New era

It is a delicate balance of vintage japanese bikes and antique American vans that keeps oggy mobile.

who doesn't love sleeping in a van with a motorcycle between your bed and a wood stove?

Camp Host

Humble Kitchen

I managed to get a government job, which is something I thought my time in Chiapas would prevent me from doing. And I'm the greatest campground host who ever lived, if I don't mind saying so. You basically can't be crazy enough to get me to kick you out.

Overheating again

 I pray this summer and fall go well. I'm a National Park employee, as close to John Muir's footsteps as I can get. I managed to evade Trump's federal hiring freeze and Muslim ban and immigrant ban. And I get paid holiday vacations and health care, such as it is. I guess life could be worse.

emergency surgery

finally, a title I can be proud of

Meditations

I played some music for a rock star in Topanga and she thought there was something good about my J.J. Newberry's tribute. All the L.A. canyons have high musical standards so if it gets good reviews there then there might be some truth to it. My original music is like my essays, torn from the grief of my everyday life and written on tear-stained paper. Uploaded using Taco Bell free wireless or the library, sitting in the rain with the computer on a newspaper dispenser, waiting for the connection to return, bats catching moths in the streetlight, ocean fog ruining my suede trousers. The usual nonsense.

But I've been working on a project song for many years, longer than any album except Smile to be completed. I decided it must be a song about denial, the hero is 'glad she's gone' and 'better off alone'. I have plenty of personal experiences to support my theme and since I got the compliment in Topanga I tried to spend my nights vacillating between misery and reflection, looking for the few words that capture the idea and the tone can't be misunderstood. The van is my studio.

The song chords, although I tried to be more sophisticated, kept going back to the I, IV, V. There is a pattern but it doesn't fit the normal blues or folk. I'm not even sure if the measures all add up. I thought singing and speaking realize the emotional tone best and pay tribute to Lefty Frizzell, my musical mentor.

I haven't quite decided on the title. I thought "Talking to Myself" was good.

Words and Music by Senor Oggy Bleacher
                  D
I've made mistakes
         G                                       D
And loving you wasn't the only one.
 G                
But it's the one that hurt the most
          D                        G
when all was said and done.
D                       A                        G                        D
I can't help believing, you were wrong to set me free
G             A                          D
I'm no good when it's only me

I'm glad you're gone
cuz loving you was too much for one man
The morning sun in your blue eyes
was more than I could stand
I got no right to ask for one more day
I got no right to stand in your way

(bridge)
G      
I'm better off alone
                 D
watching movies all night long
G
replaying over and over again
A
what went wrong...what went wrong...what the hell went wrong?

So this is goodbye
We've come to the end of the road
I'm ready to let you go
and turn back into a toad
It's been nice to know you
aw, what the hell,
It's been nice to know you...been nice to know you
been nice to know you, fare thee well.

SEKI PANO

This cost me some blood when a boulder rolled on my leg so I have to post it.

All Hail John Muir

Muir is the big reason this is not a flooded dam for water to sell to hydrofracturing companies.

This bridge survived the melt but the one upstream did not.

Not pictured are my cut-off shorts and chicken legs