shantyboatliving.com

Clearly my interests have taken a new direction. Actually, I rarely have a new interest, as I have had so many in the last that I might call it interest recycling. For example, I was a student pilot about 27 years ago, making it to about 45 hours of flight time before my flight logs and all were stolen from my car.

If you are a reader of this blog, know that you can concentrate your reading on any category that interests you. Simply look for the category list to the right and click on the word that matches your interest.

Listen to this as you read.

The rain has been falling all day, though it’s the mists clinging to the cliff that seems more a factor in setting the mood for the day. It’s not oppressive, on the contrary, there’s a certain enveloping beauty to it, something just as lovely, though in a different way than those sunny times a few days back.

I missed sitting outside writing, and really wasn’t able to get anthing going until I took my Alphasmart, my Kindle, and some sparkling water out to the car with me and drove down to the beach.

There’s an emergency vehicle out on the beach and two jet ski type boats in the water. Their behavior looks more like training than rescue, as they seem to be darting about with no purpose other than to bounce about in the surf. They are loading up now, backing some small vehicle into the surf.

Even in this light rain there are kids playing in the sand on the beach, not many, but there are some, and families walking as well. Most are bundled up, but more than one family looks to be dressed in such a way as to make it clear they were expecting nicer weather. There is a girl wearing capris, and since I can see her shivering from 300 years away, her look must be more important than her comfort. I would scoff, but my choices in cars is much the same, or was, as I often preferred cars such as a King Midget or a three wheeled Reliant Robin, over anything more contemporary and comfortable. That I am sitting here in a non-descript Chevy Malibu Maxx is as sure a sign of getting older as the pain in my knees.

At this point there are three reasons why I write. First off, a handful of people have expressed interest in wanting to learn more about my boat projects as they progress, rather slowly at this point, I must add. But honestly, the feedback is often rather sparse, to put it mildly, rare enough to make that reason rather suspect. What drives me to write is more the sense that writing opens me up, acting as something of a conduit to thoughts that seem to burst out as though they were under pressure, I’d say like a fine champagne once opened, but not only does that sound full of conceit, it just isn’t the feeling I get. It’s more than by the mere expressin of these thoughts I am given the chance to finally work them through, to finally get some sense of understanding of all that’s come before.

A side thought. As I write this I am listening to Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis, by Vaughan Williams. It seems a perfect fit for a rainy day on the Oregon coast.

Smeday I’d like to organize these thoughts, to share them with my children.

I wish I’d brought the camera with me on this car outing, as it would be fun to take some video and set it to this beautiful music. The weather is supposed to improve tomorrow, and then get better each day until I leave, on Wednesday. I wonder what music will fit at this time tomorrow?

These cramped quarters are starting to hurt my knees again. Sadly, I’d better go back home where I can stretch out my legs a bit, which certainly seems to help.

More later.

Its 7pm back on the cliff above the ocean in Manzanita. When I left the Arlington airport this morning it was almost uncomfortably hot, but here on the coast the clouds have rolled in, a light mist is falling, and it’s cold enough that even I debate staying out here on the deck.

There are surfers in the waves on the ocean below, though compared to when I was here Friday the waves are mere ripples. I know the kite boarders must be frustrated, as there is no wind to speak of. All of this makes no difference to the birds around me, as their songs, calls, and scoldings surround me.

Scratch that comment about the waves being ripples, they just seem much more variable now.

Next morning

I just wasn’t in the mood last night, tired from my 5am wake up call! Today I woke up to thunderstorms, so there will be no writing on the beach today. In addition, I have horrible knee pain. I don’t know if it’s caused by gout, or by some other sort of arthritic pain. It’s severe enough that it’s a bit hard to concentrate. Ugh.

Steller Jay

A beautiful afternoon on the cliffs above Manzanita, Oregon. I’m sitting on the second floor deck of this three story house which is built right into a steep slope, perhaps 60 degrees steep, nestled in amongst the trees, ferns, and undergrowth. It’s clearly a haven for birds, as I’ve seen at least a dozen species from the deck alone, ranging from hummingbirds, to crows, to the magnificent blue and black Stellar Jay. There are few sounds of people up here, just a rare faint shout of a child playing on the beach a few hundred feet below. Mostly it’s the birds, especially the jays, a bird whose call is as harsh as their feathers are beautiful. They seem to have a full range of sound, but their favorite seems to be a rat-a-tat-tat sound, which to human ears seems to be their sound of supreme irritation. Then there is a bird with a high pitched sighing sound, a simple sound that is almost painfully loud from maybe 40 feet away. It starts unbelievably high and on the western scale falls about four notes in two seconds. Underneath it all there is the rustling of leaves in the wind and the constant crash of waves against the shore below.

