Jiffy Lube Fiasco (BLOG #6)

4/16/09

There was newfound excitement in both of us as we walked over the salt lined doorway and distanced ourself from the sickness we had been experiencing. Approaching Hoe-Nay, my eager smile was deflated upon seeing the oil hacienda that had formed in three days time. On hands and knees, shifting my upside down head from the engine, I looked a second time just to make sure a mirage didn’t escape my imagination. “Oh Fudge!” Only I didn’t say ‘fudge’. I said THE word, the big one, the queen mother of dirty words, the f dash dash dash word” (ok, stole that from ‘christmas story’& georgia who says it quite often). Overflow huh? What a crack!

Feeling duped, I rose to my feet, and got on the horn. My third phone call was to Jiffy Lube, with the intention of war. The San Diego outfit gave me a new number to call. The puck was being passed because that is how things work. I went from one number to another, jumping through all the hoops they were holding up for me. Eventually I left a message with some guy who had some association with the other Lubers who did us wrong. 2 hours later I got a call back.

Tom Duong, the owner of the San Diego Jiffy Lube, was not happy to be talking to me at all. Our conversation started with him not even giving me an opportunity to fully explain the situation, but rather by telling me that they had done nothing wrong. “My workers are only giving recommendations on what to do. It is up to the customer to decide what course of action to take”. Where do these guys come up with this shit? I laughed involuntarily, and then plotted my intuitive counter argument. “Ok Tom, let me tell you one thing. If I were sick I would go into the doctors office to get well. If the doctor recommended such and such drugs to take, then I would take them. Why? Because Tom, I am not a doctor. Not knowing that field of practice allows me to take the professional’s advice, and trust that I will get better, and not worse”.

I paused to congratulate myself on my analogy. “The same applies with my vehicle Tom. I went in with an ailment, an oil leak. Your professionals, including the manager John, recommended an oil flush of the engine. It was one of several items recommended to help assure us a safe passage across the nation and back. Similar to my doctor, I trusted your mechanics because I was in their field of expertise. To sum up, $400 of expert recommendations resulted in me now looking at a pool of oil under the engine. Does that make any sense to you?” Of course it didn’t, but he was still not budging. The battle raged on!

We continued to parry and joust, me trying to strategically replace words and scenarios to gain the upper hand, and him still denying any wrong doing. Twenty minutes later something happened! My tenacity must have been wearing him because the first sign of weakness appeared. “Ok, I will remove the charge for the oil flush off the bill”($36). My instincts told me to keep chomping at the bit. Ten more minutes of firing solid argumentative jabs resulted in a bid to cut the entire $363 bill in half. I had chopped his leg off! He had revealed himself to me, and I knew I had him in the corner. This guy’s stock was sinking quicker than the september 2008 sell off in the market.

“I’m not sure if I agree with that” I said confidently. “That is my final offer” he told me like a game show host! His one remaining leg wobbled and his eyes lost focus as he revealed to me his guilt. What he was really saying was “This is my last chance to win the war!” I stayed flat lined and told him “Well, I just want this oil leak fixed. So let me see what it is going to cost. Then I will call you back.” I wanted to tell him that I was going to throw the dice, see what was behind door number two, use a life line, or something of the sort, but I didn’t.

In minutes we started up the beast and headed into town with Joshua and gang. We dropped Hoe-Nay off at a local Jiffy Lube to fix the leak. After explaining everything to Anthony, the super friendly manager(sound familiar?), we left. While they planned to remedy things, we had planned to eat lunch. After our meal I had pictured us jumping in our newly fixed vehicle of voyage, warming her up, and driving off into the sunset. Well anyone who has experienced this trip called life knows that things do not always play out as we expect. The advice I give to others and that I often need to give to myself is to “expect nothing, and enjoy everything”.

