Lefty Limbo

Hot like soup

of fire and coal bits

burning embers

I’ll ask for seconds

Head into hell

unwashed, unfazed

Freon gone

overcome

Loosen the grip

hands-free

valley sun

burning me

clocking out

I’ve noticed an unusual amount of dead honeybees lately. This is both at my home (in my driveway, especially) and at my work (I just found 7 of them this morning, all within a 10 ft. radius). At home, too, I’ve seen many bees on the ground, weak and dying, as if they’d been poisoned.

I can only assume that this is a result of Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD), which has been mysteriously wiping out bee colonies worldwide. This article sums it up pretty well.

Now, knowing that we’re screwed has hardly surprised me lately. At least 5 years ago I noticed a remarkable change in the weather patterns and felt an ever-increasing “disappearance of seasons.” Sure, this is L.A., but when I was a kid I remember a real rainy season, complete with soaked Vans slip-ons, rained-out recess periods (checkers!) and puddle powerslides on my Mongoose BMX. These days it seems like rain comes once a year, and when it does arrive, it’s a trickle, quickly vaporized by the impending sun.

Now I don’t know if the global warming trend is partly to blame for the honeybees’ demise. But seeing these dead bees gives me the feeling that the shit may hit the fan much, much sooner than we think. I saw a program on PBS not long ago that discussed how much we and the world relied on the lives of honeybees. I discovered that our lives literally depend on them. Put it this way—if they go, we go soon afterwards.

The program Silence of the Bees illustrates this bleak reality even further.

Yet another pleasant thought to whisk me through the day. Skippity-skip.

So I’ve decided to participate in a “Biggest Loser” style contest, where whoever loses the largest amount of body fat percentage in three months takes home a big pot of money. I figure it’s a good motivation to get in shape, and who knows, I just might win.

The body fat percentage is measured by this modern scale that sends an electric current through your bare feet (which you place on the scale), measuring the amount of fat in your body and calculating according to total weight, I suppose. I found it interesting to see my percentage when I stood on the scale, and imagined an electric current zig-zagging through all the bright yellow, globulous fat deposits throughout my body. I guess like Fantastic Voyage. That would be cool if I could strap a cam onto that electric current as it traveled.

Let the games begin.

So we found this kid wandering around on our front yard. He didn’t have any tags or anything, so we took him in. He’s been living with us since. He’s fun to have around, and also alerts us to any intruders on our property.

On arrival to the valley floor, I peer out the window to see a small, semi-flattened furry hump on the asphalt…a sure sign of a steel-belted demise. Getting closer I see it’s a squirrel. I mutter my condolences, and give it one last glance before passing it by.

The squirrel appears to smile at me in return.

I viewed the coffee display from top to bottom, wondering which coffee bag to buy. Should I get a light roast? Dark roast? A blend, perhaps? Whole beans or grounds? After some moments of indecision, I settled upon the Papua New Guinea Sigri Estate bag, which claims to be “rich & smooth.” The “roast meter” at the bottom of the colorful front sticker showed a little leaning to the light roast side. No problem. I just needed something to keep me up while working.

I handed the bag to the cashier, deciding not to have the bag ground for me. I usually do have it done, but I figured I might as well put some use to the premium grinding machine I had at home (muchas grácias a Yeni). Besides, they say the best cups of coffee are the ones made immediately after grinding. So after handing my credit card to the cashier, he remarked, “You get a free cup of coffee with your order. Would you like one?”

I perked immediately, and I felt my face flush with the thought of a fresh cup of java. Wow! The veins in my arms pulsed in anticipation of a good caffeine fix. “Yeah! Thanks!” I nodded with a smile. It sounded so good, and it was free. How exciting.

Maybe I need to get out more.

My usual trips to the post office in the evening hours are pretty uneventful. The typical mail drop would have me pulling over to park in the green zone, walking over to the mailbox, opening the noisy blue metal chute, dropping in my letters, closing it, then checking it again to ensure that my mail had indeed been dropped off.

Last night was the same deal. Except when I did that double check, my letter was in the exact same position it was when I dropped it in. This of course warranted a self-muttered wtf?, followed by a quick shut of the chute. A second glance found the letter still there, unmoved. This time I grabbed the letter and noticed that it stuck a little to the metal tray. Turned out that someone had affixed tiny pieces of scotch tape (sticky side up) at the very end of the chute, as an easy steal for letters dropped in. Oh you motherfucker, I chuckled to myself as I stripped the chute of the annoyances. Can you imagine?

KXLU 88.9 FM is, by far, my favorite radio station. And I can’t even begin to mention how many bands and different genres of music I’ve discovered on their radio shows. If I had the chance, I would want to DJ for KXLU. Simply because I love it.

I will say though that I discovered Kimya Dawson on KXLU long, long ago (a couple years). She became an instant favorite and I added her to my Excel wish list of CDs, which keeps growing and growing. I still haven’t purchased a CD of hers, but I will when I get to it. I discovered her on McAllister’s Hostile Makeover show, and she played Kimya Dawson again this morning, mentioning that Dawson had become overexposed due to the overwhelming popularity of the indie feature flick Juno.

I couldn’t agree more. I say to myself, “Man, I was down with Dawson before Juno even got pregnant.” Is that so wrong? I can’t help it. I treasure the treasures that I discover, then can’t stand it when others discover the same riches and they become commonplace. Like the whole retro tiki/lounge/martini thing. I was into that before it got hip in the mid-’90s, then all of a sudden it’s like, people sneer at me when I order a gin martini at the bar. Whatever.

Rather than go on for seemingly endless expanses of time without writing, I’ve decided to drop a dime a day, no matter what. It could be extremely enlightening material, profound prophecies, or, like usual, just plain nonsense. Of course, keep in mind that Lefty Limbo will, now and then, be peppered with the robust morsels of brain meeting ink meeting paper, namely the 99 Doodles project. Who knows what else I’ll come up with.

Anyways, today’s delightful discovery lies in the consumption of a #3 combo at Carl’s Jr. For those of you not in the cow-killing know, it is a Western Bacon Cheeseburger with calorie-laden (Go Medium!) fries and a healthier choice of a Diet Coke (wow). Hey, I try to hug trees and broccoli as much as possible, but sometimes, given the restraint of work and deadlines, a cow must die. Trust me, I still apologize unspoken to whatever animal I’m about to consume, whenever I eat meat. No thanks to Mr. Robbins and his Food Revolution, still the most eye-opening book I’ve ever read (I don’t read many).

See? That wasn’t so bad. Thank you for reading.

Ok, so I’ve been slacking on the doodles. As soon as I get settled I’ll start spitting ‘em out again.

Anyways, in the meantime, I saw Basic Instinct for the first time last night. Yes, I know, as soon as you bring your jaw back to its original position I will continue. Okay. Well, I can definitely see what all the clamor used to be about…there’s more than enough Sharon Stoneage to go around in this movie. But the one thing that struck me bigtime was how film noir-ish it was. I mean, totally film noir, even down to the foreboding score. Even the Beth Garner character (played by Jeanne Tripplehorn looked all ’40s. Weird.

So, it was fun while it lasted. Ending was kinda cheezy though, but once again, total noir-style.