Debbie's Notes

Many of you may not know that Debbie Stanton, formally of Washington, is an ace note taker. For quite a while she took the minutes for the Great Places meeting that takes place at Dodici's Show on Wednesday Mornings. On one occasion we had a chance to get her actual manuscript of a meeting she attended. It clearly shows her ability to capture the sense of a meeting in very few words. Above is a parsed version for your edification.

Bread Dough

_T he day seems to be yet another day of bread making and watching the neighbor shovel his walk in a raging wind. While it has stopped snowing it is drifting, and one would expect not yet quite the time for shoveling. Be that as it may, a nice baking bread aroma would make the afternoon more conductive to web design. It is also fortunate that the gas meter is on the outside of the house so that I don’t have to watch it spin.

I wonder what is up with the people in Clam Gulch or Pickle Hill - some real world version of Northern Exposure? For that matter, is Washington some real world version of Twin Peaks? There are things here that are not covered by the local media…

The Apollonian and Dionysian forces form a vortex over the Centennial Electric Fountain, and like a spiral galaxy; arms of those forces circle about the town in waves. In the dark of night in the dead of winter you feel them deep in your bones. Purplish surges wash over you as listen to your windows rattle in the wind – is it the wind? No doubt there will be a summer in the future, but for now the Dionysian forces hold sway. As the undulations ripple through your home you have to watch that you don’t put your feet down by the couch. You have no idea what will reach out and grab your ankle. It would be a shame to be found in the spring, face down on your Pier 1 oriental knockoff. Stare out your window if you have the courage. Watch the forms dancing there in the hellish glow of the sodium vapor lights. Don’t look. The only thing to be done is to curl into a ball and suck your thumb. If the phone rings – don’t answer, it could be your worst fear, or worse, it could be the Republican Party calling about your support in 20012. They have the perfect candidate to take down the socialist commie pinkos that have ruined your tax breaks.

Just then out in the lawn you spy a figure hobbling around the light pole next to the street. In the brimstone light it looks to have been grafted together out of many parts. It has the head of Dave Duke, the hair of Newt Gingrich, the torso of Rush Limbaugh, and the hand of Richard Nixon with its finger on a red button. It reels in the ghastly light in a tattered white sheet. It is the perfect Republican stitched together for 2012. As it deregulates across your lawn your lawn, you see the phantoms of Enron and the Exxon Valdez leading a parade of zombie banks and auto industry CEOs all shuffling toward your door. Unceremoniously, pumping steroids and screaming in unison, “Bail us out, bail us out, BAIL US OUT.”

They seem to be dragging chains fashioned from oil derricks and tons of carbon. The clatter that arises from their bonds seems to say, “Less government, compassionate aid to corporate structure, save our bonuses.” Behind them you see a teeming mass of Texans driving SUV pickups detailed with enough lights and chrome to rebuild the housing market. You rush to the door to bolt it against the abomination in your yard. Before you can get there your front door crashes open and the revolting creature stumbles into your house.

It opens its mouth and a horrendous vapor is released. It swirls about your room and forms the words, “I am the ghost of the silent moral family values majority. I am here to reclaim your soul for the RNC and all that it represents.” It reaches out and touches your shoulder the room begins to swim. As you lose your grip on reality you see a button on the beast’s ragged sheet – Newt Dukebaugh 2012 Self interest is in your interest…

WHOA, I got to quit sniffing bread dough…

The Lawn Police

Officers ready themselves to break down the door of a known lawn scofflaw.

The incidence of lazy lawn care has skyrocketed in this last lawn care season. "The morals of our children are at stake," said one officer, as he slipped a clip into his AR-15. Another officer standing behind his bullet proof shield said, "The dandelion population has gotten completely out of hand, even in the south side of town. Now that's a place that we used to be able to count on." Just then the homeowner came out on his porch to check his mail.

"Hey," he said, "what are you lot doing in my yard?"

"We're here to enforce the lawn ordinance," the lead officer said from behind his shield.

"The what?" the homeowner said.

"The lawn ordinance, you've got some pretty tall grass here."

The homeowner scanned the row of cops standing on his lawn, "look, the tree cops were here last week and they told me that I shouldn't be establishing a lawn around my trees, it wasn't natural."

"We can't help what they say," the lead cop said. "Trees aren't part the lawn ordinance."

to be continued next spring...

Surf's Up!!!

The picture to the right is the ultimate in beachfront property - it's so beachfront that it's in front of the beach. If you squint you can see the rollers coming in the front door. This picture appeals to me in so many ways it's
hard to pick one to talk about. The incongruity of a tilting beach house (villa really) in the ocean begs the story of how it got into this predicament. I heard that an earthquake caused to slide into the surf, but it sounded like that wasn't the whole story. It looks more like Fordlandia story to me, at least in the hubris of the creation. If you don't know the story of Fordlandia, Google it, it's worth a few minutes. If you do, go to "Images" search; there are some great pictures there.

Last night's bread disaster is now only a bad memory - on to another loaf. We've already screwed up the recipe so let's see how this one goes. In the meantime, it's time to shift gears into birthday gift mode for friend Pam.

So until next: Hasta la bye bye from Street Level!!

Waiting for Summer

All the talk about Ben and Debbie's trip to Alaska, caused it to snow here last night. It being Friday the 13th yesterday didn't help. It just takes a couple of Spring-like days and I am looking at seed catalogs and planning the garden. All the dis-ing of Alaska aside, the Kenai peninsula looks beautiful, and it appears they have what is called a "water feature", which Washington lacks, unless it has rained a lot.

The forlorn hoops to the left look to me that they are waiting for Summer as much as I. The long - term forecast looks like it is still February until it is March. It looks like a good time to perfect bread-making or doing some stupid male project that will get out of hand and take too long. Maybe completing something already
started would be a good idea.

Hasta la bye bye from Street Level

Turning Their Backs

Pictured here are Ben and Debbie turning their backs on tropical Washington for the frozen wastes of Alaska. There is no accounting for some people. (Express your opinion now on the online survey form to your right).

It is possible by now they have phone lines in Alaska? If so, we can Skype them with some video phone calls with all the palm trees swaying in the background here in Washington. But, until that question is answered we'll just have to be satisfied with pimping them with this blog.

I will have to get back to writing the great American novel - not set in America, baking bread, graphic design, and watching the grass stay brown. So until then - from Street Level in Washington hasta la bye bye.