Hot City Diary: Day of the Radio

It's the only thing that still works.  The 1985 radio is playing a tape right now.  One of my mixed tapes.


We're shut down in the desert.  The satellite dish melted or maybe not the dish but something important cooked and the TV is busted now.  I do still have all my Cosmos saved and Alaskan TV shows.  It's fucking THURSDAY!  I'm gonna get stoned and lose myself in Alaska.  Those guys and gals are super independent and great hunters.  I remind myself to go hunt down at Trader Joes later today.  I need to buy some food.


It's blistering out.  Horribly hot.  The kinda heat that  make's water taste like your Mom's cookies.  Water tastes soooooooo good on a hot day like today.  Throw some ice in that glass and POW!  Better than any cocktail.

One of the managers was saying the other day that there is a heat advisory in full effect for the next two months and that we need to drink water.

Water.

It's the only way to survive out here.  Hydration.  H2O.  Hydrogen and Oxygen.  Can't we double or triple up the hydrogen to my oxygen.  How about H6O.  How about that.  That's the only way to survive in the desert.

Suddenly the backyard patio comes apart into atoms, and dances a little to the radio and then put's itself back together again.  I can't be outside anymore.   I'll just have to smoke in the house from now on.  I've been in the sun too long and I'm starting to see things.  The world couldn't have possibly come apart into atoms and then danced and then rearranged themselves.  Next the dog might come apart, and we don't want that.


Stay hydrated is the only rule.  None of the other rules matter because you'll go mad.

The tape stops playing, it's melting a little and i rush to take it out of the tape deck.  I stick the radio in the cooler and let it sit for a while to cool down. Losing the radio would be another lost tie with the outside world.  My smart phone and tablet burnt out.  Internet is spotty at best.

I take the radio out of the cooler and tune the AM channels to see if I kind find anybody.   I find two channels.  The first channel is a woman who is looking for her cat.  She is also sending out good vibrations and has water for anyone that needs it.  She's located on Paradise Way.  The big house with the walls made of solar something.  The second channel is a man who needs help, he needs some water.  The woman on the first channel talks about him a bit, about how he doesn't know we're listening so he doesn't give us his address.  It's a tragedy playing out on the radio.  Then I realize that I don't have any stations on the AM dial.   I roll up and down the dial and nobody.  My Cat woman is gone and the dying man is gone, too.  I must have either lost them or who knows If I was listening to anything but the thoughts in my own head.  Am I going crazy? I should go get a drink of water.

I flip the radio to FM and tune in KMET.  Rock-n-Roll starts to play.

Hot City Diary: Day 142

I'm standing in the shallow end of the pool with my sombrero on and I'm trying to stay cool.  It's only 107 today and that's good stuff for July.  Usually it's up in the One Teens.  The pool water in the shallow end is about 94 degrees.  It's hot.  I swim into the deep end, where I soon find myself treading water.  It's not that difficult.  I keep my head above water and navigate the hoses from the BarracudaV2400 and the pool animals.  It's a tad windy, which makes it a little more bearable, but not really.  I realize my joint is out and paddle to the love seat by the jacuzzi waterfall and light it again.  I few moments go by and I realize I've lit my sombrero on fire and it's going like dry brush.  Holy shit.  I duck underwater but the chinstrap puts me in a choke hold and I end up dragging the hat down to the bottom of the pool with me.

It's nice down here at the bottom.  I hold my breath and now that I'm just floating there, the sombrero floats there, too just a few inches from the top of my head..  A quarter of its burnt.  I turn it so it faces the back and then come up for air.  The hat is soaked, so I lay it out on the cement to dry and it starts to do so immediately.

Such a good hat, it had come from Mexico in the 90's and had so many adventures.  There was even some kind of secret compartment in the hat, that was so secret that I forgot where it is.

The dog has been eating cockroach traps and getting high on the poison.  She's freaking out right now and running around what's left of the grass.  She get's so high she'll jump in the pool sometimes.  This time she just runs back into the house and slides along the tile floor.

I grab a beer from the cooler and make my way back out to the pool.  I grab the hat which is dry already and put the burnt part toward the back and walk into the pool.  It's nice.  It sparkles.  Instantly it cools the body down.  The head should be submerged as much as possible to keep the brain cool.  It's hard to keep it underwater, but I'll try to take a swim around the deep end every ten minutes, just to keep it cool.  I'll leave the hat floating at the surface and then try to come back up into it.  Keeping my sunglasses on.  It's quite a feat.

Viva La France

It's hot.  It's 108 out.

The pool sparkles or at least it does in my dreams.

The heat keeps it 90 degrees.

Hot City Diary: Day 91

Sticky loves the night life.

She loves to boogie on the dance floor, and then run back over behind Koffi and use all kinds of meth with Michael.  I clock in and make the mistake of walking through the bar and she is standing next to the door and spots me and gives me a great big hug.  Yuck.  She's already without her shoes.  Usually that doesn't happen until after midnight.

I've got work to do, so I run to the front desk.  Well, I don't run, but I kinda jog to get away from Sticky.  She smiles big and stays in the bar for the time being.

Nothing happening at the front desk except some people wanting to buy cigarettes.  They want to know whats the diff between Blue or Yellow?  "I don't know," I say, "They all give you cancer." They buy some Marlboro lights.

