May it Be an Even Star shines down upon you --Enya

ai laurie lantar lassi surinan--JRR Tolkien

I was singing that song all day, and indeed for several days, after that wonderful performance at the Britt. We don't always have nice stars here in the Pacific Northwest. And rarely do they have such impeccable timing!

June 12th-the day broke……… I hurt all over the place. Between the sunburn (line sitting, and it had felt so good at the time…. soaking up all those evil sunrays) and with the impromptu Kung fu work out I had done with little buddy Erika, I really was suffering. Or maybe it was the miserable bed at Motel 8 too. Anyway I saw no reason to linger, got up, did the personal hygiene thing, grabbed a soda from the cooler, and pressed on out of one more motel room.

(I had fun though, there was a field trip of students at the motel, down to Ashland to see a Shakespeare play; they were from some bumf**k town in Central Washington. One of the (grayhaired!) dad chaperones was so cute and foxy, a bit like Viggo Mortenson, I was seriously tempted to invite him into my room! Ah all those missed opportunities, and all the more fun for bit of light flirting: he was slyly checking ME out too! :) Must be the hair dye, I didn't even have on make-up!)

Stories keep coming back to me. It might have been Vic or Tom who told me about the Porta Potties, but someone said they had to pee at a concert, they were standing there rocking out (with crossed legs I presume), and the line wasn't moving, they were getting antsy….. finally security comes along and says "Alreet, everyone open up the doors!" yep, they opened up, and all this smoke came rolling out in a huge tidal wave!!!!!!! LOL.

What Rebecca said, and other things kept coming back to me too, thinking on the road. I really was trying to apply it to my health, and get my cough straightened out through 4th chakra work. What are chakras, and "why the heck do we get into such silly things? Are they all BS? Or do they hold meaning on a higher or different plane? Do we just imagine it all, and have these little fantasies to keep us amused in an otherwise boring life in Mundania?" It's what any worthy art form is about, be it quilting, or music, or painting, or writing, or ballet. We are shamen when we create, reaching into the Realm of the Invisible, trying to bring that beauty back for everyone to share. Wow did Justin do a good job of that last night, he and the whole band! I don't know of any other live band that can really do that with true grace and beauty any more. If they're out there, please let me know!

Dr. Leary always said that music was to "get high on" it is about opening those doors to the world of fantasy. And leads to other realms, to lost memories, to re-awakenings. To the Land of Magic. Like Jung and his Synchronicity Effect. It triggers otherworldly events.

While we're on the subject, what is Love? Love is a funny thing, and it's truly all in the eye of the beholder. I'm a shrink and the subject of LOVE is actually one of the most discussed and sought after commodities (?) known to human kind. So here I am armed with a stack of computer maps I have printed out on this dude I haven't seen or talked to since early October, 1983: ah October Country. (Actually I saw him last in Spring 1985, but that was just the back of his head, and he wouldn't even look at me). Details are not important, but the point is, it was one of those traumatic events in one's young adult life that really scar you emotionally. He was MY Actor, standing there at age 19, suddenly finding out he had a voice, and I let him down. It was people doing what had to be done, and shoving down intense emotions for what was supposed to be a "good value system". It was people not following their hearts. And having said that, who says the "heart" is always right?

The problem with "shoving down emotions" is that they eventually come out again, or they lie there in your sub-coconscious doing all sorts of ugly things to your soul. There is no avoiding this. There is no hiding. If you can weather this storm, the psychological model is that you go on to a better old age, and happy life. So….. no fears, face your past, and don't try to ignore it. Saying "that's in the past" is a cop out, it's a lie. We all have to deal with it. Lucky is the person who CAN let go and has a wonderful life, and doesn't need to deal with unresolved issues. What really pisses me off is that I was being manipulated at the time all this happened (I was a pretty naïve young matron back in the early 1980's) and there is a lot of anger in my soul along with it. I guess my emotions about this guy were that "dead tree" I was thinking of, and that is a scary thought, eh? So the challenge is to deal with these emotions, and not do anything rash (like take pot shots at people with pistols, or slash their tires). But when you go through it yourself, you suddenly understand totally, on a gut level, where Justin has been coming from with his love songs.

What do you say to a person, a good friend that you loved so much, 20 years ago? Just "hi and how are you?" might be the best. As Justin said "It's best not to know" there is worth to that too. And how have they changed, and have they grown? Or deteriorated? (and if they deteriorated, were you the one that caused it? Or were they really flawed people to begin with? Such questions haunt one at night when the moon is full!) After my class reunion last year, I wasn't expecting much, except to find out if he lived in a rotted hippie shack smoking dope……… or if he was a solid citizen, with kids and a family. And I really wanted to do it from a distance, before I got sucked into stuff I couldn't control! (Or worse yet, piss off a jealous wife!)