Cetta is staring at me from her bed at my feet, something she only does when hungry. Apparently the pangs are mild, as she hasn’t gotten up to scratch my leg yet.

I’ve been wanting to write about my daughter for quite some time, as she has been virtually absent from the pages. I know there will come a time when she will find these pages, and she will certainly notice how out of balance the family comments are, most of them clearly dealing with my son.

On the surface, the reason is obvious, as Alex has had 11 operations, she has had none, academics seem a relative breeze for her, while he required so much assistance in school that supporting him seemed a full time job.

But life isn’t lived at the surface, and while she knows the challenges Alex has faced, there were challenges for her as well.

I want to conclude before I even get started by saying she is also much more private than Alex. With that in mind I have left her off these public pages, respected her desire to share her thoughts as she sees fit in other places. I hope she knows that she is always in my thoughts and will always have my love. Her hopes and her fears, her challenges and her triumphs are as important to me as Alex’s, my love and respect for her as strong as any I have ever felt. I know there are times that her needs have placed second to those of Alex, to say otherwise would be a lie, even then, she was in our thoughts.

So much more to say.. but I’ll try to tell her in person instead.

My friend Dan of the Virtual Joli project sent me a note the other day with a simple question… why do we want to build boats? He already has two canoes and a sailboat. I already have… oh man, I don’t even want to go there.

One of my high school teachers, Bob Freund, showed us a video called WHY DOES MAN CREATE? At the time the movie, shown on an old projector as this was prior to the world of VHS, seemed rather fun, perhaps silly, yet I have thought of the movie often. As I sit here 35 plus years later I think the answer to that question becomes obvious if we phrase it in a new way.. what if we didn’t create? Our drive to create is what moves us forward, really to such a degree that one could argue it has shaped our lives as much as our sex drive.

So why do we build boats? For most of us, our day-to-day lives are mundane, devoid of creativity, devoid of opportunities for that other great force that seems joined at the hip of creativity, the desire to learn. What we find missing, we create for ourselves… a chance to learn, to create, really to explore and grow. Be it through the divine will of God, or natural selection, it’s clear we have within us a force that wants to push and forge onward in a new direction. Like the sucking reflex of a baby, it’s hard wired into us, keeping us alive… alive in so many ways.

Another thought has been fighting for recognition deep within me, built upon my earlier post talking of rejuvenation at the beach. Why? Why do we find ourselves renewed and recharged at the beach? Just now I was cutting up some cheese to put on my dogs dish, as I do each night, I spoil her, don’t you know. But this time there was no hurry, nothing I had just rushed from or to… for once. It was a different experience, as silly as that sounds, and it struck me that this was the transformative power of vacation… time. Time to think… time with family… time to notice. It’s a time to set aside the must do elements of our lives and to turn instead to those things we want to do.

I started reading a book on the Kindle last night called Solitude, Seeking Wisdom in Extremes. Inside all of us I am certain there is at least some tendency toward succumbing to the siren call of solitude, though perhaps in the romantic sense of the word, as few of us ever really are alone. Karen and Jessa just drove off with Callie, Jessa’s friend from school. They left with Cetta, but in spite of the bath I gave her the other day she smelled so badly that they came back with her, knowing that my sense of smell runs at about 50 percent efficiency. So I am alone, alone with Cetta, alone for the last hour typing on my Alphasmart in the shade of Peter’s deck far above the ocean.

There were times in my life that I found the solitude insufferable, a time when I felt so alone I drove for an hour searching for a pay phone so that I could call and connect with someone. But that was a time in my life when I was psychically alone, my heart longing to connect, to trust, to love, and it just wasn’t happening. Indeed, that was a time in my life when I had never dated longer than a few months, never known the deep connection that true love can bring. My discomfort of solitude, encountered on a week long vacation at a mountain top cabin, had its roots deep within, it’s tendrils in a cancerous intertwining of all that I was.

