One Photo. # 100, Stop Needling Me

Having survived the Latin flood I decided to try some Asian Juju.   My aching back went to visit Dr. Chew the needle pusher.  My first acupuncture experience of any note.  And yes...you feel it.  Not sure what the results are yet but glad this wasn't a bunch of paramedic students doing some practice.

One Photo # 99, Good Bye Waterworld

The story finally comes to a close on the strange encounter of diving above water.  20.6 inches of rain in 5 days.  Move over Hurricane Harvey.  Today it finally stopped raining and gave me a glimpse of what could have been.   Oh well, another time.   Some cold pizza from the kitchen and the Roatan Pizza oven.   Only sunset of the week was a doozy.   

One Photo # 97. Indoor Sports Island Style

As the rains continue to fall and the wind is now about 35 mph, I causally wave at the poor souls hanging onto any they can find onboard. Sabrina as it attempts to get through the 5-7 foot swells on it's way to the other side of Roatan.  The crew was not it's singing island self but more like a pissed off golf course cart guy waiting for the only numb nuts golfer to go out in the thunderstorm.  I wish them well and doubt that I will see them at dinner.   And so it goes in the Bay Islands.    No diving for this cowboy today.  No way.  I'm blaming it on a bit of back ache and a few years of boat barfing experience.  I have managed to find some island indoor sports to lift my damp spirits.   It's not exactly the moonlight beach limbo contest but one must endeavor to persevere.

One Photo # 98. It Always Rains Underwater

Understanding the irony of saying I'm tired of being wet when one is diving, I'm saying it.  I'm tired of being wet when I'm diving.  A quick run to Roatan for some bubble blowing has turned into motral combat with the forces of evil.  No more dry cloths and trench foot.  Throw a little chaffing in to round off the triad.   Solid rain for the better part of 3 days makes a person question his choice of season and whether that "Super Deal" was really a deal at all.  Discussing the nuances of Honduran weather forecasting with a Brit living here, he cheerfully reminded me that "it always rains underwater".   I tried to remember that as my cap was dripping quarter size drops into my scrambled eggs this morning.  It always rains underwater.   

One Photo # 96. An Owner a Slave

Nothing could be more god awful that "downsizing".  I can imagine being nibbled away by African ants or being forced to deal with Bangladeshi internet server tech support people for a week.   This is at least my 4th rendition of "downsizing".  Today, on my second trip to the free porch and my third dumpster trip, I realized that downsizing is actually a dirty nasty horrible four letter word.  Now forever known as "DNSZ.  Your pronunciation may vary.  I will save the normal rant about buying and rebuying and duplication and all that.  What I realized today was I am the slave to all this shit I can't make myself get rid of.  It's a simple question of who owns who?  I am the complete slave to the crap that I own.  The RV, the well pump, the main breaker box. they all have a piece of me.  The worst part is any one of the 5 hammers I own will jump up and hit me in the face.  The amount of Time I have invested in keeping things that I don't use or need or even want has hit me like a ton of obsolete photo gear.  It owns me.  I am in a war people.  A fight to the death with so much bizarre junk I can't even tell you.  Mutant vehicle burning man pieces, costumes, amazon death masks, slot machines, camel saddles, tools of all kinds, and camera gear.  Years ago I had everything I owned stolen from a couple of huge storage units in Austin.  I mean a 3 bedroom house with everything in huge storage units.  Everything gone accept one suit and a canoe.  And what I had in my truck.  Where are those guys now?   I mean when you need them.  Any brave soul wanting to come on down to Terlingua and participate in the twilight zone of garage sales please come on down.  Tomorrow, more of the same.  Pain, anguish, and another trip to the dump and the free porch.  Please rub the furry belly of the DNSZ god for me tonight.

One Photo # 96. Leaving to a New Beginning

It's strange really.  I haven't posted anything since mid May of this year.  I have occasionally taken a look at Facebook but not much.  Most of that was the influx of millions of our Asian and American tourist brothers and sisters into Yellowstone  who have stolen the bandwidth, but some of it was just feeling like sitting back and looking.  Now looking meant sitting with a Chardonnay mostly at some strong internet stop at some place like Bozeman, Montana or maybe Cody, Wyoming.  Having been connected full time for a couple of years, it was a big shock to be off the net.    I never realized how much I had come to depend on the internet and the ways it falsely connects you with the world.  I always was very proud of saying, "I have not owned a TV in 25 years".  Like I was professing my deep seated understanding of life and what was really important.  Right?  I just transferred that decreasing attention span to another media that is perhaps worse.  I could go on and on.  All that to say I'm back.  By Miles will be engaging in some very odd and edgy things going forward with some major changes thrown in.  So, come along for the ride.