Dream Diary

I dreamt I was riding a motorcycle around in Los Angeles. It was like a big Harley, but with a much bigger engine. Basically, it was all engine that dwarfed the tires. Kind of like the picture, which may have been the inspiration.

I rode the motorcycle to a garage sale, where I purchased a set of used, tri-focal wrap around UV protection sport sunglasses. They were very cool and I put them on and rode the motorcycle around some more.

It turned out that I had borrowed the motorcycle from a friend named Gayle. She's a really funny person and every time we see her there is something that we laugh about. I had filled the tank for her her, and tried to offer her some money for lending the bike to me, but she refused. So, I went to Costco and bought her some Prilosec. Don't know why, there was no discussion about heartburn or anything with her! I just thought it was a meaningful gift. What-ever!

Then, I was hanging out at a beach, I think it was Huntington Beach. Suddenly, the sky darkened and enormous lightning bolts crashed into the ocean. The crack of the thunder shook me to my core, my internal organs were all vibrating from the violent sound and made me nauseous.

Then gigantic somethings were falling into the ocean. I could not discern exactly what they were, perhaps hailstones or rocks as big as dump trucks like the picture. Again, whatever they were, were indecipherable to me. However, imagine if that truck fell from 500 feet into the ocean. Can you imagine the splash it would make? That's what it was like.

We all started screaming and running from the beach. There was a boardwalk, actually a paved bike/walking path that paralleled the shore. There were bunk beds, like camping cots only stacked 8 high. The people in the beds were being thrown out onto the ground.

As I ran, I began to see shiny objects on the ground. They were syringes, with big old honkin' needles. As I ran I tried to sidestep them.

And then I woke up.

Roll out the red carpet....

FLASH! Oh sorry, I...FLASH! FLASH! Darn paparazzi. Last fall I wrote here and here and here and here about my journey out of anonymity to superstardom. Alas, the road was hard with long hours, bad food and irritable art directors, set designers, focus puller, clapper loaders, key grips and best boys. At times my entourage was emotionally overwhelming.

Pardon me, I should not trouble you with the personal issues I face as a movie star. I shall not bloviate any longer and admit to you that yes - at long last I have seen my face in a movie. I saw the handsome, svelte young man that every girl swoons for and every guy is jealous of. Then, I saw myself next to him! Ha ha ha.



But seriously now - Into the Wild is out on DVD now, and you can see my mug on the big screen (or little screen if you're watching it on your iPod). I'm in the second scene (the college graduation). In the picture above which I snipped off of the web, you see the focus on William Hurt and Marcia Gay Harden. Look over Marcia's shoulder and there is a big guy with his hands together in mid-clap. Next to him is a woman with glasses. Next to her is something that looks like a coconut. That's my head.

In the movie, the camera pans and then zooms on to William Hurt and Marcia Gay Harden. You can see me clearly, I've got a white blazer on. Ooops, my cell phone is ringing....sorry, it's my agent - gotta run.

Autographs provided upon request.

It's a small world, after all....

When I was a kid at Disneyland, we were in the "Small World" ride when the soundtrack broke. All of the little mechanical puppets were squeaking, clanking and making robotic noises that were usually masked by the music. It was kind of a surreal experience.

Just like last Thursday evening at a wedding rehearsal. The bride introduced me to her father, and we had this odd, twilight zone thing going on. Finally he said "I know you from somewhere" and I agreed. We started going through the list - the gym, church, laundromat, favorite restaurant, college?!?

Finally he asked if I was a runner. Yep, I replied. He hit it - turns out we were on a Hood to Coast team we approximated at about 10-11 years ago! Hadn't see him since. But wait - it gets a little weirder. I love to read, and when I traveled heavily I would cart 2-3 big books around in my bag. One of my favorites was (is) a double volumn by Tom Wolfe that includes the Bonfire of the Vanities, and the Right Stuff.

For years, I have lugged that book around - from Minneapolis to the city of Mt. Shasta, from L.A. to Lahaina - I read it here there and everywhere. Why is this relevant? In that book - again for years now - I have a business card that I use as a bookmark. It was the team captain of our team that year.

Kind of weird. OK, maybe not so much. But it is a small world after all.

Highway Haiku

Starbucks here I come
Caffeine eases the commute
Traffic Jam? No prob!

Vrooom! We go faster!
Few cars in front today - yay!
Home - won't be long now

Books - here there and everywhere

Isn't this just the coolest thing you have ever seen?

Look very carefully at the picture. It's kind of dizzying but what you are seeing is a staircase leading to a door at the bottom. The owners of this apartment had a problem, similar to what I and every bibliophile face.

Books. Lots of books. Lots and lots and lots of books. Drives my wife cRaZy. I could be stranded in a desert dying of thirst, and drag my dehydrated carcass to a roadside lemonade stand...and ask if they have any bestsellers.

Well, the owners of this apartment had a novel (ha ha pun intended) way to resolve their issue. They designed in a hidden and seldom used back stairwell to an upper loft, a means of arranging for their treasures to remain neatly organized.

Sherry won't make our bed anymore. It's not her fault, she's by no means lazy. I have so many books and magazines piled up on my side of the bed it is a slippery slope that more than once has caused her to stumble. I now make the bed. And I slip and stumble.

I love it. Sherry hates it. I tell her it would be a great way to open up a new....wait for it....CHAPTER in our lives! Get it? Ha ha ha I crack myself up.

Motorcycle Memories

I had come across the picture below some time ago and filed it away. Recently on Wayne's blog he posted an entry about his affection for motorcycles (I had forgotten about that Wayne). Take a close look at his former commuter bike. I think it's a Kawasaki, and I'm going to guess that is a late 70's or early 80's bike.

My bike was a Yamaha Enduro, one of the very first off-road models that spawned the dirt bike era. Older than Wayne's bike, it was probably a 1971 or 72 model. Although the bike in this picture is a 250, my bike was an odd (by today's standards) 175 cubic centimeters.

How I loved that motorcycle!

It looked exactly like the picture above. It is amazing how seeing the picture aroused 30 year old memories in a tactile way. I can feel the compression as I kick start it, I can remember how the pad was so worn that I tore it off and had to be careful not to let me foot slip off.

Look at that travel on the rear shocks! I remember one day taking the seat off and going for a ride to 'force' the skills of riding standing up on the pegs. I remember how my butt hurt when I was slammed down into the frame sans seat. Ah, the foolishness of youth.

I remember riding along and seeing two girls. Wanting to impress them I sailed off a fairly large jump, attempted to do a table top cross up before 'table top' was even vogue, and crashed miserable in front of them. Thankfully, only my ego was seriously busted up.

I remember taking off the exhaust pipe heat shield, thinking it looked dorky. I remember putting the exhaust pipe heat shield back on when it burned my leg.

I remember tinkering with the Mikuni carburetor. I remember spending a lot of tinkering trying to get it running right again.

I remember many times of stalling the engine riding through mud and water, and taking off the magneto cover and drying out the points. I remember being stuck in mud, using a stick and leaves to poke out the accumulation of mud in the rear tire and wiping the chain, and watching my mom drive up on the adjacent road, look at me...and keep on driving!

I remember learning how to pop a wheelie, then ride a wheelie. I was actually good at wheelies.

I remember showing off for some friends, pulling a textbook berm shot, and then crashing into the rear wall of John's market (Lakehead, CA). I remember having to pay John back for the hole I put in his wall. I also remember having to pay to have the forks straightened with a hydraulic press.

How I loved that motorcycle!