We were enjoying pitas when, in the middle of one of Cory’s crazy stories, my phone rang. Anthony reported back, “You’ve got a massive oil leak, and I would not advise you to drive this vehicle anywhere. You need to get it into a full service shop that can take certain components out and get to the source of the leak. One other thing is that you only had 1 of the 4 quart capacity upon arrival! To be quite honest with you, the flush of your engine they gave you in SD only increased the leak. I don’t know what they were thinking. I don’t really know why they would sell you a flush”. There it was! Those were the magical words, the closing statement of our trial.

We returned to the W.I.S.H. for L.O.V.E. home and were lucky enough to meet Joshua’s friend Robert, a kind soul with an intelligent smile and a warm heart. He recommended us to go see his friend Jim at Purcell Tire and Body Shop. Loving the connections we can create for each other, I immediately called and set up an appointment for the following day. We ended the night by watching V for Vendetta projected on a 8x14 screen. Incredible! I popped two Tylenol colds and was out before the government feared the people.

Joshua and Raegan dropped us off at the RV in front of Jiffy Lube the next morning. Now we had to figure how to move the beast. I called Ian who came through big with three letters “AAA”. An hour later Tom, the tow truck guy from New York, roared into the parking lot in what he called the “small guy” of the fleet. It was the hugest tow truck I had ever seen. I thanked him for coming. “Hey, that’s what we are here for,” he smiled and offered his outreached hand. Even though I would have preferred an introductory hug, the hand shake was firm and charactered. I know, I know. Why a hug? Because it’s a more detailed version of a handshake, far more personal and revealing. Although hugs from strangers make many uncomfortable, it doesn’t stop me from putting myself out there. My favorite is when I meet a couple. I go after the girl first as the guy gets all jealous and mad. Then I turn to him and lean in for some love, spreading more confusion. It’s so fun to keep folks on their heels, guessing, and learning. You see, hugs are genderless, and I want others to know that it is ok to receive love in the form of a hug. What can I do, I’m a super hero with hugs as my power. I will prevail!

Tom did his thing as I wrote this note for Anthony and friends.

gentlemen at jiffy lube,

honesty and kindness are hard to come by

and we came by both with you...

thank you for your help and

understanding with the RV..

we are greatly appreciative... fritz & aaron

We also wanted to give them some cash for their efforts, but only had $13. Actually I had $13, and when I turned to Giggles I got a not so confident look. With Tom sweating already, we couldn’t possibly stiff him. Gig opened the (not working) fridge in the RV and handed me the solution, one of the 25oz bottles in our prized box of yummy expensive beers for the trip.

Their eyes lit up in thanks as we delivered it. “Awesome, we’re gonna get krunk right now”. We walked away smiling, but didn’t make it ten steps before hearing Anthony. “Hey, just one more thing. If you look at your original receipt from the San Diego shop, you will see that they have marked that you came in with a full tank of oil. That is proof that the problem was not preexisting and that they made a huge error. Man I would have them fully compensate you for the towing and whatever it takes to get the oil leak fixed” Wowsers, this guy just gave us the keys to the kingdom! “Thank you brother. Be well”.

When we got to the tow truck Tom was ready for us. We climbed up into the fortress on wheels, foot to hand, about half a flight of stairs to our seats. Immediately we knew how lucky we were with this guy! There was an energetic vibrance in him, as well as an endearing genuine nature. He pulled into traffic and had shifted six of the ten gears before we were even at 30 MPH. What a trip! Tom was so friendly that we ended up talking with him the entire 45 minute tow. We spoke of our journey. In your typical New York accent he summed it up, “I’m envious of you guys. You are going to have the time of your life!” We pulled into Purcell Tire and Body Shop with exuberance because we had been reminded that we both were exactly where we needed to be on our life journey. And that my friends, is pure motivation to keep on truckin.

Jim, the manager, was the first person to approach us. He extended his hand like a president to visiting diplomats. I knew we were his friends before any words were even exchanged! He immediately perused the scene to give us his diagnosis. In less than a minute he said in a thick Saudi accent, “Why could they not work on this?” A chuckle escaped him. “This is easy” he said as a mischievous smile was displayed on his face, like he had figured out the secret of life and might have been willing to reveal it.

