Todays moment of Happiness - Providence version

Ivan and I flew out to Providence, Rhode Island this weekend to surprise my best friend, Thom, for his 40th birthday. So, in honor of Thom and this surprisingly nice city (I grew up 50 miles away and had always heard that Providence was shite) here's a little Guster playing all live and acoustic-like.

Evening at Doe Bay

Evening at Doe Bay
Originally uploaded by leaada

Take two. This lovely picture was taken by the lovely Lea, I believe, in the spring of 2006 when we went there together. We didn't have a clear view like this over the weekend, but I think it gives a nice sense of the place.

I think I'll put a link to her flickr page so y'all can get a gander at her work.

Today's Moment of Happiness - Snow day at Green Lake

It snowed this weekend in the great Pacific Northwest. We'd gone up to Orcas Island and enjoyed watching the snow fall as we soaked in hot tubs overlooking Doe Bay. Regretfully, we have no video of it so I offer you this lovely 69 seconds of winter bliss at Green Lake in Seattle.

Shock Doctrine, Pt. 2

I so want to read this book.

Today's Moment of Happiness -Big Man On Mulberry Street

One of the best scenes ever, from one of the best shows ever (Moonlighting), with one of the best Billy Joel songs ever, with one of the best dancers ever (Sandahl Bergman), directed by the legendary Stanley Donen! Bonus? This was before Bruce Willis became such an asshole.

Today's Moment of Happiness

Buddy Wakefield is a National Slam Winner and a Seattle resident. Seeing him live is liking drinking sunshine in fizzy form.

The Shock Doctrine

While driving around taking care of a bunch of errands last night, I heard snippets of a talk by Naomi Kline on KUOW about her new book "The Shock Doctrine" in which she outlines the history and thesis behind the term "shock doctrine" and it's relationship to disaster capitalism. Going in and out of stores it wasn't possible to hear the entire segment but what I did catch was both distressing and intriguing.

The above short film is the result of the collaboration between Naomi and Alfonso Cuaron, director of such films as "Children of Men" and "Y tu mama tambien".

Today's Moment of Happiness - You've Got to Hide Your Love Away

What's not to love? The sets, the song, John's voice, George's face, and Ringo in the pit of awesomeness.

Bill Moyers: Who decides what's news?

One more for the road.

Thanks to Crooks and Liars for links.

Olbermann, water boards and I still hate GWBush.

It's been far too long since I've posted here, but I can see a light at the end of the tunnel when I'll have more time to do more of the things I love. In the mean time, here's something that made me very happy today. Not that I have great hopes for the future of this country, but at least I still have hope.

Shameful, Guilty Pleasure

As we count down to Halloween I thought it might be fun to rock my body a little bit. C'mon Everybody ! Backstreet's back!!!!

My Secret Passion...

Run, don't walk, to your nearest purveyor of Odwalla products. It's autumn and the Super Protein Pumpkin has hit the shelves again. Ahhh, Super Protein Pumpkin you make each day just a little bit brighter....

Powered Parachute Flight

Here's a taste of Ivan and I did on Sunday. They had much better weather than we did.

On Mystery Dates and Dates of Mystery (slightly edited.)

On Thursday, Ivan took me on the 2nd Seekrit Mystery Date! We walked downtown again with me peppering him with questions: Are we going to SAM? Are we going to ACT? Are we going to the Fishthrowers Ball? But the boy was as closed mouth as a clam during red tide.

We reached Benaroya Hall at 7:00 - our destination!- and I still had no idea what we were seeing challenged as I was by my date to figure it out myself. Lot's of people, but it's the Symphony so it's hard to define the crowd much more than 'mixed age groups'. With time to kill, we sought out a source of coffee that was not Starbucks. Walking toward 3rd Ave I read the posters on display while Ivan fielded a work call. Suddenly, it jumped out at me: Great Sci-Fi themes with special guest George "Mr. Sulu" Takei!


We had kick-ass seats 6 rows from the stage and they started the evening in the best possible way with the Theme from Star Wars. Readers of Ivan's Bike to the Burn blog will recall that this song holds a special place in his journey, but I have to tell you that for me listening to it live with a full orchestra brought up the most amazing visceral reactions and memories: I was ten years old again in the summer of 1977 watching "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..." scroll up the screen and I was so freaking happy I was almost in tears. Sigh...

