“The sky, at sunset, looked like a carnivorous flower.”
― Roberto Bolaño, 2666
So, this weekend I’ve been fiddling around with some stuff – since I soon will have a lot of time on my hands I have been looking for things that are fun to do and don’t cost much money. One thing is I have built a little alcohol stove from a Fancy Feast cat treat can and a little empty can of tomato paste. What I want to do it to put together a kit that I can use to walk to some random spot, heat water, and make coffee.
This evening was a simple test of my idea – alcohol stove for hot water, AeroPress for the coffee. It all fit into a sling bag and I walked down to the park at the end of my block. It worked fairly well – though I had to make three trips back and forth for things I forgot or almost lost. I’m learning – next time will be better.
I sipped my (not hot enough) coffee, looked at all the folks out for a walk, and watched the sun set – it was so beautiful I pulled my phone out and snapped a snap.
“I want each of you to ask yourself right now: am I the Blue Falcon Sgt. Johnstone is talking about? Do I have it in me to fuck over my buddy so that I can have an easier time? Because I’ll tell you right here, right now: it will come out in the wash. It always comes out in the wash. You might get away with it for a day, or a week, but it is our job to find you; and we are very good at our jobs.”
There’s money in it, administering programs which succor the homeless … which, if the homeless were ever successfully homed … would mean an end to that mission and money stream. So the civic powers that be have a vested interest in keeping those programs going, and even expanding them to minister to ever-increasing numbers of homeless. Which makes the powers-that-be feel all noble, responsive, responsible and unselfish-like … but which one commenter on the linked thread pointed out … for all intents and purposes they are farming people for a money crop.
For Christmas, my son bought me (and both my sons) tickets to the Kansas-West Virginia game at Allen Fieldhouse. An amazing gift. The three of us drove up to Lawrence, stayed in an Air B&B and walked around a very cold and snowy town. The game was a blast.
It reminded me of a time, almost fifty years ago, when I walked into Allen Fieldhouse as a barely 17 year old freshman for my first KU basketball game. It was one of the most amazing times of my life.
I’m old, old enough to remember the stagflation of the Carter years. It felt just like this. It isn’t a good thing – especially when you consider the pain (20% interest rates) that are necessary to get out of it.