Days in the Life of a Pasckie

When The Madman Speaks his Mind...

2010-08-25T16:06:00.000-07:00

INTERVIEWED by Michael James for Trick with a Knife, "magazine-blog on artistic sphere” (April 2010)
http://trickwithaknife.com/?p=510

[1] I know you travel much and perform voraciously-- is this more important/equally important to the books and poems poets publish? Can you 'do more' this way'?

First of all, I grew up—or started writing poetry—around a culture that has a rich, flowing oral tradition. Poetry was performed or delivered right in the village right here right now. Even up to now, graphic novels (“komiks-magasin”), fiesta pageantry, and formulaic/melodramatic movies are the main entertainment escape route of most people in Philippine countrysides…
In the context of publishing, we know it’s a ruthless jungle out there. Getting published these days is tough. But why do desire to get published, anyway? Money, fame? These are acceptable pursuits, but as I grow older, I tend to gravitate back to my roots: Why do I write? I just want to reach out, share my story, make people happy even for few hours at time. I’d rather be in front of people—very intimate, very personal—than have my books rot in a Barnes & Noble shelf. That feeds the ego, but then… should I stop writing/reading just because I am not published? No. I love this (performing) gig and I will do this gig till I die.

[2] You're from the Philippines and write for THE PHILIPPINE NEWS-- do you find your country under represented on the global scene?

I used to write for Philippines News, the oldest Filipino-American newspaper in mainland US, and distributed nationwide and in Canada… I handled the largest bureau, the Southern California bureau where majority of the 4.5 million Filipinos in the US work and live. I did my best… The Philippines should be amply represented (in the US or the global community), could be. But most Filipino publishers in the US don’t see it that way… Before Philippine News, I edited another Fil-Am paper in New York City, and then I came out with my own, The Independent. You must ask me, why am I in a predominantly white community in North Carolina and opted to publish (and mingle) here. Says a lot, indeed. Filipino journalism is back home in the Philippines… that’s where flesh and blood happen, not here. Filipino publishers here have different motives…

[3] How do we integrate? I don't mean hybridization, where we lose culture and homogenize. I mean more like your TRAVELING BONFIRES FOR PEACE project --- how do we unite under choiceful peace without yielding to a totalitarian superpower?

We just’ve to break barriers and bridge bridges. We just have to get out of our comfort zones and hang out with all ethnicities out there. The Traveling Bonfires is trying to serve that quixotix vision-mission… I know it’s hard. But the fun that comes with sharing stuff and things supercede the difficulties. I am rockin’ and I don’t think I’ll ever tire mixing myself up with other cultures… We can’t hybrid or homogenize, but we can hang out and chill. I don’t want to dream like it’s nirvana, I want to dream and enjoy little bits of reality, you know…

[4] There's this statistical idea that I recently encountered in ADBUSTERS, talking about how computerized interaction has increased depression. That your time spent interfacing with this electrical/digital conduit leaves you way more vulnerable to depressive states. And yet this medium is essential for communication with "those unseen". And since the internet, a large aspect of computerized interface, is by nature a literature rich environment. We as artists use it to spread our message... still, there is a large portion of the world without internet access. There is no true question here, but I'd like to hear your reaction to this information.....

Well, moderate. Moderation is the key… I am not addicted to anything so I think I am fine… I will be more depressed if I don’t go online. This is my “office” (I work online to feed myself) and this is where I connect with family (who are thousands of miles away). I can’t give this up… but I can give up a PBR or strawberry cake or sex anytime, man… Besides, I don’t have a (cultural) translation to depression. But I know what sadness is, it’s a human truth. Human truths happen and our emotional/mental chemistry as human beings don’t say, we are “depressed” all our lives.

[5] I remember from our time performing and hanging out, you love to cook and eat. What is your favorite food to make?

Actually, I eat anything… Back in the islands, we eat all of a chicken anatomy. I cook based on what my friends want me to cook. I have been to many cultures and savored food and spices and herbs and all kinds of ingredients—that I am confident I can whip out a cool dish anytime. I can make the “Bizarre Foods” dude a run for his money.

[6] They say 95 percent of Serotonin is in the stomach, so how much do you think hunger informs creativity as a pleasurable act?

