caffeine jones's blog

The story of the last 10 years: Six houses, each more communal & livable than the one before it; my family is thrown out because of the unstable housing market. It is slowly reassembling in my head, in the form of a musical theatre parody. I am a grumbling Grrrl Tevye, packing my family's ragged belongings, bidding a tearful farewell to one more beloved Anatevka.
Yet another landlord has kicked us out, so he can sell the house. We are trying to convince him to sell it to US,

A review of Rev. Phil Sano's "Bike Porn II: Bikexploitation"

By the Afternoon of Friday the 13th, when Dingo the Clown (my Baby Daddy) rolled the big, bike-propelled, Airstream-like trailer he calls home into my yard, so he could hold down the fort for my every-other-weekend furlough, Many people had already asked me what I was planning to DO with my time off.

In 1986, when I was a moody teen sporting a mohawk, combat boots, and an "Abolish Apartheid" t-shirt, I bought one of those postcards with two punks kissing, and tacked it to the wall in my room. Yesterday, I saw two of my friends; all shaved, charged, & studded, sharing a smooch, and I thought to myself, "watching real live punks kiss is much nicer than those old postcards."

So I'm with my 9yr old daughter, and we walk past a garage that advertises "Paint and Body."
She asks, "That's auto body, right?"
I said, "Yeah. People don't usually paint themselves." Reconsidering, I said, "Well, I wear plenty of makeup."
"Or henna, maybe," she replied. Then, we passed a beauty salon, and I realized it was just like the car place, only for people.
I was thunderstruck! I said, "Oh, my God. People treat their cars like they do themselves!"

I heard this guy on NPR. He lost his son to suicide from steroid use. It's worth checking out, if your kids are into sports.
http://www.taylorhooton.org/
He said the pressure on his son had been intense, as nearly half his team was ON steroids.
Ok, so I'm thinking: HALF! What percentage of America's teen sons does that represent?! In these testosterone-fueled times, is this a symptom, or a cause?
Will this lead them toward the military, or other gangs?
I'm lighting a candle for our young men.

Ok, I don't know how you clever ladies get you tube to appear up here. But here's a link to my favorite thing I've seen on there yet!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxT5NwQUtVM

In my dream, I shared my bed with two lovely women: a soft, quiet American, and a skinny, feisty German. Our children slept elsewhere, and our slumber party had taken some ingenuity to arrange. I had mad crushes on both of them, and they were helping me with a revolutionary art project. I was so smitten, I wrote a poem.
I woke to find I was really bunked down, as usual, with a squirmy toddler. But I remember the poem, and it is to ALL of you. Note:there's one "bad" word.

Rage On, Mamas!

Rage on.
Let your creative anger ring like the Liberty Bell across tomorrow.

In our search for a new home, I was so terrified that we would be homeless. It looked bad.
I prayed to the Mother, and She delivered us here, where it is peaceful & functional, and I am ever so grateful. To Her, and to my friend who took us in, for being such a solid Sister.
Then the money debacle set in. My jobs are both postponed. How am I gonna pay for this blessed roof? And the drama. My marriage is over.
Well, I've prayed some more. Prayed & prayed. For my family, for my kind friends who, even though they have problems of their own, have been here for me in my hour of need.

Last Friday on Alberta is SUCH a big mess!
Please help me get my deposit back.
Friday (tomorrow), Noon to Midnight, 25th & Alberta.
I'll buy beer. Movie is TBA.
Thanks!

So does her family.
Having to Move in PDX! Very few places open, and I have two delightful kids and a well-behaved Pit Bull, who are making it hard to find a place. Any dog-&-kid-friendly places available out there?
I can try to pay up to about $700, but am seeking low rent.
For my dog's references, visit
www.clownhouse.org

So I was praying in the kitchen, as women are wont to do. I was worried about my dog, whose toenail just split, and who has no home to go to at the end of the month. I pray mostly to the Virgen of Guadelupe, these days, and I asked her to show us the way to good shelter, as me, my two kids, and my unbelievably charming Pit Bull are at the end of our lease, can't afford it here, & have no new place to go. I prayed beyond Our Lady, to all the deities, angels, & helping souls, for a place for these charming, sweet, high-energy critters that are charged to my care.

So I need a job, right? I'm out handing out resumes, and I walk into a sushi bar that has a sign into the window that says sushi helper needed. It was a sheeshy place, which looked good, cuz, if I may toot my own horn for a minute, I'm kind of a hot shot cook.
Well, the polite young Japanese man who was holding up the counter told me the position was for men only.
I started laughing. I looked around for the camera. I was going to pull on the guy's hair, to see if he was really Jaime Kennedy, when I realized he was serious.

The 5th annual Multnomah County Bike Fair was, as usual, amazing. All our favorite booths and events, with a sprinkling of new offerings, made it the gala of good, clean fun we all have come to love. Bike Culture at its finest.

On vacation, I caught my reflection in a mirror in the bathroom of an all-you-can-eat buffet place. I looked distorted. Too long, taller than I really am. I contemplated the nature of the distortion, and considered the idea that they may be trying to make women tell themselves they're thin enough, and can eat some more. Then I caught my reflection in the bathroom's other mirror, and noticed it stretched me the other way- made me look wide and squat.

