Tuna Traversing and Bloody Eel Juice Before Sunrise is a Perfectly Good Way to Start a Morning
Current mood: peaceful
Category: Travel and Places
Every inch of warehouse floor was covered with giant frozen tuna with their fins chopped off.
Off to the side near me were the auctioneer, his bell-ringer and bidders screaming in Japanese with their bids.
Surrounding me with large-for-Japanese Japanese men with bloody hooks…. And boots designed to walk on icy warehouse floors covered in giant frozen tuna.
I had no such boots and imagined myself slipping and landing on a hook.
In fact, looking around, I saw no one else that didn't belong amongst the group such as myself. Instead of winter coats and icy hooks I was dressed for hiking later that day, not tuna traversing.
A slip and good avoidance of a hook and for the umpteenth time in my life, I wondered how I got myself into this situation.
A short time later, I saw in the distance a roped off area with a "visitors" sign and white legged Europeans with cameras clicking at the group and fish that I was interloping amongst.
I casually started sneaking away like Elmer Fudd tracking Bugs.
"Shhhh…. Be bery bery quiet. I'm hunting tuna photos."
I joined the tourists so I would no longer be a part of the photos.... and for my own safety.
The simply fact of the matter is that I saw a large room filled with giant tuna and a funny looking Japanese man screaming about them. Who wouldn't be drawn to that?
One minute, I am squeezing between Styrofoam crates of fish only Seuss would dream of and trying not to be distracted by whatever liquid spilled on my leg from the bloody eel boxes and the next minute I'm inside the world famous Tokyo Fish Auction before sunrise.
If there's photos to be had, I'm going to diving head first in to take them.
Of course, I know I'm the same guy who once ran after a bear to get a photo and once had a mountain goat three feet in front of my face.Oh, and there was that incident where a man chased after me in the New Delhi slums for taking his father's picture simply because he was dressed in religious garb and I thought he had a nice face.
In hindsight, it seems odd that I would put myself in harm's way for photos of dead fish at auction but it seemed right at the time and, knowing me, I will do it again.
I lost my way a couple of years ago. I know the exact time and place the contributing incidents happened, but that's besides the point. I lost my way. In the past year, I toured Istanbul and re-discovered the idea of not feeling anymore - a great, but unusual way of starting fresh.
Since then, I've been discovering what I want.
Now in Japan, I discover how to get lost again and thus created a personal philosophy of constantly moving, constantly soaking up life.
To find oneself, one must lose oneself.
From the moment, I landed in Tokyo to departure I constantly moved no matter how exhausted I was from working the previous 6 weeks in India. How many times does one get to be in a city like that? Never. So sleeping in the hotel wasn't an option.
I walked just about every neighborhood of Tokyo, non-stop. No to mention the seaside and mountain towns of Kikkoman and Nikko.
And thus is my life. Keep moving forward. Get lost. Get found. And enjoy lots of tuna.
Currently
listening
:
Lester Leaps In
By
Count Basie
Release date: 20 February, 2002
Let's take it further.... Tortillas are eaten mostly by immigrants. Take away their food source and they stay home. This is icing on the cake. Though Mexicans don't get icing on their cakes.
Fewer immigrants mean less demand on housing.
This solves the current "meltdown" in the mortgage industry.
A better housing market means I can afford to buy a house in California.
As more people buy a house closer to work there will be ….. wait for it …..
Less demand for gas. And then no need to care about the Middle East.
No more war.
All Problems Solved. Please send my plane ticket for the Nobel Prize to me now. I'll drive home now to pick it up.
P.s. India is good. Monsoon season is in full force and so are the flies. I'll be in Tokyo next month to vacation.... so that will make this worth it. Will log on when I can.
Currently
listening
:
Zeitgeist
By
Smashing Pumpkins
Release date: 10 July, 2007
What Redd Learned This Month.... Nothing; or applied knowledge to say three little words.
Category: Romance and Relationships
I said the words.
It took awhile, but I had my reasons and I did finally say them.
"I love you." Three little words, but a big deal. Big deal. BIG deal. But, I made a promise the last time I was in a relationship that I wouldn't be so cavalier the next time around. So, when I found myself hearing the words from the new girl... and I couldn't respond because of a promise to myself ... I felt sort of like a jerk. For awhile I did my best to use other phrases to convene the feelings without using the words. As Ash likes to say, "Maybe I didn't say all the words" but its not the same. Well enough was enough.
To understand me in "romantic mode" is to know Kevin James in Hitch or King of Queens or... anything he touches.
