the sting of other lives

Shes been unhappy these last few years
since beginning to work on her degree
trying to reclaim something that was lost
her unfinished childhood
her short lived freedom

She feels trapped by her life
feels the sting of other lives not lived
all the myriad possibilities she can never taste
a mockery of her spirit
firery and fluid
light and quick and carefree

Shes searching for a reason
but finds only comfort in another
the shared depravity of useless folly
the bragged and broken arrogant life
of a ruined man
brought down by the weight
of so many lives not lived

haiku for volcano and richard murdock

good job volcano
for being better than richard murdock
we like you volcano

I was about to watch the debate between President Obama and Mitt Romney, and I was a little early and there were these negative political adds on TV.  Negative adds really disturb me so I changed the channel to NOVA on PBS, or maybe it was NATURE.  On the screen was a volcano which was erupting, it was on the beach and the lava was touching the ocean water and instantly boiling it.  The cameraman went underwater in one shot following the molten lava underwater as it cooled and turned into black, very hot rock called 'pillow lava'.

I realized that nature shows are so enjoyable because they are Positive.  they say, hey look at the world and how awesome and grand it is, NOT oh you stupid volcano we hate you for existing.  I realized that there is something fundamentally, inherently, self-evidently better about building something up as beautiful and wonderful rather than pointing out how disgusting someone is.

sorry

My Jess,

I'm sorry I wasn't there for you today.  What is more I'm sorry for all the times I haven't been there, like last night and the night before, when you were getting ready to go to Antonio's party.  I know I can 'help', and that when you ask for it and its not there that is painful.

The pain is not the point. 

Me not being there, unfortunately, is the point.  I am essentially trying to do whatever it is that i want to do.  What i need to do.  What i need to do is climb.  I do not need to climb so much.  What i need to do is work.  I need to work more.  What i need to do is make sure that the children are taken care of.  What i need to do is make sure that you are taken care of. 

There is no ordering on needs.  That is, no need is better than any other need, in particular there is no ordering that says what is the first need, the second need, the last need, and so on.  They are just all needs.

Here's my problems: Right now you feel you need me.  You need to figure out a lot of stuff without me.  Without me is not alone, although that is a HARD one.  I shouldn't put needs on other people, like you.  I really, really shouldn't put needs on other people that would destroy them.  I do not like this gamble.  At all.  The problem is that for whatever reason we don't seem to be able to be around each other right now, approximately 40% of the time.  The problem is that when we shouldn't be around each other we, inevitably, are.  I understand that this is not what you are mad at me about, or at least not solely.  These are my problems.

I promise i will do my best to meet all my needs except the one where I need you to do more without me.  All other needs I will do my best to achieve; each one given the consideration all needs deserve.

Like an apology, this one really comes off more as a lecture, more of an explanation than a conveyance of regret or admittance of wrongdoing.  And for that, at least, I really am truly sorry.


L,

S

a bit of insanity

my wife is mad at me. because "i don't get her".  How mad is it that one may feel justified at being angered with a reasonable person for not understanding their insanity?

Last night i watched the children.  We've been having some serious problems of a completely new nature recently, rather big problems in my book.  But, more on that later, if ever.  Last night I watched the children, and Jess went out with friends.  I was with them all, Doug Jessica and Jess, a bit last night, but retired to my apartment (I'm living with Kyle last few weeks and for several weeks to come i imagine).  I was tired of their company, the insanity of company and the insanity of the combination of moods and persons who were present at my house last night.  So, I went home.  I read a book.

Jess called.  Can I come over to watch the kids so she can go out?  Sure.  Why not. I'll read over there.  When I get there I say, into her eyes, "you don't have to go".  Rather than the answer I was expecting, she seemed not tired and rather forced into going, but eager, excited.  I had seen this behavior and thus experienced the uneasy feeling I got from it repeatedly several months ago, but I discounted it, ignoring the fact that I had overheard Jessica talking about 'getting someone on the phone' right before I had left earlier.  After a moment, outside I asked Jess, cautiously, who was it that she was going out with.

"Oh, my friends to a bar".  Avoidance, deflection.  "Jessica and Doug have already left to go".