A grunt turned our attention to Tom, who was lifting one of many 100 pound iron planks that held the RV in place. We were so happy we kept the dough for him, and even accompanied it with 3 granola bars to replenish some of his spent energy (for simple travelers, this was the best we could do). His profuse sweating was interrupted by gratitude. Tom then brought the contract for Ian Denchasey to sign. This was the final test. My nervous hand made a big “I” and scribbled the rest. We knew our secret was safe when Tom waved good bye to us as he drove the “small guy” into traffic.

Here is a poem i wrote that week. I ended up writing a bunch of poetry during our voyage, and have decided to include one or two every once in a while for your reading pleasure...

tag me a mortal wound,

inquiring impending doom,

space distanced continuum

happenstance reverenced serum

children leading parentals

to perceptive realities

dreams become casualties

in this war of mental confusion

everything accepted an illusion

breathe in information

to breathe out education

sub stations of elation

buried thousands of miles from star style stations

of mass populations equation,

can’t stop the phasing

of whole populations

to equally studded fates

of miscalculations...041409

Jiffy Lube Fiasco (pictures)

why would Fritz be looking at the kite and how close it was to the electrical phone lines when the sunset was so damn beautiful!

Fritz's obligatory messiah pose(for Ian) in W.I.S.H. for L.O.V.E backyard. Adding color to the desert. Note: This was right after Giggles through a huge boulder in the bush to make sure there were no copperheads or other friendly snakes hiding out in the cuts... Fritz was a bit nervous when he found that out just before the shot was snapped...

cacti flowers trying to compete with fritz's color affair...

teammates of the other beautiful flowers...

Tim The Tow Truck Guy radiating even after much labor, with $13, and three granola bars...

WISHforLOVE...~BLOG#4~

04/14/09 ~blog#4~

Thank god we are out of Felicity. A wind blown road sign says Gila Bend 4 miles. I am hungry and I know Fritz needs a rest. It’s been a scorcher of a day. The drive has been shirtless and I wish the air conditioner worked.

“Hey, don’t blink we are at Gila Bend.”

“Good I am starved.”

“You’re a machine.”

“Pull over there.”

A large light blue one-story building stands out among all the others. The sign on top of the entrance says “Space Age Restaurant.” There are paintings of shuttles and astronauts surrounding this place. The entire spot looks like the puzzle piece that never fits anywhere. Gila Bend appears as if it were a nuclear town from the 1950’s that time forgot. A space café is the last thing we were expecting.

“We are eating there.”

“What a crazy looking place.”

Exhausted, we saunter into the restaurant. Inside they are playing elevator doo-wop on the jukebox. The checkerboard floors and chrome barstools give off the 1950’s diner vibe. Space murals of cosmonauts and planets adorn the walls along with old time photographs.

A rough looking brunette with caked makeup says.

“It’s open seating.”

We pick a table by the windows.

“You ready to order?”

“We just sat down.”

After waiting for 15 minutes the raggedy broke brunette comes back.

“You ready now?”

“Ya, were gonna split a Mexican Pizza. Coffee for me.”

“I’ll have a water.”

She brings out the food. It’s plain and boring. A flour tortilla with too much lettuce, shysty portions of tomatoes and cheese, and the taco meat was borderline Taco Bell. It’s a far cry from Taco Surf. Mowing it down we melt into the pleathery glitter cushions of the booth. Out the window the sun is fading fast.

Walking out of the mediocre diner we see a jaw dropping turn you out type of sunset. The wind has picked up and the American flag in front of the restaurant is cracking like a whip. Fritz is squinting his eyes to keep them open .The gusts are stinging with dust-sand and I wish I brought sunglasses.

“I am getting the kite.”

“Alright, just remember to stay away from the power lines.”

We hike up to the “Conference Room.” The view is pretty spectacular. The boxy Toy Story kite is pulling like a marlin. I think Fritz might fly off the roof.

“I’m gonna give it some slack.”

The kite darts out 40 feet. Sailing it around Fritz is 8 years old again.

“I am going to let out a little more line.”

Literally the kite is 3 feet away from the power lines.

