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Marlow
Sport climber
OSLO
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Feb 17, 2014 - 03:26pm PT
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Is there a Norwegian professor (technology management), Erik Rolland, at the university in Merced?
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 17, 2014 - 06:58pm PT
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I, Mouse, will try not to stray nor to look too hard into what I’m putting down. I write freely here and now and clearly in the manner which I choose to suit the moment. Always.
I’m that type of writer. If something strikes me funny, it comes out with not too much thought, it just happens.
I have my thoughts, which are worth telling. If not, then WTF am I doing it for?
I'm now editing my 'free writing,' no outline needed, because it's part of what's going on. Learning to write well but no changing the ghoulish thought process I entertain, the maudlin, the merry being mixed. I get mixed reviews, not everyone gets me, but it's been prelude to the main body of mus-ic.
Rules. Structure.
Always lines and boundaries which should not be crossed.
It is known that an outline provides structure. I don’t like waiting in line, I want it now or soon.
Driving, you wait in lines. I got shat of that red devil-car. Little Miss Temptation. An addiction. An accident waiting to happen.
Writing, you create your own lines, or tracks, better yet, for others to follow. Mice stay off trails and on tracks. I do not have a one track mind. I do not have a mental GPS. The track I follow branches many times before it gets to wherever.
There is no grid, no topo, I just do what I have to do.
Yesterday I found the mouse dead across from I V Funeral home IV.
Ivers and Alcorn, not IV...ssorry, I got it worked out...
I'm doing Talking Heads now and I got it figured out.
I'm repeating myself, for one thing. I'm here for the party, the disco and am tired and need to rejuvenate, get stronger, more like Wayne Merry.
This video, is applicable, since many of you seem like talking heads, especially dear old Locker, who's happy to repeat himself. Breathe well, old fart, and let's hope to shake hands and share some smoke and laffs with CC and Lynnie soon.[Click to View YouTube Video]
I find myself liking my adopted naked city, Merced, despite all the rumors that abound concerning it, and find it's a good place. Damn the critics, but I am not defending the city. It's not under attack. I just want to crow about what is essentially, depending on residents' minds, a decent place to live in which to live. Dig?
Then go plant some large woody objects and make some roots there while you are in Lone Pine. Thank you, Myles Moser. Very mushly. The route is a branch of my planned track, now. I love the Eastside, and all, but that classic is still a possibility. Donini would love it! Do you think?
BTW, has anyone my brown hat with the Big Pine logo? It may have run off with the neebee knit socks! I'm serious. Those items meant so much, now I'm deprived of them. Just like when Nana passed in the sixties, owing me money for pinochle, the dear old bent woman.
I love you, Ora Belle of Idaho. You are my golden one. Did Leonard ever call you Spud, Sweet Tater, or what? Nana is a pretty name, too.
neebeeshaabookway. shaddokiddo, haiku lady, just seventeen
The last place I saw my wife’s body intact, and planted that last seed of love on her lips was actually inside Ivers and Alcorn Funeral Home. Home. HAH! It's a bus depot for cadavers! Nothing homelike there except that the structure looks cool from the outside, but is a little pearl of beauty in death, nonetheless. Comforting thought.
Ashes to ashes, little LennyBrews the deadmouse. You are resurrected now. It’s Monday and a holiday.
There are omens and there are omens. You were an omen. I recognized you as such.
It s just maybe coincidence, but my recent return to the arms of a man whom some claim to be god (I witness: among whom I number myself) along with neebee and some many others, convinces me otherwise: that this mouse’s death is a sign of change, especially considering the circumstances, and that I should listen the hell up.
There is more to tell, but the clock is running. Let’s see whether I am competent enough to get this all down in fifteen minutes. Dan Walrus and I made up a song in less than ten minutes, but I lost the lyrics because I became intoxicated, basically.
It was a real good song. And I recall a real good country song I penned alone for the beauty behind the bar at Reinero's later that night. But I can't remember the words, just the notion. I can do over, I know. I need to concentrate. It may be important.
Some things only happen once in a lifetime. That experience was one. It meant something to Dan, it meant something to me, because we're friends.
The relevance is that I am a fast writer. You see how many posts and pictures there are with my name on them.