Well, that suited me fine.  Later find out that Justin was there too.  Not that she was alone with him, which creates all sorts of other problems for me.  Why not mention it when she was leaving?  Obvious reason #1: I might say, "fuck that", and turn my tail around and go home.  Obvious reason #2: I most likely could not have went to bed peacefully a half hour later, laying in my bed hoping Jess would come home soon to kiss me goodnight.  Completely-non-obvious-bull-shit-excuse Jess gives: I didn't think to mention it?  It didn't seem relevant?  I forgot?  I wasn't thinking about Justin at the time you asked me?

Definition: If you are reaping rewards which would have otherwise been impossible by being misleading about information that would cause the rewards to be revoked or lessened, then you are taking advantage of someone.

Axiom: Sal does not like to be taken advantage of.

Corollary: Friends who take advantage of Sal are not Sal's friends.

So, I confront Jess this morning with my pain, anger.  I tell her the cause because she is either not understanding the cause or purposefully ignoring it (another thing Sal doesn't like very much, burying problems usually leads to problem trees).  Her response, essentially: "its not like it my fault for not telling you".  What is further her response: "I'm mad at you too".  Why are you mad at me? I ask.  "For not getting me".  How mad do you have to be to feel anger at a reasonable person for not understanding your insanity?  Must I be insane to not feel the displeasure of my wife?

The path we are on is uncharted, and there are no lights.  God help us.

three things

three things:

(1) conversation can be dangerous

(2) counting is hard

and finally

(3) you're a smart cookie, you'll figure it out




(extra bonus) life is not a dream, you can't just pee anywhere you want

fuck you clown

there seems to be some confusion about the 'fuck you clown' joke, which I created in the Summer of 1997 at Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp.  I really can't believe that its never been put up here before, but maybe I can find it somewhere.  Anyway, here it goes:

There once was a boy named Tommy.  Tommy was 10 years old and Tommy LOVED CLOWNS.  Tommy's room was filled with clown stuff.  He had a clown bed, clown wallpaper, clown lamps, and a whole shit-ton of clown stuffed animals and toys.  Tommy was obsessed.  A week after his 10th birthday, his  dad took him to the circus as a surprise.  Tommy was ecstatic.  He walked right past the cotton candy and candy apples and straight into the big tent to get seats.  Once the show started, he started to get excited.  He saw the flying trapeze and the elephants and the lion tamer, but all he really cared about was the clowns.  Finally, the time came and the clowns showed up all in a tiny car and they all tumbled out.  Tommy was jumping up and down and pointing and saying "Look dad" when they hit themselves with pies and did tumbling acts.  He laughed and laughed.  It was the best day of his entire life.

Then, the head clown went to the center of the ring, a crotchety old grisly clown with face-paint that looked like it had never come off and beard stubble that looked like it never grew or was shaved.  The head clown took the center of the ring and said in a booming, scratchy voice:

"I need a volunteer!"

Tommy jumped up and down, waving his arms like mad, jumping and screaming 'oh pick me, pick me, please oh please'.  The head clown saw Tommy and decided to have some fun.

"You there, little boy, come on down," and he pointed to Tommy.  Tommy rushed down.  His best dreams were coming true.

"What's your name, little boy," says the head clown in his gravelly voice.
"My name is Tommy," Tommy peeps.
"How old are you Tommy?"
"I'm 10."
"Well, you know what? You're kinda stupid."

At this, the audience is struck completely silent.  Tommy's smile lingers for a second longer, but his eyes aren't smiling anymore.

"You know what?  You're kinda UGLY too."

At this, the audience starts to giggle a little, at the ridiculousness of it all.

"In fact, Tommy, you are an ASS FACE!"

The audience erupts into uncontrolled laughter.  They can not believe what is happening.  It is like a spell that they have all been put under.  The head clown starts to chant:

"ASS FACE! ASS FACE! ASS FACE!"

Everyone in the big tent is chanting, except of course for Tommy.  Even Tommy's dad is chanting "ASS FACE".  Tommy is crushed.  His idol, the head clown, has smashed him.