A quick detour in thinking here. While shopping in Cannon Beach yesterday, actually while reading the Kindle on the sidewalk while Karen and Jessa shopped, a fragment for an opening line for a book popped into my head, and with it an idea for a book. “On the day my father died I learned my Mother had killed her sister, and with that came an understanding of generations of pain, pain sure to continue into future generations as well. It was suddenly so clear, clear at least that this moment had meaning, the full extent of which would not become clear for at least 30 years.” But the rest of the book will have to wait, as the 30 years hasn’t passed yet.

But back to solitude, and this moment in the broken sunlight above the sea, solitude now two hours old. I have a video camera trained on the sea, an effort to capture this moment in time for some future sleepless night. It’s a clip I’ll upload to YouTube, an action that seems totally at odds with the moment, and with the quest. Another honest indication of my troubled sense of solitude, as long as I am being honest with myself, is that my computer’s web cam is trained on the ocean as well in the off chance that a friend would connect to my Yahoo Chat. I wouldn’t converse, and indeed wouldn’t know they were there, but I did feel some sense of wanting to share the moment, certainly a feeling that battles with solitude.

That sense of wanting to share the experience does seem to be solitudes first casualty for me, the first thought creeping into my mind once I am alone. It’s not that I seek company, rather the experience seems lessened by my inability to share it. If solitude happens in the forest, and nobody but me is there to hear it, has it really happened? I know the answer, but this drive, this sense of sharing, is the first evidence of monkey mind in the journey alone.

Cetta, the dog, the beautiful whippet in our lives, is asleep in her bed across the deck from me. I haven’t a clue as to the thoughts that cross her mind on this day. Her life is centered on solitude, and if she has even the slightest awareness of what that means, it’s a state of mind where I hope she finds at least some comfort. I hope she isn’t aware of the changes I see in her of late, indications that her time with us is short. Her enlarged heart can be seen beating against her rib cage, the heart medicines only able to hold off the inevitable, and bringing with them side effects that include a profound loss in hearing. There are no walks on the beach for this old girl any more, as a simple walk around the block has been out of reach for months now. For a dog, for this dog, walks were one of her reasons for being. This is the downside of time.

It’s clouding over now, almost too cool to be outside typing, even for this warm, I should say hot blooded writer. For me heat kills, and cool is just right, virtually the opposite condition my wife,for that matter most women experience. More later. Lunch now.

Written on my alphasmart down at the beach…

My first true day of vacation, a slow start, as is fitting for vacation, though it was interrupted by a call from work. Nothing too important, though.

The day is partially cloudy, with the forecast calling for a 30 percent chance of rain today, 20% tomorrow, with temperatures in the mid 60s. Sitting on the beach, should I ever do it, could be on the cool side of things.

Later

On the beach, which in spite of the forecasts, is actually quite sunny, warm, and wind-free. We brought down two green plastic garden chairs, setting ourselves down near a little river in the sand, clusters of families spread out across the beach… couples walking, most our age or older.

My mind is rarely at ease, even on the best of days, the clarity of Buddha mind mostly far beyond my reach, my mind unsettled. I wish it weren’t so, but total happiness always seems around the next corner, my mood most often labeled as a seven out of ten. Total depression is rare.

At the beach my mind drifts back to the past, mostly the distant memories of my youth on the Oregon coast. I see ghosts of my past in the families, in the dogs, in the children playing in the sand. I look for clues in the slow walk of the fathers and mothers walking by, mostly the fathers, and in them I see hints of the feelings my father must of had as he searched the beach for agates while I played in the sand, oblivious to any thoughts of my father having any feelings at all. He’d spend countless hours looking, at the time I thought for clear rocks, but now I think he was looking for a little peace, and perhaps some sort of explanation as to how his life had gone the way it had, and how he could nudge it in a new direction.

But life gets away from you. Those agates he collected and carted home in our run-down 1960 Plymouth Valiant? He saved them through the years in a cardboard box in the garage, clearly with some sort of plan for their use, perhaps in a mosaic in the cement of some garden walkway. They were there in that box when he died at age 62, tucked away in the corner of a garage he’d built, next to the house he’d built, his biggest source of pride, other than his family.