Then Sticky comes in.  She wants to know how much the hotel logo tote bags are?  I don't tell her just yet.  She starts to ramble on about how the garbage bags she has keeps falling apart.  Into the merchandise closet I go, and I find 2 different tote bags and bring them out on the display case and lay them out really nice.  I don't show Merchandise to anyone on my shift, I'm usually too busy running numbers and printing reports and working it out so I tell prospective customers to please either buy online or come back during the daytime.  I don't have time for this shit.  Do I have sandals in european size 40?  I don't fucking know.  But tonight, for Sticky who says she is going back to Santa Cruz tomorrow because she was just out in the desert to see the doctor and THIRTY FIVE DOLLARS?  EACH? I do.  Sticky goes on to tell me that she doesn't get her disability check until the first.  She get's paid twice a month on the first and on fifteenth and that's just too much money to spend.  I hand her a couple clear garbage bags and she thanks me and talks about great hospitality.

She's been pretending to eat and drink at the bar and she'll dance a little too, that's the crowd on a Wednesday, homeless meth freaks pretending to buy stuff.  She complained earlier to the hotel manager that security embarrassed her in the bar by saying out loud and really loud, by the way, where everyone could hear, that she was caught sleeping in the hotel restaurant the other day and is homeless and can't afford a drink or food and where is it by the way?  She thought that was embarrassing, but now she's back 2 hours later after the shift change and she's dancing.

The overnight security is a little more lenient.  He's not going to kick her out.  "She's not hurting anybody," security says, "and she's not jumping at people like Michael does, so just leave her be."  She get's to dance the night away, and run back and forth from the meth camp and sell sex for drugs.

I need a shower, or maybe I'll just jump in the pool when I get home.

Well, she's gathered her things into the garbage bags I've given her and puts them outside the lobby door, surrounding the ashtray.  It's like a huge pyramid of homeless belongings that now encompasses the ashtray. She comes back in and sits on the couch and pretends to be a hotel guest.

This is why I like Sticky.  This next part.  So, a very well mannered woman from Europe comes in and wants to know if I could find some birthday candles.  It's a special celebration and she would appreciate it.  I tell her I'll be right back and I head off to scour the hotel. During that time, Sticky realizes that she's in a 22 day old dress that is made for a 22 year old and her hair is crazy and she's not wearing shoes and there's nice clientele at this hotel and she leaves.  I don't have to tell her.  She get's it.  She doesn't even say goodbye, fucking Sticky.

Hot City Diary: Day 90

It's honestly too hot around here.  How can it be in the 100s already?

Work was mediocre, but the best part is dinner.  Here's a pic.

Hot City Diary: Day 84 & 1/2

Summer of 2014 - California Desert

I wake up from my daytime sleep and Washed Out plays on the computer radio.

It just finished raining and is still pretty muggy right now.  It never rains here.  Houses in the desert don't even have rain gutters.  I must be dreaming.  I wander around the house and try to dream up a great breakfast but nothing happens.  I try to use my mind to move objects.  Nothing happens.  So, I walk outside and see that the yard has been watered and the full effect of the rain on the desert.  The landscape looks satisfied for the first time since I've lived here.

Little fluffy clouds float thru the sky.

I float around in the pool on the turtle floatie.  Can you pass me another beer?  It's 90 out.  I never thought I'd say this, but 90 is perfect!

This certainly is strange weather.  Wouldn't that be great if climate change would bring a tropical climate to the desert?  That's probably not gonna happen for at least another million years.  Kind of a long time off.

I saw on house hunters international somebody buy an Italian apartment for $15K.   I miss Shelly.

Hot City Diary: Day 84

Oh gawd no.  It's 4:04 am.   Here she comes again.  She's all over this end of town this week.  She'll be gone next week, and we won't see her for maybe another month or so.  There's a system to this madness.  That's the sad thing, you'd think that if you're living the wild west dream then there should be no systems and you could just do whatever you want, but you can't.

My co-worker with all the curves is naming her Sticky.  She is unhealthy skinny and walks with a limp.  Sticky has to use the bathroom.  Can Sticky have a glass of water? Sticky wants to wander around in the bar for a little while, is that okay? No? Okay.

She doesn't have her shoes the next time she comes in.  Sticky wanders around the lobby for a little while and does her little tap dance and soft shoe routine until we look up and then she wants to know if we've got matches.  Does anyone have a lighter?

Sticky walks across the street and hangs out in the bus stop for a little while.  She also goes over to the coffee shop next door to see what the rest of this weeks meth campers are up to.  They've set up shop for the evening and most other evenings in the atrium that's hidden from the street by a small wall so the police have to make an effort and drive over and look, which they do and then it's time to move camp for all the happy campers.  But not yet this week.  Things are bustling at the camp.  Micah is there and he's brought the good stuff from downtown.  Sticky wants a couple more grams.  She's gonna pay for it half money half sex.  Which is just a little weird cuz Micah is in his 20s and Sticky is in her 50s but looks 70.  Whatever.

After all the hot meth sex, Sticky makes her way back to the hotel and asks for another glass of water.  Sticky wants to buy some cigarettes and the money looks gross.  Sure $14.50 please.  Hotel cigarettes are a killer.  Sticky needs a plastic bag if we have one, I rip her off a piece of housekeepings stash and she leaves, after checking out the magazines on the table.

The night is quiet at the hotel.  It's 91 degrees at 5am.

All the reports have been finished and security has come around to shoot the breeze.  We get to talking about the homeless and the drug fiends and how they say they want food but if you buy them food then they get all upset.