Tommy decides that he still wants to be a clown, even after the humiliating experience at the circus.  He decides that he will go to clown school.  He goes to clown school and learns all the clown tricks like how to hit people in the face with seltzer water and how to tumble and juggle, and of course, how to tell jokes.  After his 4th year of clown school, Tommy graduates and he decides that he won't be happy unless he gets back at the head clown who humiliated him.  So, he decides to go to revenge school.  He spends four years at revenge school and learns all the nasty and vile ways to get back at someone.  Now, Tommy is 18 years old and the same circus comes back to his town.  He decides that it is time to get his revenge.  He goes to the circus and walks right past the cotton candy sellers and the candy apples and all the crappy toys that they sell at circuses.  He walks into the big tent that has been set up and sits down and waits for the clowns.  He waits patiently through the elephant act, and the tightrope act, and the lion tamer, and all the other acts until finally its time for the clowns to take the stage.  He watches with his arms crossed and without showing any emotion once the clowns come out and start the show.  He watches as they all fall out of a tiny car and then hit themselves in the face with pies, and takes no pleasure in watching them juggle and tumble, but he waits patiently for the end when the head clown will make his appearance.  Finally, the head clown takes the center of the ring and he says:

"I need a volunteer from the audience!"

Tommy stands up, silently, and raises one arm into the air.  The head clown sees him and immediately recognizes him and decides that he is going to have some fun again.

"You, young man, come on down here if you please!"

Tommy walks to the center of the stage, staring directly into the eyes of the head clown the whole time.  The head clown stares right back at Tommy (who now calls himself Tom), and the tension between them is palpable.  Its so bad the the audience can feel it and becomes nervous.

"What's your name, young man?"
"My name is Tom."
"How old are you, Tom?" asks the head clown.
"I'm 18 years old."

The clown looks at the audience for the first time since calling the young man from the audience.  The rest of the audience is completely spellbound.  Somehow they sense that something epic and dangerous and wonderful is about to happen, and its about to happen right in front of their eyes.

"You know what, TOM, you're kinda stupid."

The audience starts to giggle uncomfortably, and they shift in their seats.

"You know what?  You're kinda UGLY too!"

At this, the audience begins to laugh.  Its as if the spell has either been broken or really started to take effect.

"You know what? You're an ASS FACE!"

The audience erupts with laughter.  The head clown starts to chant "ASS FACE! ASS FACE! ASS FACE!" and the whole audience chants, stomping their feet in the bleachers and screaming "ASS FACE" in unison.  All the while, Tom stares at the head clown, never changing expression nor showing emotion nor ever looking away even as the head clown waves his arms in time with the chant of "ASS FACE" which now fills the tent with its thunderous roar, waving his arms as a conductor would conduct a symphony orchestra.  Finally, the chant ends, and the head clown says:

"So what have you got to say to THAT, TOM?"

And Tom takes one short breath, raises an arm and points a single finger at the clown and says, cool as a cucumber:

FUCK YOU CLOWN

zero recall

i had a thought

it lasted for a moment

then it was gone

it changed the way i look at things, but

i'm not sure what change was made.

it's kind of like not remembering what it was like

to not know how to read

when you are a kid

this happens all the time, and you wouldn't even know it.

i mean how many times does a kid radically change his veiwpoint of the world

like on a daily basis

and when they are older, do they remember it?

the point, as if i had one, is this: think all the time,

think about lots of things, and figure a lot of stuff out,

and don't worry to write it down, or to feel bad

when you can't remember your good ideas. the point

it's not whether you recall, but just that you have stretched your mind.

"a mind once stretched never returns to it's original dimensions," I think the guy from Star Trek said that, but I'm not really sure.

coincidences, karma, death, and humor, but not in that order

i watched "no country for old men" tonight. great movie, or at least good. one thing that i noticed that instigated this blog post, it seemed as though near the end of the movie that two events involving the protagonist and the antagonist (separately) and women caused injury or death to them. the first instance of this is when the protagonist LouEllen (?) is flirting with a girl by the pool. up to this point, there has been almost no indication whatsoever about sexuality in the movie. the closest up to this point being near the beginning which is funny enough to mention:

quit your hollerin' woman, if you keep runnin' that mouth i'm a gonna take you in the back and screw ya

so anyway, this girl by the pool is flirting with LouEllen and he says, "well, i'm waiting for my wife".

