...
And nobody was smoking or drinking essence of Clint Eastwood coffee… but it was a darn convivial time. And, no, I did not give anyone any shit about buying up my childhood stomping grounds and turning the place yuppie. I was practically the model of good manners. Practically. For me. And I think everybody there was actually, genuinely, a good person who wants the truth and to make it good.
I want to look at these people snake-eyed, but I went zen in my car the other day about thirty miles down the road from my house. The police didn't rankle or frighten me. Nothing that is awful in the abstract or in the actual actually is interfering with my frequencies, after a couple months of being a frazzled wreck of happy and apprehensive, and generally of the cast of mind to be snake-eyed at furners on my native turf.
Turns out I like them all. No. I really like them all. Actually. I love them, and I had a wonderful time. Fields of singing and giggling buddhas fanning the ethers on me enjoying myself with a bunch of people I'd never met before. On top of fabulous clean healthy nutritious actual food, there were wine and beer and wheat grass juice, and a frickin' awesome dessert that I could actually eat because the pie crust was coconut flour and ground pecans.
I encountered kale chips! They're tasty. They're weird. I realized my changed eating habits have left me in such a state as to be able to go away from the food tables and mingle. It isn't that I'm a pig. It's that my body is usually prompted to feel as though I'm about starved to death whenever there are tables bearing food. So, since childhood, I was always first attracted to the food tables and then I could enjoy the other people.
I mean, actually, I hate parties. I only ever went to one about once every five years, just not to lose form completely. Like when I was trying to remember to have a drink once a week so I wouldn't be such a damn cheap date. I'm not anti-social. I just don't like that many people's energy pressing on me simultaneously. I can't complain about that from today. And I'll be seeing most of them next weekend too.
Catherine Austin Fitts and Bonnie Faulkner are just as marvelous in person as they are on the intertubes. And it was amazing to be around people, human meatspace people, who were all talking about things I talk about here all the time.
[No. Really.]
[The concept is unique, I know.]
So, anyway, I was left driving back to Stinson Beach from Nicasio with a head full of stuff to say. The nightly movie experience with my old "normal" friends is about to begin and nobody's near bed yet, so I will have to get back to you freaks on that later.
always and any time