A penguin in a china shop. A marmat in suit. A bear on a tricycle. Awkwards abounds.
I told her I loved her as I dropped her off at the airport last week. She melted.
She said it back.
She kissed me.
And then stepped in gum.
A match made in marmalade. Sticky and sweet.
Currently
listening
:
Yield
By
Pearl Jam
Release date: 03 February, 1998
This is the One Where Redd Eats Sympathy PMS Ice Cream and Discovers He Prefers Being a Caveman
Current mood: loved
Category: Life
I blame Erin. I really do.
Because of Erin, I've been in an extra special sweet mode lately. The kind of mode where I feel sorry for Emily the New when she is feeling blue. Sitting on the couch after a hard day. PMS'ing and other women whatnots. I like my new roommate for no other reason than the positive personality she personifies. So, I want to help.
So I buy her favorite ice cream while I'm at the store. I buy her chocolate syrup. I eat with her so she doesn't feel guilty. We watch a sitcom about wedding planners. She is already starting to feel better. And then..... a anti-vaginal itch cream commercial comes on.
..
I'm out. I crossed the line between empathy and sympathy. And instantly call Erin to make vulgar crude manly man comments. Like a bad Snickers commercial, I pull chest hair. I build a doghouse and then go about town punching people in the balls.
Of course, this is probably karma for me taking Nick the Mormon Brother, Rachel the Pure and some Christian friends to Hooters the night before for Nick's birthday so they could all ooooogle the wings.
Donkey Shows, Dancing Skeletons, Dead Guys, and Sin Sticks: or, the month in review for Redd
Current mood: sick
Category: Life
I have known no credible witness to the Tiajuana Donkey Shows. None. And I have family and friends who live there. And have known many people who would pay to see a donkey and a woman getting simultaneously pleasured.
Or, at least, look like they are pleased. Sexy music helps them looked pleased.
However, a man once offered me the use of his sister for two weeks at a cost of $500. He was in his late 50's. So was she. I took the deal and my house became spotless along with all my friends. Her new career as a maid started.
I went to a club the other day where I saw a woman in her early 50's dancing. This by itself was not usual.
The fact that she looked like she had liposuction is not usual. Nor that she had also liposucked the muscles and tissue as well. Nor the skin-tight clothes that clung to her every gyration. Nor that the skeleton image burned the retinas of my eyes with her assslaps. The unusual thing was the fact that I was in a club in the first place.
The guy she was with looked happy. Mood lighting helps people look happy.
I saw my first dead body the other day.
New Emily and I were walking to corner store which takes us past the local cemetery and mortuary. We looked through the front door and saw an open casket. I have been past the building many times over the years and the front door has never been open before. This time there were no people, except the dead head visible from the sidewalk. The head had perfectly combed blonde hair.
Usually there are people milling about in front trying to look sad.
Black helps them look sad.
I haven't had a cigarette in nearly four days.
I'm climbing the walls and looking to suck on something. Anything.
I quit for myself. At least, two months ago I switched to nicotine-free, chemical-free, all-natural . . . . paper. And cut back to a minimum of one every other day to a maximum of no more than three days. I could justifiably call myself a non-smoker and still feed the addiction. And then I heard the words, "I don't kiss smokers." Fuck.
I was quitting for me.
But the thought of not kissing her sped the process up.
But, despite grumpy on-edgeness. I'm warmed. Nicotine-free, chemical-free, all natural . . . . kisses makes one feel warmed.
No beasts of burden for showing
No modesty of self for ho'ing.
No mourners for the coffin
No nails for the coughin'.
P.S. Lemonade, I really did quit. But, I'll never admit it was for you.
Currently
listening
:
Thank You for Smoking
By
Original Soundtrack
Release date: 18 April, 2006
Last Blogger Standing - Voting Booth
Current mood: scared
Category: Games
Blog-Off is now over. H is for H____ won 29-20.
I'm hosting an anonymous vote thing for Last Blogger Standing. I'll be back with my usual wity musing soon and maybe a story involving a octopus and a monkey.
H is for WonderBread and Ya Down with ADD are involved in a blog-off. Please read and vote for the blog is better. The contestants are anonymous... so please play along and don't reveal if you know. Voting stops Wed at 7 pm. Loser sits down, the winner moves on. You, the public, decides.
To Vote: Simply post a comment stating if you want Blog A or Blog B.
TASK: Write a public service announcement in 700 characters or less.