That's when Sticky comes in one last time and says she think she broke the clasp on her necklace and wonders if someone can put it back on around her neck.  My co-worker helps her out.   Sticky makes her way to the door and turns around and thanks everyone for the great hospitality and wants us to know that things are great and not to worry about her, but we were very nice.  We wave and say goodbye, my co-worker and I.  Security puts on a sour face.

Soon the sky starts to brighten and things are really looking great at the hotel.  The regular hotel guests start to move around the compound.  The sun has sent most of the night creatures, only the really dumb ones still wander the street with the hordes of joggers and bicyclists with righteous stares, staring them off into a shady motel.

Hot city diary: Day 145

Heat wave.  110+ all week.

It's hard to sleep.  It's Uncomfortably hot.

Hot City Diary: Day 131

It's the same thing everyday.

Here is a list from synonym.com

baking, baking hot
blistering, blistery
calefacient, warming
calefactory, calefactive
calorifacient
calorific
fervent, fervid
fiery, igneous
heatable
heated, heated up, het, het up
hottish
overheated
red-hot
scorching
sizzling
sultry, stifling, sulfurous, sulphurous
sweltering, sweltry
thermal
torrid
tropical, tropic
white, white-hot

Hot City Diary: Day 130

The house is an unsettling oven without any kind of air system.  It will cook us alive if we're not careful.  

All the shutters must be 100% closed.  I use duct tape to make sure that they stay closed.  The shade inside the house is important.  If the inside of the house doesn't know it's daytime out, then we're safe.

I know it sounds crazy, but it's true.

I've been buying fans from people on Craigslist and have quite a collection now.  The air is being circulated around the house at tremendous speeds if we click it to high, but most of the fans are turned on medium.  

So, nothing from Shelly and on that note, the girl I was fucking at work wanted to move in and I said "Yes" but she came over yesterday and saw the state of the house and asked if maybe I wanted to come and live with her.  I told her I couldn't abandon this ship just yet.

The pool is not looking good, either.

Hot City Diary: Night of the Mega Moon

It's hot out.  Who knows how hot.

I stayed inside all day, trying to sleep through it.

Now it's nighttime.  The moon is bigger than god.

Hot City Diary: Day 128

Clear baby blue skies.  Again.  Temps in the low 100s'.   Everyone loves the low 100's.

I decide to move the computer from the office into the living area with the TV and combine the best of both worlds.  I've set up shop in the dining room and soon I'll just set up the army cot and not have to go into the back rooms where it's too hot.

I might have forgot to mention that the Swamp Cooler caught fire a couple days earlier.  I didn't notice for half an hour.  Until the neighbors saw the smoke and now that's a thing.  Neighbors love to linger out front while walking the dogs and tsk-ing and naysaying even more now.  My dog barks at them.

It's dark.  The computer and TV are the only sources of light and the bugs that have gotten inside are fluttering up against the screens.  I swat at them every so often, but rarely hit anything.  I give up.  It's hot.

It's just too hot.
You've got to move it and shake it and give it what you got.
It's so hot.  It's hot and the tile is cool so we sleep on that.  There is visible signs of mold in cabinetry and on the wall opposite the swamp cooler.  What a fucking mess that swamp cooler made.  I'm going to dismantle it and use if for parts to make a robot.  Something that can water the plants.  Someone to play cards with.  Things are going downhill fast.  Still nothing from Shelly.  She must know.  I'm screwed.

TV is flickering and the screen saver from the computer is throwing off a blue-ish light.

Hot City Diary: Day 113

Same thing today.  Blue skies and hot as an oven.  I emailed Shelly yesterday to set up a skype call but she hasn't written back yet.  Maybe she already knows.  Great.

Hot City Diaries: Day 124

It's the same thing eveyday.  Baby blue skies and hot as an oven.

I'm a wreck.  I can barely write this as my right hand has swelled to a grapefruit and my toe is still tender and bleeds every now and then.  

Hot City Diaries: Day 120

The dog has been on the table in the back yard.

The pool has turned cloudy at the very bottom.  That's where the ghosts' live.  I still jump in to swim around but I don't dare swim to the deep parts.  The water is cool and fresh with a little algae. 

The dog stays on the table because the cement is just too hot for her when she comes outside to watch me swim. Sometimes just catching a breeze and smoking a cigarette in the shade can be better than hanging out in the house all day.  The smoking area is hot and you can only smoke one cigarette at a time during the day and then get back inside.  Or else you'll get cooked!  There's no good reason to leave the swamp cooler in the house.  It's cool and wet and things are getting swampy.  Some of the furnishings are growing mold.  It's been about a month now.   

I'm going to have to do something about that.  I might have a lot more time now because I got fired from work.  The official reason for termination was having sex with a co-worker on property on a shift.  It was hot and maybe the right thing to do.  I might have found a second wife.  My first wife is gonna kill me when she finds out.  I don't know if she will come back once she finds out.  This will be the talk of the town.  Stupid small town talk.  Well, I might as well tell her first so she doesn't find out from everyone else.

The dog is dancing in the living room lately.  Shuffling on her back around the floor.  Kicking her legs up in the air and twisting and turning. 

The pool bubbles and gurgles as the water falls from the jacuzzi into the pool. 

It's hot out.  Again.  Temps in the 110+ range are no good for anyone.  Some of the hearty cactus in the front yard are starting to go.  I should water them more often.  The neighbors will soon start talking about the yellow crab grass and the dying cactus.

