This will be the last post in the section for the foreseeable future because I've finished with the whole travel gambit for a while. Time to find a job! The (US) ElectionIt just makes me angry and I know how this rant sounds so I'm going to leave it out. Two Funky Guys I MetThe night before the primary I was out knocking on doors. I was about five minutes away from finishing and a came across two guys on the street having a couple of beers outside their house. The address was on my list so I asked for Grant and Andre. They were Grant and Andre. Andre seemed a bit of a stoner. He thought he was told he couldn't vote but I assured him he could because he was No Party Preference. They said they would go down in the morning and be sure to vote. Who knows if they did. Anyway, Grant had bought an old ambulance for $8k which was pretty cool, and he seemed switched on and fairly interesting so when he offered me a beer I accepted. It was dark and I was nearly done, so why not really. We sat in the van and talked politics for a few minutes, then Grant alluded to a topic of conversation he had ready, almost like a presentation of sorts. Andre and I finished whatever we were talking about then Grant came at me with zero point energy generators and the Disclosure Project. It was full conspiracy theorist mode. Every time I asked him to explain some part of it that didn't make sense to me he just said some more vague and complex sounding stuff which made no sense and reiterated that he's not a physicist, but it's all real. He was totally normal apart from that. Lucid Dreaming and BuddhismI was walking to the park to have a read and there was a guy sitting on a step having a read. We made eye contact and exchanged hi's and as I passed I inquired as to the content of his book. It was about Chernobyl. Interesting I said. Turns out he was waiting for someone to pick him up then they would go for a walk in the park. Se we chatted for about an hour. I got some book recommendations. I also got some advice about lucid dreaming. I'm not in a writing mood though and I can't remember why I thought this would be interesting enough to make it a heading. The SaloonI didn't go out in San Fran much at all, but there was one time I went to a dive bar called the saloon and had some whisky. I'd just finished watching Peaky Blinders in which the characters drink whisky all the time. It was delightful. There was a live band in this small room and everyone of all shapes and sizes was dancing. It was a very American experience. Homeless Guy Picking Up TrashOn the day of the primary, a group of people, myself included, were doing a “honk and wave” to remind people that voting was today. My bag was behind me so I was generally staying aware of the few people who walked along the path at our rear. Anyway, some fella was walking along with a trailer behind him, upon which he was stacking trash that he found in the park. At first glance I assumed he was homeless. He had a dog who wasn't fat, but was quite muscular. The man of the duo was talkative and we saw him throughout the day. Afterwards I wondered if he really was homeless or if it was just his job to pick up trash. Again, I finish this tale with little idea of why I started And NowAnyway, I left Greg and Erica with whom I was staying and couchsurfed over in Oakland for a few days before flying back to Melbourne where my parents who happened to be in Melbourne and my Aunt and Uncle picked me up and whisked me up to Wodonga. I'm now looking for a job online in Melbourne, but really the location and role are less important than the purpose of the company for whom I am working.
I may, as a method of job hunt procrastination, continue to post in the thought section of my blog, but I think this travel section is finished for a while because my day to day life will be even less exciting to the outsider now that I'm living in the same place. In exceptional circumstances, like if I see a man poo in the middle of a crowd in a busy train station like in Rome, I might mention that. I know this post is barely coherent but to be honest, my heart's not in it. San Francisco was interesting, but very similar to Australia, so not great to write about. Plus my mind is on other things like finding a job and the prospect of starting real life. One final thing to mention is that the tone of my travel blog hasn't been as overtly positive as I imagine most travel blogs are. I think the most interesting parts of travel are the troubles you get in and who wants to hear about someone else's amazing adventure anyway? Especially mine. Obligatorily, I've had an amazing time, met many amazing people and learnt a lot about the amazing world we live in.