“Ha, ha. Did you see that? Holy shit.”

“Bro, you are going to vaporize us. Reel it in”

I climb down the back ladder, shaking my head with a smile. Fritz hops back in the RV with kite in hand.

“That was awesome.”

“Yes Fritz, awesome enough to get electrocuted.” I say halfway serious.

“If were not abducted by cult members, there is always getting fried in the power lines.”

We laugh heading down the interstate to Scottsdale. We are going to the “Sacred G House” were his pal Josh lives.

“Joshua works with his buddies selling Sacred Geometry and energy infused oils. He takes care of the business end. There company is called “Wish For L.OV.E.””

“So who exactly are we visiting? And what do they do?”

“My buddy Joshua owns part of this company called Wish for Love. They sell posters and coasters with Sacred Geometry on them. The patterns are algorithms that have healing properties. Josh lives with there with his girlfriend Regan. She is a sort of fortune telling numerologist.”

“So they sell geometric patterns on paper? Do they make money any money?”

“I know it sounds different and I am not sure I buy into 100% of it but Josh believes it. So I don’t discount it.”

“Who else lives there?”

“Jacob lives there too. He is a musician and is the cook. You are gonna like him. I think he’s in charge of shipping.”

“So they have their own cook?”

“You’ll see when we get there. O h, Bro’ the house they live in is sick. You are gonna love it.”

“So who else lives there, Fritz? Are you saving the best for last?”

“Cory and his girlfriend Amanda also live there.” Fritz doesn’t elaborate. It’s quiet for a few moments.

“And they do what?”

“Cory founded the company. He was in a bad car accident when he was young and supposedly visited the other side. He has claimed to have hundreds of near death out of body experiences. Beings from those episodes taught him how to heal himself. The geometry is part of what they taught him.”

“You know how nuts that sounds right? What do you think of Cory?”

“Bro’ you make up your own mind about Cory. I can’t wait for the hot tub and they have awesome couches.”

“We are couching it tonight. Sweet. What does Amanda do?”

“I don’t know exactly what she does. Ask her when we get there. That oil that I am always wearing, 137 Essential Oils, they sell too and the company name “L.O.V.E. is an acronym for Laws of Vibrational Energy.” Any questions you have ask Josh.”

They live in the Mojave dessert. It is really far from the major part of Flagstaff, where I thought we’d be staying. We pull into a gated community. The houses look large. I pull out my cell phone and I have zero bars.

“We might have to park her outside of the community. I don’t think we are allowed to park inside.”

“Well can we find a spot inside for the night and move Hoe-Nay in the morning?”

“That will work. If not we will move her. That’s there house right there.”

I am starring at a thick Spanish-American style home. The rocky landscaping is lit up and outlining the house. Fritz and I scurry up the walk way and knock on the large white front door. At the base of the door there is a line of salt. It reminds me of some movie where salt was used to repel the bad guys. I am just saying.

Fritz pushes open the door and I can smell a concentration of the 137 Essential Oils. It’s an over powering mix of: anisette, eucalyptus, and lavender. From what I can smell it is not bad, it’s just over powering anything else. I guess if the RV smelled this way by the end of the trip I wouldn’t complain.

“Oh ya, the oil is supposed to positively charge the air too.”

Joshua comes out and gives Fritz one of the longest man hugs I’ve ever seen. I get a lesser version. Joshua has the light hair light eyes California guy look. Though his facial hair makes him look much older.

“Make yourselves at home. Everyone else is at the gym or still working.” His voice echoes through the empty house and off the 30-foot ceilings.

“I am ready for a hot tub.” Fritz says making his way through the sliding glass door of the atrium with padded floors.

We grab bottles of Hoegarden and hop into the pond of a Jacuzzi. I can see Fritz isn’t feeling so hot. He is stoked to see Joshua but the energy is low. I can feel it in myself too. My nose starts running and I am starting to get a headache.

“I need to lay down.”

“Me too.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………

I meet the inner workings of Wish for L.O.V.E.

Jacob is a huskier guy with a beard and dark features. He resembles a human version of a teddy bear. He is polite and standoffish.