Just found out that Drew Barrymore has a house on the street.   I guess the Realtors were right when they said it was the Hollywood Hills of the Desert.

I wonder if she will re-inact some scenes from ET when I see her.  Probably not, maybe I could bring her chocolates.  I'll soon be a bachelor when my wife finds out what's happened.  But who am I kidding, what would a nice girl like Drew Barrymore want with a cheating heart like mine?  I've really blown it big time and the girl at work might even be pregnant.

Hot City Diary: Day 119

Days of beer and joints in the pool lead to a nap and then it's karaoke night again and pam invited this whole wedding party back to the bar and she didn't expect them to come and they came and now it's getting rowdy.  It's not like last karaoke.  Those guys were on mushrooms.  These peeps are just drunk and getting drunker.  They've been practicing for weeks and are all consuming mass quantities of booze and beer and singing their heart out.  Someone totally blows it big time on "White Wedding" by screaming instead of singing and only "Footloose" can bring people back together but not for long.  The Karaoke breaks up around 1am.

 Security finds a couple from the wedding party hooking up and they won't stop having sex in public stairway for like 10 minutes.  It's 3 in the morning at this point and the hotel is half empty.  He has made them stop twice before and pull up their pants and they promised to go to their room but every time he's come back in the past 10 minutes, they're going at it again.  This time he tells them he's going to stand over there and make sure they leave.  They giddily gallop up the stairs to get some more in their room.  They fumble threw their clothes and can't find the key so Security just let's them in.

I'm putting together a mild night.  All the receipts are sorted.  I've printed out enough reports to smother a small baby and we are rocking.  The daily is halfway finished and the summary is done except for a few reports from the kitchen.  I'll be done in another hour or two.

I head outside for a cigarette.  It's 4 in the morning.  I smoke it and wander down to highway 111.  Nobody in either direction as far as the eye can see.

I will clean the water cooler and then refill it with fresh lemon, orange, lime water.

Life is good inside the hotel.  It's a pristine 76 degrees.  It's so nice in here.  Air conditioners running on max are pumping in all kinds of cool air.  It's a must.

The sun starts to come up around 5am.  The darkness becomes a light blue and then it's baby blue skies all day till dawn.  I think I see some clouds but those will be evaporated in no time.  No use even thinking of rain.  It just doesn't happen, especially in the summer.  Monsoon dreaming.

Hot City Diaries: Day 114

It's hot out, another 110+ today, with it only retreating into the upper 80s at night.  The Summer in the desert is unforgiving.

I smoke joints in the pool, only to surface to take another hit of the joint and then back underwater.  I also watch the hibiscus get torched.

Stupid hibiscus.

I'm watching things going south, quickly.  The palms are torched.  The grass is singed and there's no reason to water these plants more than they need and the grass will come in the fall.  It just retreats underground for a little while.

The backyard looks burned.  I should just replace everything with rocks and cactus.

Thank goodness I got the swamp cooler up and running before the hot streak.

The swamp cooler is making the house really cool and wet.  It's like a swamp in Canada.  It's bearable but moisture builds on the walls and I find myself wiping down the wall directly opposite of the swamp cooler every once in a while.

I see where they get the term Swamp Cooler.  It's really an evaporative (not a word) cooler and works best when it's just hot out and not wet hot out.  I hope that makes sense.  I know it doesn't.  I just run the Swamp Cooler all the time and the house has cooled into the 80s and will occasionally hit the 70s in the early, early morning.

It's humid in the house and bone dry outside and I think we might just make it thru the summer.  I don't want to jump to conclusions but I think we can keep the temps down artificially over here.  We have the technology.  I've got that and maybe a chance winning enough money at the Indian Casinos down the road.

 I do not want to be near anything close to 100 degrees for too long and I think the Swamp Cooler is gonna help with that.  Somebody was cooked for hanging out in the car for too long.  Not another baby, but a grown up.  I know, it's sad either way, but they cooked.  And that is what I'm talking about.  I don't know, but it sounds possible so we're gonna start worrying about that.  I need 80 degrees or less to live comfortably.  This is crazy hot.  The cement radiates it's heat back up at me.

And that's where I find myself on my days off.

Sleeping in front of the Swamp Cooler and spending my days in the pool with a big hat on.  Falco plays on the wifi speakers.  We don't really have to slither on the floor anymore, but sometimes I'll do it just for fun and to get the coldest temperatures this side of the refrigerator.

Good night and good luck with the heat.

Hot City Diary: Day 111

I get off work at 7am and sleep until 4pm.

Hot City Diary: Day 110

The Mod-Biker gang super fight never happened.  My team was too busy singing karaoke on a bus until 4am.

Another ball buster of a day.  It's already 88 at 7:30 in the morning.  It might hit 120 today.  We are gonna stay inside and wait this one out.

I have a stroke of genius.  Maybe it's just a stroke.  I raise both my arms and they go above my head.  I say some simple sentences and it looks like I'm good.  It was a stroke of genius.  Since Shelly went back to Italy, I can run the swamp cooler endlessly and it will be a million dollars less each year.  Awesomeness.  I don't need to sell my car anymore.  Who needs A/C when you've got a swamp cooler.