So, anyway, George "Mr. Sulu" Takei! came out about half-way thru the first half, dapper in his black tuxedo and cheesiliciously acting the part of Mr. Sulu having just beamed down from the Enterprise to introduce one of their musically talented crew members, Lieutenant Plumley, who sang the wordless aria of the Theme From Star Trek. It was pretty cool and George "Mr. Sulu" Takei! has a fabulously sonorous voice. Overall, the evening was great. Benaroya Hall has amazing acoustics and the Seattle Symphony was in great form. The only dud in the program was that they insisted on performing the much-hated Theme from Star Trek: Enterprise. Seriously, Worst.Theme.Song.Ever. Unlike, Ivan, who is Best.Boyfriend.Ever.

So, to thank him for this bounty of Mystery Dates (#3 is happening in October), I decided to arrange a Date of Mystery! Very much like a Seekrit Mystery Date, except that I would arrange it and not tell him what it was. I hope you all appreciate the HOURS I spent with a patent lawyer hammering out that distinction. Anyway, based on an experience we had on our last full day at Burning Man and things he said afterward, I started to look for blimp/zeppelin rides. Turns out that it is impossible to arrange one unless you own your own blimp/zeppelin. But what I found was pretty freaking cool: a powered parachute ride!


Simplest explanation is that it's kind of like a go-cart with a propeller on the back and, of course, a parachute.

So this past Sunday morning, after going to bed around at midnight the evening before (damn you on-line Scrabble!), we got up at 5:30am to be on the road by 6:00. Calm winds are more common in the morning, so I needed to get him on the airfield by 7:00am

I managed to not reveal my surprise until we reached a McDonald's in Arlington near the airfield we needed to get to. Perhaps it was the leather wearing Christian bikers that inspired me to do so, but I think I was just too darn excited to hold it back any longer. As it turns out, he found out what we were doing a mere 15 minutes before he was strapped in and taking off into the misty horizon.

I went up about 30 minutes later with Mike, a former Marine helicopter pilot, and I must say there were some serious tug-of-warring going on in my mind. Reptile mind was screaming: What the fuck are you doing? Get out of the sky!!!, while rational mind was calmly observing: Oh, look! Cows! I stayed aloft (500 feet, 30 mph) for only about 15 minutes because it was overcast and really cold, otherwise I could have stayed up much longer. It's not a naturally occurring instinct for me to be up in the air (especially exposed as we were), but I can see myself getting accustomed to it with time and experience. Maybe I'll even learn to fly one myself!

The only downside to the whole thing is that, in terms of Dates of Mystery, I think I've blown my wad on this. I'm not sure I can come up with something to top it. But it sure will be fun to try...

Au revoir été!

With fall officially starting in just a few days, let us take a few moments to think about summer's past with the fabulous Buddy Cole.

Burning Man review coming soon...

Just wanted to say that I still plan on writing something about my first Burning Man experience but finding the time since my return has been difficult for a number of reasons. Suffice to say, it's on the agenda and I will have something sooner rather than later.

In the meantime check out the new link over there to the right: BurningCam. NK Guy is a great photographer and an equally great person who has been documenting Burning Man for a number of years now. The 2007 pictures are not yet up (I believe he has about 5000 to go thru) but you should peruse past years and check back frequently so you can get an eyeful as soon as they appear.

Happy Birthday, sicko!

Yesterday was my birthday and I spent all of it pretty much like the rest of the week: being sick. I tried to get up early so I could head back to my apartment to shower and get clean clothes before going to work, and I can usually do it without an alarm clock, but at some feverish and godforsaken hour Ivan, who is also sick, was gently asking me if I'd heard him saying it was 6:30. No, I replied, to which he said something like Seems to me that you should be able to take the day off if your sick and it's your birthday. This seemed wise to me so I crawled to the living room where my cell phone was last seen and left a message for Tram that I wouldn't be in (I think my voice alone - midcentury frog- was enough to indicate the state of affairs) and then crawled back to bed where we both slept until about 11:30. I use the term 'slept' loosely here. Think 'state of unconsciousness punctuated by spasms of coughing and occasional bursts of fever.'