“Hey Aaron, good to meet you.” Pulls me in for a hug. “You want a powershake with blueberries?”

He goes off to the kitchen.

Amanda is a sharp looking wispy white girl. There is something ballerina-esque with her posture and attire. She has an air about her that I cannot read.

“Nice to meet you.” She shakes my hand and disappears into the backrooms of the house.

Regan is the short bubbly boisterous chick. She has been laughing in between every word out of her mouth. Her upper lip looks like it was stung by bees, and even though she is wearing a Stevie Nicks shawl I can still notice her large fake cans. The Eryka Badu hair wrap and gypsy getup cannot hide the doctor’s touch.

“So good to meet you. Ha ha (smile).” Ass-out hug and she skips off to the opposite side of the house where her and Josh live.

Cory is a shirtless stout man with a very young face and baldhead. The contrast between the plugs in his ears, tribal tattoos wrapped around his upper torso, don’t match his smile or blue eyes.

“Aeh guy, Aaron right? Nice to meet you buddy.” Giving me a one-arm-hand-shake guy hug pat on the back.

Jacob comes back with shakes for Fritz and I they taste like they have Robutussin in them. At this point I am feeling sick enough I hope there is medicine in this concoction. I stomach it down and pass out on their plush couch.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Fritz and I are delirious for the next couple of days. We are sick on the couches. Its weird too cause the sacred geometry is everywhere in the house and the oil too. The energy from our bodies is drained. We are in and out of consciousness and interaction with the people in the house.

At one point I was swinging around a glow in the dark octopus in the pitch-black atrium. Reagan came in and said, “Oh it’s you.” “Yes, who did you think it was?” “I thought the aliens were back.” With a serious face and went skipping back to her room.

Josh came and checked on us every once and a while. Cory and Jacob went outside and had cigarette breaks periodically throughout the days. A few brief encounters here and there and a dinner are forgettable, until.

“Fuck, you Cory.” Amanda shrieks. Something glass hits the wall and shatters.

“Fuck you bitch. You’re crazy.” Cory shouts.

“I am fucking done. You can’t keep doing this Cory.” Amanda’s ear-piercing voice echoes through the halls.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Cory shouts.

“You piece of shit.”

“Get the fuck out of here bitch. You’re psycho.” Cory says. A loud thud sounds from something hitting the wall.

“Josh! Jacob! Stop him!” Amanda screams. The hustle of footsteps breaks down the hall.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cory persists.

“Fuck you Cory. You can’t keep doing this.” She cries screaming.

“Get the fuck out.”

“Put me down. Ahhh Eeeaahhh!” Kicking and screaming she cries.

“Fuck off bitch.” The front door slams and locks.

We exit Joshua’s room. Fritz and I pack up our gear.

“Thank you for having us.” I say smiling at Joshua.

“Guys we can’t end it on that note.”

“We aren’t ending it on that note. Josh we’ll see you in Sedona.” I add.

“Lets have lunch.” Fritz suggests.

Reagan chases after Amanda. They take off in her maroon Eclipse.

“Guess we are having a guy lunch.”

We cruise for twenty minutes finding the restaurant. We pick a table outside and sit down. Cory and Jacob light up cigarettes.

“Cory, you need to cut her off. Get rid of that man. I had an ex-girlfriend that stabbed me with a fork and I kept her around, it only got worse.”

“Amanda went up to Canada after the first time we broke up and fucked my ex-wife.” Cory says.

“That is brutal. I recommend getting rid off all the photos and presents. Anything that reminds you of her, get rid of it. Delete all the nice e-mails and text messages.”

“What about the girl that stabbed you with a fork?” Cory remarks.

“She ended up sleeping with a supposed friend I had been boys with for over 10 years. Than I got rid of everything she ever made or gave me. I cut her off, the dude too.” I say.

“One time we were in the car and she started screaming, punching, and kicking me. I slammed her into the door. She ended up ripping off her clothes and running around a parking lot naked. Then she jumped back in the car and started sucking her thumb, like a baby.” Cory says.