BLOG A "Caution to Partygoers" The scene is familiar. A Saturday night. A back yard. Lawn chairs, beer, and two empty bottles of tequila resting on the grass. Fun times right? But soon the night takes a dramatic turn.
While everybody else is twirling on the lawn, or singing Baby Got Back or accidentally making love to a large oak tree, one friend is walking out to the drive way, her hands fumble in her purse - for a cell phone.
What happens next could be devastating. A reunion with an old boyfriend. A booty call to a co-worker. Being talked into a time-share. And Amway.
And where are her friends? This could've been prevented. Friends don't let friends dial drunk. Be a friend. Take away the phone. Drunk dialing ruins lives.
BLOG B "The More You Know, The More You Grow" After work, you make a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich because it is quick, easy. Perhaps you grab a bag of spinach, throw in some shredded carrots, roma tomatoes, and top it off with creamy ranch dressing. Stop. Don't. It isn't safe anymore. Instead, get a deep fryer. Deep fry everything. You want that peanut butter and jelly sandwich? Deep fry it. Spinach salad? Deep fry it. Don't worry if you get fat. Better fat than dead. Besides, with the recent backlash against anorexic models, fat is the new beautiful. So deep fry that food. Go on, do it. Eat Fried and Live Long. The more you know, the more you grow.
The State of Redd is Strong - or, I'm not writing, I'm blogging
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Life
The State of Redd is strong.
Since today is a day of reflection, recollection, and reconciliation I find myself pre-drinking pondering, pontificating, and panwalla-ing.*
I believe that life is a much like a cross-country road trip. You have a map but you only know the 100 yards in front of you illuminated by the headlamps. The map provides a guide, but does not prepare you for the views that come across your windows. You know where you are going.
You know where you have been.
But, it is the choices that we make that decide if we are lost in the Mojave or living it up in Scranton.
Where I have been.
That is me 60 pounds ago a short while ago. Look at that round head! I'm on a path back to my Calvin Klein underwear modeling days and should be there in roughly. . . well, somewhere slightly behind the headlamps are showing me, but sooner than later according to the scale.
Where I'm going.
No idea.
That could be a problem, but I know that I'm not lost and I know that I'm not quite where I want to be. Eloquent and rambled, but so is my personality.
Recently I was asked to state my personal goals and I came up blank. My life has changed so much each time I'm asked . . . this is about five years apart that I'm surprised there is a connection from one five year period to the next. Instead of dreams, I want goals.
Travel more. Buy a house in a city that I really enjoy. Maybe somewhere in there start a family. None of this has to happen now, but before I die is nice.
Romance
Simply put, to fall in love without hating myself. That seems lofty and way down the line, so . . . I'll settle for the ability to like someone. I could see myself liking someone someday . . . . maybe, possibly, could happen. Nice guy with a stone heart …. Weird combo. I should probably look into that. Let me hem and haw some more on this topic. Okay, I don't want to think about it. Or talk to anyone about it.
Friends and Family I like them. I like the new ones. I like the old ones.
Money
Its getting better each month.
Overall I used to hate everyone and everything. I still do, but my fascination lets me learn from all and that. . . that I like.
The state of Redd is strong. And he shall roll on.
*A panwalla is the guy in India that sits behind a booth in India and sells gum, cigarettes, etc. He works with such multi-tasking and focus that his brains and arms are like that of a octopus. Very smart creatures they are.
Currently
listening
:
Walk the Line
By
Joaquin Phoenix
Release date: 15 November, 2005
I once lived a country club suburban childhood existence.
I once lived a down and out got chased by guns hood existence.
It is easy to predict the one that I cared for better . . . .
I liked my Star Wars toys.
And the better stories that sprang forth.
My last year in Jr. High saw the final arrival of my parents' divorce. Mom moved down the street because it was cheap - she took the furniture and my brothers.
Dad stayed put with Angi the Sister and I.
We lived in a cave of walls and nothing to sit on. It was awesome . . . . we never saw our Dad so we had full run of the place. And if we wanted a warm meal, we walked down to Mom's.
We could do what we wanted . . . . and did.
This included painting the entire inside of the house pink at my sister's suggestion.
But, things got worse before they got better.
Worse doesn't include the crack house that sprang up between Dad's and Mom's.
Worse doesn't include watching Mom break into our piggies for milk money. Worse doesn't include the lack of presents under the tree.
Mom moved in with her parents in Wilmington where Arco refines the oil into gasoline..
Wilmington was next to Watts and down the street from Compton.
Wilmington was so bad that gangbangers dreamed of a better life in Watts.