I don’t know… When I write or do some creative act, I just do it. I know what hunger is but it didn’t stop me from creating.

[7] Here's a cheesy question, but I'll still ask: Can art save? Do you find TRAVELING BONFIRES changing things through the fact you are taking initiative to spread the message, the concept itself, or is it the art that induces change?

Yes, I do. I believe art liberates and frees the spirit; art instigates and fosters change. Art is powerful. Artists could be a gargantuan force as a movement… The one giant arch-enemy that deters this is profit, big business. Independent art—I mean, those devoid of corporate encroachment—could rise up and be one and fight the giant machine, you know what I’m saying? We artists just have to believe that we can overcome.

[8] Where you're not writing or reading poetry, what types of literature seem to invigorate your mind?

I like work that is written instinctively and randomly. I like literature that doesn’t abide with physical form… because literature and art are human expressions. You don’t scream out of anger, cry out of sorrow, or laugh out of joy, and say, “This is the way to do it properly…”

[9] What about life, period, catches your attention?

Fun, fun is cool… I like to be smiling and laughing as I breathe my last breath of life.

[10] You've pioneered your own litmag/news pub THE WANDERER--- how is this a different way of sending out a message than your personal writing?

The Traveling Bonfires and all the publications and projects that I conceived, I hope—should not reflect the way I am as an individual. There are stuff and things that I want to pursue in life that I find it hard to pursue because my personal demons get in the way… My personal writings or work is me, the private me. But my community projects aren’t necessarily me. I published another paper in Asheville called “Blue Sky Asheville” where minds and thoughts from all sorts of spiritual/religious/cultural mores met. Just like The Bonfires—I like it that there are no doors, no windows, it’s all open… come one, come all.

--Pasckie Pascua
Asheville, North Carolina

FOUR NIGHTS and FOUR DAYS in TRYON

2010-08-16T14:24:00.000-07:00

Literary open stage at Upstairs Artspace, walk to Rogers Park, mung beans soup and a standup comic candle, and rainy nights of warm disquiet…

LEAVING TRYON tonight…
Tryon—a quaint little town 45 miles south of Asheville and almost the same distance to the batcave—is the birthplace of my revered blues sky and soul river diva, Nina Simone. Four nights and four days… punctuated by a “quietly” endearing Friday evening at Upstairs Artspace (“contemporary art gallery and arts education center”) where I read and shared a few poems to the “literary open stage”—on invite from artist-friend Bonnie Joy Bardos.
I will be back here in a week’s time…
I was able to whip out less than 400 words (part of my 2,000 words+/a day goal) in all of four nights/four days, which is pretty sparse—but that’s not the real deal. The deal is, right at this moment, I feel like I could seduce and inspire my harman/kardon Toshiba laptop to churn out 10,000+ words tonight, to the aftermidnight blue, and till the sun wakes up. The hot juices are flowing to a river of sweet wine—I just’ve to seize these moments on paper (or comp screen) before I jump off a waterfall, laughing…
Poetry…
So before I get “personal,” which I should not—I say: “Love good, live good, and eat only good food!” See you later, superhomeys!

--Pasckie The Dude
5:23 PM. 16 Aug 2010
Tryon NC

Hip and hop pseudonyms and 2200+ Facebook superhomeys...