I stated when first I made my entrance on this stage that The Flames thread might would be a good way to write a book, maybe. It proved to be true, though how much of what’s in the thread will be used, actually, in the end book and ancillary products—CDs, videos, poems—remains to be seen and used.
Having said that, what next?
I went through a mind-bending experience yet again today. This full moon may have something to do with this catharsis, but that’s superstition and I have deep feelings about that versus keeping to a path that is more Christlike, but that’s the hard part, because Christ was here as part of God’s plan. I hope I believe that for the rest of my days. It's a peaceful and an easy feeling.
This is not a bible, it is not mother’s church, either.
I'm walkin' a new way, a new trail, track, doin' a new dance.
neebbe is a great dance teacher, by the way.
Because of this catharsis, the removal of something big that blocked my progress developing a long-standing project, begun in the year Nana died and having everything to do with her, the Mouse is feeling free. And having good, or better mojo, not the mediocre quotidian brand, is what needs to happen if I am to be happy with myself.
I was not happy with myself over telling this grandmother of stories that needs telling. It rings very much like Abbey's Fool's Progress, his big novel, his pet project revolving around picaresque themes and involving that dog. Which sits well with old John Steinbeck and his poodle, intelligent dogs, really, and not avalanche fodder.
Sorry to burst Tami's bubble. She will get over it, off her high horse, and be real for once. Get yer tongue out of yer cheek, Mouse, you might choke! sez she of the line drawings! Love you, cheri. :0)
It’s important or I wouldn’t be telling this on the Taco.
Everything I do is important to me now, and my baby Qs are watching my pees.
I don’t have to dot every tee, either, just to stay on someone’s good side.
I have banished the cats to the bathroom for messing with the mice, who mean no harm. In the john, they look good. It’s all they are good for, after all, looking good. Cats. Who in hell needs them. I used to own cats, but I was married to the sweetest kitty in the world and knew it. I made good friends with the nicest and prettiest, Tootser, but I had her put to death and then Liz died the next week.
U know, certainly, that there is no real good use for felines. If all they do is amuse, one thing. Sorry, zBrown. I'll STFU before I hurt your feelings, mate. Otay?
They cats are sly bastions and deserve no love from me. No, I’m not superstitious. Yep, I’m a man who wants to be like the gentlest person who ever came down and took care of business and took off again leaving nothing jive humans in charge. Those sucker Egyptians are to be pitied. All I got.
I am a product of Catholic education and last night I celebrated a funeral mass for my fallen buddy, Lenny, and I always thought I might be a pretty good priest were it not for the celibacy rule. Yet more pity.
Bring in the clown, we're having a pity party.
I have a story to tell, before I go to heaven or hell. S sacred trust? No, not truly. A veiled deathbed request which must be honored if I am to die happy and fulfilled.
Meantime, the flames will damp down, but the campfire will not go out, there are others to sit up all night nursing the coals, waiting (I'm done waiting) for sunsight.
Mouse needs a working vacation.
I don’t waste my talent here. It’s put to good use. I simply need to try to put them to some use for myself for a while, and I think it may not be long.
I have made literally dozens of new friends on the pages of the Taco.
I have learned much. I have taught more, but there is no price on my knowledge. I find some of your thoughts useful, even spectacular, and ignore much.
The vibrations have been ringing in my head for weeks and I sensed impending change. I will embrace it and love doing so. I will not be risking anything. It’s a guaranteed way to get something from my frenetic pace, which only gets faster the closer I come to the end of my race.
Read between lines.
Empty yourself on the page.
Don’t hurt one another’s feelings.
Keep on truckin’.
I'm not here now.
Down the trail, I'll see you, pardners.
Book of the Done Crow, sequel to Book of the Dun Crow.
The Gospel of Mouse from Merced 38:47
Pix at eleven. Then, quien sabe, amigos?
Edit: my best friend here on Supertopo, thought that I had been banned.
What is ironic is that my friend rSin is the one who got himself banned. Fattrad, also a ban-Nana-head* himself, told me you have to work at being banned. rSin is a hard worker, no denying. Ora Belle could have gotten banned--she could be abrasive, to put it mildly.
HOW SORRY CAN I BE, nneebbee?