Within a few years of his death it was all gone, the house, the garage, the box of agates, all destroyed by the destructive forces of time and progress. Actually, virtually every tree, every twig, is gone now, his home and his property clear-cut by a rich pilot building his mega-mansion, leaving no stone unturned, no shred of the lives of those who came before, no knowledge, memories, or thought of the two generations who lived and died before. My father once found what he claimed was an arrowhead from island residents a hundred years or more before us. So many have come before us, gone now with hardly a trace. Even the prized arrowhead is missing. The name of the family before ours died with my parents, just as ours will die to the family there now, if it hasn’t already.

So this all began with agates, memories of time at the beach so long ago, summers at Oceanside, Oregon, time at a small cabin called The Gitchy Goomie. Memories that run both warm and chillingly cold.

Karen’s memory of the beach? It’s of our time here with our family, including time with Alex after his surguries, memories of him running to the ocean with the antiseptic goo in his hair, oozing from the incision and stitches running across his head from ear to ear. Her memory is one of renewal, of a young boy and his frightened parents coming alive again on a carefree, sunny day at the beach, dreams of the future replacing nightmares of the past.

The beach is certainly a place of renewal.

I glance up at the clusters of families about us. Grab those memories, change will come, time will pass.

More later.

Bryan

A nice evening.

A week ago or so I was asked it I was willing to drive a friends 1942 American LaFrance fire engine in a parade on July 4th. Willing? I mean, how many people get to do that!? As I shared earlier, I used to own a 1940 Mack fire engine, an engine once owned by the Monroe Fire Department, just to the east of me, 45 minutes away or so. SO fun, but maintaining these things is quite a commitment, and being honest, my attention span is short, so I sold it. I just now stumbled across a site about my old truck!
Click here! The picture below is a shot I took at a park that is about two miles from my house. The ladder racks were off it, as I needed to remove them in order for it to fit into my garage. There are days I miss that old truck!

I bring this up because I went for a driving refresher course in Bill’s old truck. Man, what a thrill.

As you can see, Bill’s truck is bigger than mine was. Quite a thrill to drive around Alki Point in that old thing! I look forward to driving it in the parade on July 4th, weather permitting!

Sunday, Father’s Day 2009.

A quick movie of my boat. Lot’s of work done on it today. A floor and one wall is actually lookng like a wall!

mini-shanty video

Another weekend with pretty good balance between should do and want to do. That’s one of the goals of life, isn’t it? It’s certainly one of my goals for every day.

I am out on my small front lawn again, typing into my Alphasmart. The grass out here has less surface space than the bed of a pickup truck, really just enough room for a couple of Adirondack style chairs, but it’s nestled into a small garden that’s filled with at least 40 different kinds of plants, ranging from strawberries to rhodies to a maple tree. No lawn mowing sounds filling the air in the neighborhood this evening, just the sounds of Alex working on his sneakbox boat and neighborhood kids running about. Nice sounds, happy sounds.

Above me I just noticed that the berries on our two story tall Oregon Grape are starting to make the transition from a dull flat green to a brilliant blue. I might make Oregon Grape pancake syrup again, a treat I’ve only made the time to enjoy once before. That’s the sort of thing that fills my “bucket list”, something sitting on the cusp of ordinary, but perhaps not quite. My lifestyle is amazingly far from self sufficient, but it’s something that holds a certain romantic appeal to me. By that I mean the notion of self-sufficiency is far more attractive to me than the reality of the day to day work and somewhat restricted faire should I ever have the discipline to truly pursue it. Besides, there are forces conspiring against me. Karen would rather have the color of the berries in the garden than on her flapjacks some weekend morning.

I was up by 5am today, as our dog is somewhat befuddled by the deck project, as her normal pathway to urinary relief has been removed for a few days while the contractor builds a new deck support structure, and Alex’s rather clever attempt at a temporary deck just isn’t what she’s used to. She is a creature of habit, a slave to the familiar really, and changes such as these mean she’d rather claw at the side of the house than simply jump up on the 4 foot square deck that Alex built. It was my turn to cater to her needs, so I let Karen sleep, rescued the dog from her self imposed backyard exile, and slipped into my jetted tub.