2010-08-02T22:23:00.000-07:00

LAST TIME I filed an entry here was November 8 last year—so that’d mean, it has been nine long months since I last blogged. It’s not that nothing really “significant” took place in my life. How could that be? “Insignificance” is synonymous to innui—the feeling of being bored by something tedious. (That is, however, my personal definition…)
“Significant” developments and conjectures did happen—or happening—in my little life in the last nine months, but majority of these are what most social animals call, “personal.” Yes, despite my seeming illicit romance or addictive concupiscence (heavy word!) with Facebook, I am still very much a private, reclusive dude. Nobody really knows what’s going on within “the womb of my batcave.*1” (Sorry about these specially quoted words and phrases. Check the footnote out for additional explanation.)
My self-imposed “reclusión perpetua*2” dates back to my childhood—but we don’t want to go there right now. My mom was very concerned that I spent too much time wombed in my room, instead of playing marbles or tag with other kids in the `hood—especially that, whenever I slid out of my shell, I was often muttering a line from a Simon&Garfunkel song (“I have my books / And my poetry to protect me; / I am shielded in my armor, / Hiding in my room, safe within my womb”). (Yes, that’s the line where I got one of my most favorite “reclusion” words, “womb”.) So imagine how thankful my mom was when I decided to pursue a journalism career at an early age of 14; at least, she didn’t wait long to find out what professional road I’d opt to tread when I grow older of sorts. That, however, didn’t sit well with my dad—who continually coaxed and admonished me to be another dude other than a writer, maybe a mortician or herbalist or milkman. Why was that? I’d like to discuss that subject but I’d rather not go there right at this juncture—lest I’d be distracted beyond what I’m trying to tackle on this particular blog, okay?
Anyways, before I move on—I’d like to mention in passing that Mark Twain’s essays in regards his abhorrence of war and US foreign policies (such as America’s colonization of the Philippines in late 1800s) made me want to get involved—hence, be part of the breathing world out there (instead of just wallowing in my shell). Of course, Twain’s Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer books were major influences in my life…
So probably one could safely say that the reason why I didn’t mutate into a full-blown hermit was—I pursued journalism in my youth and never buckled out of it—meaning, I had to interact with a specific human dynamic or community ruckus, or something to that effect. At this instance in my life, however, I am not into full-time journalism of any form or kind—following an unfruitful, unsatisfactory two-year sojourn in Southern California where I handled the Los Angeles bureau of an Asian-American newspaper. No love lost there though… I am extremely, silently pleased—although a few thousands poorer—that I am back in my adapted barrio, Asheville.
Now—where was I?

I DO BELIEVE that if J.D. Salinger was my age at this point in time, he is virulently Facebooking right at this aftermidnight minute although he’s still considered a recluse. Irrelevant of all this “privacy lost online” brouhaha, people can still choose not to give out or away their valued privacies in here (learn the apps and commands/options, dude!). On that regard, I doubt it if many people know that Salinger’s J.D. stood for Jerome David… Well, I knew that T.S. was Thomas Stearns (Mr Eliot), and O. was Orrin (Mr Henry)—plus his real name was William Sydney Porter—but I didn’t actually know what J.D. stood for to Mr Salinger until I googled it just a minute ago. (Who knew that I am “George Alfredo,” anyways? Not even my ex-girlfriends knew. Did my friends discover that online? I don’t think so.)
During those years of Salingers and Eliots and Henrys, pseudonyms and aliases were kinda hip. There was also a time—early high school days—when I toyed around with pennames. Since I was so mystified and intrigued by Alice Cooper (aka Vince Furnier), I came up with a female monicker myself: Kathy J. Cruz. I was seriously sending out fiction and poetry, and intermittent book and LP record reviews to a music magazine in Manila under that byline—that, although the editor knew my real identity, we agreed to keep the alias for maybe 3 years. The magazine (which dabbled as a chordbook), “paid” me with free subscriptions and paperbacks and LP records (those that I reviewed). Funny was, I was actually receiving steady stream of fan mails—most, quite expectedly, came from dudes who apparently were hitting up on me, thinking I was a chick. (It was only when I became more serious as a writer—upon “real” employment as a newspaper reporter at age 15—that I chucked the KJC name tag, though I remained an Alice Cooper diehard.)
But—yeah!—pseudonyms were kinda cool and hip during those years. These days though, pennames are more hiphop than hip. Only hiphop/rap gangsta artists use aliases: Li’l Wayne, Jay Z, Ice T., Ice Cube, Ludacris, 50 Cent, Eminem, P. Diddy, Snoop Dogg... I don’t imagine signing my byline as P. Pax.Key or Who.eez.Dizz, anyhow.
So forget pseudonyms. (Pasckie Pascua is my REAL name.)

