SPAM Festival!

Yesterday was 101 degrees in Shady Cove, Oregon. Pretty warm for this neck of the woods. Thankfully there is the Rogue River, which seems continuously freezing throughout the years four seasons. It was also the day of the 13th annual Shady Cove Spam Festival. Vendors and establishments from throughout the region set up shop with various booths and activities. From the dunk-a-state farm agent, to the largest salmon and steel-head held by the fish hatchery in a giant tank (which i had the pleasure of helping fill with water, and the 30 lb fish, from the delivery tanker).
I do work at and around the Upper Rogue Community Center, in Shady Cove, so we were kept quite busy setting up various stalls, tables, & most importantly, the community center's own raffle/event; The Duck Races. We drove fence-post stakes into the riverbed offshore and attached floating 6" diameter pipe, roughly 100 yards long, in a V shape. The ducks are "released" upstream atop the V. Then a catch tube inserted at the bottom of the V. This traps the first 10 numbered ducks, and prizes are awarded. It was a great day with thousands of people coming through, and a great band of elder rockers called "The Renegades".
A 17 year old kid caught one of the huge fish as they were released, Breaking the fish & game warden's previously announced rules. Faced with a hefty fine if he was to unhook, and land the fish, he wisely popped the leader line and waved a sad goodbye, as that nights bbq swam away.
Then I accompanied my bassist and guitarist to a garage in an undisclosed locale and rocked out till midnight, punctuated by discussions of the illusion of time.
Great day.

Another Day, Another Trip

I came up to Prospect, OR on friday. I have a travel trailer at one friends house and a band room at another friends house, so what could go wrong? Nothing. Everything went right. There is a big burly logging fellow whom i took a 5 gallon gas can from while i was in an alchaholic blackout over a year ago. Now see, i didnt even know i had done this thing. So i spent the first part of my stay getting a new 5 gallon gas can, and filling it with gas and returning it to this guy personally. Better late than never is true. I was a bit scared to face the music, but after all, he shook my hand and thanked me. Good feeling having layed to rest an old worry. Even if its just petty, it can fester in your heart and mind.
Im still in Prospect, Monday now. Been rocking out up here and helping my friends straighten out their property and get some yardwork done.

What i miss most about home: My own Coffeepot.

Peace, Love, Dopamine

Oh yeah, got the trailer as clean as the day i got it too.

Lovin' Spoonful

Im glad im a member of the "Chickabooms travel plan". I got to attend a BBQ, a carshow, and a concert all in one evening, thanks to my dear friend. Talk about a trifecta, i had a blast.
I even ran into one of my band-mates there. Small world. Lovin Spoonful performed one set after the opener, and we stayed till the end.
Good times.

What Am I?

What am I?
A brain encased in this humanoid vehicle?
A collection of experiences?
A field of consciousness bound to the wifii receiver located behind my eyes?
A slave to ancient neuro-chemical reactions?
A pattern recognition engine?
An semi-efficient arrangement of quanta, particles of an unfathomable nature?
The same particles that comprise the sun, the sea, & the air?
Am I the sum of all these things?
Do they exist within or without?
or both?

2 Days in the Valley

I returned to Shady Cove today, after three days and two nights in sunny N. California. Had a wonderful time, helped get some work done and had my very own Tempur-pedic couch to sleep on. (Like a cloud i tell ya.) I never got to the wine glass trick.

Situated right on the klamath river, i took a token dip in Beaver Creek, one of the Klamath's tributaries. A token dip, to be sure, for the water there is chilly. But a dip, full submersion, nonetheless. Chickabooms recorded me juggling rocks and im gonna make a video of the drive clips i recorded. Met a former concert pianist, great people, had a great time.

Top O' The Mornin

After being wasted for a decade, im finding newfound excitement in everything i do. After a year of slowly but surely forcing myself to do the opposite of what i desired, i eliminated alot of my bad habbits, and what else; after a year my mind has reawakened. They werent lying when they told me that your brain really does produce all the wonderfull chemistry that we try to simulate with drugs, all by itself.

Im approaching each day without judgement, and await the sun with curious exitement. I feel like im in a choose your own adventure novel

Aint life grand?

Gotta' Keep Writin'!

Im supposed to write every day. Practice makes perfect, and quantity produces quality etc..etc.. ad naseum.


Soldiers of Apocolypse
By Ryan Drake

I marched right into the fire this time
Put my head into the lions mouth with a grin
Once again i stand at the place
The center where all roads meet

Father, father, the sleeper has awakened
once again. Can you see?
Can you see the lines leading me?
the infinite possibility?
scenes of life i have passed by,
scenes i' am marching toward

There is danger ahead! What are we waiting for?
Danger ahead! I'm charging in for some more.
They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Fuel for the fire in the engine wont burn much longer

Safe Zones, they mean nothing to me
I'm broken, shattered, laughing merrily
Dancing in the fire all night long
The flames tongue laps at me, singing a song

Marching right into the fire again
Going to fight a battle i know that i cant win
With a wicked leer and a battle cry
We'll charge right in, I was born to die

God, he gave this sword unto my hand
I will spread his fiery song across the land
We are all soldiers of the apocalypse

Go Drunk, Your Home

Go Drunk, Your Home.
a poem, a joke, a memory
by: Ryan Drake
(I saw go drunk your home, a name of a chatroom here & wrote)

Go drunk, your home
we don't need hear you no more
you've been wizzin on the ficus again
you'd better draw up your drawers
go drunk your home

Don't cry to me, lament your woes
I didn't hide your keys, go drunk your home

You drank the Jose, mexi-cali blues
you drank the whiskey, pissed in my shoes
Nothing left to do friend, don't whine and moan
don't take another step,
go drunk your home

We've closed the last bar
We've been run out of town
We've smashed up our ford
Had the cops chase us down

We've finished each night
each night stands alone
Now ya need stand no longer
Just go drunk, your home

A Stream of Thought, an Ocean of feeling

Today, like on countless days before, I crossed the bridge in Shady Cove, Oregon that spans the Rogue River. Today I stopped, took a couple pictures and some video. The weather here moves fast, and the clouds were vanilla, and beautiful. I had a flash at the speed of thought, memories of crossing the bridge, and all the varying feeling and emotion that I had carried with me each of those times. The times for drugs, the times for work, and of course the times for love. All times, to be judged, or left sitting, abject lessons to my present Self. Someone began on the footpath, from the opposite side of the bridge. I could not see her face yet, but the sunglasses were there. Difficult to read people from afar, especially when they are in hiding.
I thought of all the logic, fear, love, thought, emotion, everything; that people have carried across this bridge. Then i thought of each emotion like a stream of data, copied by the river, and carried away, streaming to mix with an entire ocean of feeling & memory, for as long as the waters flow.

Sleep & the domino effect

I had such an epic weekend, i didnt realize how tired I was. Three day weekends kinda sneak up on ya. I woke up at 3am today, and have been re-crashing every few hours, throughout the day.
I did manage to ride across town and visit Bolt, one of my favorite woofs.

(always listen to your woof, theyre alot smarter than us in many ways.)

I guess 8 days a week really is a tad much.
"on the 8th day the lord said Holy $%!^! its monday?!?"

party on