I may as well admit to all that I often sit in my tub for an hour or more, and I do with my computer! It’s a rather large but affordale contractors reject, one that simply needed some of the jetting plumbing replaced. I felt rather clever and frugal that day, now something like 20 years back. I lay a board across the tub and rest my battery powered laptop there, the world at my fingertips as the bubbles churn about me. Decadence defined, and just quirky enough that I don’t think I have admitted this to anyone before, a rather odd circumstance given how I seem to revel in the unsual most other moments in my life.

Then it was breakfast with the family, including Alex’s girlfriend Claire, a nice, though amazingly shy girl. She is certainly welcome at any family events, as she loves my son, and that’s the only requirement she need meet at this point.

My Father’s Day presents were all given with thoughts of my boat project in mind, lights for quiet evenings writing or reading while at anchor on some secluded bend in the river. I had asked for miniature candle lanterns, but tehnology has transformed candle lanterns so that they also include strategically placed high intensity LED lights, perfect for reading the screen of my wife’s Kindle or this Alphasmart. My famly also added in a FreePlay light that can be wound to renew the charge, a few minutes of which can give several hours of blinding light. Or so they claim.

Time to try them out, and my Kelly Kettle as well.

Kelly Kettleand lamps video

It took about four minutes for the water to start boiling. I know the camera was a bit jerky, but it gives you the idea.

While I was filming Alex asked me what my father would be doing right now if he were still alive. Alex never met my father as he died of a heart attack more than 25 years ago, at least five years before Alex was born. It’s a queston I’ve often daydreamed about as well, especially in relation to my kids. He would have been so proud of them both, just as I am. I can think of three or four things that were central to my father’s sense of life that would shape his choices for this day, were he alive.

First off there was his desire to do well for his family, though his journey toward that goal would prove to be awfully complicated and difficult at times. His mother was evil. That’s all I’ll say about that today, other than to add that shortly before he died he went to visit her for the first time in about twenty years, and the first words out of her mouth were, “you’re still ugly”. So much pain there for my father, and one would guess there’s pain behind the anger of my grandmother as well. He was dead within months, while she hung on for a few more years. We didn’t go to her funeral, if there even was one. Anyway, he would be with his family, of that there is no doubt.

Music was also key to my father’s enjoyment of life. As I sit here typing this Alex is down working on his boat, singing. And Jessa has done SO much with music that would give him such joy. He would be absolutely thrilled with her.

And we was a man who enjoyed using his hands, making things. He built the house I grew up in, made stained glass windows and carved many statues as well. Sadly, his house was torn down, the victim of high land prices on Mercer Island, though the money from the sale of the land supported my mother in a high quality home that helped her through, as best it could, her dementia. When she died, there was also still enough money left to give each of his children a chance to either pay off their bills or, in my case, build a few dreams.

To answer Alex’s question… my father would be down in the driveway with Alex, showing him how to work on his boat. He would, if he were living, be in his element, helping his grandson work with wood. He would have spent time earlier in the day watching Jessa rehearse at her play, or more likely, begging her to play her bass.

But he is dead, and he didn’t spend the day with us. I know that nothing would please him more than knowing of the day I’ve had, capped off with his grandson’s question.

There’s something joyful, and something painful in that question for me. As I shared with Alex, I spent father’s day with my father through memory alone, as I have done for almost as many years as I spent with him while he was living. Strange that I’ve never thought of it that way before. Sobering and sad somehow, yet a part of the natural cycle of life as well. Sorta. Karen still has both her parents, and the math isn’t likely to play out in the same ratio for her.

Going to head in now and upload all this, once I’ve cleaned up all my gadgets!

Michel Deneuve plays the Cristal Baschet.

04-porte-par-le-vent-carried-by-the-wind

07-agua-temple-water-temple1

I just got word today that they will start building my Cristal next week. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event for me. Pretty cool.

First off, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNAov_raA2o

Absolute calm day on Case Inlet which is where I want to cruise

Bucket List

My goal in building a boat really comes from the belief that there is more to my life than working.  For legal reasons I won’t go in to details about work other than to say the last two people who had my job left it because they were miserable.    I am not that, but it has it’s challenges.

 So what do I seek?   Before I get philosophical let me set the stage with something a bit less cerebral… a bucket list.   What do I want to do before I kick the bucket?