AGAIN, where was I?
(This is the thing with blogs… nonsensical rambling is allowable and word-count is never an issue. Besides that, it’s absolutely fine to get sidetracked…)
I was saying—there weren’t any hugely significant developments or conjectures that rocked my world in the last nine months or so—since I moved back here in Asheville from Los Angeles late summer last year. I didn’t even engage in a major road trip—apart from a two-week dalliance in New York City and Washington DC in September, and a weekend ride to Virginia in October. That was it…
I had “little” chill-outs in Pigeon Forge, Johnson City, Jonesboro, and Gatlinburg in Tennessee, and in a number of Western North Carolina towns—but that’s it. I don’t call these breathers and getaways as “significant,” in the sense that these were “personal” trips as opposed to my usual Traveling Bonfires road treks. If there’s no Bonfires madness journey, then there’s not much to say, isn’t it?
Yes, most of the goings on around here are “personal,” I mean—I don’t think that my usual blog/ramblings readers will ever care whether I broke my heart again or I finally stuck it out with a lady beyond 3 months. I am always “public” but that doesn’t mean, I make it a habit to wag my Hanes out my front porch on a Monday morning or yell out my current blues and funk to the entire internet universe each time I feel grumpy over a shattered valentine or too broke to score a new Pay Less Converse All-Star imitation. TMI is too-much-info.
I get the kicks sharing with my 2,200+ Facebook Friends whatever I had for dinner or how kewl my latest profile pic or what’d my batcave room looked like on a weekend, but nah—I am not going to fill up a Relationship Status update any time soon. I digress…
I retain the right to my mystery… I like the sound of that word, “mystery.” I like to attach my antennaes and radars elsewhere—and share a rant or two about stuff and things (oh highly-opinionated, grossly judgmental me!) but I am still detached.
I’d like to repeat—most of my relative silence has something to do with the Traveling Bonfires’ comparative inactivity in Asheville in the last few months. We had one “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park” last April 17—and we could’ve carried on in May, June, July… but a whole lot of changes have taken place in downtown’s “management hierarchy” so—well, that’s it. We still have one more BforPeace event (featuring longtime DJ-friends Touch Samadhi), set on Aug 21, but after that—I can’t tell. We had one poetry reading gig at Malaprop’s each month from January till May though…
Despite these, The Bonfires’ relentless zeal goes on unabated in the Philippines—starting Aug 21—under the leadership of my daughter Donna (with very able help from her associate, Lorna Campilan). A set of four major productions are currently in the works. [Check out a companion blog: http://rockjourneysublimemadness.blogspot.com/]

ANYHOW, are you still wondering about my relative inactivity? Okay…
Here in Asheville… all is quiet. [Not to forget, of course—the local Mountain Xpress weekly magazine ran an article about The Bonfires’ return in the mountains. Here is the link: http://www.mountainx.com/ae/2010/041410traveling_bonfires_unpacks_for_pritchard_park/. Before that, me and Marta The Nicer were interviewed by local indie radio impresario Jeff Davis on his ashevillefm.org.]
Otherwise, my days and nights, are pretty much confined in the batcave—struggling over my book/s-writing, reading some bios and stuff, watching Mad Men, dance competitions on cable and Netflix movies, hangin’ out with my superhomeys Cindyrella, Chloe (the babedawg) and Cyd (the koolcat), cooking, gardening/lawnmowing, vacuuming, dusting, washing clothes and dishes, pokin’ around—with occasional trips to Westville Pub to shoot pools over PBRs and buffalo wings, and “joyrides” around WNC mountains…
Oh, by the way—I just spent my half-century birthday here (if that qualifies as “significant” at all). Marta The Nicer O had hers here in January, as well. (Thanks so much to Cindyrella, who owns the house, for all her kindness…)
So that’s it, for now…
“Significant” developments and conjectures did happen, maybe. But I’d rather not ramble and ruminate about that… I don’t think you’d be interested. Check my Facebook, instead—that is, if you are one of my 2,000+ Friends.
Meantime, love good, live good, and eat only good food.

--Pasckie The Dude
3:14 AM. 2 August 2010; 12:42 midnight. 3 August 2010
Candler NC (batcave and beyond)

*1 the womb of my batcave, otherwise known as my neck of the woods in Candler in Western North Carolina.
*2 reclusión perpetua. Spanish, from Latin: reclusio perpetua, meaning "permanent imprisonment,” is a particular kind of sentence of imprisonment in the Philippines, Argentina, and several other countries.

also drafted at Barnes&Noble/Starbucks Cafe, Asheville Mall. 1 Aug 2010.

