Today when leaving the farm, I had forgotten to see my landlord’s garage, even though I had turned down the street from which it was viewable. I passed it without looking. I had to turn around because it had been recently tagged with the words “Love you” and a little heart that also looked like a penis and balls, a very small penis, or was it a heart? Or could the little heart be a clover, my favorite aerobatic move.
I turned around because looking at it made me feel good. That at least someone had the guts to put that on the wrong fucking address. My landlord’s garage, I’d be painting it this weekend.
I turned around and noticed a plumbers’ truck parked in the driveway, blocking my view. I stopped to chat with them. We had been searching for a leak that was costing Satoko $500/month. I’d fixed these 1.25″ galvanized pipe lines all over the farm for years. Everything is made out of the same sized galvanized pipe. The entire fucking farm is made of the same pipe. The green houses, the water lines, steam lines — everything is made from the same pipe.
When the plumbers described all the hand digging that they would need to do to replace 70 year old rusted out pipe. I suggested a fix, one that I’d done a few times on the farm. The plumbers were at first reluctant to do a fix that would only last some few years. By reminding them that all the homes would be razed soon, and pointing out the field across the street that was barren, that this place would look the same in just a dozen moons.
We talk a lot about loss this year. Everything I have worked for in the last decade will be destroyed when the farm gets sold. I’ve been giving away all the xtra stuff here and its taken months. Detaching from a decade’s passion of rebuilding, fixing and creating is hard, but it is also worth doing. One must fly through the crash.
The plumbers understood. I left and their price dropped from $11K to $9K to just $1.5K and the job got done not in 3-4 days, but finished just after lunch. Glad I turned around for just one more look. I think I’m going to edit the graffiti to read “I Love you More,” but that’s just my daydream.
It is difficult to write a biography of something that doesn’t make sense. I love flying, building, making, unmaking, destroying, destructing, and guns. Including a passion for machines that go fast, loud bangs, music, dancing, kung-fu fighting. Being kind and helping is an achievable goal balanced with inverted flight.
There is an interest in how I make decisions — this answer is easy, I don’t make decisions, God does.