"oh, is that why you keep looking out the window?"
"well, that and to see what's comin."
"you can never tell what's comin though, how about a beer?"
"i know what comes after beer,"
"more beer?" (smile)

it's left (relatively) to the viewer's imagination what happens next, *(and the editing segue to the next scene still has me a little intrigued, it is FAST, almost like it can't wait or that the previous scene somehow didn't happen). In any case, the next we see of our hero, he is toast...dead.

The second instance is of the evil villan Sugar. Apparently, he waits for the mother of LouEllen's wife to die before "visiting" her. She, along with the rest of us, had the uncanny feeling that "it" was not over yet. so Sugar tells her that he's here because he made a promise to LouEllen,

"i gave my word"
"that doesn't make sense, why would you promise LouEllen that you would kill me?"
"i gave him the chance to save you, but he chose to save himself instead"
"no, not the way you said it"
"..."
"you don't have to do this you know"
"everybody always says that" ....

in any case, in my opinion she is toast. the indicator for this is that when he leaves the house he checks his shoes. this isn't the first time that he's been careful not to get blood on his shoes or himself (see woody harelson scene or the mexican in the bathtub for 2 quick supporting scenes). in any case, as hes driving down the street after (supposedly) killing LouEllen's wife, he's in a random car wreck and completely f#&k's up his arm, with the bone coming out of the socket.

something just hit me about these two events. i mean, the whole movie is really violent, sure. but the death of the hero was a shock to me (which shouldn't have been, he really did have it coming in a reality point of view). and the car wreck was so OUT OF NOWHERE that you just have to wonder if the director/storyteller had the inclination of somehow pointing out to everybody that there is some kind of karma or justice for going out of your way to mess with girls or something. now that i think about it, these two instances were the only ones that i can think of where a feminine character was harmed (in the swimming pool scene i suppose it is the wife which is emotionally harmed, while she is actually MURDERED by sugar in the scene preceding the car wreck, which is really messed up since it somehow indicates that you get punished more for hurting a girl emotionally than to kill her???)

so, all of this also kind of reminds me about coincidences or karma in general. by coincidence i mean the things that happen to everybody, a bunch of times in a given week or day, where it just seems "too good to be true" or in other words that the thing happens in such a way that you say to yourself "there is no way that that was a natural occurrence, but must have some deeper underlying reason which i'm not aware of".

some examples:
you drive from your house to school and hit all the lights green, and as you get to campus a car pulls out of a spot right in front of your building, and as you enter your building the elevator dings and you walk in, etc.

you get in a fight with your sweetie, your mom yells at you, your dad is having a bad day, your best friend is out of town, and your pet has a bad rash and is highly irritable.

you run out of beer and its sunday. (this one ALWAYS friggin happens to me!)

Now, the thing is, i remember lots of times in my life that i've said stuff (to my dad, for instance) like..."man, this stuff is always happening, like a lot more often than it really should". Lately, i can't really say that as much, since things lately have pretty much been happening about the way i would expect them. so what is that stuff? in other words, why is it that "when it rains it pours". why does good and bad stuff seem to clump together. why do problems multiply and cause other problems?

i guess the obvious answer to this is that when problems happen, unless you deal with them fast (and even then) you end up spending more time dealing with a problem and less watching out for the potential problems. that is, when you are allocating limited resources (time) to dealing with situations that are getting out of hand (due to random fluctuations in the way things work or don't work) then you are less apt to be able to spend time preventing other problems from happening or preventing small problems from becoming big problems.

example: if you had a really long, tiring day, you don't want to do the dishes. and then since the dishes are in the sink, it's not convienient to wash the dinner pans and plates cause the sink is full. but this depresses you so you don't feel like doing anything except sitting around watching TV, and the cycle continues...

in the same line of thought, if you have a big project that NEEDS to get done, why is it that its easier to work on it when you have already been working on it. in other words, why is STARTING a big project put off to the point that it is a problem, when if you would have just started it earlier it wouldn't have been as big of a problem? wouldn't a rational, logical person know that as long as they start early their life is going to be easier? but rather than act logically, a logical person will avoid starting it (for some unknown reason). maybe im projecting. maybe im the only one who does this stuff, but somehow i really doubt it.