Yesterday, I was taking the baby for a walk, when we passed two Hispanic guys who were rebuilding a porch. My boy smiled big & waved, cuz that's what he does, and one of the guys saw him, & his face lit up. He waved back, “Hello, Guerito!”
I laughed, “That's funny, because that's what I call him!”

My friend Alex gave my baby this really funny t-shirt.
it says:
F*CK
ART
LETS
KILL
Only it doesn't have an asterisk.

This boy is almost full-grown, now. I first met him when he was about 7, when he and his little "gang" wanted me to fix stolen bikes for them, so they could sell them.
Sometimes a little girl tagged along, maybe 3 or 4. I never met a single parent.
I don't know that he ever goes to school. Sometimes I'll see that he's found himself a job - it's always moms who find a little work for him - and then I'll see him in an altercation with said mom, she explaining that you have to do the work to get the money, and he trying the fast-talk that's the only communication he knows.

This baby boom's killing me!
I haven't had a sitter for 3 weeks, as all the good ones are taken. I went to a daycare open house, laughing at the pregnant yuppies picking daycare for unborn children.
Then I found out I was the stupid one.
I never had this problem with my first. I've been stood up bt 2 sitters in as many weeks. I need to work! My son is bored literally to tears!

I have 8 years' baby & childcare experience, and could watch your baby @ your place or mine, if you can do the same.

My dog is the best bike dog ever. Banjo the Circus Dog loves to take a run, and navigates traffic like a pro.Yesterday, as we we cantered down the road, I knew she wanted to open it up & go fast, but it had just started raining, and she could feel my wheels skidding on the wet pavement. She was being SOOO good, turning where & when I told her, not chasing a single squirrel or dog. I was thinking I should give her a command to go fast, as she has one for going slow ("It's a parade.").

So here it is again, with an update.

We talk about Brittany Spears a lot @ my house.
My daughter is crazy about her, has been since Kindergarten. (now a 3rd grader.)
Naturally rebellious, my kid idealizes the pop star fashion thing, mostly because it bothers me, and also because she can pull it off, in this hip, Spy Kids kind of way she has. She's a dancer, and very fashion-conscious. So she watched every single one of Brittany and Kevin's "Support the Troops, yay G.W.!" concerts, and still bought peace buttons at church (We're Unitarian), and wore them with pride.

A year ago this week, when my youngest was born, the rain and wind buffetted the house, making our drafty old windows rattle, and the plastic over them blow up like a balloon. Since the storm started with his arrival, I looked at his lumpy little newborn self, still so sentient in that way they are when they are new, and asked him,"Did you bring us this storm?" He rolled his head toward me, and smiled in a very un-newborn way, and I got chills all through me.

Eveyone loves little gorilla. Then, he grows up, and everyone still loves him.
I see something happen to boys when they develop into men. Without stong, kind male role models, I see young men unconciously emasculate themselves, in order to not alienate women, or not be a "typical male." One young man I know actually crosses his feet in front of himself in a very weak stance every time he puts forth an idea. He also finds it hard to trust his own judgement, and was asking me a bizillion unnecessary questions, until he realized he was doing it, and is trying to be more self-directed.
I once knew a young man who told me he was raised in a lesbian community, and was adored by all those around him, until he began to resemble a man, and he suddenly felt "tossed aside," like he was a threat, or not wothy of the affection he'd been showered with as a child.

When I was pregnant with my first, I prayed for a girl, as I would have no way to guide a boy through th e f-ed up world of the American male psyche. Lucky me, I got the girl.
Eight years later, I had my son, and I was not even worried. Because so many of us women are figuring out that shaky line between helping and enabling.
It got a huge laugh last week in the cafe, when I shouted, "All our men need to be freed from the opression of helplessness they suffer! Freedom from ignorance about how to do the dishes!"
But I wasn't actually kidding.
I'm actually currently perfoming the role of "MOM" for a menagerie of folks, so I have a lot of unlearning ahead of me, but it is fun work; such a releif to let it all go!

I talked to my Granny on MLK day. She lives in the Bay Area, and she said there was a memorial march, but she couldn't make it. Granny is 81, and her poor old feet hurt her when it's cold out.
She was sad that her feet kept her at home, as those feet have traveled the globe, many times over. They marched against the war in Vietnam, and they marched for civil rights for all Americans since the 1960's, up until now, when they are just too tired.
Thank you, Granny.
She took me to the first protest I remember going to. It was a candlelight vigil, in remembrance of Hiroshima. I never hesitated to take up the torch, as my family and schools always taught that the greatest Americans were those that fought the good fight, like Benjamin Franklin, Rosa Parks, Sitting Bull...(well, my family was way hipper than the schools, but the sentiment was the same.)

Welcome to Cascadia! As a child of the first wave of hippies to migrate here, I know first hand the scenic beauty of our emerald green home. Drive an hour in any direction, and find yourself in a different climate: mountains, desert, rainforest, swamp, you name it, it's here, relatively unsullied (remember to pack out your trash!), and crisscrossed with trails, for all your outdoor recreational needs.
But heed my warnings, all you rookie adventurers! Recent years have seen a sharp increase of the number of people who met untimely deaths in our wilderness. From the well-publicized Kim family, to the many river fatalities in the summer, unprepared nature lovers have given their very lives for their vacations.