Ok enough of my whining and musing. It was a VERY nice drive over to Klamath Falls from Ashland, on Route 66 (yes the same one celebrated in song, this is just West of the Rockies tho'). It's one of the prettiest "scenic routes" I've ever found. East of Ashland there is a valley full of "sweet briers" that is, wild roses. There are a lot of varieties of native roses, and I didn't have my books with me so I didn't exactly identify them well. As I climbed through the hills, the land turned into pine forests, and spectacular views of the surrounding mountains, and Mt. McLaughlin (the local volcano in the Cascadia Subduction region). Mt. M was just barely covered at the top with snow, kinda like a streaked toupee. I stopped once both coming and going, to whiz behind a tree, and to grab some lunch out of the cooler; the silence and beauty was awesome. The wind soughed through the tops of the trees, lending an eerie feel to the woods, like Beorn and his brother Bigfoot were going to come around a big rock at any minute. Sadly there was a lot of clear cutting that had been done too. It was like the Makah region, people are still ignorant, and clearing off entire hilltops to "save money" when they are actually raping an ecosystem.

After tracing out all the addresses in Klamath Falls I had associated (thru computer research) with my friend, I concluded that he is living in a wonderful area out West of town, in a rural sorta "ranch" community. People have horses and sheep on these sizable acreages. What is really wonderful is that there appears to be "natural recovery" going on. I am finding this more and more, apparently the government gives out grants to people who are doing wildlife renewal, my brother has one going in Sherwood OR, and there is another just north of there on the Richmond WA side of the Columbia River. Wild critters such as plains antelope, coyotes, and all sorts of native birds, come back into these areas. Local people encourage native plant species, and tear up all the Scotch Broom they can find (which is a hideous weed here). My friend actually seemed to have deer grazing on his property, along with sheep. And I saw a Bald Eagle flying overhead, being chased by a crow and (WOW!) dangling a snake from it's claws! It's near Klamath Lake….. really really nice area, and I actually used my binoculars for birding rather than stalking my friend!

Being a natural coward, I didn't go up to his farmhouse door and knock on it (besides, it looked like the sort of place that you might want to call ahead on, lest they set the dog on you!). But I did get bold enough to ask the local postmistress about him, and showed her an old picture. She said "It might be him, but boy did he change! He got a lot bigger!" oh dear. This happened once before…….. I looked up an "old friend" and he turned out to be really over-weight, alcoholic, and had a quadruple bypass. I guess this is what happens when all your old friends are real party hounds. Anyway, I'll call the guy up eventually this summer, I can at least do that for an old friend, a good one.

I had enough fun and games for a day, and headed back over the pass on Route 66. I had an idea to check out several quilt stores on the way back to Portland (yes I was skipping the Moodies show in Eugene) and found Quiltz in Ashland, in the heart of the downtown area which feeds on tourists and Shakespeare enthusiasts. The traffic was a little nutty, but I did glean two nice pieces of fabric, one with Renaissance ladies on it, the other with landscape. (Quilters are a little weird this way, picking up snippets of fabric here and there, kinda like wine tasting). The traffic was ugly by now, it was almost the evening rush hour; I headed for Grant's Pass, it was crowded too, so I gave up on the quilt stores, and headed for Portland. (something in me screamed too, "I gotta catch up with the tour!" Heheh). I was so bogged down, I didn't make it any further than Eugene before exhaustion caught up with me. (Remember, I am still hacking with that horrible cough, and felt terrible. Man, no energy!).

Got a room at Days Inn, and enjoyed the hot tub (if rooms are expensive, frequently they have nice hot tubs to compensate, well worth it on vacation) ……….After some food, a good long shower, and tossing back some pills (vitamins, aspirin, Vitamin E……. and a cheap allergy tablet) I sorta came back on line, and decided I would go find the Moodies and hang around the stage door. First I just took off, and wound up downtown…….. near the Hult Center, which the Moodies have played in the past. GAD they weren't here! I went back to my room (getting lost and wandering in the night) Eugene was pretty nutty, finals were just over, and it was Duck Graduation the next day, so the young people were wildly running through the darkened streets, looking for parties. Looked for the Cuthbert in the Yellow pages, and it was no where to be found. So I gave up that harebrained idea, decided I didn't belong on the streets as I was (stoned on cough drops) and fell asleep coughing my guts out. I finally developed the knack of sleeping with a cough drop sorta hanging on my tongue, and I'm shocked I didn't wake up choking to death on something I sucked down the wrong way.

I also called Maggie Clarke again (as I had from Motel 8 in Ashland) and told her voicemail my brother's name in Sherwood, she could look him up and call him. I still haven't raised her on phone, and finding her at the stage door wasn't working out very well either. Well, there was still some time.

I really hope the Moodies got to drive some in the tour bus rather than flying between shows. Justin said something at the Britt show about "how lovely it is, getting fresh air". It really is pretty country up here, and there is so much to see and enjoy on the ground level. There are still some wildflowers out, and occasionally I would pass a pretty little hillside covered with a blush of lavender peeping out of the green. Birdsong greets you everywhere you go. I love Cascadia, how could anyone not?