4.0 earth quake off the San Diego coast!

Excerpted from the comments section of the San Diego Union Tribune.

Commenter 1
"Was the quake related to all the live, supposedly disoriented squid tht washed up on the beaches there right after the quake? What are the experts there in Marine Biology attributting this phenomena to, I was surprised it wasn't a headline in your Sunday paper. I lived for years at the beach and never saw squid wash up, especially so many and alive but witnesses said they appeared disoriented?"

Commenter 2
"It's early morning and you're a squid; amongst thousands of your slimy buddies lying on the sandy shore. In the unflattering morning light, you notice that you all look like 8-legged condoms with huge eye balls; and the human beings start to point and stare. It's then you begin to feel the creeping disorientation; so overwhelming, like a choking fog making its way inland."

The Suicide of Dorothy Hale

During my last trip to the modernist style and stale starch smelling University Heights library, I picked up a book of Frida Kahlo's letters. One of her letters to a former lover mentions the painting "Suicide of Dorothy Hale". Dorothy's husband had passed away in a car accident leaving her broke and with an already failing stage career. She threw a party at her luxury high-rise, wrote some notes, had one last swig of vodka and put on a dress and corsage and jumped.

Garden Moose

the Scotch moss

My first real gardening/landscaping attempt unfurled two weeks ago. Now I am pulling weeds in between and out of the Scotch Moss and Dymandia. A few of the weeds went straight up like a dagger, into and then out the other side of the Scotch Moss. Invasive bastards! The roots of these marauders extend for inches below the soil, or the equivalent of several miles in plant scale. I have to dig, no, extract, EXCAVATE them out with a tool. During one moment of meditative attack on the weeds I began to compare their slow and consistent takeover to a person's inner life. We all have unusual, mean, inappropriate, lazy, vengeful, regretful, depressing, startling, stewing, negative, obsessive, repetitive thoughts that start growing from our subsoil and before we know it, they're in the light of day and we cannot avoid. Maybe the pharmacopia of drugs for mental disorders is really weed killer. Perhaps our conscience is the Constant Gardner, extracting those weeds before they get their start.

A Sunny Day at Aamodt's Apple Orchard

Drawn from a photograph on my desk.
My mom the teacher.
Couldn't sleep last night.

Mother*WHAT!?#

~ Hillary's opening statement at the 94.9 music festival in Oceanside last Saturday. Moose picked up these tickets to the sold out festival over a month ago hell bent on being in the presence of the Yeah Yeah Yeah's. At first, I let my Oceanside stereotypes get the best of me: 24hr. gamblers @ the gawdy Ocean's Eleven casino near the Mission Ave. exit, drunken military folk on the sidewalks, people who can surf better than me at the beach... Alas we arrived and I found a crowd of happy 20-40 somethings with excellently arranged outfits, perfectly tuned to the conditions of afternoon sun, ocean breeze and evening cool. The stretch of pavement lining the beach was my concrete catwalk to observe for the day. The Oceanside Amphitheatre atmosphere is hands-down the best outdoor music venue. Imagine your favorite band, imagine yourself at the top seat in nice steep bleachers so you get a great view of your favorite band. Then picture an infinite backdrop of blue sky, dotted with palm trees and dolphins frolicking in the frothy ocean waves. So, so, SO different from music festivals in the middle of a muddy field in the midwest, with port-o-potties for fences and rain 90% of the time, no bleachers and a view of your favorite band through the wisps of somebody's mullet.

The Yeah Yeah Yeah's were incredible and I have become a total fan of their new album, It's Blitz!

Sunday Moose.