Lazybone but comfortable moments at my Candler “womb,” red orange and red glory peppers, and lots and lots of Facebook dalliances and Netflix evenings

2009-11-08T21:04:00.000-08:00

LIFE AND LIVING circumnavigate each other like there’s always a new frontier to explore and rediscover… My last two months—or almost five months, all and all—of my return to Asheville has been smothered, caressed, or rained out with essentially unexpected conjectures and surprise blessings that putting them down in words seemed superfluous, if not redundant. Should I put down details? Who cares—other than those who could see more than what lurk in between the lines, right?
I am putting down these words, rather nonchalantly, while the right side of my cheeseball brain watches The Food Channel’s “Iron Chef” challenge, in the lonesome company of Michelob Pale Ales, cold Hendersonville apple slices, and amidst phantom-dark night. I’d like to share some news but there’s nothing much, or nothing much that I am particularly excited to ramble about…

ALMOST UNNOTICED, we had our first Traveling Bonfires show at Firestorm Café in downtown Asheville on a rain-soaked Halloween night. Other than that though—my little life has been confined to/with lazybone but comfortable moments at my new Candler hideaway (otherwise known as the “womb”)—punctuated by intermittent albeit inconsistent writings (my book project, my novel, screenplay jottings, a few love verses, charcoal sketches…) And then, the garden gigs at Holly The Hopper’s earthy, sylvan house in West Asheville, which I really silently, immensely enjoy… the smell of carrots as I dig them up the fresh ground, the red orange and red glory peppers, kale and spinach and stuff—it’s an awesome experience, so far. Too bad that autumn has somehow slowed down my “tiny farmer’s dalliance.”
I hanged out mostly in West Asheville’s West End Bakery (mid-morning breakfasts with my Toshiba laptop) and pool table distractions and occasional PBRs at Westville Pub. Brief hellos/wassups with longtime homeys Virato and Dhiraja, Dale Hoffman and Loretta, and Matt Mulder at (and beyond) Courtyard Gallery’s Jarrett Leone’s Thursday open mic. Hanged out for few days with two sets of visiting friends from New York City and Florida (Chimney Rock, Maggie Valley, Cherokee, Hot Springs), and Texas and Alabama (in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee)…
And, yes—of course, lots of Facebook wanderings and wonderings. And Netflix movies. But that’s it.

IN A NUTSHELL though, all I can say is—my Lake Junaluska respite ended in a disaster that, until now, I am still figuring out what transpired. But valuable lessons, as expected, emanated from that sad experience. It was a really bad July to mid-September “journey” for me—highlighted by an absurd conjecture by the lake.
But after that, it was all good—although on a quiet, peaceful way. Love re-bloomed and continues to blossom, warmth is all over (it always feels so good to know that someone loves so good and accepts it so warmly)… I finally got myself a wonderful pad/studio, overlooking the Blue Ridge mountain greenery. Right now, I feel a little bit bluesy and/or funky, but I know this dark/cold phase is going to pass. (I have book deadlines to deal with, damn!)
That’s all that I could share though. I should try my best to keep some of the private colors and intimate darkness behind my mystery-cocktailed green door, I guess. My “mysteries” have been flashing so bright like transparent neons with mixed-up signals lately? But, I am fine… I am taking multivitamins (Omega-3 Fish Oil Concentrate) but has gone to occasionally smoking Swisher Sweets little cigars—otherwise, it’s all good. I am struggling at working on a very detailed business plan for the return of The Indie, yes—but that’s all that I can say right now.
So take it easy, enjoy the remainder of autumn. Love good, live good, and eat only good food!
--Pasckie
12:04am. 9 Nov 09.
Candler NC.

Greyhound dusts in El Paso...