When I reached a state of being capable of maintaining up-rightedness, I spent the afternoon doing errands and trying not to fall asleep before heading to my doctors appointment (guess what? My vitamin D stores are kaput!). Back at Ivan's we read on the couch, had some eggs for dinner followed by pseudo-ice cream sundaes that I like to think of as this year's birthday cake, and watched a couple of episodes of The Tick.

At some point during the morning, before I left to run errands, we were sort of leaning on each other in the hallway being sick and exhausted, staring at Sally or something, and Ivan said Happy Birthday. We laughed realizing, I think, that it was going to be a sucky way to spend the day. And then he said, At least you're not dead.

Very true, obviously, and I am grateful, in general, for being blessed with reasonable good health. As birthday's go I've had worse but I think that I will start prepping for #50 - no cold, no errands, no work, and sundae's for everybody.

Nessun Dorma

Luciano Pavarotti, 1935-2007

Nobody shall sleep!...
Nobody shall sleep!
Even you, o Princess,
in your cold room,
watch the stars,
that tremble with love and with hope.
But my secret is hidden within me,
my name no one shall know...
No!...No!...
On your mouth I will tell it when the light shines.
And my kiss will dissolve the silence that makes you mine!...
(No one will know his name and we must, alas, die.)
Vanish, o night!
Set, stars! Set, stars!
At dawn, I will win! I will win! I will win!

We Return From the Desert!

Ivan, Mark and I made it back to Seattle last night just after sundown. We have yet to unpack the car due to Fausto the Cat's pee'ing rampage all over Ivan's apartment and the fact that we were just too darn tired. So a recap of the week will appear in a few days once I've settled back into some sort of 'normalcy' (what does that even mean?). In the meantime I have to give a huge shout out to Ivan who is not only the best boyfriend ever but one of the best human beings I know. I could have gotten thru Burning Man with other people's guidance and help but it would not have been the same due to his amazing care and attention.

Oh, my dear lord....I have no words.

The Finnish band Gregorious performs a spirited rendition of the Village People's gay disco classic "YMCA" (NMKY).

Theories of Time & Space by Natasha Trethewey

You can get there from here, though
there’s no going home.

Everywhere you go will be somewhere
you’ve never been. Try this:

head south on Mississippi 49, one-
by-one mile markers ticking off

another minute of your life. Follow this
to its natural conclusion – dead end

at the coast, the pier at Gulfport where
riggings of shrimp boats are loose stitches

in a sky threatening rain. Cross over
the man-made beach, 26 miles of sand

dumped on a mangrove swamp – buried
terrain of the past. Bring only

what you must carry – tome of memory
its random blank pages. On the dock

where you board the boat for Ship Island,
someone will take your picture:

the photograph – who you were –
will be waiting when you return

Warmth, Giant Black Toobs no.3

I took Sally to Volunteer Park on Friday afternoon to see version 4 of this amazing installation. Sally was singularly unimpressed, but walking among these giant, undulating pieces was so amazing as to be hard to describe. They reminded me of hair, fingers, sea anemone, surreal landscape memories.

I realized later that I had only taken the smallest amount of time to wonder about how they work (somehow solar powered), allowing myself instead to just enjoy being in their presence.

Mini Ivan Report #2

He has made it to Shaniko, OR - where 97 intersects with 218. He thinks he'll get to Bend, OR on M0nday.

His solar panel charger is not working as effectively as he had hoped, so his blogging may continue to be sporadic as his ride continues. I, for one, hope that he hits a good stretch of sun so that he can. Not just because it lets me know he's ok (which is a very good thing), but I really enjoy his posts from the road. They're kind of addicting :).

ETA: According to Google Maps (which I've finally figured out) he's biked 288 miles so far!

Not Suitable For Work

Dear lord, I love Reggie Watts!

Sally's Big Night

A couple of things you should know about me: 1) I am a sucker. 2) I am a super sucker for dogs. Knowing this now, you can probably guess that Sally has me wrapped around her paw. So it's not enough that I pet sit for her (and that fat fuck Fausto) for a week and a half, I have taken it upon myself to ensure that all of her emotional and physical needs are met and maybe even exceeded.

So this evening I loaded her up in the 'baru after work and, with Tina, took a ride over to the Magnuson Off-leash Park (with a quick stop at Tina's where she bequeathed me some possible Burning Man costumery). Sally was allowed to come in and she spent a good amount of time just sniffing around.

