(image above is from Dungeness Spit State Park, on the Olympic Peninsula, WA STATE, sunset)
So here I am, again, on the eve of leaving WA state just a few weeks after arriving. A circuitous journey from UTAH to the Olympic Peninsula, and tomorrow grabbing the bus for Pennsylvania. I know God is with me, and that helps – but I can’t lie, I feel like I’m getting too old for this kind of life and yet I’m not sure about the options, if any, for itinerant hobos.
You that read this or listen to my podcasts know that I’m not well known for my “sparkly attitude” or optimism. I’m not ashamed, it is part of my story and in recent years reality has as often as not lived down to my expectations – except for Utah.
I left behind two great friends in Utah, and it’s possible I never see them again. Those 2.5 years in Utah, as imperfect as they might have been at times, were the most peaceful and accepting in my whole life, and who knows if this ever repeats itself.
I left behind a dog named Boomer, who wasn’t technically “my dog”, he was just my friend. If I stop long enough to think about it I’d probably start crying and I can’t do that yet – a new friend, I hope, is making a place for me in a cabin in the woods, a la TED K. Nothing that extreme, but it is simply the case that I probably won’t see Boomer again either and it’s hard to know for sure, with something new, what awaits.
This new friend, a current listener, doesn’t know what to expect either …
I could be some kind of weirdo, or sociopath, or user or manipulator – as are so many these days. I could be some petty grifter looking to sucker the average schmuck out of their limited funds. I could be an incurably broken soul that has used up most of his extra energy, and is running on empty, and surely doesn’t know if he (me) has what it takes to move on. I might just be a middle aged hobo-shaman style podcaster, and this is likely – and also someone who will help out where/when he can. I think I’m basically a good guy, but who am I to judge? So I guess this dude in PA will learn more about me than he ever could have from “just listening” to the ponderous and bizarre rantings coming from beyond, from the WWW.
I think I’m going to be okay, but this too could be some kind of madness. I have faith that there is this resting place to sojourn, to build, to work, and maybe to figure out a way in this world … assuming such things are on the menu. If you listen to my podcast, you are well aware that I don’t believe “new normal” or any version of it is on the menu.
Here is what I can promise to you, the listeners: I won’t give up.
I’m not ready to turn tail and run, I’m not ready for the fat lady.
Yes – strange times and new places abound for me, and the great adventure of getting what little shit I have left from WA to PA without losing it or having it stolen.
And yet, I’m still here.
And yes, you are still here too.
We are here together, in BOBLIMPTOCK, trapped in an internal diaspora of existential dead ends and constrained/confused possibilities – circling the drain together, waiting for the “big flush”.
(what a time to be alive)