We always hurt the ones we love. I made this video last night after one hellacious day wandering around my little earthy heaven, Merced.
[Click to View YouTube Video] By way of apology, Tea Woman.
I talked shortly after this with Rev. Gary DOSS at a downtown storefront Baptist church last night and we prayed, briefly. I thought everyone should know. I am to become a pilgrim locked in a cell, which we artistic types call a studio, but it's a monk I will be, physically, more or less, and a pilgrim in my mind.
I may be back long before April's sweet showers soak the flower and bring forth the song of spring.
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Feb 17, 2014 - 08:45pm PT
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Confusing isn't it?
Oh, I awoke in anger So alone and terrified I put my fingers against the glass And bowed my head and cried Says I "But Joe, you're ten years dead" "I never died" said he, "I never died" said he.
“Music is the only religion that delivers the goods.”
― Frank Zappa
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Feb 17, 2014 - 10:08pm PT
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Return of the Nine Nights
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Feb 17, 2014 - 11:57pm PT
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hey there say, mouse... ooops, forgot to share this...
darn:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darning
http://diyfashion.about.com/od/repairclothing/ss/How-To-Darn-A-Sock.htm
find needles in walgreens, type stores, etc...
and use a hardboiled egg, if NO darning-egg...
have fun, :)
a good sock, is worth the trouble, :)
OH AND:
we expect a report, ;))
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Feb 18, 2014 - 12:01am PT
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hey there say, ron.... wow, i know... mouse is confusing sometimes,
it must be 'cause we don't speak 'mouse'...
but--i do know that he is trying to write some things about
an important situation, from the past, of a friend/family member...
so that might be why we are confused??
but then:
i though it was me... i get confused easy, here, at times...
i think i NEED:
a--
program, ;)
EDIT:
thought, like any mouse-field, in the greatoutdoors, it is nice to explore and look around... things to learn, great historic stuff... cars that pass by... trees and trail, clouds, flowers, sunsets, nearby buildings...
music in the air...
lots of stuff from all kinds of 'animal, vegetable, and minerals, and squeaky mouse-lingo word tricks, add to the adventure...
:)
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 18, 2014 - 02:04am PT
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Eleven o'clock.
I'm in time for my farewell party, no pity, please. Right back, just puching the clock and two minutes late.
"At least I'm consistent, boss."
And stilll he'd write me up.
I'll be back in just a minute.
I have an hour.
I won't waste your time with drivel tonight.
Drivel is in the mind of the beholder.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 18, 2014 - 03:14am PT
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I intend to use what I have witnessed here and other places to secure me a small piece of that collective memory.
I've been described here on the ST as a sage, and I need to learn Athena's secrets.
I've been called saintly. I intend to follow the Good Book, starting with the Book of James, which is my actual given baptismal name. Name-calling is not controlling one's tongue. It makes me sad to see my friends trashed and gossiped about and that eventually stirs a tiger in my blood and I don't like the feline association.
Yes, I am speaking of the recent flap that drove Dwain out, first of all.
I'm also now very well-acquainted with rSin. We are confidants. I reached out, the ONLY one to my knowledge to have done so. It was a most pleasant surprise. Too late for the rest of you. He is unable to control his tongue. I empathized greatly and decided to "risk" getting acquainted with a mad man.
Chongo speaks for himself.
I really want to thank Throwpie, my sidekick from Chico and Merced and the Factory Outlet in Berkeley. He and I have spoken and interacted little in the last thirty-forty years. But we are still both originals from way down in the fog belt. John Muir came here from Wisconsin. Not that I'm John Muir, but some of that guy is in all of us. I want that kind of respect and it's too easy to find faux respect here for lame sh#t that I write, which any good editor might laugh at but still refuse. Muir had a very florid style, a man of his times. I am way to hip for some of you, it seems. I want to meet John in the middle and have a go at a rep like that.
Supertopo cred ain't beans in the REAL WORLD.
Sounds like a First World Problem? The 1-2-3 world ended the day the Cold War died, folks, so why don't you get hip and use really relevant terms. Try original. Go picaresque.