I find myself staring at the swamp cooler.  It's a portable module that Dirty Dan left and we have it collecting dust on the side of the house by the BBQ.  If I can somehow get this thing to work, I might be in business.  The metal panels come down and it's bizarre inside.  It must be missing some pieces.  I don't know what the inside of a Swamp Cooler is suppose to look like, so I could be wrong.  I remember that I need to ground it so no one will get shocked.  I spray out the inside and outside with my handy dandy 5 diff sitch nozzle and it cleans out most of the dirt that good ol' Dirty Dan left behind.  It's kind of a pain in the ass to move around the backyard in the early morning and it must sound like I'm working on a car back here.   I live in Riverside, I should fill my entire back yard with cars.  Regardless of the car situation, it's getting hotter by the minute, it must be 91 now.  It's not even 8:00 am yet.  Tommy Ramone died today.  Sad.  He was 65 or something, who cares, Punk Rock! Yea! So, yea, Tommy and the Sun and all these things are weighing on me and I've got to get this machine into position before the sun hit's it's peak.

"The swamp cooler will save us from the 120,"  I scream at my dog.

There is a huge piece of Styrofoam that is made to fit in the door frame along with the swamp cooler.  It's a real project.  All kinds of squeeking happening there and finally it's in and clean(er) and grounded and filled with enough water and ready to go.  I flip the switch and it starts to blow air into the house.  Cool wet air is flooding into my living room.  Swamp coolers are just big vaporizers or maybe not, I don't know, I haven't done any research into this story yet.   Take a leap of faith damnit.  So I leave it running all day.

I head off to bed after working the night shift.

Hot City Diary: Day 109

I wake up at noon to the sound of Harley Davidsons rolling up and down the street.  What the fuck is happening?  I live so far off Highway 111, it's not even funny.  Where are all these motorcyclist coming from?  It's Mongol weekend.  The Mongol Motorcyle Club is coming into town and taking things over.  It's sure to be a good time.  Just so happens to coincide with the First Ever Tattoo Convention happening at the Hard Rock Hotel.

I think of the madness that might spill over onto the other hotels, specifically the hotel I work at.  Drunken hipsters vs Mongols.  Mods vs. Greasers?!?  I think there's a special nerd convention at the hotel this weekend, so this should be a mess.  Nerd Mods vs. Mongols.  I'm going to stay behind the desk, no matter what happens.

This should be a fun night.  I fidget a little bit as I read the news on my phone.  It's 105 right now, so all the moto-heads are staying inside and they'll wait till it's 80 out later and that's when the fun should start.  Right around when I get on my shift.  11pm.

I take another drag off my cigarette and drink my beer.  The house is toasty warm inside.  I should just sell the car and get a new air conditioner.  But when Fall comes around, it won't seem like such a good idea anymore.  Giving my car away for an air conditioner.  Crazy thoughts.

Hot City Diary: The Day Of The Lotus Sutra

It's so hot out that I can only sit inside with the shutters closed.  The dog and I.  We can only watch so much TV so I pick out a book from the shelf and right next to "HTML5 for Dummies" and "Farewell to Arms" is a study on The Lotus Sutra.  Some great prose written by the big man several centuries ago and probably dissected by some idiots.  Anywho, let's take a look and see what it's all about.  Nichiren buddhist chant this every morning as just one of their prayers.  It's suppose to bring you back into alignment and achieve buddha-hood.  That will cool things off around here for sure.  Nirvana is probably nicer than Alaska, so I study and read all the good stuff and chant Nam Myo Ho Renge Kyo over and over for five or ten minutes and also this chant below.  It can take half an hour sometimes.  

Chapter 1-5 "Expedient Means"

Myo ho ren ge kyo
hoben-pon dai ni
niji seson ju sanmai anjo
ni ki go shari-hotsu sho-
but chi-e jinjin muryo go
chi-e mon nange nanyu issai
shomon hyaku-shi-butsu sho
fu no chi sho-i sha ga butsu
zo shingon hyaku sen man noku
mushu sho butsu jin gyo
sho-butsu muryo doho yumyo
shojin myosho fu mon joju
jinjn mi-zo-u ho zui go sho
setsu ishu nange shari-hotsu
goju jo-butsu irai shuju innen
shuju hiyu ko en gonkyo mu
shu hoben indo shujo ryo ri
sho jaku sho-i sha ga nyorai
hoben chi-ken hara-mitsu kai
i gu-soku shari-hotsu nyorai
chi-ken kodai jinnon muryo
muge riki mu-sho-i zenjo
gedas sanmai jin nyu musai
joju issai mi-zo-u ho shari-
hotsu norai no shuju fun-
bestu gyo ses sho ho gon-
ji nyunan ekka shushin shari-
hotsu shu yo gon shi muryo
muhen mi-zo-u ho bus shitsu
joju shi shari-hotsu fu shu bu
setsu sho-i sha ga bus sho
joju dai ichi ke-u nange shi
ho yui butsu yo butsu nai no
kujin shoho jisso

Sho-i shoho nyo ze so
nyo ze sho, nyo ze tai
nyo ze riki nyo ze sa
nyo ze in nyo ze en
nyo ze ka nyo ze ho
nyo ze honmak kukyo to.

Chant the last paragraph 3 times.

Hot City Diary: Day 107

Dear Hot City Diary.

I'm staying inside today.  I'm not even going to look out side until it's dark.

It's more re-runs of all my favorite Alaskan shows.  All day, all night from Alaskan residents to Alaskan patrolmen and women.  They are all having a great time in all that snow.