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GodWhile canvassing I bumped into three Christian kids from New Mexico who were walking the streets asking people if there was anything they could pray for. When they asked me I asked for Bernie Sanders to win the election. I thought he was a long shot until then, but now I'm so glad that he's actually going to win! We crossed paths later and for some foolish reason I engaged them and we ended up talking for maybe half an hour. I was surprised a bit by how deluded they were, and I only tried to impart kindness and logic upon them. A lesson I think I've learnt is that while God probably isn't real and religious people are probably idiots, but that doesn't mean you can't be nice to the innocent ones among them. These kids were innocent. Plus I think I got three votes for Sanders in the New Mexico primary. Seppos are GenerousI'm not the most financially generous person. That is an understatement. Tight is an adjective. I'm tending towards being more generous with money. I'd rather give money to a charity than to someone on a street, because I think the money (depending on the charity) will affect more people in a greater way. There is an indirect consequence of in person generosity which is that people who see it and people who receive it becoming more likely to be generous from that point on. If someone buys me a coffee in Starbucks, I see them as a good person whom I wish to emulate in some way. Anyway, someone bought me a coffee at Starbucks. I know what you're thinking and no, that's not the case. The coffee was for Greg, who is currently hosting me and is a gun on the Bernie Sanders campaign trail. I would never say a bad word about him, but his taste in coffee speaks for itself. I was in the line and a man saw my Bernie stuff and posed a question. We got chatting and once he learnt of my travel/campaign situation (I didn't even say that I was running out of money) and got to the counter, he paid for my small black. This doesn't even mention the fact that I've been staying with people for two week stretches and they are into it because I'm doing God's (Sanders') work. BusinessI like the idea of starting my own business because I'm a human and that's how things work. I had never really produced a feasible idea, and I probably still haven't, but the thing I mentioned last post and on Facebook about a fruit and vegetable market with some sort of environmental impact indicator on each item has sparked a vague business plan. I'm thinking about education a lot. Poor People are FriendlyOn Sunday I canvassed in a poor part of town. There were many people just hanging out at the bus stop and living on the street, plus the houses were run down. In this neighbourhood, people were almost exclusively friendly. Everyone was answering their door, people on the street would stop and talk to me (not with the intention of mugging me, just a friendly chat), and it really reinforced what I've said before about the people with the least giving the most. I'll never be rich. I always used to think I would be, but now I know it's not what I want Pleasure from looking at Faraway ThingsWhen I'm at lookouts, I try to snap pictures as quickly as possible then start just sitting and looking at the view. While I was canvassing the unsavoury 'hood, I could see a few little views and there is something just really nice about taking in a view and trying to look at each little bit in the distance in detail. Maybe it's a hunter gatherer thing. Australian LottoI accidentally knocked on the door of Mr. D. Alexander because I thought I was on Inness Avenue, but I was actually on Jerrold. He came out and said some things about Bernie which were nice, then he when to find his nephew so he could register to vote. While I was helping the little fella with his form, Mr Alexander mentions that he's constantly getting things in the mail from the Canadian and Australian lotto people to try to wring money out of him. And wring money out of him they did until he finally won $1000 and then realised it was to be split between thirty people and he barely covered his expenses for that one ticket, let alone the non-winning tickets he bought. I don't like that Australian lotto does that. $2, Take a seat,When I stepped on to the bus this morning I had out my two $1 bills and my 25c change was ready in my pocket for the $2.25c bus ticket. After I put in my notes, I put my hand in my pocket for the coins and the driver, an old guy, tore off the ticket and said “Take a seat please, sir”, not allowing me to pay the balance. This seems like a fairly normal experience, and it is. The only reason I'm mentioning it is that the whole situation, including the voice, was like the guy was a prison guard in a prison where the prisoners were being mistreated, but not by him, they rebelled, he could have foiled their plans, but he chose to stand aside because it was the right thing to do. It's like he was taking a stand against the extra quarter for the ticket because he thought the price was too high. This sounds really boring written down, but maybe I'll come back and read it some day. I'd like that. I'm not convinced anyone else would be particularly interested. Winelda P BlumI was canvassing last night and the next person on the list was Winelda P Blum, 93, female. She apparently lived with a Monica, 20, and when I rang the doorbell, I did hope I wasn't going to make a 93 year old walk all the way down the stairs just to speak to a rabid Bernie Bro. The frequency of descending footfalls was low so I knew Winelda was on her way. She is the oldest person upon whose door I have knocked.
We spoke of Bernie for all of 30 seconds, before she mentioned my accent and began recounting her trip to Australia. She didn't go along the Murray, but crossed it a few times while venturing west to east. She told of the underground town with pretty rocks and was delighted when I reminded her of the name (Coober Pedy). She recalled Kangaroo Island and being unable to open the door of her accommodation before being told that the key was under the mat. She even remembered that she flew there from Adelaide. As a reference point, I can't remember the name of and of the cities I stopped at on the coast of Greece between the Turkish border and Thessaloniki. That was less than a year ago. Winelda went to Australia with her late husband in 1988. She's 93. When she was telling the story of the key, she was gesturing with her hands as if picturing the exact scene. |
Chris JonesJust a guy going for a bit of a documented ride. Archives
May 2018
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