All that sparkles

I have a friend called Buck. He's early thirties, widowed, with three little girls. Needless to say I get many a laugh from his antics. Most recent being an incident that entailed a three in the morning phone call. Buck called his babysitter, then grabbed jeans from the back of the couch. Several hours later, he was at his other job, leaning under the hood of an automobile. His co-worker walked over and asked him how women's jeans feel. Buck looked at his backside and was horrified to discover that the jeans he had grabbed that morning were his thirteen year old daughters, complete with sparkles on the butt pockets. After hearing this anecdote I laughed for several minutes. Buck is a good guy though, one of the last true cowboys of the RMW and a model for younger males. Here is a guy who on the surface comes across like a dumb redneck, its a facade, and I have seen him take down the facade and completely turn an expert on their head. Why this? experience. Buck like many in Wyoming is self-educated. Like myself he learned through observation and imitation. Growing up on and around ranches had absolutely NO influence on this what so ever. He and I were watching horses one day, they were fidgeting, restless, running to one side of the pens then back. "Bet there's a storm coming." He stated. "Yep" I agreed. The next day we woke up to a blizzard, and the reality of horses and cows is they need fed as much as you do. So who's out driving an open tractor in minus twenty weather? Buck. And who was stupid enough to volunteer to ride on the hay trailer? Me. To us though it was just a fact of life. There were other people who could of done this of course, but horses need reliability.

Your own Backyard

I make it a point to know where I am at. This is located downtown Laramie, Wyoming. Why do I bring this up? I have a friend, Codename: Plush, she has been in Laramie for a number of years and knows very little about the place. Makes me wonder though, how many people think of their own town as a travel destination?

   My son and I have journeyed out on several occasions. Most recent we made it our mission to find a connection between the 15th st bridge and a bridge that is near the local Walmart. We turned off 3rd st onto Skyline Dr.(why its called skyline is beyond me)and we followed Skyline to were it ended in Fox hill estates we followed several streets in the area and they all looped back into each other or dead ended in peoples driveways. So we went back on Skyline and turned onto Soldier Springs Road, Soldier Springs ended at Howe Road and we could go right or left. Right crossed the Railroad tracks so obviously that would go back to the High Way. We took left and three miles later found that Howe road dead ended at a limestone quarry. By this time it was starting to get dark and it was decided that we should head back into town following Howe Road, which of course lead us to the High Way, then to 3rd st. We hopped on the interstate and took the Grand exit and stopped at Almanza's for chips. Spud bounced around as nine year olds do till the chips arrived. Then it was,"I don't like Cheddar. Can we get a Churro?" Kids.

    I look at the above piece of graffiti and wonder who did it. Like anything though it is only there because some one wanted to leave a sign of their passing. I took the picture of not only it but several other graffiti works around Laramie. Spud was with me of course, his original plan being Sweet Pickles. They were closed so he and I took advantage of  a warm November day and explored downtown Laramie. Yes our own back yard.

17th feb

February 17th

I woke up and felt the five o' clock shadow on my face and realized that I needed to shave. I took my time, as one does after three days off. Finishing that task I walked into the kitchen and started coffee, my dad was up,tying his shoes. He looked at me and asked about a co-worker who had recently suffered a head injury. I told him what I knew. From here our conversation drifted around like some transient cloud of smoke from a train. The final conclusion being that everything is only a big deal if it is made into one.

      In the beginning of 2008, Dad fell off a scaffold. Twelve feet to a recently poured concrete floor. My brother called me. At the time I was a clerk for Maverick C-store in Sheridan, Wyo. D, was very matter of fact. After he had told me the details I cashed out my drawer and went to the hospital where I found my Dad alive but not. Through all this everybody, my mom included, behaved as if it was just another day and that nothing was out of the ordinary. No one changed or adjusted their behavior to accommodate the invalid instead by being ourselves the invalid was encouraged to behave as we did. My son, Spud, was five at the time. He would sit with his grandpa or go somewhere with his grandpa and would then tell his grandpa what was going on and what things like hamburgers were. No one told him not to talk to Grandpa or ask Grandpa questions, thought never even occurred to me until now. No, instead he was allowed to be a five year old curious about why his Grandpa was dead but then alive. No one said "Spud sit still for Grandpa."  NO, he was allowed to behave as a five year old, even the kids of a friend of mine were allowed to be themselves. What does my experience with traumatic head injury really say? I will quote my father on this one, he's the "survivor" after all.  "I had two choices I could sit under the bridge with my bottle whining about how I have a baby-head or I can shrug and say f-it, so what."