Once at the park I had to put Sally on the leash, which she doesn't need at all, but they have all these rules and signs everywhere that shout at you: blah blah blah leash! She was, as usual, a good sport but was so very, very excited to get her freedom once we got thru the gates. She made a bee line to the water and frolicked in her own calm, Sally way. Poor planning on my part - I forgot a stick - but she still had a lovely time swimming, smelling other dogs butts, and running about like a happy, happy puppy.

After dropping Tina off, we then headed to my place in Ballard with another quick stop - this time to Mud Bay Granary on Greenwood where I got her some high falutin', organic parmesan doggy biscuits to replace the beef berry snacks from REI that I'd been bribing her with for a while now. These biscuits definitely did the trick as she proceeded to follow me every time I headed to the kitchen where she would stare longingly at the bag of biscuits on the window sill. I was tempted to giver her more but I knew that I ran the risk of becoming more than your ordinary, run of the mill sucker if I had.

Anyway, we've been home for a little more than an hour and Sally has abandoned all pretense that she doesn't sleep on the couch when no one is looking. She's crawled up onto the end closest to the window, her head propped on the armrest, a front paw draped over a pillow. She looked right thru me when I came out of the bathroom ready to blog and she pretended not to hear me when I first gave her a half-hearted reprimand and then asked her politely to move.

So here I am, wedged in between a farty black lab to my right and a plotting, evil cat jealous of all the attention he's not getting to my left. All of us tired, nodding off, and dreaming of cheese.

If ever you are in Copenhagen...

There are a number of designs and graphic elements in the rooms at Hotel Fox in Copenhagen, Denmark that I LOVE. But I don't know if I could sleep in them. Bathe. Eat. Hang out and watch DVD's. Sure. 40 winks? I'm not so sure. Check 'em out and tell me what you think.

Mini Ivan Report

Brief contact with Ivan last night. Lack of sunlight for solar recharge and/or no wifi connection has made blogging difficult. He'll have more to report when he can get on-line but for those of us tracking his progress as of last night he was at Cayuse Pass (where wa-410 & wa-123 meet) and was planning on climbing it today. Hard to tell how many miles he's gone so far. I'm having trouble mapping it on Google, but MapQuest puts it at about 82 miles with a slightly different route to Enumclaw. That means roughly 638 miles to go.

Evening

My first night staying alone at Ivan's. Quiet so far. Sally alternates between barking at anybody who sets foot on the porch, lying flat on the floor like a chicken getting ready for roasting, and looking at me quizzically as if to say: I know you, but where is the one with the deeper voice who is usually here? Fausto, on the other hand is napping draped over the top of the couch just to the right of my head. A paw comes out occasionally and touches my hair with soft, furry strokes.

Sensual Deprivation by Pattiann Rogers

I've never held a monkey of any kind,
never smoothed the stubbled fur
of a collared titi's head or enclosed
the twig-thin bones of a spider monkey's
fingers in mine or followed the wrinkled
petal of its primrose ear by touch.

Though I've held a live chicken hen
full grown, I've never put my finger
under the feathers of an eagle's throat,
felt the kind of furious flutter
that must pass there continuously
as it sails in surges above the buttresses
of seacliffs or down the thunder
of river passes, that hot, pulsing
thudder under its skin, raging
even as it roosts, even all night
under a dissolving and rainy moon.

I've never pressed the ball of my thumb
against a common wombat's claw
or felt the spotted cuscus curl its pink,
naked tail tip around my finger
or pressed my hand to the bass-drum
barrel of a sea lion's ribs as it bellows
or let the tentacle of a short fin squid
suck to my fist.

What of essence can the eyes alone
truly perceive, those overrated, flighty
skimmers? After all, it was the hands
that invented fondling, the fingers
that created gentleness.

And I, who actually claim
to know you, have never once studied
with my finger the intricate assertion
of your inner wrist, have never found
your stance from neck to feet, every linked
furrow and tone, by touching them all,
or felt your breath as proof on my fingers
during a shrill snow closing in
on a day like this one.

What can I know, possessing now a touch
so restricted, a grasp so limited,
such ignorant hands, such poor,
deprived fingers, such a pitiful,
hampered heart?

How to build your own Hobbit Hole

I'm pretty sure you don't need to live in Wales to do this.