Mom just wanted to survive.
Not wanting to disrupt our education, we commuted an hour every morning back to safe suburbia. Back to Macy's clad kids and equestrian trained housewives.
Man, I miss those pink walls. Thank you, Angi.
Currently
listening
:
My Funny Valentine
By
Miles Davis
Release date: 01 February, 2005
"Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana." Groucho Marx. And Timberlake the Hero
Current mood: hyper
Category: Life
I think enough time has passed that we have proper perspective to put the ramifications into context. A full gauge of the historical significance can now be attained as the professors say.
I think as a nation that we have properly healed. We are whole again.
There were some rough times there. Some rough seas, if you will. But, we are going to be okay now. I know these things. We are okay again.
He brought sexy back.
And our nation is now healed.
I, for one, am thrilled beyond belief. I admit I had some dark gloomy days there. I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel and desperatly needed a hero to save me. Save us.
Praise Jesus.
Can I get an amen?
"Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana." Groucho Marx
I read the quote and it stuck like melted marshmallow making a mess in my mind. For the life of me, I couldn't fully grasp why it was funny and at the same time made logical sense. Time logical moves forward as an arrow would, but fruit represents comedy and sin and, according to Groucho, is propelled non-linear.
I spent days thinking of this.
Thesis were written in the mucussed filled skull this past week.
And then it dawned on me - 'flies' is a verb in the first segment and a noun in the second. 'Like' is a metaphor in the former and a verb in the later.
You think you have the pattern and it changes.
It was like I rediscovered the English language.
Of course, he is also the man that said
"Those are my principles. If you don't like them I have others."
So, I should have known better.
:=,=
In both instances...
What was lost is now found.
Currently
watching
:
Idiocracy Release date: 09 January, 2007
Lessons on Guys .1 - Guys Watch Sports, Girls Watch Chick Flicks;or What Redd Learned This Week
Category: Sports
One of my earliest memories was my Dad taking my brother and I to see Rocky IV where the popular protagonist pugilist pounded the physically more powerful pugilist opponent.
It was always a fond memory for my brother and I.
Wanting to rekindle some of the long lost fatherly bonding, I decided to take my Dad to the new sequel as a Christmas present.
Recently, my Dad lost his job. He put his house for sale to create a bit of savings.
He is getting old... way past his prime. He hasn't hit hard times, but he can see the street sign.
Watching the new Rocky wanting to prove something to himself, not give in, to face the challenges that life throws at you really seemed to hit home for Pops. A few days later, my Dad got a job. It might have been coincidence, but I like to think the extra confidence helped in the interview.
Nick and I continued on our journey home from his house in Las Cruces, New Mexico (near El Paso). Seeing quite a few Oklahoma fans caravanning on their way to the Fiesta Bowl to play little BoiseState, Nick drew in the dirt of my car - "Go Boise State" "Broncos Rule" "Oklahoma Sucks" We even placed signs in the windows. You see (for the ladies) - Oklahoma is one of the winningest football teams ever. And they are set to remind little old BoiseState who has no pedigree, no regional fan base, and no business being 12-0 this season that Oklahoma is above playing them in a bowl game.
Nick and I have followed Boise St. all season long. Not sure why, but we were rooting for all the underdogs. So we were bandwagon fans, but bandwagoners for a long time.
Maybe it was because we know what it's like to be the underdog.
I find myself in the role of little old BoiseState. I just wrapped up a year where I kept being told that I wasn't good enough in my personal and professional life. I deemed not good enough before weighed and measured.
When the pudding had proof. When judgment wasn't sought. And/or, when I brought it upon myself. Nick is battling in Hollywood. The land of underdogs. BoiseState heard this all year long too.
The game came and went. With an outcome greater than I have ever seen since the Miracle on Ice.
For those who missed it - three trick plays to end the game and a couple comebacks. BoiseState made some mistakes to make it harder on themselves, but they came thru. The impossible was possible.
The underdog showed the size of the fight inside. They proofed something. And, to make matters sweeter, won.
So, it is a new year and I feel inspired. It is time to get what I want. Time to prove myself right. Time to reach my goals.
"Let's start building some hurtin' bombs." Survival is not good enough. I shall prevail this year. In all aspects.
If they all can do it, so can I. Time to kick ass, who's first?
And this is why men watch sports... for the same reason girls watch chick flicks - Hope and bloodthirsty competition.