   The aforementioned co-worker woke today, I was told that he knew who he was etc. In the cafe where we both work you could feel the tension leave like a popped balloon. I know that not all will be the same,whatever the circumstances of his accident it has impacted his life and the lives of those around him. 

   

A Day Remembered

I am Zphlip. Gonzo of Wyoming and sage of the Rockies. Ok maybe not but thats beside the point, point is it is a new day and somewhere somehow the cycle begins anew.

  I was born and raised in and around the Rocky Mountain (henceforth RM) and Pacific North West (hence forth PNW), and only recently did it occur to me to share in a journalistic fashion the various happenings of the RM and PNW areas.

February 12 2013---
I had risen early and arrived at my real job the local Shari's Cafe with little to no intent of remaining for my entire shift. The weather a fair, winter day, somewhere between comfortable and sub-arctic. After performing some meaningless tasks it was decided that my presence was not needed.  I left the cafe and headed home. Arriving I carelessly through the still burning cigarette to the ground as I exited my mode of vehicular transportation, for some reason this made me think of manslaughter and mass genocide. How that was I don't know, but the idea hit that somewhere a mass grave of slaughtered innocence was rising, intent in their unbreakable will to eat the living. Either way the concept fascinated me but then I dismissed it and called Hulk. "Hello".
"You ready to go snow boarding?" I asked
"Yeah. Can Ned come?"
"Of course."
"kewl kewl, give me like thirty minutes."
"Done."
 I walked into the house my parents looking at me guiltily, like teenagers that have been caught. There was some brief banter about kids walking in on parents and parents walking in on kids before I go on to other tasks, loading the transport with equipment being the highest priority.After this I convinced my Dad to go as well. I drove over to Hulks house just as Ned was approaching. He turned as I drove up and waved. I got out and pleasantries were exchanged. Ned was about to enter the car then decided it would be more beneficial to go into the house and retrieve Hulk. Making three strides he stopped and looking confusedly at his phone casually sent a text message. A moment later Hulk appeared carrying a suspicious coat which concealed a paint ball gun. Stashing the weapon we told Ned that my drivers side passenger door was not functioning, a fact that was repeated three times before the message found its way into Ned's cranium. Hulk still held a Co2 canister that was empty. Brief stops at local merchants rendered no results for the sought gas but did result in a smaller member of the female sex being referred too as fun size. For the most part Dad was silent, reading his books working on notes for school, Hulk had made the inside of the car ripe with the smell of controlled substances and this seemed to effect everyone. We drove out on to I-80. The Sun shined down, reflecting its light across the snow and causing a strange landscape of shadows. Soon we entered the pass and began to ascend, the surrounding tree lined hills all blanketed in a white sheen. All so peaceful and beautiful. I took the turn off at Happy Jack Road and with in a few minutes we had boots on, had all smoked a cigarette and proceeded to carve a trail for the object with which we were in awe. It did not take long for us to realize how much smoking effects your breath. Despite this,after a few runs we felt it necessary to find steeper fair, which after plowing through a five foot drift we did. Hulk went first followed by Ned, then at last myself. I had brought a handycam and with it I documented our excursion, sarcastic comments, brotherly ribbings. Co-workers,these young men were, I had only met them a year ago but yet I in some way viewed them as my baby brothers. The end of the ride came, and we hiked back to the car chatting,laughing enjoying the result of our adventure. At the car we poured coffee and played a round of Hacky Sack the small ball bouncing hither and yon, my foot, Hulks foot, Ned's foot, someone would miss and the ball would come to rest in the snow, a light blue and orange accent in a sea of white. Finally we loaded into the car and returned to Laramie. All of us looking forward to the next time.

This photo was taken two days before our snowboarding journey, Hulk and I stopped and each of us took a photo from where we stopped. I was helping him move that day and this was our last trip to his old house. " My new place is so awesome man" He said, "Its going to be so rad to go hiking this summer too." It was the Sunset of his life though, a week later Hulk fell, and even when he wakes up he will have passed into a different state of being, and how he was will only be remembered by his friends and family. Much like my father.