In no particular order, and subject to change at any time, as is fitting a list based on whimsey…

 1.  I want to make diddley bow and gigar box guitars and sell them at Folklife or at the Pike Place Market.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2qUxIuUNtk8  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i2vklC0jhJ4

2.  I want to befriend a wild bird, developing mutual trust, and a gain a little more understanding into it’s social circle.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CkrMmc6AyE  Go about half way in.

3.  I want to learn to fly a powered parachute, a PPG or PPC.  More details later.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyYAtbeqI-k or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvYB89hk4Ks

4.  I want to weigh 200 pounds, which is less than I weigh now!  http://www.sparkpeople.com/mypage.asp?id=SIDECARS

5.  I want to take a boat I built and explore Puget Sound.  I want to spend a few months doing it, though the months could be done a few weeks at a time.   I would also expore the rivers that feed it.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQnv06HprhY&feature=PlayList&p=221CEC877C319393&index=0&playnext=1

6.  I want to write a book with a boat journey as the foundation, but filled with ponderings from my life.

7.  I’d like to write a book about living the shantyboat life, not a life in a junky boat, rather a life in motion on the water, lived frugally, but with purpose and adventure.

8.  I’d like to explore the waters of the lower Columbia River, spending months stopping in towns, eating at local diners, sitting in local parks, watching little league games cheering on the losing team.  I’d like to get to know the places and the people, and know them well.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=465uqAVb1HQ

9.  I’d like to substitute teach a few times to see if I like it.   I was a teacher back in 1996 when I made these web pages with my students.  The internet was totally new at this time, and our website was one of the first!  http://web.archive.org/web/19980416003252/http://woweb.norshore.wednet.edu/woodin/LOWE/LOWE1.html

10.  I’d like to have dinner with friends more often, not worrying about impressing anyone, rather focusing on having fun and a sense of connection, sharing the making of the dinner with them, working together. 

11.  I’d like to make a set of boat plans and sell them.

12.  I’d like to collect enough blackberries to get me through a year!  I’d make pies, cobblers, and more.

13.  I’d like to grow my own food.

14.  I’d like to develop my own recipe for flavored and/or marinated tofu.

15.  I’d like to develop a delicious and health fake meat.

16.  I’d like to have a pet bird, perhaps a pigeon, that would be able to fly free, yet would consider my boat or house it’s home.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYpJwFzlQU0

17.  I’d like to spend time with children, bringing themon adventures such as zoo outings, train rides, and trips to fairs and festivals.

18.  I’d like to go on a boat trip with my son, each in our own boats, but joinging together at dinner, spending time talking and cooking.

19.  I’d like to go on an adventure with my daughter, perhaps a train trip, heading somewhere we both would like to go, taking the time to explore and find hidden treasures.

20.  I’d like to spend a few days on a farm, sitting and sipping tea on a beautiful day on a front porch in the shade.

21.  I want to make cheeses again.

22.  I want to make sodas with interesting flavors.

23.  I want to learn, really learn, to play my Cristal Baschet.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tHTY5VU3kXg

24.  I want to take more train rides.

25.  I want to spend a week on the Skagit River.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yj8UIbByCmo

26.  I want to figure out how to make a fake meat chicken teriyaki.

27.  I’d like to go to a farmers market and listen to the music for a few hours.  Bring a chair and an umbrella.

28.  I’d like to visit club gatherings, such as dog or guinea pig shows, or rat fest, or pow wows.

29.  I’d like to form a band with my cristal baschet and play a blend of world music, new age, jazz, and classical.   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t8AuZ6kDNRk

 30.   I’d like to play my cristal bascet into speakers that are under water in a swimming pool as part of an art exhibition, along with a projected video art creation, one which I create.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=za-GcIE8BX8

31.  I want to make bird houses and put them on pilings in the SNohomish River the local sloughs.

32.  I want to establish a group that works to keep the sloughs clean and safe for the local wildlife.

33.  I’d like to spend a night in a hammock tent, someplace where nobody has ever camped  before! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J2nuIibqeiI

 34.     I want to learn to play cajun accordion.  By the way…

35. I’d like to de-clutter. I am so good at acquiring stuff, and so bad at getting rid of it!
36. I’d like to try a Buchla Lightning. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kiY9MzCYmbM