isn't it true that we tend to believe that everybody else is like us on some fundamental level? I mean, its just easier to imagine that most people (especially given similar circumstances, age, station, etc.) will have similar perspectives. I mean, although theoretically it is just as likely that each person views the world in COMPLETELY DIFFERENT although consistent with each other perspective, it is much easier to assume that "blue is blue" and "a tree looks basically the same to me as it does to you". it almost makes more sense, if you focus on the idea of perspective, to realize that in all likelihood everybody has a unique perspective and perhaps a completely different way of understanding the world we live in, in such a way that we are still compatible with each other even though if i could "see through your eyes" for 10 minutes i would probably go insane since what i think of as a "tree in a golden field in the sunshine with blue clouds and a fierce breeze" you would view as "clown face spinning kalidiscope with dancing pony fishermen on a pitchfork and an upside down kevin costner". maybe this is completely silly, but i think we can all agree that there's no way to actually get inside anybody's head and check out what the world actually does look like from their eyes, so maybe my theory is just as good as the "obvious" one that a tree is a tree, and a clown is a clown, funny is funny, and that's that.

speaking of funny

it seems to me that the things that are most likely to be funny have to have some basis in truth.

in other words...imagine a funny song. if you can't ill try to help. it starts out as a song should, and it leads you from a chord progression that "makes sense", with some melody and a counter-point, a simple rythum that is repeated, and so on....and then BLAMMO hits a chord that 'doesn't belong', but is just close enough that your ear can hear what was supposed to be there and also that the thing that you just heard is WRONG.

if you've never heard this kind of a musical joke, i suggest you find someone who can tell it to you, since it somehow captures a joke without words, movement (body language), or even visual effects at all. but it does pick you up, take you on a ride, set you down, and you are different for the good it did you.

but this brings up a point: what are the conditions for something to be funny? by my example one of them is this: the person listening to the joke needs to somehow understand what was SUPPOSED to happen. that is, they need to understand the TRUTH for the joke to make sense. the thing about a good musical joke, is that you don't need to know any musical theory for the joke to be funny, but only have listened to some music at some point in your life. (so as to have some kind of basic understanding of how things "usually" go)

of course, a musician would have more "available" jokes when playing for another musician.

Example: The functions party joke.
one weekend, some of the functions decided they were going to have a party and invite a bunch of their friends. the party was held at sin's and 3x+1's house. almost everybody went, there was natural log, and all the trig functions, there was polynomials of arbitrarily large degree, and of course there was 1/x (the lush!). but 3x+1 noticed that e^x was standing in the corner, moping as usual. being the nice map that he was, he went up to e^x and said, "hey e^x, why don't you integrate yourself into the party," to which e^x replied, "it wouldn't matter".

now, if you get the joke AND you think it's funny, then there is a very good chance that you are a nerd and/or a mathematician (probably just and needed there). if you got the joke and didn't think its funny then you need to lighten up, and if you didn't get the joke then you need to take calc I. in any case, there is a point to this...

a joke has some kind of "background" or foundation which is the setting for the joke (music/math, etc.) and the listener needs to have a knowledge of the "background" for the joke to even have a chance of being funny. but what else is needed for the joke to be funny... why are some jokes funny and then you change them a little bit and then they're not funny anymore?

timing! i'm not sure exactly how this works, but the timing is very important. even if you have heard a joke before, and you know exactly what's going to happen (sometimes this even makes the joke better), so long as the timing is good, the joke will be funny. what is timing you ask? that's a lot harder for me to wrap my head around, but i think it's probably somebody else's job anyway.

