there I was,trying to read the RG,( which is the lately gone by soon to be so late, not great,10th rate, Eugene register guard newspaper) when I noticed that online, it said it was going to START CHARGING MONEY FOR ONLINE NEWSPAPER. Wow!
They were going to charge me, for the luxury of THEM telling me, what I should hear, and what I should think, when what I really think is, THANK GOD! – I won’t have to read this stupid paper anymore, because I will stop paying for it. Hallelujah.
.that is the irony of the news media online, deciding to charge you money for reading their newspaper online. All of us are going to be so much happier now, dancing in the streets, and without any worries or cares,because we can just choose not to pay for the news anymore, and we won’t have to listen to it.
Like I said above, hallelujah. You don’t have to be religious to enjoy this one.
for example,I won’t have to read the article it says “public transit system offers freedom”, and then it says that the huge monster bus route downtown, called the EMX, that is going to cost us millions to maintain, while we cut all the regular bus routes for a few gloriously luxuriant commuters, probably students from the University of Oregon mostly, who just fly back and forth from Springfield to downtown Eugene, or use the EMX as a shuttlebus, is “our ridership productivity ranks LTD in the top 5% of all systems nationwide.”
However, Doris Towery did not say WHAT SYSTEM she was talking about. Probably one of the rings of hell in the lower system. She has a very good relationship with Satan.
Because, in the rumor mill of all the scuttlebutt in Eugene Oregon, everybody knew that Doris Towery was sleeping with Mayor Kitty, and it was very hush-hush. Not because they were, oh, I don’t know, maybe, LESBIANS, so much as it was that they were, that is Doris was, “sleeping her way upstairs” as we used to say. But in those days, it was slightly different. But not much.
None of this was my affaire, (not that I wanted to HAVE their affaire, bloody hell,) but here I was trying to catch a bus in Eugene Oregon, and the little booklet and brochure told me this bus was supposed to be here, at this time, and in this region of the county. And I waited for two hours for it.
Then a sympathetic passerby in a car said “Lady, it’s not going to do you any good to try and catch a bus in this County. They just don’t RUN. And when they do run, YOU better RUN, they have a good reputation for running over people.””is that why all these people are taking bicycles everywhere?” I asked.
Yes, he said and also they had a regular weekly gamble, on which bus driver, could hit the most bicycles, per week and win.what did the winner get? Just some free drink tickets to one of the best, rather, sleaziest bars downtown to tie one on, and forget what town you’re in.
from the way he talked about it, it sounded like a very popular pastime.
from all the huge amount of traffic congestion, and the amount of cars squished into the smallest amount of space, everywhere, and looks like it wouldn’t be hard to hit a couple of bicycles in one hit.and here I was trying to take a nonexistent bus, which, bus lines had been cut to save the money for the very downtown local, very limited area EMX.
for a town that advertised itself as “eco-friendly”, it had an amazing amount of smog and smog creators. I had never seen so many cars outside of downtown Los Angeles, on some of the worst loop to loop freeways. And the AIR was about the same.
My feet were bad, as usual, and I had to hike a couple blocks, just to figure out if there WERE bus lines anymore, even around downtown. It looks like everybody relied on TAXIS; taxis and bicycles. Gee, what did they think they were, Switzerland? Or Paris?the next thing you know, everybody in Eugene will be wearing their hair very dirty. Very Parisian.
Finally I got, on my weary feet, to a main drag Highway, and tried to motion with my hand and arm, trying to stop one of the taxis I saw go by. There went “Jerry’s taxi”; and there goes “Margaret’s taxi,” and finally going by me very fast, “George Peppard taxi”. I waited in vain for a very dark looking cab, to go streaking by, ignoring me, and it was labeled “Belafonte’s taxi”. On the next corner, I could see it picking up a very tired and heavy black woman.
HEY, that’s reverse discrimination! That’s REVERSE/TAXI/DISCRIMINATION! You guys are trying to imitate New York City.– only in reverse.
But still, the endless teaming, hysterical, rolling and lumbering, noisily, and smogily masses of cars trucks and vehicles poured on by me, relentless, insignificant, tired, talking on cell phones, putting on makeup, reading books, doing their nails, but not, PICKING ME UP.
all right, if I was going to get home before late midnight, somehow at least I would get even with all these rolling, bouldering, torrentialy hideously tolling on by –traffic, making New York City traffic and Los Angeles traffic, and even Buenos Aires traffic, look insignificant in comparison. So I decided to get even with all of them, because it wasn’t, doing its Oregon thing right.
(“ORY-GUN!” pronounce it RIGHT, MAN!)
I put my purse and my belongings down on the sidewalk where I was standing. I gathered my wits about me, don’t say, “you don’t have any to gather”, started to focus on the clouds above, and tried to remember my old Indian chief, and the lessons he gave me on how to summon rain and storms, miles and miles of muck and mire, and basically RAIN. RAIN. RAIN!
Because in Oregon it used to RAIN 10 MONTHS out of the YEAR. We were in a drought, for the 10th year, and it was time to end it even if I had to bring down the non-Anglo-Saxon gods, that were here long before white men came over, cut everything down, and killed everybody.
