As We Travel And Grow We Might Just Turn To Snow

I think I may have accidentally linked this blog to my Facebook. Now that it's done I won't bother to undo it as the prospect of a potential employer, snooping through personality profiles, might read long winded (if that's possible for the written word) diatribes on French Toast and other preferred topics. 

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In a return to form, the amazing returned to my life. Those who know me, realize my definition of amazing is idiosyncratic and ever changing. I see great beauty in the television commercial "Daddy's Little Girls" in which two little girls set their Dad on a date by giving him Just For Men hair dye. I see beauty everywhere, when Baby Jamster is attacked by a cactus it is more than bad luck. As I have come to understand my new room mate I've come to accept him as a throw back. 

I cannot overstate how refreshing this is to my world of college students/artists/people who work at Kinko's. 

We frequently foray into Joshua Tree for a bit of an exit, artistic missions, and hikes of varying challenges. On these hikes, Baby Jamster frequently finds himself attacked by a cactus. 

We were walking through fields of Cholla, especially barbed cacti that strongly resemble the fictional vegetation from Super Mario 3. Observing the world in his familiar nonchalance Baby Jamster remarked that "This land is hazardous." 

Moments later he screamed "FUCK!" We turned around to the horrifying sight of three cacti lodged in his left calf. He couldn't pull them out. He could barely walk. Nick ran to his car and got some spare scissors. He cut off the larger barbs and sucked it up. One by one, Jamster pulled out the barbs. Judging by the scars in his leg there were at least seventy, but none fell out with ease. Watching him perform auto-semi-surgery provided the variety of nausea reserved for seeing road kill. 

Not able to take it, I went in search of some smug distraction. A few feet away was the trail entry way. We hadn't bothered to take the trail. After a three hour drive, made a half an hour longer by my insistence to visit the cholla, abiding the signs was a low priority. We clambored out of the car to conquer!

If we were patient, if prudence had prevailed and we began at a path head, surely we would have noted the three warning signs and poetic dismissal of the cacti's evolutionary purpose. Coulda/woulda/shoulda but it feels damned good to be your damn ignorant self. After walking the path I returned to Jamster, sometimes known as Justin or "The Jam" when feeling affectionate. He'd removed many of the barbs and struggled with a large one. He's a rather slim fellow but when he pulled out the cactus it stretched the flesh of his leg five inches from the bone. 

It might have hurt and embarrassed but it was a thoroughly Jamster thing to do. He shines as a mountain man, tough guy, and man of mythic proportions. He regales Nick with stories of camping in the snow with little supplies and lots of beer. He's legend has already grown to such proportions that I was able to convince Nick he killed a man in self defense. This is the sort of thing that sticks with someone, marking them forever, but its all gravy to Jamster. 

He'll go on being Jamster and the world--being the world--recognizing his place in the great narrative throws several tests to determine just how tough, nonplussed, and adventurous the guy really is. Such instances are common in the Great Narrative (if you are unfamiliar with this concept just ask me as it's the only thing I ever talk about). Certain events, in this case cacti attacks, always seem to happen to certain people. Of course there are variables, probabilities, and a lot of assorted other mish-mosh much the cumulative effect of it all is the Great Narrative. 

A cactus attacking Jamster would happen in the Great Narrative. 

By responding in thoroughly Jamstastic fashion, Jamster affirms his role in the Great Narrative. 

It can not easily be described but everything done by any one or thing makes perfect sense. As it has occurred, so too does an annal of what it means and how it came about. 

The Narrative works especially well on an individual basis as friends become infinitely more interesting. If you don't believe me listen to Jeff describe Nico do anything. Gain enough familiarity with someone and they begin to make sense but the same can be true of perfect strangers. Once in a while the world will get world and wily as events charitably allow something to be perfectly designed by a person, event, or Baron Davis jump shot. In my rollicking journal of the Great Narrative I refer to these as "paragons". There are a lot of these at the grocery store. 

Today, annoyance and the third wheel were perfectly personified. 

Three high-schoolers, two boys and a girl,  walk the aisles of Ralph's. Judging from the hand holding one is a couple. Judging from the aloof and wandering nature of the other male he was best friends with the boyfriend. 

The couple moseyed through the snack aisle as the girl noted her pancake mix, felt a flutter of romance and the desire to make things more interesting. 

"Why don't we get some chocolate chips and make chocolate chip pancakes?"

The boyfriend responded "Why don't we get some chocolate chips and have chocolate chips." 

Footsteps could be heard running over from the next aisle. The friend ran toward the couple and skidded to a halt before their cart. 

"Why don't you get some chocolate chips and have some chocolate chip puss-ay!?!" 

No response. 

"But you can throw the chips away and just get that puss-ay!?!" 

He held his hand up for a high five but the boyfriend just shook his head. No one knew what to do. I was reasonably sure this would make my night more awkward and I wasn't even a part of the conversation.