Morning Musings

It's 9:00 a.m. and, unless something untoward happened to him after leaving me at the bus stop this morning, Ivan is on the road at last. Last night I got home and there he was, puttering around his bike, arranging the last few items of gear and, although I knew he'd be there, my reaction was: "Oh. You. Are you still here?"

Maybe it wasn't such an odd reaction because for weeks he was leaving on Monday morning. Yep, gonna leave on Monday the 13th. And there was, for me, a swelling sense of sad anticipation because he was leaving on Monday and I wouldn't see him for two.whole. weeks and everything was for 'the last time'. The last time we'd eat dinner together for two whole weeks. The last time we'd fall asleep together for two whole weeks. The last time he'd make me my morning coffee for two whole weeks. The last time we'd walk Sally together for two whole weeks. And when he walked me to the bus stop on Monday morning we held hands and kissed and stood very close together because this was good bye FOR TWO WHOLE WEEKS!

(I should note here that we've been together for less than six months so, yes, it's a bit syrupy but cut me some slack.)

Anyway, next thing I know : Nope, not leaving. See you tonight. Gah!

Now don't get me wrong, I'm glad we had an additional night together but this morning coffee was just coffee, the walk to the bus stop felt kind of rushed and as we held hands I wondered if I needed more hand lotion because they were feeling kind of dry. Talk about an anticlimax.

But I've had a couple of hours to think about it now and I think it was a good thing to have happened. He's on the road and I'm no longer starry eyed about the separation. I can plant myself even more firmly in the "This is an awesome thing you're doing!" camp and look forward to reading about his adventures on his blog. I'm less likely to worry about him. And I can simply look forward to meeting up with him at BM where we can set up our tent, fall asleep together, and have morning coffee together there.

More importantly, I can focus on getting myself prepared for my first Burning Man experience: What am I going to do? What and who am I going to see? What the hell am I going to wear? I'm glad that that he'll be there with me, but I'm even more glad that I'm going at all. I have tentative plans to volunteer at a few camps so that my experience will be focused on 'me' rather than on 'us'.

At breakfast a couple of weeks ago with Mark McB and JulieP, we talked about BM as an opportunity to explore and expand one's boundaries. I would also add that it can be about examining how one experiences life. I want to go to BM with intention: to do things that I've never done before, to take risks small and large, to look at life upside down and with clothes that don't necessarily match.

Ivan is on his adventure now. Mine starts in 2 weeks.

Life is known only by those who have found a way to be comfortable with change and the unknown. Given the nature of life, there may be no security, but only adventure.

Kiwi

Grab a hankie...

3..2..1...We have lift-off!

Ivan leaves today for his epic 700+ miles bike ride to Burning Man. I've linked his travel blog over there to the right. You can also access it here: http://www.cockrumville.com/biketotheburn/

UPDATE! I may have been hasty in the above statement...Will keep you posted.

Le Grand Content

Since I don't go to church anymore, I've started to use my Sunday mornings to ponder "LIFE". You know, the 'Big Questions', "Le Grand Content.'

Forgetfulness - Billy Collins Animated Poetry

Another animated poem from Billy Collins. I love the technique employed in this one.

Puttin' on the Ritz - Young Frankenstein.

The original in all its black and white glory!

Seekrit Mystery Date: Revealed!

I have a cool boyfriend. Because he took me on a pretty damn good SMD: I, in my pretty summer dress, and Ivan sporting his utilikilt (with optional tiger tale) walked to the Paramount theater and saw a performance of Mel Brook's new musical "Young Frankenstein" which is playing here first before heading to Broadway. According to what Daniel the Fire Guy told us at the Georgetown Old Skool carnival back in June, Broadway producers like mounting shows first at the Paramount (Hairspray premiered here, I think) because the stage itself is rather shallow. They figure if they can make it technically work here, it'll work in any other theater it goes to. And, really, can you get any further geographically from NYC?

Anyway, it was a lot of fun although not the best musical either of us has ever seen - the first act lasted forevvvvver with 95% of the dialogue lifted directly from the movie. Only the ending was rewritten to meet the convention of a theater piece. Unsurprisingly, the best song was "Putting On the Ritz" written by Irving Berlin and they performed the hell out of it. But what made the play for me was the amazing cast - almost all multiple award winners: Roger Bart as Frankenstein, Megan Mullaly as Elizabeth, Andrea Martin(!) as Frau Blucher, Sutton Place as Inga, and Shuler Hensley as the Monster. These were actors at the top of their game turning so-so material into gold. Or silver. Without question better than regional musical theater.