There I stood, focused and somber, remembering the noble red man, and the fact that he lost all his wars, but he did know how to do one thing; make it rain. And I had been taught the very best of the best, Indian rain dances.
So I started to dance, fortunately, nobody was watching me; I still get self-conscious.and sure enough, heavy dark clouds were gathering above, fortuitously shaking loose streaks of lightning and thunder, and me, here with open arms, welcoming the bountiful resource of the gods.
Okay it was water.
and boy did it start to rain; I was stuck way down 16th St. by the Old Navy stockyard, but kind of downtown, but trying to avoid the masses of highways, feeding onto the freeway.
And it didn’t start raining a little bit at first; it just went – SPLASH!SPLLLLOSH!! WHAMMM!! GAA-FOOOSH!SPLOOOSH!SPLAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOOHH!
I couldn’t begin to describe the sound of massive amount of rancid, frozen matter, translucent and icey descending from the heavens. You didn’t have to believe in God; just water. But why did it look that way and act that way? There it was, huge piles of grainy gook, falling down, hitting everything and SPLLLOOOSHING!!— but it was brown, hazy grainy, mucky,slimey frozen goog-it-eee-gook!
since when did rain fall down that way?what the heck was it?
I tried to get into a doorway, to avoid the tremulous downpour, but suddenly realizing what it was. It was China’s BROWN AIR, on the Gulfstream winds, that carried it far across the oceans, up up above, and then putting it into the air system of this continent. We were getting rain from BROWN AIR.
Everybody was shrieking and yelling, those who were out in it, and it hit the cars and the traffic onslaught, causing a lot of them to veer off, and crash into each other;people around here were bad drivers anyhow, and all the outsiders outside of Oregon, who came here had no idea how to drive in regular rain. And this was even WORSE, it was slimy and GUIY, sickening and filthy full of bacteria and who God knows what else! I even spotted a pile of receipts, with Chinese writing on them, spilling down in a spray and hitting the sidewalk.
Well, they sure were giving us the business!
I finally was able to get one of the taxis that had to get off the highway, and parked, to avoid the wobbling and slippery sliding automobiles,who all hit each other and crashed.it was really a horrible mess, along with all the blood, broken glass, screams and moans, fire alarms, and trains blowing their horns. It was one of those BROWN catastrophes. I just wanted out of it.
I was sure lucky with that taxi, he took me all the way home, even though it cost me a fortune. On the way, he commented “what the FUCK is this world coming to? We have garbage water and garbage rain? Is this stupid global warming inventing new ways to terrorize us?!”
I sure had to keep my mouth shut, in the future, about my ability to make it rain; even when the thing that came down was China’s BROWN AIR.I said, trying to ignore the brown mold on the windshield, and on the sides of the car windows, squishing down, “oh, maybe were just having non-boring weather for once.” he replied “if this is not boring,I’ll settle for BORING!”and then added as an afterthought – “why can’t we just continue our regular ten-year drought, and ignore all the stupid rain for once? This state gets too soaked all the time anyway!you know what they were? They were MONSOONS!”
I could see that we were going to get into an argument before I got home; a lot of the taxidrivers were independent, radical, insufferable, and usually left-wing to the point of shrieking aloud “death to all Republicans! DEATH!” It was best not to talk to taxi drivers here, they all had some kind of gripe, and if you didn’t stay out of it, the gripe extended to you.
Suddenly, in a paranoid manner, YOU became the monster capitalist pigs of the filthy capitalist regime.in triplicate! Suddenly, even though you didn’t vote Republican or anything else, YOU became the scurge of the nation!
“nice weather were having,” I smiled sweetly, not even trying to be ironic. And added suddenly, “I never had ANYTHING to do with it!”
we were just coming home, to my relief, when he said point blank, “WHY would you have anything to do with the weather?” And fixed a nasty look in his eye. I tried to look innocent; “I just wished for a little rain, that was all, just a little teeny bit. Not much.” And I paid the fare really quickly, included a tip, and got the hell out of a taxi and into my house. The brown gookie rain and cascading hailstorms were still flooding the streets, everyone’s home, and everybody’s yard and pounding on the roofs.
I got out of my ground-up, dirty slimy frostbitten and bacteria laden Oriental Chinese Brown rain-saturated clothing, and decided to dump them on the garbage. There was no way I was going to get that stink out! they smelled of sweaty, tortured, slave run factories, full of trashy high-fashion clothing and purses, headed for the idiots who bought them, made by the poor little creeps who were finagled into making them.
So much for Chinese business success. I wouldn’t want it myself.well, all of the nation didn’t have it any longer;we didn’t have any choice.I turned on the news, to see if anything about our torrential, discombobulated -hell-of-hail had swept the whole city away yet.
I wondered suddenly, would there be any complications with our REGULAR SMOG in our air?would we now get “super – discombobulated – muck and mire for air”? Would we all be breathing MUD anytime soon? I didn’t think I could handle that I already had allergies.even as a kid, playing with mud pies, I still didn;t want to BREATHE IT; I just wanted to EAT it LIKE ANY NORMAL KID.
( TO BE CONTINUED)