I drift off to sleep watching all the snow drifts and that one woman who owns Kavik is riding her new machine across the snow drifts.  We're all drifting off somewhere.  Suddenly I'm in that machine riding along with Sue and we're both smoking cigarettes and playing with her dog and the foxes she has in the cab.  We're on our way to go find some fish.   I bump around in the cab with the heater on high and enjoy listening to her talk about everything and nothing.  It's so comfortable in the cab, must be around 90 degrees or more.  I take off my jacket and help her load the rifles that she's brought with her.  She says there might be some grizzlies or worse, Polar Bears up ahead.  She reminds me that they can outrun this machine that she built.  That's why we've got the guns, she reminds me.  We've got guns to show these babies that we mean business.  We will fire a lot of bullets in the air to show them we mean business, and then drive off.  We're not gonna kill anybody, but they better not get crazy or we will.

Sue is telling me we've got 24 hours of this driving and we'll switch off, but if I could just get out and check the belts on the engine, that would be great.  She drives off just when I'm putting on my gloves and fixing my jacket.  Everything get's dark.  I think to myself that this could be bad, but as soon as that thought enters my head it starts to get light. It's a clear Alaskan day and I can see for miles and miles. I see some snowmobiles in the distance coming this way.

 It's okay, I'm now met by an Alaskan family.  The nice husband and wife and their 2 daughters and one son.  We are going caribou hunting the father tells me.  He hands me a rifle and tells me that my snowmobile is over there.

AWESOME!

I get on this metal snow beast, it's freezing out and there's ice on everything, and press the start button and the engine turns on.  The family smiles and peels out.  I hold on and sit down and twist the handle.  Soon, i'm flying across the snowscape at speeds that don't feel safe.  It's an awesome feeling.  My rifle strapped across my back and now my dog is here.  She's got a dog jacket on and a small dog rifle and she sits in front of me and we are flying across the snow and ice with the greatest of ease.  No real obstacles to avoid.  Nothing but ice and snow for miles and miles.  Quite exhilarating, but it sure is hot with all my jackets on.  I take one off and let it fall off the back of the snowmobile.  My dog is barking at me to take off her jacket, too.

Then I wake up in a sweaty mess and find myself tangled up with the couch blanket and the dog barking and snarling at me.

I get us both some water and things are better.

Hot City Diary: Day 106

Earl shows up in this huge vehicle.  It's straight outta a Mad Max movie, some kind of dually on steroids.  It's bright yellow and has Earls name printed on the door and his fathers painted on the passenger door.  He's been laying some tile all morning and on the way home he charges $60 bucks to get it all done.  The pool is no longer leaking.  He's worked his magic.  The pipes are tighter than a pickle jar and now the algae must die.

It's only 108 today and I've been slithering around on the floor for days.  My doggie is right there by my side, licking my face.

We will dash back and forth from the pool.  I go inside and my dog goes to the edge then it's a quick lap and then back into the house.

The dog days of Summer are here.

Hot City Diary: Day 105

It's a searing 113 out.  I try to get some errands done and things sorted out and drive around a bit and the sun burns as it hits me thru the window.  I'm tucking my arms in with all the windows down and it still feels like there are 4 blast furnace doors open.  I try to stick my head outside and give a little yelp, but it comes out dry and like I just stuck my head into an oven with wind blowing at 50 mph.  It hurts.  The yelp becomes a dry cough and I'm rolling up all the windows to put on the air conditioning.  I try to look around to see how other drivers are coping with it, and they're all tinted up.  That's how you do it in the desert.  You tint it up big time and it's not that big of a deal with the cops because they know how ridiculous a day like today is without any kind of tint.  My car must be 120 inside, just from sitting in the sun; and then driving around with the blast furnaces open have only added to the heat, and I've spent most of the day cooking myself in my metal box as I drive around town.  I can feel the heat on my arms but there is no way to avoid the heat.  It hangs right in front of you,  I can feel it crawling up my spine into my head.  My skull is a bone crockpot with my brain simmering in blood and totally being cooked.  I'm going to be a vegetable If I don't get out of here soon.  I totally cooked my muscles and my brain in the last 45 minutes and no wonder everyone looks like beef jerky after they've lived here too long.  I need air conditioning, but it's expensive, but I need it or else I'll end up cooking myself to a crisp.

I roll up all the windows and turn on the air conditioning and try to relax.  It's only for a couple months.  Maybe I shouldn't go out in the daytime anymore.  I'll have to wait until at least 7 when the sun goes down behind the mountain.  It's so god damn hot in that sun.  Anything over 110 is totally unfair.   How brutal this desert can really be for the Summer months.  The cool air floods the car.  Things start to cool down.  My brain stops boiling.  I can think clearly again.  I've got to get out of here is my first thought.

Soon it might be like this for half the year,then maybe more.  What will happen to the Coachella valley when it's over 100 degrees everyday?  No amount of air conditioning will make that a good choice.  It will return to the desert and all the residents will have moved on.


All the plants look like they just want me to kill them already.  Watering twice per week is not enough anymore.  They need water everyday during the dog days of July and August and sometimes September.  Even the white bugs that have gotten into the hibiscus are dying in this heat.  Serves them right.  This is just the beginning.  It stays this hot for months.  Hovering between the 80's for lows and the 110+ for highs.  It will reach 120 at some point.  Maybe even higher this year.  We might all be the proud citizens to own the bragging rights on the Hottest day ever.  That's the exciting part, isn't it?  We're breaking records.  But these aren't the good kinds.

Hot.

