The sand was whipping down the beach strong enough to peel paint. Looked cool as heck, about a foot off the ground, this cloud of particles rushing by at four or five times the speed of light, it seemed.
I put my arms out once to try and gague the velocity, relying on old feelings and memories from sailing. My guess was sustained winds peaking at 35 mph, gusting at least 45.
However average sustained was probably around 25. Double-reef at least.
Reality settling in with me settling in; no more the moving, now the moved. Drivers license changes, as well as registering the truck which (I didn't know) I found out doesn't have to be smogged outside Portland and greater Willamette Valley. Imagine that.
Shoulda spent another thousand on painting supplies. Oops.
I tell ya, liquid oil -- aka Rustoleum -- is something else as a medium. But that's the Picasso Lowbrow post.
Back to being a poor guy. The run with the fun was great while it lasted. I think of Bill Murray's character in "Stripes," just before the enlistment: "And then depression set in."
Let's hope not.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
A Quick Word about Dating
Dating. O brother it sucks.
Don’t get me wrong, when it’s right it’s terrific. Yumm.
So I’m on these two electronic meeting sites. I’d rather date women my own age, believe it or not. BUT, then again, I’d rather not.
I’m not vain or deluded. I’m a geezer. I know it. I look in the mirror and even though that’s not me, it’s Shreck, I also know it’s me. I get it. So I don’t expect to be banging 20 year olds two at a time.
Often.
And women much younger than me, I just have trouble with some of the trends and pop culture.
But women my age, while they are superior when it comes to confidence and strength and experience, they are mostly wrecked up emotionally. Pardon my rash generalization, but I have some experience on which to base the observation. If it isn’t hormones then it must be mass insanity. I’m serious.
Women my age and older routinely blow through the expressed boundaries I put on my dating expectations, as though age, drinking, smoking don’t matter, they’re exempt from the rules. Or else my boundaries mean squat to them.
Their profiles often bespeak the insecurity and pain of prior relationships left unsettled.
Not only that, they seem to be almost universally prone to hold me responsible for the shit they got from other men. It’s not overt, but done subtly. These women often make rash generalizations like the one I did earlier, placing men into categories (“you’re the kind of man… your kind is why”), I’m not kidding. If we guys did that they’d call us sexist and rightfully so. But that sure doesn’t stop many women 50 and above from engaging in sexist thinking and behavior, does it?
Also, women in this age group also are cooling off, as it were; hormones. Sex isn’t as important to them as it once was. And neither is it with me; hormones. But it still matters. I’m not content to enter into a non-sexual chill just yet.
So, I’m stuck in one sense. I know I’m too old for younger women who still want kids and family, but I’m also too old it seems, at least on first impressions, to women who are also family-driven but have already created their kids. And women who should be in a decent age group for both of us don’t want my old broke ass, either.
Plus, I no longer have the large thick wallet by which I can turn a good-god-grown woman into Ms. Cinderella, damn the personalities.
Oh well. I think I’ll go take a walk along the beach. Seems like a nice sunset shaping up.
Don’t get me wrong, when it’s right it’s terrific. Yumm.
So I’m on these two electronic meeting sites. I’d rather date women my own age, believe it or not. BUT, then again, I’d rather not.
I’m not vain or deluded. I’m a geezer. I know it. I look in the mirror and even though that’s not me, it’s Shreck, I also know it’s me. I get it. So I don’t expect to be banging 20 year olds two at a time.
Often.
And women much younger than me, I just have trouble with some of the trends and pop culture.
But women my age, while they are superior when it comes to confidence and strength and experience, they are mostly wrecked up emotionally. Pardon my rash generalization, but I have some experience on which to base the observation. If it isn’t hormones then it must be mass insanity. I’m serious.
Women my age and older routinely blow through the expressed boundaries I put on my dating expectations, as though age, drinking, smoking don’t matter, they’re exempt from the rules. Or else my boundaries mean squat to them.
Their profiles often bespeak the insecurity and pain of prior relationships left unsettled.
Not only that, they seem to be almost universally prone to hold me responsible for the shit they got from other men. It’s not overt, but done subtly. These women often make rash generalizations like the one I did earlier, placing men into categories (“you’re the kind of man… your kind is why”), I’m not kidding. If we guys did that they’d call us sexist and rightfully so. But that sure doesn’t stop many women 50 and above from engaging in sexist thinking and behavior, does it?
Also, women in this age group also are cooling off, as it were; hormones. Sex isn’t as important to them as it once was. And neither is it with me; hormones. But it still matters. I’m not content to enter into a non-sexual chill just yet.
So, I’m stuck in one sense. I know I’m too old for younger women who still want kids and family, but I’m also too old it seems, at least on first impressions, to women who are also family-driven but have already created their kids. And women who should be in a decent age group for both of us don’t want my old broke ass, either.
Plus, I no longer have the large thick wallet by which I can turn a good-god-grown woman into Ms. Cinderella, damn the personalities.
Oh well. I think I’ll go take a walk along the beach. Seems like a nice sunset shaping up.
Lakeside, seaside
It's a long walk from Laurelhurst Park in Portland to Devil's Lake, in Lincoln City, but here I am. Still in Oregon, still lots of trees, BUT...
There is the small matter of the ocean.
I love the apartment. I'd earlier posted photos of it on my Facebook page, but since then and moving the landlord switched me to a different townhome, one with a much better view of the lake. Still a 2-br loft, but magnificent view.
Like the previous blog, Laurelhurst Park, this will be a diary of sorts, my life along the coast.
There's also another blog, "Picasso Lowbrow," which will detail the art career and its development. Laurelhurst Park, god bless her, will be retired.
There is the small matter of the ocean.
I love the apartment. I'd earlier posted photos of it on my Facebook page, but since then and moving the landlord switched me to a different townhome, one with a much better view of the lake. Still a 2-br loft, but magnificent view.
Like the previous blog, Laurelhurst Park, this will be a diary of sorts, my life along the coast.
There's also another blog, "Picasso Lowbrow," which will detail the art career and its development. Laurelhurst Park, god bless her, will be retired.
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