one night before cristmas, several years ago, i was laying in bed and i had my eyes closed, and was rubbing my eyes and saw something like a laser beam flash across my eyelids. i opened my eyes and tried to find the laser beam. it wasn't "real" in the strictest sense of the word. but i found it nevertheless. i had to focus a lot (mentally) but i was able to bend that laser (it was like a spaghetti noodle the way it didn't want to be looked down straight), but as long as you got it right down your eye, if you looked down the center, you could hold it there. inside that laser red light, i saw a bunch of floating heads of girls. probably they were all about my age. i purposely didn't look for my girlfriend. i introduced myself to the floating heads and said "if you ever see me in real life, you should say hi and flirt with me". sometimes it works, i probably got to about 2,000 heads or so, but i've never been able to replicate the laser. i'm sure that my wife was one of the heads, though, since there is really no other reason i can think of that she should have thought she was going to marry me when we first met, i was a pretty strange ranger. my old best friend said that she was the only one who was able to make me less of a nut, and for that i guess i should be thankful. this kind of reminds me of an idea about the way that people don't really change that much even from being little little kids, unless something hugely dramatic/damaging happens. but i guess i can save Something for a later day, i guess i'll leave you with this:

i remember the first time i could read. i was on a bus in the city, going to school with my dad. i was looking out the window and i realized for the first time that i could understand that that sign said "cigar". i said, "dad! that says cigar!" i kept it up "hey! that says pizza!", "sale! that says sale!", and so on. there wasn't a long boundary period, but for that short time i distinctly remember that i was able to comprehend what it meant to NOT know how to read. that i could STILL look at the signs as though i DIDN'T know what they said. anymore, i can only guess what i could have thought if i didn't know how to read when i look at a sign. just like i can't fully appreciate what it means to have the thoughts of a child. without the math, the logic, the music, the knowledge of art, economics, philosophy, war, chaos, love, pain, (but not grammar nor spelling). to be innocent intellectually. one time, i asked my mom, "mom, where do all the giants live"

"what giants hunny"
"all the giant people"
"what giant people, dear"
"well, im small, but you are taller than me since you are older, so the people that are older than you must be taller still, and the people older than them must be really tall...giants! but i haven't seen any, where do they live?"

yes sal, where do they live...where indeed.

that smell

i was driving a lot the last couple days. we had spring break, and i went to a cool waterpark where I got to surf on this big thing called a "flowrider", and i visited my old town and got to play video games, i worked for my dad, and i went to a few great restaurants. but that's for another time...

i was on my way to my dad's, after dropping of j. and m. at my mom's place. i was speeding, a little too fast. doing 68 in a 55 apparently. so when i saw the cop pulling into the turn around in front of me, i knew he was for me. he didn't leave much to the imagination since he put on his lights early enough before i passed him that there was not much of a chance to think anything else.

i always get tickets, and never warnings. j. is cute, so when she gets pulled over, you better believe that she gets a warning. as an aside, one time when she was going like 25 over the limit, she got pulled over and the cop was like "look, i'm really sorry but I just can't let you off with a warning". you know you got it good when the friggin cop is apologizing to YOU for having to give you a ticket!

anyway, the cop came up to the passenger window, so that he didn't get creamed by a passing car, i'd imagine. i rolled down the window, which is only possible since i was in my mom's car. maybe this is a good time to mention that my moms car is stinky with lingering cigar smoke from her husbands bad habit, stinky from hay and barn smells from my moms job working for $10/hr cleaning cow crap, and that the backseat was filled to the ceiling with junk. old cups, things she picked up at thrift stores, garage sales, gift shops, extra clothes, blankets, picture frames, boots, old recipts, old mail, ....

so the cop comes up to the window and i roll down the window... license and registration and proof of insurance ... can't find the shit in my moms car, man this sucks ... can you step out of the car ... that's weird ... come back here to my cruiser , here sit in the passenger seat ... oh shit, wtf man ... son, do you smoke?

"what, like cigarettes?"
"..."
"i smoke cigarettes, but I don't have any on me right now"
"the reason i ask is that i smell marijuana in your car"
"what? no way, there is no pot in the car sir."
"o.k., well, it smells as though you have been smoking marijuana."
"sir, there is no pot in the car, i have not been smoking pot in the car, there is nothing in the car sir"
"well, we'll see"

by this time i'm not exactly freaking out, but i'm not exactly not freaking out either. the good news is, there really is nothing in the car and i have nothing to worry about. you would think that this situation was humorous, maybe, or maybe not. it does get better, though...

