Thursday, April 29, 2010

Buggy Naked and some Awesome Fly Days on The Outer Banks


Hank,


Awesome kiting here on Hatteras the last two days. Day before yesterday I saw over 80 kites up: 30 at Kite Point, 12-15 at Canadian Hole, 15 at Askins Creek. These are all within sight of each other! Another 20 kiters were scattered in various places.One could argue this is all the same place as you can see all of them at the same time driving north on NC12 from Buxton, where the Hatteras Lighthouse is located. There were another 20 or so kites in twos, threes and fours scattered along the sound side all the way to Rodanthe. Winds had calmed to a nice 20-30 mph, down from their 40-60 the day before. It was sunny in the 70's.

Yesterday, was a bit cooler but the good winds came up in the late morning and stayed till sunset. I watched 12 or 15 kiters south of my house. Half a dozen next door and numerous wind surfers skimming along.

You gotta put Hatteras Island on your list of one of the Ten Places to Fly a Kite. (Not 100, not 1000, but 10.)

I’m still learning Facebook. People tell me it’s awesome. If so why’s it so poorly designed? From a human factors standpoint it leaves a lot to be desired. I know. I know. someone will tell me, “All you got to do is blah-blah-blah.” But if it was obvious, which means well designed, you wouldn’t have to ask or be told by someone the cool little trick.

Two days ago I was asked to become a fan of some group. I couldn’t join because there was no button to become a fan on their page. Then I was told it’s no longer “fan” it’s “likes.” So “likes” is what “fan” used to be. See, how cool is that? Not.

My buddy Corey send me a thing asking me to join “Horny Naked Buggy Chicks” so I do and now the whole world knows I did that - great. Not.

The last item requires that you are in on the super secret thing so that you can be in the “in” crowd and that we on the in-crowd won’t look like the emperor of old that we have no clothes. Well, come to think of it maybe that would be okay in this case.

First, you gotta know there are these things called kite buggies. I explain them to people as high tech big wheels without pedals. You have foot pegs where the pedals would be and you get pulled by a big steerable kite, usually having two or four lines attached to it. And there are these events that buggiers go to usually on dry lakebeds, deserts or beaches where the wind blows and the surface is clear of obstructions and hard enough to roll on and you sit in your kite buggy, fly your kite and sail along. Recently, the world’s speed record in a buggy was set at over 80 mph.

Naturally, someone - no doubt Corey - had the idea that it would be fun to buggy naked and he started a club of sorts and guess what the initiation was? Yeah. So what was the next step? Yeah. So now you know.


Bitchinly,


Bryce

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Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Walking with Jesus


Dear Hank,


I was surprised to hear you were hanging out with Paul. As I’m sure you are aware he is the one appointed by Jesus to build his, Jesus’, church. When asked by Paul what he should build it on Jesus replied build it on me. So I am impressed and honored that I know you. Remind me to kiss the hem of your toga the next time we are together and perhaps I should anoint your feet with oil too? 10W-40, okay?

Paul also received a stigmata after falling off his horse (that’s a mark in his palm like he had been crucified). Maybe, your Paul dropped his Harley and got a muffler burn (Check it out! Check it out!)

At any rate, I am humbled to know you and the company you keep. Try not to get too drunk, unless you are safely in someone’s double-wide that you trust.

As always, I remain, the one, the only,


Bryce Man


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Saturday, April 17, 2010

Dear Hank,

I thought I was having weird dreams and strange visions, I say, I thought because I’ve found out that they are true - the visions and dreams. It’s always the same but slightly different. There’s this man. He’s staring at me. It’s a picture, a photograph of a man staring at me. It’s not really me he’s staring at but the camera that’s taking the picture. However, when you see the picture I think, if ever so briefly, that this man is staring at me.

As I said the pictures vary but are always the same. The man is looking into the camera. His mouth is usually partially open as if he doesn’t really know where he is or what he is doing or, maybe, he’s manipulating the camera taking the picture and it takes the photograph before he’s quite ready to pose, I’m not sure.

The man has, as they say nowadays “facial hair,” I’d call it a mustache with muttonchops, a mustache descending from either side of his mouth and flaring inward toward the cleft of the jaw at the chin line. The fellow has a narrow face and oftentimes he is wearing a hat, an old style straw fedora hat. Something that looks like it came out of the 1940’s when the Danbury Hat Company was going full steam and Cuba was a romantic island getaway. In fact the guy looks like he could have come out of Cuba. The hat, although old in style, looks new. The man is frequently wearing one of the button down the middle shirts with a print on it like you might expect to see in Cuba or one of the Caribbean Islands before Hawaiian shirts became all the rage. You might expect to see this type of shirt on a man in a steel band or playing the vibes at the back of an island jazz band.