“Dude, that might have been a red flag.” I remark.

“With a company called Wish for Love, you can’t afford to go to jail for domestic abuse.” Jacob adds.

“Nobody can afford that shit.” Fritz says and changes the subject. “I am stoked on shopping for Burning Man gear in Sedona?”

Cory interrupts.

“One year at Burning Man I took an entire bag of mushrooms then went into a pitch black box with a flashlight and a Ouija Board for 5 hours.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun.”

“It was intense. Blah blah blah.” That is the last thing I heard him say.

WISHforLOVEpics...

"Up in the Atmosphere, Up where the Air is Clear. Oh, lets go fly a kite."

"Lets go fly a kite and sent it soaring"

Sacred G Atrium room with padded floors

geometric messiah pose...

Where Fritz and I spent our sick days. Note the couches...

Aaron jumping for joy about getting to take a shower

Fritz untying the most complex necklace ever

Reagan reading tarot on Sacred G poster

Cacti from the Mojave Desert

fritz demonstrates his dominance over the desert creatures...

Group Picture: Starting from Left to Right
Joshua, Reagan, Cory, Amanda, Jacob, Fritz, Aaron(Giggles)

goofing off...

selling off...

peeing in plastic, perfection&affection...~BLOG#5~

4/15/09 ~blog#5~

The seven hour drive into Arizona was nothing short of horrible for my back. An old injury that had never been fixed decided to flare up from the tension on my muscles. The burning, nagging discomfort began directly under my right shoulder blade, and gradually made its way up into my neck. My thoughts could not depart from how badly I wished for us to be there.

The annoying pain was eased by a green and white sign revealing “Scottsdale 140mi”. We were more than half way there! I gained steam knowing how wonderful it was going to be to see Joshua again. Being behind the wheel, I pounded what Giggles calls a “Monster Light” to keep me attentive and awake(“Light” or “Heavy” refers to whether the Monster Energy Drink has sugar).

In just a few more miles we began to hear a very loud clicking and clanging sound coming from the engine. Being ignorant champions of automobiles, neither of us knew what it could be. We did know two things: (1)that it was not there before & (2)that thing(1)was a bad sign. We both agreed to pull off at the next gas station and look under the hood. For what? We had no clue. We were just following the steps that almost every other American would take: pop her open, check the oil, and then look around under the hood pretending to know what we were doing. That is what you are supposed to do, right?

About 15 miles later we found a station. Giggles checked the oil and I climbed into the back of the cockpit to pee using our highest frequency method, a plastic bottle. I lifted the 1-gallon pee jug off the ground, ignoring its heaviness as I turned the cap of the wide-mouth and began to pee. The fumes rising from below made me gag! I breathed through my mouth and hurried my business because I didn’t want to puke on myself. I then found frustration in the fact that one of my fingers was somehow wet. Oh well, hand sanitizer would fix that. What can I say? We are morons and like to punish ourselves! That first week of the trip, we learned the value of a newly drank water jug.

Returning to the cockpit, “Giggles, how is the oil?”

“It’s fine!”

“A good sign” I thought to myself as I watched him do the rest of the fake snooping. Then we were off.

The rest of the trip was long, and the engine’s incessant ring synchronized with the pulsing demon in my back, serving as a reminder that things were not right. Reaching Joshua’s gated community at the outskirts of Scottsdale was a milestone. With Hoe-Nay parked pretty tightly between his big house and the big house next to it, we walked to the door. I looked back at the beast and saw just how out of place she looked.

The front door was unlocked like always, but I knocked anyway. As the door opened so did my heart. I stepped forward and embraced my wonderful friend as I let the good that was within me enter him and circle back to me. Joshua and I have an energy in our hugs that is supernatural. Each one last from seconds to multiple minutes. I am sure some people get uncomfortable just watching two men exhibit so much love and appreciation.

This particular hug filled me up with all I was lacking, and returned my essence to me. It was powerful, gripping, and euphoric. I felt at home, and so grateful to be there. He is one of the most amazing people I will ever meet in my life. He is pure love.

