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About: Who is this guy?
Life: The adventure of a lifetime
Art: My church
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Politics: The art of controlling your environment
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Vintage Outlandish!

This Content From 2003 (or earlier) see index

Mark and Shannon

Mark and his special lady Shannon, both monkeys, at the country fair 2001. Mark is (clearly) the one with the wild punk hairstlye.

Marcus Gravy

Mark's one of my best friends. All kidding aside, I find him a little bit inspirational. Not because he's done anything monumentous with his life (yet), but because he's such a good natured person. Sure, he's full of averice and envy like the rest of us, and he unabashedly hates fat people for being un-aesthetic, but he's got an encredibly warm and open nature. I whole-heartedly endorse him.

I met Mark in 6th grade when he moved down from Alaska and came to Waldorf school with me, but we didn't really become close friends until 10th grade, when he and Luke and I became the triad that we were. See the entry on Luke for a little history on that.

Mark with Hangover

Mark with a hangover. Not an uncommon sight, though we do tend to keep things in check more than back in the old days. I was playing fooseball and drinking spicy V8 and Pabst (the "bloody beer") with him until 5am. Good times.

Mark and I keep in touch fairly regularly. He came out here (along with my sister) about a month after the 9-11 tragedy, and it was good to charge my batteries up on his energy for a week. He lives in Northern California with his fabulous girlfriend Shannon (pictured), rides a motorcycle, and goes to Humbold State University. I've visited them down there, and while I couldn't settle into that pace for a living (I need the speed of the city, just like he needs the godlike presence of the sea), I have to admire it for all its bucolic splendor. It's an all-american paradise of sorts.

Mark and I also share an utopian social vision: Within our shared groups of friends there are two semi-distinct camps. For simplicity's sake I'll call them the Hippies and the Punks, although neither label is completely accurate. They're all good people, and they all know how to party, but they don't get along with eachother. Recently my and Mark's best efforts have allowed more and more cross clique misegination to occur. There appears to be movement on all sides, with common maturity and the realization that Good Folk are Hard to Find. My great hope is that we can all become one happy greased-up monkey family

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Trips

Trips in Space and Time 8/02/03

Big Wheels in Berkeley
I scored a set of west-coast wheels today at the Ashby BART station flea market. It's a very tall schwinn road bike, black, deceptively heavy but smooth-riding. Thirty-five dollars to boot. I oiled and cleaned the works, dialed in the bakes and took it out for a shake-down cruise immediately. Nice riding on a beautiful saturday, realizing how out of shape I am as I wheezed my way though the hilly area behind the Berkeley campus.

After about an hour I started to get the swing of it. Made some minor mechanical adjustments (including a free wheel truing at the bike collective on Shattuck), drank a few liters of water and started finding my groove, cruising up and around and ending up with a beautiful view of the whole bay. The roads here are not kind to the speed inclined -- too many stop signs and crosswalks and lights -- but it was good to get out and proj for a while. This changes my summer dramatically.

...older trips...

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