Seekrit Mystery Date

I'm very excited! After hours of anxious wondering, the sun has finally made an appearance and it's looking better all the time for wearing a pretty dress tonight.

"Why?" you ask.

Because Ivan is taking me on a seekrit mystery date. I think he said we were going downtown and I know he said that we are walking and I'm fairly certain that a pretty dress is not a requirement, but I've been living in jeans, shorts and tank tops all summer so it'll be a nice change of pace. Besides, how often does one get to go on a seekrit mystery date? The one concession to my usual standard of dress is that I will be wearing my brown Chuck Taylors. Because we will be walking. Maybe downtown. Maybe not. I don't know - it's a seekrit mystery date.

On the other hand, if it turns crappy again I'll have to come up with a Plan B worthy of an smd.

The Dead - Billy Collins Animated Poetry

I suggest you watch this three times: Once with your eyes open. The second time with your eyes closed so you can actually focus on the words. The third with your eyes open again. Enjoy!

Living Small in Paris

335 square feet. 2 rooms. Paris. What more could you want?

Living Small

The topic of living small has come up a number of times over the last couple of weeks so I thought I'd share this article: The art of Living in Small Places.

When you start thinking about the idea's behind small living, you naturally start with questions: Does living small mean living without? How is quality of life affected? Do I really need all this crap? How much do I really need to survive without feeling like I'm deprived? How small is small? What is too big?

Do I have answers? No. Well, at least not answers that I'm willing to stand behind 100%. What I do know is that I would like to own my own home some day and with the housing market being what it is, some creative solutions will have to come into play to either be able to afford something or to creatively some up with solutions so you don't have to worry about the money aspect too much.

So, my first questions to myself that I want to answer? Do I really need all this crap? And how much do I really need to survive without feeling like I'm deprived?

Answers coming soon!

Countdown!

Ivan leaves for Burning Man in 5 days - on the 13th. He's figuring on biking about 50 miles per day on his recumbent carrying just the essentials: water, some Cliff Bars and Goo, a couple changes of clothing, tools, tent and sleeping bag of the 'watch how small I can roll up into' variety, and a credit card.

The latest development of his trip is that last night he fulfilled a long and deeply held desire by purchasing an iPhone. The idea is that this will allow him to chronicle his adventure to the desert online on a daily basis. I haven't actually seen this iPhone yet, but he has promised that I can watch him rub it all over his body. Seriously, he wanted one that badly.

I leave for Burning Man on August 25 with our friend Mark McB - 17 days. I fluctuate between being 'ok, whatever' about the whole thing and being panicked in a 'dear lord jesus, what am I going to wear?!' kind of way. So far I have two pieces of clothing: a simple, white short sleeved dashiki that I can wear as a short dress and a long, black faux velvet jacket with high slits up the sides and faux fur around the neckline and wrists. Ivan commented that he thought it might be too nice to bring to the playa, and it might be because it's dead sexy.

Whatever. After he leaves I'll focus my energy on completing the wardrobe because right now we need to make sure we've got everything ready for the actual camping part: food, shelter, tools, etc. Conditions out there are harsh and having all our physical needs met is priority one. I'll have more about that in a later post.

Charles Simic, New Poet Laureat

Here are a couple of poems by our new U.S. Poet Laureate:


This Morning

Enter without knocking, hard-working ant. I'm just sitting here mulling over What to do this dark, overcast day? It was a night of the radio turned down low, Fitful sleep, vague, troubling dreams. I woke up lovesick and confused. I thought I heard Estella in the garden singing And some bird answering her, But it was the rain. Dark tree tops swaying And whispering. "Come to me my desire," I said. And she came to me by and by, Her breath smelling of mint, her tongue Wetting my cheek, and then she vanished. Slowly day came, a gray streak of daylight To bathe my hands and face in. Hours passed, and then you crawled Under the door, and stopped before me. You visit the same tailors the mourners do, Mr. Ant. I like the silence between us, The quiet--that holy state even the rain Knows about. Listen to her begin to fall, As if with eyes closed, Muting each drop in her wild-beating heart. Watermelons Green Buddhas On the fruit stand. We eat the smile And spit out the teeth.