— this is really happening

I’ve never taken anyone to small claims court, although my Dad told me I should just for the experience of it. I’ve also never eaten shark either, although I had a sushi chef try to sneak me a few pieces inside a hand roll once. But, as of about 1 hour ago, I have joined the ranks of concerned U.S. citizens to take the plunge and "tattle" on another fellow citizen to the Oakland police department. No, it wasn’t a noise violation call or a rowdy behavior call. My call was to report the most audaciously annoying eyesore truck that has been parked in front of E’s apartment for at least 111 days (okay, maybe it’s more like 8 or 10 days).

What makes this truck so gross, and ultimately what is leading to this truck’s demise as we speak, is its logo. Observe, and don’t even try to argue with me.

chief-tucker.jpgToday’s Monday message is (and I read through the brisk October morning fog to find this one): It is okay to be a little bit evil and tattle tale on an eyesore truck that has been parked in your line of sight for more than a week. It is okay. It is okay. The folks on the other line of the Non-emergency Oakland Police department are surely nice. And they don’t make you feel an inch of guilty. They even let you anonymize the call, so no one but yo’ damn self knows who made the tattle. Thanks Chief Wayne G. Tucker and his friendly staff at the Oakland Police Department.

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The U.S. Bureau of Engraving and Printing (a shmancy subsidiary of the Federal Reserve) says the "average life" of a $10 bill whilst it passes through the Krispy Kremed, Dorito’d, Corn-nutted hands of America is about 18 months. After that, it is replaced due to wear. So here we meet the unsung hero: the Tenner, the Ten Spot, the Sawbuck (look it up), a tireless soldier of exchange that manages to legitimize countless acts of barter,  thousands of incredible bargains, and surely a fair share of shifty rip-offs. (Tom Shane, we’re watching you!)

And it’s hard to tell what $10 will get you, too. Might I recommend then, the next time you need to get your 18" tire repaired (the one with the smokin’ hoopty rims) because you ran over a nail or a staple or both simultaneously, that you head on down to Wheel Service at 31230 International Blvd. in West Oakland. There, for a quick $10 (no receipt) you can get your tire mended without having it replaced.

Now, here’s where things get important. The "exchange" of the $10 bill appears to be in service of said tire being repaired, but, what may actually be going on is that for a mere $10, you and your friend are given the opportunity to enter the Wheel Service showroom, a veritable who’s who in the hoopty rim world. For about 10 minutes ($1/minute) you are given full access to stacks upon stacks of rims.

Sit down, Ice Cube. Hello Dip spinners, Arelli lighters, Foose rollies, Mazzi LED lizards, and my favorite, Jesse James lawless chromes. The rim world is waiting for you. (Even if you drive a station wagon.)


A fine item.

$1588, really?!

Note the remote control and the choice literature.

In case your forgot, you should give your baby the best.

This little rim (about the size of a moped wheel) is $750. Let’s get it!

My Friday afternoon journey was worth every penny of that ten bucks. Aside from this post, I’m considering directing a remake of the famed "Shoes" video, but this time as an homage to rims. Anyone with me?


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Just don’t.

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prepping y’all for the bluegrass festival if you’re san francisco bound next weekend.  i will be out of town, myself.  but today i been right done bit by the bgrass bug, i reckon sho’ is righ’ cha’bet.  here’s a song for your spirit.  god bless long hair and pick guitars.

Commence the song download immediately, browser.


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Extremely quietly, a Maryland school district has launched the first public high school in the country dedicated to teaching homeland security.

First High School Dedicated to Homeland Security

Chris Colin, who wrote this short article Mother Jones, says: "From all I could tell researching the piece, this doesn’t mean questioning assumptions about national security and so forth — it means funneling 15-year-olds into a very profitable industry, and providing future workers for the companies that comprise it. Creepy/lousy."

Students will choose one of three specialized tracks: information and communication technology, criminal justice and law enforcement, or "homeland security science." David Volrath, executive director of secondary education for Harford County Public Schools, says the school also hopes to offer "Arabic or some other nontraditional, Third World-type language." The school’s main goal is to get its grads jobs in the booming $24-billion-a-year homeland security industry. It’s certainly in the right location: Northeast Maryland has become a mecca for the military-industrial complex. The Army’s Aberdeen Proving Ground is the county’s biggest employer, and all manner of defense contractors have set up shop nearby, including weapons maker Northrop Grumman

The article:



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I’ve been listening to the folky, chirping, aesthetically pleasing Sufjan Stevens for the past two days.  In particular, Illinois which actually reminds me of Ohio, for all the simple, gentle, dirty, arty industrial fellows I know from Columbus.  (God, I love Columbus.)  Sufjan’s prose rings with the swing and swallow of an old, roadside cafe along Rte. 89.  An album that salutes the American waitress — finally!  As I listen, I keep seeing the midwest’s long fields and endless roads pass in front of me.  The patriotic lullaby that subtly reminds me that it is okay to love this country, still, at times, sorta.