2009-09-02T05:55:00.000-07:00

... insistent crickets and spellbound swans by Lake Junaluska, viper smogs in Manhattan and 13th Street Washington DC, and finally back to my spirit’s refuelling station in Asheville… stuff&things

[Lake Junaluska, North Carolina. Three weeks or so ago] SUCH AN INTIMATELY sylvan relief… the insistent murmur of crickets or bullfrogs is sweet counterpoint to the dizzying freeway fray and frenetic big-city warblings in Los Angeles. Quiet. Peaceful. Imagine this—Erik Satie’s brooding piano wafts on the background, drowning the otherwise annoying creaking of the ceiling fan. An inexpensive white Bay Bridge wine keeps me company. (Ceiling fan had to be silenced…)
It’s been almost a month since we (me and my bosom buddy Marta The Nicer O) embarked on a two and half days coast-to-coast Greyhound trip from Long Beach to Asheville. It was expectedly a backbreaking jaunt but it was also a memorable, enlightening journey. I noticed that there were a number of soldiers (back from Iraq and Afghanistan) who shared our coach. Why the Greyhound? Didn’t they have enough cash to book a flight back to their families? They’ve already excised untimigating physical strain and emotional/mental energy on their tour of duty—but why the bus? I am sure they’re privileged to some discount, but…
“Not much money, bro. I’d rather save it,” blurts a 22-year old Marine as we queued back to our seats, after a brief layover in Fort Worth. “I got a 2-year old baby and beautiful wife waitin’ in Bristol.”
(Come to think of it, I reckoned—I gotta save my dough, as well—by taking the gold ole’ Greyhound against an Avis rental or U-Haul or plane ride, although I forked close to a thousand bucks for this trip alone. Tough, we also had to deposit most of our stuff & things in a storage in Lakewood CA, although the baggages/luggages/boxes that we brought already cost me $35 each.)
This wasn’t my first time to hop in a Greyhound for a West to East bus trek though, so it was nothing big deal (wait for my book, “My Life as a Greyhound”)—except that we had to deal with temporary hassle, ie three of our luggages/bags were inadvertently shipped to El Paso. I didn’t have my five 18x24 plastic boxes/containers with me when we got to the Tunnel Rd/Asheville terminal, either. But it’s such a comfort to know that Dave, the good-natured Greyhound dispatcher here, still do remember me.
“Don’t worry, George—we’ll get all your stuff. Now, rest first and then I’ll call you when they get here… By the way, will you come out with your newspaper again?”
I just smiled and uttered, “I hope so…” (Yes, I got all the baggages after two or three days. I was so scared that my DVD collection would be lost somewhere… Didn’t care about other things—such as few clothes, CDs or four pairs of shoes—just my DVDs.)
We were so spent that we decided to, first—dump ourselves at the decrepit but workable Blue Ridge Motel right on Tunnel Road, took a shower, checked my emails (wireless feed c/o the next bldg Holiday Inn), and crashed like collapsed log. (Longtime friend Elizabeth Mason picked Marta up as I slept; she’ll be staying up in Elizabeth’s Candler house, as she regroups herself…)
Towards the night, another good friend, Karen H, fetched me—for a 15-minute drive to Lake Junaluska where I’ll be staying as I reassess my options…

“I HOPE SO…” Will the economy improve at all? According to a recent Associated Press report, “Despite signs of an improving economy, the nation’s banks are still struggling—in fact, the pace of bank failures has accelerated.” Some 84 banks have sunk so far this year as falling home prices and worsening unemployment pushed loan defaults upward—the largest number in a year since the early 1990s during a savings and loan crisis.
Meanwhile, what I am sure about—and meticulously calculated before I finally decided to leave Los Angeles (“the most expensive US city to live in,” says Forbes)—is this: I only need less than a $1000 a month to be able to maintain life and living in Asheville. (You don’t agree, right?) In Southern California, that’s not even enough to sustain rent and internet/cable/utilities bills. But that’s not really the issue here…
For some reason, I found it extremely difficult to coexist with Socal’s freeway frenzy. Yes, I’ve always been “a small town dude with a big city attitude” all my life—I can’t really stand urban chaos and concrete jungle “coldness” longer than three weeks at a time (apartment bldgs are claustrophobic crates, people have 2-second tolerance level, nonstop street din freaks me out etc etc etc). My family back home knew that (when I was there) I made it a point to divide time between Manila/Quezon City and Baguio City/Cordillera mountains and La Union beaches… When my kids were growing up, I was traveling by bus to/from Manila/Baguio every weekend, for 8 years, nonstop. In New York, I was either in the city or in my bro Albert’s house in the Jersey shore or upstate NY (Adirondacks, Catskills etc) or Connecticutt (New Haven, mostly) or in Long Island (Nassau/Great Neck).
In LA County, I felt trapped. I didn’t know where to run when I needed to breathe or get away. There wasn’t a place to retreat, to escape. I don’t know West Coast… the closest that I could go (with friends) was in Kingman in Arizona and Tahlequah in Oklahoma, but it was all very “dry.” Or maybe, I am just high-maintenance?
Oh yes, I tried to get into and sustain a relationship—the ultimate refuge? Come on… But I felt (after many hits and misses) that she was, in so many ways, a moving-violation personification of freeway panic and California bushfire. Or, I was supplanted into one (I’m still trying to figure it out)? The 4-month so-called rollercoaster coexistence drained us like “blown-up tires on 1-40 after a burnout, incendiary jam in Las Vegas,” you know what I mean? Couldn’t fix the tires, anymore… we just have to leave them behind, and move on—separate ways.

