Trouble on Stinson Beach, Chinese herbs, & a broken wing

You are a bad blogger. Bad bad blogger! Days in California just go by, what can I say? Living here by the lake, screwing down into the book, which is due January 15th. It’s been writing, jiu-jitsu, reading, teaching.

But I’m back in Sitka now, and it’s dark, and windy outside, just a couple days from solstice. So curious up here how no one cares much about Christmas, but solstice, the days starting to get longer. Now that is an event to celebrate.

Anyways – the past few months, a scroll through the IPhone to figure out what the hell has been happening.

After battling tooth-and-nail with the techies and their sheaves of rent money, Cal and I finally landed in an apartment, as I think I’ve reported. And he began his transformation into an Oakland dog, chasing the California Gulls and getting in good, clean trouble. Sitting stoically beneath willows, playing in fresh grass in the sun. I think he’s happy, he seems to be enjoying himself. Walking around the lake I let him off the leash to chase the geese. That doesn’t go over here so hot. But hey – they used to have predators, you’d think a good fly and adrenaline rush would be healthy. Birders don’t think so. Here’s a photo of a bunch of em looking at – a hawk! I shouldn’t be so ornery but people can be very self-righteous. But also very kind and happy. Everyone is happy! Makes the Philly boy in me suspicious.

I had a rule for myself moving down here. No Ikea! That didn’t work out so hot. I was there on like the second day I had my apartment. Cal and I made the trip down to the Palo Alto Ikea and got lost in the caverns of furnishings. And promptly learned that dogs are not allowed in  National Parks either. Which sucks because we both wanted to get out of town. And then came – the government shut down! Perfect. “Desolation Wilderness” had a nice ring to it so off we went – and we didn’t even need a permit!

Cal dozed lakeside and I read and the coyotes didn’t keep us up too bad.

I was rolling jiu-jitsu, a great studio just up the street, but the shoulder kept acting up. And then I remembered – I have Stanford healthcare! Excitement of excitements.

So off to the surgeon, who happened to be the head of the Stanford Shoulder department. X-Ray, and I guess the clavicle is supposed to actually be attached down, not popped up like that. Surgery was scheduled and done. Then down to Chinatown where they set out five boxes of heck knows what, checked my pulse and blood pressure and heartbeat with one of those old-fashioned stethoscopes that he didn’t even blow on to warm up the metal. Peered in at my tongue and sent me home with herbs that I boiled, making the apartment smell like old wet shoes. And I spent ten days drinking a drink that tasted like old shoes.

But thank goodness through it all for good friends – I was a lost kitten, lost in the haze of painkillers. I swear – you should see Jenny Pritchett do an imitation of me on oxycotin – pretty funny. The stuff didn’t agree with me – I think I said something in a Stegner workshop about how the rabbit wasn’t doing a good enough job digging his hole.

So I sold the painkillers on the lake and used the money to buy a picture that reminded me of home. No – I actually saw this at a place called the Battery in San Francisco, a remarkable club I happened to be at during its opening. If you ever happen to be let through the doors, check out the wallpaper in the men’s bathroom. Special.

My buddy got married in New Orleans, so headed down there, and experienced a second line going through the French Quarter – also remarkable, in a much different way. And then returned to Stanford to be the first of the Stegners to read publicly. Had an extended debate with myself over which section to read – domestic violence, native issues, alcoholism, and blow jobs, or fishing for salmon as the sun set. One guess which I ended up reading. I think they liked it.

And took a trip to hear Katey Schultz read from her amazing book “Flashes of War,” in Davis, and of course she was incredible. And Cal enjoyed the trip in the pickup, as always. An apple, phone charger, water, and we’re set to roll.

And now – back in Sitka, sitting at the Homeport Eatery, a sweet little joint decorated so festively for the Christmas season which you really should check out if you’re in town. And a blog on developments on the Adak and so much more upcoming – I miss my doggie, who decided he’d rather not fly again.

But it feels good to be home.