Hot City Diary: Day 104

Strange things are happening at the hotel.  Some guy in a gold hat was doing front flips into the jacuzzi all night.  Trippple Zay.  It was like cray cray, but now totally Zay.  Rounds of drinks to someones credit card and the fun was to be had at the hotel.  There wasn't anybody acting weird at the hotel tonight.  No strange 60 somethings trying to relive their youth but being weird and just staring and not interacting with anyone, except to pinch somebodies girlfriends bum.  Not tonight.  The blonde with braids that get's TRASHED and loses her ID and everything, every Thursday for metal night.  She was in a rush one night and took a spill and her dentures came out.  It was awkward.  She washed them off with the orange and lime water and put them back in.  That part was kinda cool, but whatever.  Nothing like that is happening tonight.  Nobody on mushrooms, nobody puking out front in the succulents, nothing.  It's nice and quiet.

I think it cooled down to 82 around 4am.  It was nice.  It's only gonna get hotter.  I think today is due to top out at 111 today.  It will cool down to 84 tonight.  (I'm on weather.com) and that looks like we've seen the last of the low 80's for 3 months.  

The pool pump is broken too!  So there I am, barefoot, and running across the outdoor cement when my feet start to melt.  I run to the pool pump area because I've just put up an umbrella a few weeks back and know I can find shade.  It's swamped.  I jump into the water and curse.  Damn it!  What kind of dumb luck is this?!?  Just when the heat has descended upon us.  The pool will never last a day with water circulating.  The Pool is 90 degrees at the surface.  Possibly 80 at the bottom.  Algae is gonna start blooming in no time.  It's time to ramp up the chlorine and the conditioner and run the pool engine for 8 hours a day.  I better get this fixed soon.

I call Earl up the street and it's his wifes' funny voice mail and I leave a message and hope they get back to me soon.

Hot City Diary: Day 102

No masturbating in the Jacuzzi.  A couple of hotel guests have complained that a young man with his passed out girlfriend by his side was pulling one off in front of other hotel guests.

He received a warning.

It must be Friday.

Hot City Diary: Day 101

There's nothing to do but watch Depeche Mode 101 all day.  That and more marathons of Alaskan TV shows.

Inside is the place to be.  Who wants to be outside at 105 when it's a cool 88 down here on the tile floor.  I can get to where ever I need but as I crawl around and look up, I see the air cooking up there.  Molecules are moving ever more faster.  Madness.

I turn on the TV and set up the Depeche Mode roadie classic 101 where we get to ride along with a bunch of fans and go to some of the concerts and then prep for Dodger Stadium or wherever it is.  Wait, it was the Rose Bowl.  Depeche Mode plays the Rose Bowl at the end of the tour.  AND it's awesome.

I set myself up with some pillows and spread out on the tile floor next to my dog.

Then we'll watch some Alaskan TV shows:

It's a time to drink a lot of water and stay inside.

Hot City Diaries: Day ____

The pool sparkles in my dreams.  The pool sparkles and sparkles and shines under the heat.  It must be a dream of the times when we had chlorine and conditioner and a floater and some acid and some of that special anti-algae mixture to keep the algae at bay.  PH levels need to be checked and rechecked and then maybe you're gonna wanna check em a couple times more and wait until the sun goes down and put in a little more chlorine.  Drew at the Pool Store thinks you can never have enough chlorine in a pool.  Such good stuff that Chlorine.  Keeping it all clean.  I have a new pool shop, too.  The Pool Emporium is the pool shop of my dreams.

Suddenly,  I'm wandering the shelves at the Pool Emporium and things are great.  Rows of inflatable toys.  Some noodles.  Some hardware and rows and rows of chlorine and pool additives.  All kinds of colors and sizes of bottles.  He keeps the chlorine on the floor in 4 gallon crates and the other products line up high on the wall.  Drew wants to talk about all kinds of shit.  He's great.  Wishing he could see you more.  Treating you like you were special.  What a guy.  Things are great over at Drews.  One time he was like "You can have this barracuda pool cleaner diaphram but I was holding it for someone else, I'll just tell them that it hasn't come in yet."

Hot City Diaries: Day 99

It's in the teens again today.  One Hundred and Thirteen degrees.  Inside without the air conditioner is ninety five.  I spend most of my time in the pool with a sombrero on.  Everything is hot and the things inside the house are warm.  The tile inside the house is the coolest thing, so I find myself laying down on it a lot.  I slither up and down the hallway like a snake to use the restroom when I come in from the pool.  I'll slither into the kitchen and just stand in front of the open refrigerator.

It's too hot for anything.  Anything over 90 is uncomfortably hot and this 110 plus weather pattern every summer is just out of control.

The plantation shutters are closed.  I have my favorite Alaskan TV show playing.  The dog is inside.  I lay down on the couch and point a fan in my direction.  The TV has tales of great things that people do up near the arctic circle.  I google my distance to the arctic circle and it comes back as 2264 miles.  I'm frying down here in the lower 48.  It's a furnace this month.  July is a horrible, horrible idea for the desert cities.

The dog and I slowly cook ourselves in this fantastic 3 bedroom, 2 bath tile lined oven.

My mind wanders as I fall in and out of sweaty uncontrollable sleep.  Tossing this way and that.  At one point I slide right off the couch with all the sweat that has built up as the faux leather seems like a bad idea now, but it's not so bad during the other part of the year.  I crawl back up and fall back asleep and I dream that I'm running across the tundra to my snow mobile.  I've got some trees to cut down and then maybe I'll be lucky if I don't freeze to death while I'm doing it.  I've got to empty my fish-o-wheel and feed my sled dogs and cut some more firewood.  I've got a grip of things to do.  No time for lounging around on my couch in the shade.

