normal and the bridge at the bottom was only wide enough for one cart. On one race it was so close against Colby and I. He managed to win every time and it was my chance. I was getting that paralyzing feeling you get when you are on a roller coaster. The bumps were making me nearly bounce out of my seat and I was terrified that if I let go I’d slide sideways and start flipping. I could have died for sure. We were so close I knew that he would shove me for the opening in-between the railings so I panicked and turned away from the bridge. I had no idea what I was doing. It was straight communication between adrenaline and my body.

I drove straight into the pond and sunk the cart beyond sight, or so I thought. The wind had made the water murky that day.

Some golfers were cruising towards us so I jumped on Zach’s cart to flee the scene but before we could make it anywhere one of them waved us down. My heart was pounding with fear that he witnessed what had happened. When we made it to him he just small talked a bunch of useless words. I could barely follow anything he was saying and before any of us had a chance to speak he would cut us off. I got so frustrated I just went and sat in the passenger seat of Zach’s cart while they continued talking for a bit.

When Zach hopped back in the cart he asked me, “Do you know who that was?”

“Nope.”

“That’s the owner of this golf course.”

A Trip Through Memory Lane

This here is a continuation of my last two posts. The antagonist of the plot has drifted into past memories that he attempts to share with the reader.

I guess kid is what I should say. I have a son named Sullivan and he is the only blood in my family to remain. I love his so much but because of his mother I never get to see him. It took three years and childbirth for her to decide that she didn’t want to be with me anymore. But she did think she deserved a fair share of the money I was making. She took me to court trying to take me for everything but she didn’t get anything. Well except what mattered to me the most – Sullivan.

I worried so much about keeping all my money that I let the most important argument go unrehearsed or un-thought out. When I realized what I was losing everything seemed to be sinking around me. My heart was heavy with sorrow and when I had to tell him I was leaving the look on his face made me burst out in tears. He asked, “Why daddy? Why do you have to go? I promise I’ll be better. I won’t do anything bad ever again. I promise. Please daddy?”

All I could do was reply, “I’m sorry son. It’s not your fault. It’s because your mother and I are not happy together. Don’t ever think that this is because of you.” I reassured him of that and made sure that he knew it. “We will still see each other on weekends,” I promised, “We will still get to see each other. I just won’t be living here with Mommy anymore.”

“Promise?” he asked, tears drowning his vision.

I replied, “I promise,” and as I started walking away I could feel a cold stare from the open window where she watched me lose everything.

It’s hard to believe the situations we find ourselves in. And it’s all because of chance. Those insignificant little glimpses of a moment shifting the pathways we are forced to take for the rest of our lives. It’s weird to imagine how life could have been so different if I would have not left home in search of my utopia.

It was a scary experience to leave for the first time. I don’t remember why but I really loved the idea of California. I hated the whole Hollywood gimmick and big city lifestyle, but I did like the ocean. I made a decision based entirely on google searches of cool places. I wasn’t able to sufficiently decide where I wanted to go before I left but I had my parents convinced otherwise. They were overwhelmed with my decision. I told them I wanted to live in another country one time during supper when I decided to try and explain what I had planned for when school was finished. Of course I didn’t think about the issue of money. I hated where I lived. The things I loved the most were done in the hot weather. I always loved summer the most, especially the hot streaks, which in truth were too easily bearable. I look forward to the heat and every year I wait for it, but I never feel like it has truly arrived. California was hot, at least compared to my standards and that’s what I wanted. I didn’t care what I was going to do once I got there but things came up that prevented my mission from happening. I worked as a plumber for eight months of my life. The first month was spent being sent to jobs as a slave for the journeyman plumber. Some of them were chill but there were some real pricks in the industry. After about a month my boss found me someone to work with full time. His name was Eric. He was one of those jacked up roid junkie type characters. The boss loved him because he seemed invincible. He could pick up triple the weight of construction supplies than any other plumber and he tried as often as he could to show off his strength. His veins looked as if they were going to pop and compared to me, he was a giant.

He loved to start fights and lipped off anyone who came onto our job site. I looked away ashamed that he had to be my partner. We, the plumbers were always the most hated people on the job. People got pissed off and gossiped garbage about us to one-another but he could never make them want to physically fight. He was a complete lunatic which scared me at first but I was never once touched, threatened, disrespected, talked down to, or anything like that from him, ever. He usually caused the shit that caused people to lash back at us, but if someone even looked at me the wrong way he would threaten their lives. I was just over five feet, one hundred thirty pounds of solid nothing at twenty years old. Being compared to Eric I looked like a young child. He had to have been at least six or seven feet. He hovered over me with enormous mass and according to what he commonly told me, he weighed close to three hundred fifty pounds. I worked with him for seven months of rough labor getting paid maybe a third of what he was and trying to save as much of it as I could. After I paid my bills I was always set back close to where I started. It was an endless cycle working for what I felt was nothing. I hated my life, my job, where I was going, the lack of opportunities, so I quit.