25 November, 2005
revolution rock

a bellyfull of turkey, and a head dulled by tryptophan may not be the best combination for hiking fuel.

not that i let that stop me. turning my SteveMcQueen jacket inside out, exposing the blaze orange liner/hunter repellent, i started the climb upward... only minimally flailed by blackberry vine concertina wire. scuffing my boots in fallen leaves to discourage inadvertent gunfire from errant deer hunters, consequently scaring off any wildlife.

by the time i'd made the final ascent to the highest point of the property, my pulse was thundering in my ears at 120RPM, and sweat was squeezing out from the exertion and the uncanny sixty-degree temperatures. the warmth wasn't going to last long, though.

a few more strides up, at the summit of this first line of hills from the ocean, already the wind was stripping the last of the leaves from the oaks, replacing the balmy temperatures with an icy sting. it changes so quickly, up there. alpine-style.

i chose the remains of a tree stump to stand on, surgically removed to ground level at some point in history, using it as my observation post. while the sun retreated behind the ridge, lengthening shadows in the swale, i snapped a few pics... mostly obscured by the thick undergrowth. damn, i'll have a lot of cutting to do, and soon.

i began to ruminate on all of the other times i'd made this climb, and with whom... the cast of characters have been whittled down to a very few.

rumination didn't last too long, however. not when i heard rifle fire off behind me. knowing the local idiots with firearms, blaze orange wasn't gonna be much protection against buckshot. i'll save the deep thinking for another day.

7 PM:
another radio day behind me. the grounds of the campus were denuded of students, a spectral landscape compared to the usual buzzing of activity. empty, too, the studio, with the office closed for the day, save for the subs for the anime show, and the sick-as-a-dog folk guy. no worries. no pandemonium. i could just focus on doing the show i wanted to do. and play Jackie Edwards, followed by the Clash... and read the testimonial John Cusak wrote about Joe Strummer... and the obituary for the oldest soldier that participated in the soccer match with the Germans in World War I, when they declared a truce on Christmas in 1914.
and the local listeners were there, on the phone. i wasn't alone, after all.

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