Joshua immediately turned to a box that the Lovely Georgia (my favorite person in life/most compassionate and charming soul mate) had sent me which contained blinking octopus toys, love, and the only remedy I knew at the time regarding my back pain, muscle relaxers. After throwing one down the hatch, I looked down to see it had been sent over night. I became frustrated at her because I had requested it to be sent by two day mail, and was almost sure she had used my credit card.

Oh my god, who was I sounding like? In that instance I didn’t realize it, but I had somehow jumped into the role of my father, and Lovely Georgia was now me. You see, my father has gotten on me before for sending birthday cards and whatnot overnight to him because of the expense. The current situation was only a reflection of my past. Shortly after my initial frustration I would learn why it was perfect to happen this way, and in the end didn’t matter.

We made our way into the back yard excited to enter the hot tub that Joshua had been stoking for the past hour. With a Hoegarden in my hand, I slowly stepped in. Taking my first sip of the night, the frustration with my condition began to be relieved. The cool briskness met my insides as the soothing warmth of the water touched my extremities. The contrast was just what my body needed.

As conversation started, my muscles began to ease, hinting to me that the pill was hard at work. With a renewing body, it donned on me how fortunate I was. “Joshua, you know what? It’s funny how things work out. If she hadn’t of sent the package over night, then I would not have gotten it as we walked into your home, which was the time I needed it the most. And that means that I would not entirely be feeling better this very moment. I owe her all the credit in the world for doing something that at first sight upset me. ” He smiled.

Everything in this life happens for a reason, and the more we let our emotions take us over, the further we get from realizing all the connections. I went from anger and frustration over a silly thing like money, all the way to a great state of being and gratitude for what and who I had. It all happened because I took a step back, looking at the situation in the right light without emotion to see how perfect it was. Now just imagine if I had the discipline to do this with everything in my life. Further, imagine what if everyone did this with everything in their lives. So pop, how good was it to receive those cards on time?

Leaning back I enjoyed the hot bubbles crashing against my ear. My eyes closed in comfort as I folded myself into the environment. Although it was a struggle and a half to get there, and I had pushed myself to the threshold of self induced pain, it all dissipated because “we had arrived”. That night I really knew what The Tempatations meant when they sang, “papa was a rollin stone, wherever he laid his hat was his home”.

The next morning was different. We woke in disarray, sick and tired. Despite Joshua checking in with us from time to time, the aura of the home had a hold on us. The depletion of our energy would haunt our bodies the entirety of the stay. We were in the dirt for three days... (Moral: We affect one another. In any given atmosphere we follow suit to that which is around us because it is natural for us to influence and be influenced. The more people, the more powerful. So with a positive environment, our spirits can be elevated. The danger is that the same holds true with negative environments. The sad truth was that at the W.I.S.H for L.O.V.E home, the empire was striking back)

Felicity...~BLOG #3~

~blog#3~

I start to nod off after seeing sand dunes. I wake-up noticing something in the distance. “Woah, look at that.” Fritz’s voice sounds like he just saw the pirate ship from Goonies.

A large white chapel reveals itself sitting on top of a hill in the middle of the Sonora Desert. It looks like a white spike that speared up from the empty ground.

“You want to check it out?”

I hesitate, “I don’t know. Do you?”

“Yes!”

As we exit the off-ramp and hop on a dusty dirt road Fritz notices a man that looks in his early 30’s.

“Look at how red that man’s neck is.”

The sun has raped this man’s neck to blisters. Passing him we shake it off. We pull up to a large sign that resembles one you might see entering a National Park. It reads,

“History In Granite.”

Below, “$5.00 donations – Honor System”

Fritz hops out dropping a five spot in a little yellow box beneath the sign. To our left we see a freestanding spiral staircase two and a half stories high. It leads to nowhere.

“Checkout those stairs.” Fritz’s eyes let me know he wants to climb to the top of them and have his picture taken.

“Fritz it’s surrounded by a gate.”

“I could hop that thing.”