Currently
listening
:
Skin and Bones
By
Foo Fighters
Release date: 07 November, 2006
"The Stars at Night are Big and Bright"; or, what Redd learned this week in Texas
Current mood: amused
Category: Life
I hate Texas. Let me state that upfront. I can't help it. Old wounds heal slow. This might be why I haven't visited my Mom in the three years since she moved here. So, I cowboy'd up this week and paid her a visit with Nick the Brother.
"The stars at night are big and bright" Whenever those lyrics are overheard, it is a state law that any citizen must respond with the next verse: "DEEP IN THE HEART OF TEXAS" It's true. You can look it up.Enforced by real Texas Rangers.
We are taking full advantage of it.
Walking down the street.
On the light rail. In the steakhouses.
Once, Texans find it funny. Twice, and they roll their eyes but still play along. After the fifth or sixth time and they start to get ornery.
We didn't write the law, but when in Rome, Texas . . . be like the Roman Texans.
Nick and I are driving to Dallas from Los Angeles and currently in the middle of the vast wasteland of West Texas. Third world countries are more developed. We haven't seen another car or building for over an hour. We did wake up to see the widest sunrise ever creating a silhouette out of the nearby oil pump.
Wanting to mix with the locals we take breakfast at a diner in Big Spring. Nice folk. Texas folk.
We get an unprovoked 'ye-haw' which is sure to put a smile on any visitor. I will admit that Texans are very friendly to outsiders. Even tenderfoot Californians.
The town used to be called Twin Springs, but changed names when the smaller spring dried up. They are trying to figure out what to name their town when the big one dries up soon. Being from OrangeCounty where we don't any more orange trees and the local Lakers are symbols of our lack of lakes, I can't relate.
For a town rich in American history, Dallas is devoid of tourist attractions. The most famous is also the most infamous. The grassy knoll and School Depository - phrases only known and associated because of JFK.
We played a game of seeing how many times we can work the phrase "back and to the left" in casual conversations. . . . Well, we stopped after talking to the parking lot attendant. He loses track of the number of times on average some jackass pulls in and asks if they should park "back and to the left" on the lot.
It seems the assassination of one of America's most favorite icons ever is still a sore subject in these here parts.
What I've learned from Texans this week (just in time for resolutions):
Some Texans know where they're at.
Some Texans know where they're going.
Some Texans know where they've been.
But, they're still all Texans and I hate every single one.
Okay some less than others.
My New Year's Resolutions:
None.
Resolutions are based on regrets and I regret nothing from this past year. There are the goal setting ones, but I've done that already.
But, I still learned from Texans this week and will use the time to reflect instead. Today, I'm going to watch some cowboys rustle some longhorns. That should be filled with education.
Now, here is the first and last poem that will ever grace my page 'cause it was written by someone else.
BLOGGER C a.k.a. Je Maverick
"Last Gasp"
It all started when? When these beliefs first wriggled out, worms, turning. Some built a use for martyr, some pariah constructed words, as barriers, to mark each gulf between with their own Cain.
Each faith's seed was buried buried in the piling rot of this grey earth to reap a crop of same, grown differently. Some holies were born evil: the reverse was also true. Some built freedoms from them, for all of them. Songs for the tree of man that sang: although we are not the same, we are. One, but many.
Here, now, at each worms juncture, within the roots within this rot within this earth, the worms turn more, those freedom's kingdoms, fallen, fashioned as old whores, raped with the scythe of our own fear, and if you didn't hear as they fell from one last clarion, Songs for the Tree of Man, faded like dying echoes, to the last guttural breath, and that was the last gasp heard from them.
--------------
Thank you to Norm for the awesome winner's graphic.
I'm Your Raggedy Andy No Longer: or, I Told You I Didn't Want to Wear the Damn Mask.
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Romance and Relationships
(repost because I'm lazy and working on Last Blogger - winner announced tonight)
I'm not your surrogate teddy bear anymore. I've had enough of the tough guy outside, caring squeezable softie routine. I'm putting my foot down. I'm no longer your filler. I'm no longer your Raggedy Andy.
You can't just use me as a replacement anytime you need some support. I'm no longer the ragdoll that you are used to. I'm not yours to be controlled at your will any longer. I can't just be flopped down in the big easy chair allowing you play psycho therapy talk session. I know how much you used to love to dress me up and play games... but that is over now. And we won't be playing school. Nor with the dollhouse, the damn thing is too small anyways.
peaceful
giddy
sleepy
loved
..
sick
scared
contemplative
crushed
hyper
:
=
,
=
amused
restless
nostalgic
