sound bytes

in the darkness
it is the silence
i miss most
the evening air
opressive
bearing the weight
of eternal noise
overflowing with
sounds of civilization
engines growl
motors race
sirens howl
mournful trains
car alarms
televisions scream
radios hiss
doorbells ring
echoing
in the canyons
of my world
reminding me
how much
i miss
the silence found
on the road
in the middle
of nowhere

F*Bombs in the Morning

Morning in San Dimas. The sky is hazy above with just a delicate wisp of brownish-grey smog clinging to the hills. Traffic on the nearby freeway is a symphony of horns honking, brakes grinding, engines purring music to an oil executives ears.

Outside my window the dogs are greeting each other with news of the evening past. The birds are singing in their sarcastic way reminding the cat why he will never catch them. And the complex is alive with the lovely sound of F*Bombs in the morning.

No I have not purchased a sattelite radio subscription.

At least if I had I could turn it off.

It seems my neighbor's son is visiting them from out of state. I do not know all the details and frankly after this mornings tirade I am quite sure that I have no desire to have the blanks filled in for me.

Suffice it to say. Said son is having marital problems. He has an assortment of children two of which are here with grandma and grandpa. The rest are back in Georgia, at least that is what I have heard.

He arrived sometime yesterday. And apparently he failed to realize that there was a three hour time difference between California and the east coast. As he was quite obviously working under the assumption that was 9:00 AM here as well as in Georgia.

The entire neighborhood woke up to the joyous sound of him exchanging four letter expletives with his beloved Mrs. And this was not a whispered conversation between two concerned adults but a conversation conducted at decibles that have been know to cause permanent damage to the ear drums of pets and young children.

Apparently my new (and I pray temporary neighbor) feels that he has been wronged. It was difficult to translate at first but it seems that not only was he using the F*Bombs in anger but also to describe what he felt his wife had been doing with everyone in town. Before you feel any sympathy for him he also in response to her admitted that yes he had been as he put it "forced to use violence" in response to her behavior which resulted in the law deciding that he needed to spend some time in a government run facility.

That was the basic conversation for the better part of a half hour before his father finally decided that he had alienated enough of the neighbors and removed the phone from his ear.

elvis and star wars

29 years ago today elvis died and i saw star wars for the first time. neither events changed my life to any great degree. i was never a big elvis fan nor do i worship at the altar of star wars. george lucas is not my guru and the force does not rule my life.

on the surface it would seem that other than being two of the big news stories of 1977 that star wars and elvis would have little in common. below the surface there may be more than meets the eye.

elvis defined a generation. once he burst on to the scene neither music nor america were ever the same.

star wars also defined a generation. once the first movie grabbed hold of the culture the movie industry and how america viewed entertainment has never been the same.

in the fifties and the sixties elvis was the true king. he set the standard that few were able to match. by the seventies he had except for brief moments become a parody of what he once was. a bloated ego where once stood a creative genius.

in the seventies and early eighties george lucas was the king of cinema. the star wars triology ruled the roost and the herd of wanna be's who attempted to match his success were mere echoes unable to go where the master had gone. fast forward to the nineties and into the new milineum. like the king lucas's bloated ego left his films little more than a parody of what they once were.

yet despite the egos and lack of later creativity both have a strong legion of followers.

29 years have passed since elvis died yet his memory lives on. his records still sell. graceland is a huge tourist attraction. and untold amounts of impersonators make a living vainly attempting to capture the essence of elvis. performing before seas of spandex a generation trying to recapture a moment in time.

star wars is no different. despite the universal dislike of the second triology the movies went on to make millions. people waited in line for weeks to see the films. books from the basic continuation of the story to ones teaching the force with reliogous furur fly off the shelves. dvd's of various incarnations of the original films including coming soon the original, original without lucas's ego infested edits. the list goes on and on.

the elvis generation and the star wars generation would seem on the surface to have little in common. except for the millions they spend each year trying to return to a time that for them at least in their memories was a time of innoncence.

a piece of home

with time to kill in indiana we found ourselves in fort wayne. visiting my friend who lived there had been postponed for at least a day. not sure what to do, i turned to the web in hopes of finding something interesting.

turns out that the Allen County Public Library has the second largest genealogy collection in the united states. that was enough to sell me.

upon arrival the one downside of the library became apparent. they were preparing to move into a new building and their temporary quarters while huge was not set up for wi/fi. this put it an immediate damper on my hopes of doing extensive research and entering it immediately into the computer.

other than that the library was a book lovers paradise. four stories worth of books with an entire floor dedicated to geneology.

for cristian there was an entire floor of childrens and teen books with tons of activities. i left him to his fun. and headed to family history heaven.

the entire floor was filled with books, microfiche, newspaper logs and computer terminals the few hours i had would not even make a dent in what was available.

so i did my best to brush the surface.

the brueckner side of the family is the one with the least amount of available data. all i knew was that at one point they came from cinncinati. i went to the ohio section and spent an hour or two looking for information on brueckner's. i found two possible connections through wedding announcements and death notices that bore further research. which will require the ordering of certificates from the state. not much but it was as a start.

without realizing hours had passed and my time was running short. so i decided to do a quick run through the california section.

there i found a treasure. a book published in 1927. History of Monrovia is the early history of my hometown. lots of cool information including the story of the great forest fire of 1924. i had never even heard of the fire. the author though presented the story in a matter of fact yet dramatic presentation. what struck me the most was that just like today the fire was caused by carelessness. a gentleman was walking with his family, paused to light a cigarette and tossed the match to the ground. he continued on his way for ten feet or so and woosh he looked behind him and fire was racing up the hillside.

i only had to travel 2000 miles to find a little piece of home.