It’s kind of haunting to have these images in your mind, as if this man is following you around, trying to communicate something. A ghost from the past? An attempt at telepathic communication that doesn’t quite do it? Why? Why him? Why me? There are so many unanswered questions. Is he following others, or am I the only one? Questions, but no answers.


Yer pal,


Bryce



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Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Van Horn on leaving


Dear Hank,


Now that you have left Van Horn and are safely out of harm’s way we can talk. I didn’t want to do anything that might have hampered your travels. btw, You did not tell me you were staying at The Sands. From everything I’ve heard it’s a pretty classy place, not like that piece of shit, The Captain or El Capitan, down the street. Oh wait, you’re at The Sands in Van Horn, Texas. I was thinking of Las Vegas. Anyway, they tore that dump down a long time ago - dynamite, if I remember rightly, which I wouldn’t bet on. But the Sands Corporation has been building glitzy hotels in rundown, corrupt, dirty cities for over a decade now and I thought they had gotten to Van Horn - but I was wrong. I’m sure it’s a nice place.

Did you eat at the diner with the silver chrome siding? The one that has the booths with red vinyl and the juke box flip selector boxes mounted at each table? Does Irma still work there? She’s kind of skinny, hair in a semi-bun, big glasses with a bead string running from the frames to the back of her neck? Always, chewing gum. Somewhere in age between 53 and 66? Seems to be talking to herself when she’s not talking to you or the guy drinking coffee at the end seat on the counter? Calls you “Hun” or “Sweetie” and asks you what you want, misses half of it the first time you tell her because she’s looking at the traffic, or lack there of, out the window? Then says, “I’m sorry, what was that?” And you repeat it and she reads it back to you and it’s not even close to what you wanted and on the third try she gets it right but when she brings it out later it has the white bread instead of the wheat toast and the eggs are fried not scrambled but you eat it anyway only to hear moments later that she delivered your order to the guy at the end of the counter drinking coffee?

Oh she’s not? Oh, I see. Well, that too bad. I guess the varicose veins she kept talking about and the flat feet she complained about constantly when not talking to everyone else in the place; I guess that finally got to her and she hung up her apron and cardboard tiara pink and white visor.

What’s that you say? You think she’s working at The Captain? No! She said she hated that man and would never work there even if her life depended on it. I didn’t know they used to be married. Well, not married just shacking up, common law wife and all that. Except, he liked cats and she couldn’t stand them. Oh, pussy. Oh, that’s different. I hadn’t realized - young stuff, huh? Something different he said, oh. Didn’t realize, I thought he was talking about kittens. I should have known better. But he left and now someone else is running the Captain Restaurant? Oh, so that’s why she went there? That and it’s closer to her trailer. Makes sense. Five to Seven? Years? Really? So he won’t be coming back for awhile I guess. Well, yes, parole maybe, for good behavior. But from what I heard Irma tell that man couldn’t be good for two minutes let alone two years. Prisons overcrowded? Could happen.

Hey, lots more to tell you about VHT but I understand you’re on the road.


Give my best to Speedie, yer pal,

Bryce


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Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Snakes on a plain


Hank,

There’s a lot to get to and in fact I’m running behind on my posts. They’re kind of piling up like the ice does at the end of Lake Superior. Massive sheets and blocks of the stuff crammed up on the shore by the wind and the waves. But I digress.

You know a few weeks ago I went to have my beard trimmed by Therese and she stopped an looked at me with her mouth open in surprise and said, “Have you been trimming your beard yourself?”

I had to admit that I had and I told her I had gotten a beard trimmer from my father-in-law and I needed to use it before we visited again so yes I had trimmed it myself. Soon she and my wife were inspecting my beard and pulling on the little tuft below the center of my chin. I told them they had fulfilled a long held fantasy of mine to have two women pulling on my thing at the same time. Later, Therese told my wife that she said I could no longer trim my beard when I was drunk. This will drastically cut down on the time that I might have to trim my beard.

But, I digress.

What I wanted to talk to you about was that I was going over to the rental house to water the lawn. Well, that’s not exactly it what it is - is what I saw on the way over to turn on the sprinklers to water the lawn (see, I’m trying to grow grass and it’s a race against time. Can I get grass to grow before the wind blows away all the sand and seed?)

I was on my way over to the rental house and I cut across the yard and started down the neighbor’s driveway. I hadn’t taken but two steps down that driveway when there in the middle of the driveway was a fer de lace snake. Now, you may not be familiar with a fer de lace but they are the deadliest snake known to man (except perhaps 16 others.) No known antidote is known and their venom attacks the nervous system and you’re dead within seconds.

What did I do?

Well, first I cursed myself for not having my camera with me, which I almost always take with me whenever I leave the house. But not this time. Oh no, not this time when there’s something really good to photograph. Then I decided to try and use my cellphone:

Please say or enter a command.

