LEVI WINS!

LEIPHEIMER WINS 2009 TOUR

Levi Leipheimer (AST) wins the Amgen Tour of California for third straight year.

Lance Armstrong Bicycle

This is the specially designed bicycle made for Lance to ride in the Amgen Tour of California. I saw him ride it on February 14th in Sacramento for the Timed Trials. That night it was stolen from the team's bike trailer that was parked at their hotel. The bicycle has been recovered, but not before a new, specialy made to replace it had arrived on the scene. Lance says the only difference in the two are the words "Lance - Ride this one like YOU stole it."



The race continues today with Stage 6 Timed Trails heading out of Solvang. Good luck to all the riders!

Go Levi!

NEIGHBORS FROM HELL

A very unfortunate turn of events.

I understand now the difference of good neighbors, you know, those that come over and get to know you and become good friends over the years, and the not at all good neighbors, those that move in and become the new bullies kids on the block.

My neighbors, I'll call them C&C for now, moved in last spring. The day they moved in and while the moving truck was still in their driveway, the lady C came over not to ask, but to tell me to turn my music down. What the ?? What she didn't know was that the security screen door she knocked on but could not see through was hiding behind it a really cute and friendly, but not so friendly to strangers, female boxer. So she doesn't like the music and she gets the fuck scared out her by the dog. We are off to a good start. NOT.

Okay, I have no problem admitting that I love to listen to loud music. I do. It's something I love. And on that day I was playing Frank Zappa a little loud, but by no means loud enough to merit a complaint. It was about midday and I was shocked that she was at the door telling me to "just turn it down." Okay, I'm listening to Joe's Garage and she's telling me something right off the album. Hilarious. I couldn't believe it and could barely respond because I was really in shock, but I managed to blurt out four words, "Um, okay, but no." Well that was just the beginning of the harassment. I have since had the police called on me three times for noise complaints. Of course, all three times were during the day and I was found NOT in violation of our city's noise ordinance.

The weirdness doesn't stop there. Right after they moved in, and yes, after the whole thing about the music went down on move-in day, I gave them a plant and a baked goodie. As soon as I handed them to lady C, she as quickly as she could without dropping them, gave them to her husband and said as she walked away "I'm not a plant person." Yikes. How big is the stick up her ass?

Then this started happening and I thought I was tripping. They started controlling the parking spaces in front of the houses. Where there is plenty of room for three to park, they park in a way that only two cars will fit. At first I thought I was tripping on them too much, but no, I haven't drank too much koolaid. We live on a busy street and have driveway/garage parking along with street parking. No problems in the eight plus years I've lived here.

A couple days ago I leave the parking space in front of my house on the street to go to the store for ten minutes. I get back and the crazy ass went out and moved his tank back a couple feet so I could not park there. I was mad and wanted to know where they were coming from by doing that. I went over and knocked on their door. Of course, like the only other time I did that, they did not open the door. I went home and huffed and puffed to the family and settled into cooking and dinner. Well who was to visit me during that dinner? The fucking police. AGAIN! It turns out that they felt threatened by me when I knocked at the door. Give me a fucking break! I was again in shock. Okay. This guy is over six feet tall and I'm a small lady - 5.5 not much over 100. Are they kidding? Well the police sure didn't think so. I spoke with them while my young son stayed inside, yes, that's right, my young son. See, they are such cowards that they would rather send the police to speak to me than to speak to me themselves. What is that? I usually open the door when people knock on it and find out what they want, not call the police to say I'm being threatened. I mean really. Just speak to me if you have a problem with me. That's all.

I took the advice of the police department and called the mediation services offered by the city. The problem with that is it takes two parties to mediate and of course, they decline the offer. Fuckers. I did do a little research though and found out that the guy (mr control freak) is an over-educated shithead. A leading world expert in his field. Oh boy. I don't care who he is or what he has done. He's an asshole. And their house address is listed as the California headquarters the company that he is employed with. I think it's time to contact the company.

I know. You are wondering if there was anything I did to provoke this sort of behavior. I'm telling you, all I've done is be the same person I've always been. I have done nothing directly to them. In fact, it wasn't long after they moved in that the police first came. Believe me, after that I was done. I've never had that sort of thing happen. Never. All of my neighbors and I get along great. Until now. I hope they move, the sooner the better.

Apollo Sunshine

That's this little guy! My newest purring friend!
He loves to climb the peach tree!








And hideout in the bamboo!

Summer Friends

Fun in the Front Yard





Photos by Tickledrop September 9, 2008

Music City USA

My friend Block and I outside The Belcourt Theater in Nashville. We were there to see an amazing band -- King Crimson.

Goodbye Utah

Utah Phillips who was an anarchist, hobo, railroader, folksinger, community activist, tramp, husband, father, amazing storyteller and honorable man, passed away while asleep Friday night in his home in Nevada City, California. As a regular listener of his radio show Loafer's Glory: The Hobo Jungle of the Mind, I found his storytelling fascinating. His stories are those needing to be told about the hard work and efforts of the Industrial Workers of the World (Wobblies) from today and long ago. A hero dedicated to honor all workers, both men and women. He will not be forgotten.

****************************

THE TWO BUMS

(AUTHOR UNKNOWN, FIRST PRINTED IN GEORGE MILBURN'S THE HOBO'S HORNBOOK, NEW YORK, 1930)

The bum on the rod is hunted down

As the enemy of mankind;

The other is driven around to his club

And feted, wined and dined.

And they who curse the bum on the rods

As the essence of all that is bad

Will greet the other with a winning smile

And extend him the hand so glad.

The bum on the rods is a social flea

Who gets an occasional bite;

The bum on the plush is a social leech,

Blood-sucking day and night.

The bum on the rods is a load so light

That his weight we scarcely feel,

But it takes the labor of dozens of men

To furnish the other meal.

As long as you sanction the bum on the plush,

The other will always be there,

But rid yourself of the bum on the plush

And the other will disappear.

Then make an intelligent, organized kick,

Get rid of the weights that crush;

Don't worry about the bum on the rods,

Get rid of the bum on the plush!