"10-niner fourty-seven, radio dispatch is there any units in the area?"
(radio responds in chalie brown type squelches)
"i'm going to need a two-niner-one on 24 near route nine"
(10-4)

so i'm just sitting here, thinking how stupid this whole thing is, i'm considering where i was headed (to go work for my dad), and how i probably shouldn't speed, and things like this...

"you might as well just tell us where it is, because we are going to find it"
"sir, there is nothing in the car, i haven't been smoking, there is no pot in the car sir"
"when i walked up to the car I could smell marijuana,"
"sir, my mom's husband smokes cigars, maybe that is the smell that you are mistaking for pot"
"i know the difference between cigars and marijuana smoke"
"sir, there is no pot in the car, sir"

he goes back to writing my speeding ticket. a few minutes later a cop with his cruiser lights on pulls behind the cruiser we're in, the hwy cop comes to the window, and our captor asks him...

"go up to that car and tell me what you smell"

without responding, the hwy cop walks up to the passenger window, which is still open, he takes off his hat, sticks his head entirely in the window. he holds in there for a few seconds. when he comes out he has a slightly displeased, pensive look on his face. he doesn't move for a moment, deciding apparently what to do at this point, does he smell anything?

nope, can't decide, better go around to the driver's side for a better whiff. takes off his hat, puts his head in that side. comes out, walks to the window of the cruiser our hero currently occupies the front passenger seat and our hero's captor sits still writing out the ticket, not looking up, not even questioning the outcome of his request...

"somebody been doing a hit?"

i look up, the hwy's countenance is jovial, amused, friendly, not oppressive.

"no sir, there's nothing in that car", then, our captor,
"he says that he doesn't smoke anything at all and that there is nothing in the car"
"sir, i said i smoke cigarettes"
"..., now your changing your story, "
"no sir, " im a little mad, if you know me you might understand "i said that i smoke cigarettes, but that i don't have any right now"
"well," the hwy says "we're gonna find it, so you might as well just tell us where it is"
"sir, there is not any pot in the car sir, there is nothing ... in ... the ... car."

the hwy walks to the car, opens the passenger door and sticks his torso in the car. as i sit in the passenger seat of our captor's cruiser. i think about some moderately random stuff. i think about what the chances are that they actually do find something in the car. after all, i give it a 99.9% chance that my mom doesn't have anything illegal in the car, but... i think how mad i would be if she sent me out with a dirty car ... i think 'what should i be acting like right now', probably i should just act like i am, am i fidgeting ?

"you might as well just tell us where it is, we're going to find it"
"sir, there is nothing in the car"

well, theres all that crap in the backseat. earlier i was thinking about cleaning it out for my mom, but now i realize that these two guys are going to be looking through all of my moms crap if they want to search the backseat. i almost smile, but not quite. actually, this is kind of funny if you think about it, maybe if you don't know what a full backseat of junk (i mean FULL, like definately up to the back of the headrests) ...

here we go... i think to myself

the hwy has just finished searching the front seat, both sides, he walks around to the back door, opens it and whad do u kno, a pair of socks, a green plastic planter, a small gift of unknown origin fall out of the car as he opens the door. i'm having trouble thinking of anything but how funny this is, im tempted to make a joke to the cop sitting next to me, but of course that is unwise, i tell myself maybe i should have wagered the cop that if they didn't find anything then i shouldn't get the speeding ticket.

it doesn't take long for the cop to give up on the backseat.

he stands up, looks at our captor, still sitting in the drivers seat next to me, and he shakes his head in defeat. i won't be bothered about that anymore.

well, to wrap up, they let me go after we chatted for a moment,

"what is all that stuff in the backseat?"
"that's my moms stuff"
"what is it all?"
"its junk."
"does she have animals?"
"oh, you mean the straw and stuff in the trunk? she has a job that she takes care of some cows"
"well, somebody has been smoking, not you, but somebody"
"sir, i hate to keep disagreeing with you, but nobody smoked pot in that car, you are probably just smelling the cigars that my moms husband smokes...maybe the smell of the hay too"
"well, maybe her husband smokes the 'roll your own' cigars"
"sir, i really doubt that he smokes pot, i really don't think so"
"well, you are free to go, here's your ticket"

godammit.