I don’t want command mode.

I’m sorry I didn’t understand. Would you like to download music?

Fuck you. (more button pushing)

I’M SORRY I (Damn, that’s the speaker. More button pushing)

Okay, either the camera is on or the video is on - can’t tell too bright.

Point and shoot - no sound. Well, did it take the picture or not? No way to tell. I’ll shot again. Wait, I can’t. It wants to know if I want to save the picture. Come on push the right button. I think I got it. The snake is getting away! shoot again, save.

Who knows I can’t see a thing in this bright sunlight.

...

On the way back from turning on the sprinklers I was walking down the road and what did I see? Another snake! But this was a big fat evil sucker with diamonds or copper cross stitches or something must be a rattler or a copperhead! Whip on the phone and I got him before he completely disappeared into the grass.

checkout my facebook fan page for the exciting pics!

Rick Kinnaird, author


Editor’s note: It could be a common green snake and milk snake.

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Monday, April 05, 2010

Well there’s sooo much to talk about.

How many stupid blog posts have you seen with that as the opening line?

Don’t answer that, it was redundant or recursive or ... or rhetorical - that’s the word I was looking for.

The thing that I hate about that opening line is that it’s typically followed by a “look at all the neat stuff I’m doing!” Well, as Teddy Roosevelt would say, “Bully, for you!” (asshole - my comment).

Okay so since last making a wickedly funny post (that be the last one there Samson) I’ve got a new toy to show you (It’s shiny and red. can you guess what it is?), new shoes, and great weather to talk about. So what am I doing? I thought you’d never ask! I’m growing grass, or attempting to. The wind came up today so that could blow the sand away in which I’m trying to grow the grass (no, not that kind of grass - lawn grass, turf - got it? good.)

Yesterday was Easter and when we went by Kite Point there were 25 or more kite boarder out tearing it up. The wind was in the 20’s and the big sails were up and so were the wind surfers. Today, the wind really came up, 25-30, and even more action. It’s a pity the American Kitefliers Association says they can’t have a convention here because the conditions aren’t right. Oh well.

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Friday, April 02, 2010

K2 Climb


K2 is known around the world among climbers as one of the toughest mountains in the world to summit. Only 700 feet less than Everest but Everest is a tourist cakewalk in comparison. The northface is a grueling treacherous technically difficult climb challenging one’s endurance, courage, and tenacity. That is why I have choose it as my first mountain to summit.


Editor’s question: Have you summitted K2?

Author’s answer : It depends what you mean by summit.

Editor: I mean have you stood on the top of the mountain with nothing else higher to climb.

Author: Not exactly.

Editor : So you haven’t summited.

Author: Not yet.

Editor : You submitted a picture which you titled “Author summiting K2.”

Author: That’s correct.

Editor : but you haven’t summited.

Author: I was on my way.

Editor : And then.

Author: I got distracted.

Editor : In the picture there is a grab rail behind you.

Author: Yes, the picture was taken at the “scenic overlook for K2.”

Editor : There appears to be an vertical steel beam and store shelves behind you.

Author: Yes, there does appear to be that.

Editor : Why?

Author: Because it’s there.

Editor : At K2?

Author: At the scenic overlook to K2, someone was supposed to do some touchup with photoshop. That obviously didn’t happen.

Editor : Touch up?

Author: Yeah, I told them to take out the guard rails and the store shelves and replace it with blue sky and wispy clouds. I thought that would make it more authentic.

Editor : How far were you from the summit of K2 when that picture was taken?

Author: A few feet.

Editor : Define few.

Author: Well, that’s an interesting question if you take a long view, which I prefer to do, say if you were looking from Saturn you’d be almost on top of K2. So, you see, everything is relative.

Editor : Ten feet? One hundred feet? A thousand?

Author: More like [mumble]

Editor : Excuse me?

Author: More like 27.

Editor : Feet?

Author: Yes, feet. Thousand.

Editor : Thousand?

Author: Yes, 27 thousand, give or take.

Editor : How far were you from base camp?

Author: Hum, I’m not exactly sure. Maybe [mumble].

Editor : What? How far were you from K2 when you took this picture at the “scenic overview” as you call it.

Author: As near as I can tell, and this is very rough but about 6658.377.

Editor : Feet?

Author: Miles.

Editor : That’s half way around the world.

Author: About, yes. I’d say that’s accurate.

Editor : It appears you are standing on a fake rock in a store.

Author: I’m not sure but I think the rocks in R.E.I. were real.

Editor : You were in a sporting goods store?

Author: Yes, didn’t you see the shelves?

Editor : You said you were summiting K2.

Author: I was on my way to summit. I got distracted. Wait til you see my nifty new shoes.

Editor : Egads.




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