Damn this time of year.  Double damn it.

I get up and try to drink a beer but it only makes things stranger and sweatier.  This would be great if I had my hot Italian wife running around in her underwear, but Shelly was the smart one, she left town for the summer.  There's no way to survive the summer.  I'll never be the same.

How does it get this hot over here, and it's never this hot in Los Angeles?  What's up with that.  It's only 100 miles away.   I stop to think that I live in Riverside, now.  I'm a resident of Riverside, now, and this kind of heat is par for the course.  This is the reason that the houses are so cheap.  Three months out of the year, it's impossibly hot.  No good reason to go outside.  There is only TV and Alaskan daydreams during these times of crisis.  Let's just hope the water keeps running.  That lukewarm water.

Hot City Diary: Day 83

It's the Fourth of July and residents of Cathedral City are lighting up the nights sky.  It's one of the only cities that sells fireworks in the entire Coachella Valley.  There are 3 fireworks kiosks throughout the city and they are operated by the local school district so that the profits from the sales help fund things at the area schools.

"Bang, Bang"

"Zip, Weeeeeeeeeeeee"

"Pop"

The night goes on in this fashion.  It's been hot out all day and the heat seems to transfer over into the night, now.  The heat radiates back up from the surface of things.  All those cement, asphalt, brick and tile surfaces have picked up a lot of heat during the day and now they're heating things up.  I should spray everything down, but that would waste a whole lot of water.

"Zip, Boom!"

It was 106 today and now it's hovering around 85, maybe a little higher with all the heat off the backyard.  The hibiscus is not doing very well.  I'll have to make some shade structures so that they'll survive the summer.  The air conditioner has been running inside my shade structure all day, and  I fear that this months electricity bill is going to be off the hook.

"Zing, Ka-Pow!"

"Whipoweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"

Flashes and explosions fill the sky.  You can hear some cars honking their horns down the street.  Everybody is excited about independence day.  Freedom.  A human really doesn't have much in this life, so freedom is worth more than the best shade structures.  It's worth more than those fancy million dollar shade structures up in Thunderbird Heights.  The dozens of homeless cases under the bridge at Date Palm Drive and Highway 111 can attest to that.  They might get pretty damn close to heat stroke everyday, but once the sun goes down and it's decent out, they are free do wander the four corners of the earth.  Sure, they're not gonna get farther than the Carls' Jr. down the street, but they can dream.  If somebody has a bicycle then they can travel all the way down to La Quinta if they want to, but it's the freedom to dream that counts on Independence day.

"Pop, Bang!"

Suddenly there is a loud pop right at the side of the house.  The air conditioner turns off and the power goes off in the house for a couple seconds then comes back on. What the fuck was that? It sounds like somebody threw a firecracker into my side yard.  So, I pause my Alaskan TV show and make my way outside to the side yard.  I can see flickers of light dancing on the sun scorched wooden fence that separates the side yard from the backyard.  Oh, shit.  The air conditioner is on fire.  I knew I shouldn't have run it for so long without having it serviced.  Good ol' Dirty Dan probably never had this thing serviced.  I grab a hose and spray down the unit.  200,000 BTU's of heaven is now a 1 ton piece of useless metal.  It hisses and pops as I spray it and some of the neighbors heard the noise and mingle out in the street hoping for somebody to be nosey enough and look over the fence.  I quickly spray down the unit and make my way back inside before anyone finds anything out.  They can just think it was a big firecracker.  I'll be the laughing stock of the neighborhood if they find out I'm without air conditioning during one of the hottest summers on record.

I'll also be dead without any air conditioner.  Good thing Shelly is in Italy or else she would be pissed. I'm pretty sure the finances won't allow me to get another until next year.  I'll just have to ride out the summer sans Air Conditioner.  That doesn't sound good.

"Bam, whizzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, Bing!"

Hurricane Arthur

Drunkenly Arthur make his way along the coast, causing all kinds of havoc.  He's had one too many Singapore Slings, yet he still picks up steam and gathers his stuff, only to throw it out all over the countryside.  Slamming waves hit the shores and they come more and more and taller and taller now.  The waves and the rain and the wind are mixed like that exotic cocktail he was enjoying outside of Miami for a couple days.  That warm weather and warm water mixes, very much like the ice cubes in Arthurs drink.  He's staggering now.  Flailing out with his arms and bringing gusts of wind and who cares about the water at this point because the wind is ripping things off of houses and businesses and sending them flying into other houses and businesses.  Well, the water is back, too.  It's a couple feet higher than it was a moment ago.

Arthur finishes his drink and tosses the glass and then reaches for another.  He's aiming for a category 2 Hurricane by midnight tonight and then he's gonna move across the shoreline and outer islands in the  Pamlico Sound and totally wreck everyones day at the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge which has about 20,000 acres of Alligators.  Can't really evacuate the Alligators.  They don't work well with people sometimes and it would take a real long time to round em all up.  If only they could get it together and just walk out that would save a lot of Alligators lives.  That, or just go underwater.

I'm stuck in the house and can only watch it on TV.  I don't dare go outside, today.  It's 105.  There's not a cloud in the sky.  Not one cloud.

It's been too long and now it's gone.

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