That's what's up and I'm turning out the light in the window. The Tioga, or Middle Earth, suits me fine, and it is being restored and made into the Tioga 2.0, making it a second class Apartment Hotel, but what's it to me? I live here, on the northern side of the building (the shady side) and my room is right of the shaft in the center of the picture. Yell up, sound carries really well out of that alley, and I'll open the window and shout back and come down and hug you like no tomorrow if you want to see me.
You can always email me in advance. I'm losing the telephone for the next few months by choice. It's a distraction.
3 minutes to midnight.
Drama queen.
Just simple gifts, kids.
We are all leaves in the wind and magic and grace are alive and around.--Thank you, Buffy.neebee is my best friend and I want you to know it. I don't have to be her best friend. We only just met, it seems. But things are going well now, better than before, and the future is looking so bright I might need that missing ball cap that says Big Pine and I might have to find those cheap sunglasses.
Finally, thank you all for the gift of friendship, shared wisdom, shared good times, and shared sorrow.
[Click to View YouTube Video]From my very favorite story ever.
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Feb 18, 2014 - 06:28am PT
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hey there say, mouse, are you okay? we are all your good friends, but you are getting really complex, at times...
hope your health is okay? i know you mentioned it here, a few times...
or are you just caught up in your writing??
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Feb 18, 2014 - 10:06am PT
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Feb 18, 2014 - 10:17am PT
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Accessorize to traverse the perilous drivel mine field.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 18, 2014 - 10:52am PT
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You worry too much, you talka me to death, but you never seem to read enough between the lines, neebs.
to the norwegians and the lollie lady from skansas:
jeg skal gå på ski senere.
Chapter the First is now born and baptized.
I have progeny again, neebs, but other than that, I'm fine as frog hair and made it through my first day with no abuse of substance to report.
There is a new lady in my life.
Kitty.
I'm in heaven, and Gabe says "HI, GENE. STay clean, you horny bastion."
Shofar, my brethren, so good. As my man J.Steinbeck wrote,
"Once again the world was spinning in greased grooves."
Climbing metaphor: It's hard to let go sometimes, but let go you must.
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LilaBiene
Trad climber
Technically...the spawning grounds of Yosemite
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Feb 18, 2014 - 10:57pm PT
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[Click to View YouTube Video]
listen @ 9:15
If you need someone to talk to as the wretched garbage is exiting your system (tearing you apart on its way out, because you know it will), you call me. I don't care what time it is, you call me. The new moving in may feel like demons straight from Hell, but like everything else, its edges will soften with time...and you will be a free bird.
listen @ 9:15 again
You are loved, Mouse. Like it or lump it.
You should know that a couple of hours ago, I saw and read for the first time (as it arrived in the mail today), Bill's Death Certificate.
Reading between the lines leaves lots of room for interpretation...scaring the living sh*t out of the people who love you? I know you don't want to inflict that kind of pain. Because I know your heart.
Listen...
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Feb 19, 2014 - 12:12am PT
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hey there say, ... wow, three cheers to lilabiene, as the old westerns would say:
white hat hero, arrives on the scene, :)
ps:
dear dearest audry, oh my... very sad to hear the death certificate pain, but
VERY thankful that you have YET another piece of the beloved father...
hugs as this mixed emotion time...
i am cherishing things of my daddy's too, in other ways,
and a view new ones that arrive, as well...
happy merced to you mouse-- spring and freshness, are on the way, :)
just a few more months... mice do well in the new blossom season...
you can too!
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Feb 19, 2014 - 01:42am PT
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Well...not trying to read too deep into the Mouse....but, he always amazed me with his ability to just walk up to the edge and peer over, checking out 2,000 feet like it was 10. Me, I would be on all fours. Exposure was not an issue for him.
I'll give you a buzz next time i'm in the Ced.
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Feb 19, 2014 - 11:00am PT
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Not Ed Roth, he fe dead. A game of mouse and cat?
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Barbarian
climber
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Feb 19, 2014 - 03:33pm PT
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ZBrown....thanks for making me think of my dear friend Ed. He would have loved that shot!
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Feb 19, 2014 - 10:29pm PT
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Barbarian:
I met Mr. Roth once at a car show in Balboa Park, San Diego. I managed to lose my weirdo shirt somehow through the years.
To be his friend, that's something else. I think he would have appreciated this thread. It is after all about carz. For those too young to remember.
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