Well, I can’t go into depth here for the sake of time and a trip to Las Vegas in about 40 minutes, but one line in particular has poked through the pillow.  I’ve bolded it below.  I’m also not afraid to get IT right — sometimes that can be a big hitch.  Felt good to realize that.

Artist:  Sufjan Stevens
Title:  Jacksonville
Album:  Illinois
Download and listen fer yourself: http://www.monicaway.com/songy/Jacksonville.mp3 

I’m not afraid of the black man running
He’s got it right he’s got a better life coming
I don’t care what the captain said
I fold it right at the top of my head
I lost my sight and the state packs in
I follow my heart and it leads me right to Jackson

Oh Keller oh oh oh
She gave us a medal she gave us a map
Oh Canner Row, oh oh oh
If seeing is right, then look where you’re at

I’m not afraid of Nichol’s Park
I ride the train and I ride it after dark
I’m not afraid to get it right
I turn around and I give it one more try

I said things that I meant to say
The bandstand chairs and the Dewey Day parade
I go out to the golden age
The spirit is right and the spirit doesn’t change

Oh Keller oh oh oh
She gave us mirror she gave us a map
Oh Canner Row, oh oh oh
If seeing is right then look where you’re at

Andrew Jackson, all I’m asking
Show us the wheel and give us the wine
Woohoo! Woohoo!
Raise the banner, Jackson hammer
Everyone goes to the capitol line
Woohoo! woohoo!
Colored preacher, nice to meet you!
The spirit is here and the spirit is fine!
Woohoo! Woohoo!
Education, ask the nation
You gave us our sight and the hearing is fine
Woohoo! woohoo!
Andrew Jackson all I’m asking
Give us the wheel and give us the wine

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I’m rarely prone to rant about politics in this blog.  I usually leave that to dinner table debate.  Today is different, clearly.

My foot is up on the railing as I sit in my future fantasy rocking chair with a fantasy squeak, atop my fantasy front porch in the sea-swept village of Cornwall, England, appreciating the fantasy light as I look out far as I can see to the fantasy ocean breathing peaceful in the distance, while the fantasy smells of burning wood, thick grass, sea foam, and angel trumpets wave in from below.  I’m possibly late for my fantasy sculpting class with a full belly from a fantasy lunch I took in a small pack on my fantasy mid-morning walk to Shiplake Mountain.  This fantasy affords me a grand piece of knowlege.  From its vantage point years in the future, I already know who won the 2008 U.S. Presidential election, and it doesn’t really matter anymore.  What a relief.

Hehe, of course now it’s still September 2007, and I’m curious about this race.  I’ve been poised on a post about Barack Obama, Hilary Clinton and Bill Richardson for a days.  I’m wondering the question you are: Is the world ready for these three would-be’s?  Or, is their induction into the running going to rupture "our" chances and force us to endure another bundle of years by another deceiptful administration because we are trying too hard to hoist ourselves into the future by throwing two people of color and a woman into the ring against the 3000 year-old defending champion: white, priveleged man?

Before I take to answering that (which may not happen in this post), I’d like to step back and just appreciate this.  Sometimes I neglect to allow the current political positives to shine their due shine.  Sometimes, because I’m not an Assemblyman or a School Board Official or a State Sentator, I can’t immediately identify if "change" is occuring in government.  But people, government is a huge forum for change.  It indeed matters very much who is President.  (I suppose I’m saying this now to my friends who believe we are really in a dark room and nothing matters anymore.)  So yes, let’s breath in that not only is there an African American man, a White woman, and Latino man running for President, the three are getting a lot of attention and each has a chance at winning the Democratic nomination.  That on its own speaks bounds.

The forum for debate is wide.  As I type this I realize I don’t yet know what my opinion is on the matter of who would be the best candidate.  I’m gathering data though, and I’m taking my decision very seriously.   I believe it matters very much.

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