I just wanted to say thanks for all the thoughtful and encouraging comments on the post below. I think just getting a lot of that out was healthy. There's something theraputic about publishing your angst publicly; makes it somehow easier to manage.

In any event, I'm sure I'll come around.

I wish I had something interesting to write. I'm still resting and taking penicilin. My throat and fever seem much better, but my lymph nodes are still slightly swollen and my gums are inflamed, especially back around my wisdom teech (ouch!). So I still feel kinda crappy and the pain from the gums puts me in an awful bad mood.

I talked with Luke and Mark briefly last night and it looks like I'll be heading up to get ready to go on the road in a week. Assuming I continue to recover my health, I'm looking very much forward to this.

Other than that I've been bored. I've been doing some work and will be doing a lot more over the next week, but mostly I'm just kind of frustrated and filled with ennui. I'm tired of looking at political web sites; it's no longer entertaining or really all that engaging. I think about vacation and that's tiring too. I don't want leasure, I want a new passion. I'm sure I could use some rest, but frankly I can't stand to lay about any more. Action! Adventure! Excitement!

Oh well. Maybe I'll walk to the bank.

Tuesday I took the bus to the San Francisco Free Clinic in the Haight. I tried some clinincs closer to home, but they don't like taking new patients if they can help it. It took a while, but I got some penicillin and it only cost me $3. Swelling in throat has gone down some, but I've still got a ways to go. Today I'm cleaning all my clothes, trying to un-sick my attitude.

Three dollars though. That's affordible health-care. I'll make a donation when I get back on the gravy train.

It's effin' frustrating right now. The road trip is in flux because the truck continues to be a source of mechanical woe, putting serious strain on our finances. I've got money to make here in the Bay but I'm too sick to work and probably won't be any better for a couple days -- assuming I get antibiotics tomorrow and they kick in within 24 hours -- and in the mean time I'm sort of cluttering up my old roommates place. They're accomodating and all, but I know it's a drag to have some toxic dude convalescing in your living room.

Oh me oh my; being stuck in bed (ok, couch) for the weekend has given me pause and time to reflect though. I'm far from certain what will come next, but having space to ruminate is never a bad thing. I feel the need to reach back to old friends and family more, remembering good old times. I feel that I owe 100s of thank yous to people. I feel like it may be time to start something new.

Well tomorrow I'll seek antibiotics. This shit has gone on long enough, and it's probably strep throat so we'll need special pills to defeat it. Another adventure into the medical establishment for the uninsured!

I think it's the flu, but whatever it is I'm out of commission. I detest my weakness, even as I realize that the only thing to do is lie down and drink water for a day or three. I've been downloading and watching old Family Guy episodes to pass the time, and Nascera and her friend Amy(?) made me a healing elixer of ginger-licorice tea infused with a ton of garlic, hot pepper, lemon and honey. We'll see how it fairs tomorrow.

From, Jesus' General, who I turn to in times of trouble:

Brilliant.

Revenge of the Sith is the best of the new-school, but still falls short of the glory. The pacing still seems off -- or maybe I'm too old to keep up? -- and the over-use of massive/complex digital effects seems more distracting than useful for the most part. Like Episode II, it felt a bit like a video game. Also, the political aspects that everyone seems to be playing up were pretty hamfisted, I have to say. There's just not enough depth in the film to really make you believe that anyone really believes all that much in anything, and you end up just waiting for the next duel.

That said, it was good entertainment. Also, I have Anakin hair. Or Anakin has Josh hair. I just need to perfect my smoldering gaze, score a big hooded robe, maybe get back into the gym for four months or so and find a way to put a cleft into my chin, and I've got a halloween costume all set. To the extent that looking like a pop culture icon helps build relationships quickly, this could be my ace on the road this summer. We'll see.

Stick this in your pipe and smoke it:

The virtue of open source methodology lies in the fact that it is fiercely entrepreneurial, but rewards utility over profitability. I think some promulgation on this formula is key for people on the left to seize the great American mantle of being in favor of hard work.

Elsewhere, hanging with some local labor heads, I heard (and found a link this morning) that a US Senator (Brownback of Kansas) likes to wash his staff's feet as a gesture of faith. Just imagine the uproar if Ted Kennedy did anything this odd. Also heard from a SEIU organizer about how a corporate hospital demanded $600 back pay from a husband before they would treat his wife for the miscarriage she was having. Oh lordy lordy.

I got an email today from good old Chris Cromwell, who's running the The Town Motel and Moseley Cottage Inn this summer up in Bar Port, Maine; big old houses that rent out to fair-weather visitors. His special lady's family has been running it for 35 years. Seems pretty cool.

He's also blogging, and Crom is a really great writer. Here's an excerpt:

Tonight you won't be able to sleep until after midnight. Usually you're in bed by ten and asleep by ten thirty and that's really pushing it. Tonight you'll sit on the floor with your old dog, running your hand through his fur and remembering what he was like as a puppy, on the loose, or even just five years ago when his sight first started going. He can't curl up in the hollow of your body any more so you curl your hollow around him. He stretches. You have to walk behind him now when he goes up stairs; you have to help him with his hind legs. And the roof is wet in one room and the heaters out in another. There's no shortage of things to worry about, but you and your dog both have something to teach each other. His lesson for you is terrible, just feels horrible. You remember that last night in your dream your dog was with you and ran with you, ran without hesitation like only animals and children can, while someone chased you with a wood pole. You don't know what your lesson for him is; you feel he may be beyond lessons. In your mind you envision yourself, tall and friendly, with treats and friends and you try to beam this image to him, your friend, your old dog.

I have to give the man credit for affecting my writing and performance style with the work I observed him doing at ETW. All this scans good with your eyes, but it pales in comparison to having Crom put on some choice music, gather up a few ideosyncratic props, and read it to you like a fable.

I don't know if Vagabender is going to make it that far north in New England, but if so we'll definitely be dropping in.