Not a good sign when your road-trip-pal wants to trespass on a crazy staircase in the middle of no-where and we are entering a compound that is a geometric Waco Texas on steroids.

There is symmetry in the positioning of every structure out here. Branch Davidian style buildings run parallel to each other. A sign says apartments for rent.

“Who in their right mind would want to live out here?”

“I am going to pull this beast around, incase we need to leave fast.”

Fritz points the RV toward the highway. We cautiously get out. The air is dry and it’s a fucking ghost town. My ability to conjure words is gone while venturing out. Fritz is wearing a floral skirt, sandals, and nothing else. In front of us are granite walls strategically placed throughout the center of the compound. Inscribed on them are the origins of humanity and the history of civilization. Recordings similar to a Rosetta Stone are all I can compare them to. Encyclopedias on granite tablets are all over the place. I snap shots of Fritz and make my way to the church mound. Leaping up the long plain staircase I get to the chapel. It’s modest compared to most Christian Shrines. Looking down from the top I get a full layout of the land. Fritz is climbing on the center of a crude metal obelisk in the center of the walls. Circling the building I see a square formation of stones with a large granite plaque in the center. It’s a tombstone stating, “This is Consecrated Ground.” The names of their dead dress the polished stone. I snap a picture before heading back down the stairs. Halfway down I look and see the man with the redneck bee-lining toward Fritz. My hands glide over the camera, sliding the memory card into my pocket. I scurry down the stairs toward both of them. Fritz can’t seem to hear me.

“Bro’ its time to leave.”

He is in awe of the granite walls. I head to Hoe-Nay. Mr. Redneck stops me.

“Are you with him.” Pointing at Fritz.

“Yes.”

“Mayor Istel wants to speak to both of you. He owns the town.”

“Town of what? This is a compound.” I say in my head.

By know Fritz notices that I was talking to Mr. Redneck. Hurrying over he asks what he wants.

“He said that the mayor wants to speak with us.”

Fritz cautiously laughs, “the mayor of what?”

Mr. Redneck looks back from where he is sitting pretending he didn’t hear Fritz. Mr. Redneck picks up a tool connected to a generator and starts chiseling away. The question about his redneck is answered.

We walk over to the two major buildings to take a look at the 21-foot granite pyramid in front of the center watchtowers. A sign next to the pyramid states, “This is the center of our world.” What a sweet idea, now my heart is beating in Morse code, “time to go, time to go, time to go.” My wheels keep turning about how rational this is or lack there of. Suddenly I sense people are watching us. We are two slices of Swiss cheese with light beaming through the holes about to melt.

Walking around one of the buildings Fritz notices two men standing on top of a staircase pretending not to notice us. He lets out an echoing whisper.

“Hook around the side.”

We try swiftly avoiding the two men, but then we hear,

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

From around the corner comes a withered Chinese woman. Her skin looks leathery from the Sonora Sun.

“Please come inside.” The witch from Hansel and Gretel has just been given a voice.

“Why?” Fritz replies.

“So we can talk.”

“We can talk out here.” Fritz is not backing down.

“We want to ask you about what you’ve seen here today.”

“We are uncomfortable going inside.” Fritz just throws it out there.

“We want to show you a movie that we show everyone.”

I interject, “Ma’am, we are uncomfortable with that.”

“What are you doing here? Who are you?” She shrieks.

“We thought this was a tourist site from the sign out front. We paid the $5.00 donation.” I say.

Her mood changes like a light switch going off. “That was very kind of you. Thank you.”

She snaps back into berserker mode at Fritz, “Pull down your pants!”

“Why do you want me to pull down my pants?” His skirt sinks past his Abercrombie waist.

We are walking speedily to Hoe-Nay.

She is screaming now. “Just leave. Get out of here! Ahh!”

The two men that were on the staircase we avoided are behind her speed walking at our heels. Jumping into the RV we lock the doors starting her on the first try. Leaving a dust cloud behind us we breathe a sigh of relief. Our hearts are flapping like flags in a hurricane. Then a sign pops up as we hop back on the interstate. “Thank you for visiting the town of Felicity.”

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