ASHEVILLE, or Western North Carolina is my spirit’s “refueling station.” I am not yet sure if I’d like to restart a Traveling Bonfires madness in downtown or elsewhere again (like the way it was)—although a January 2010 booking at Malaprop’s is imminent. All I know is I am sure I’ll get Wander out as soon as some financial clarity surfaces in the horizon. I don’t even intend to hang out in downtown, like I used to—I just want to meet up with longtime friends for dinners or conversations over coffee or beers, that’s all. Or meet with new friends—new souls that may want to work with me on some stalled projects.
Trying to find a parallel spirit to work with is always a struggle—actually, it’s my life’s struggle. That explains why there’s only one soul who could tolerate me these days—Marta The Nicer O. Although many misconceptions and misreadings did come in between my almost 8 years friendship with the my buddy that I fondly call Dude—she’s more of a sister to me, a trueblue sister. There’s a transcendent umbilical cord that links us—sometimes it feels deeper and more connected that how it was with my own biological/flesh&blood siblings. (But, of course, I haven’t seen any of my four sisters in years…) I don’t believe that I’d ever have another soul sister like the Dude. But my connection with Marta is very familial—a profound intimacy that is very “home-based,” a true friendship.
I have been looking—honestly, sincerely—for a soul that I can be with, at the same time, work with. It’s a tough mission, I keep on finding out. But, well… as Michael Jackson Jordan told us (complete with a moonwalk jam up the rim: “I’m a lover, not a fighter—so beat it, just do it!”)

WE EVOLVE AND mature from the debris and ruins—or trials, tribulations and triumphs—of the past. I always see a new journey as totally a new page in life. I may see the same faces and places again or meet new faces and stay in new places—but I am sure my level of actions and interactions will not be the same. We coexist and co-habitate based on who we are with at certain point in time, or around whatever circumstances or situations we are in.
I maybe am angry young man or a temperamental middle-aged egghead in the past (or am I still the raging spirit, “the peaceful warrior”?) and then suddenly mutate to a sensient ruminating ascetic with a peaceful smile for each and everyone these days—or vice versa. I am trying my best…
Why is that? It’s because, I believe, saints and devils are made, they evolve—they devolve, they revolve—lives or what we are at a certain moment in time are acquired traits or characteristics. I don’t believe in born assholes or inherent good souls, either.
Hence, being with someone is a struggle. People seem to have a well-prepared checklist of who they want to be with. A vegan, lover of dogs, doesn’t get angry, drinks only local brews, doesn’t shop at Wal-Mart, only used grey-colored condoms, smokes weed, doesn’t complain about make-up clutter in the bathroom, doesn’t flirt, has perfect abs, earns 50k minimum, has good credit, knows carpentry, likes to give oral sex than receiving them, brushes his teeth before to bed, has a triple A card, doesn’t snore, likes Sarah Silverman, takes out the trash, changes flat tires in 2 minutes flat, doesn’t raise his/her voice, eats hummus.
If you don’t have at least 92 percent of those on the list, forget it. Red lights. You must be a serial killer! What’s going on with co-existence, with synergy, with being a better person because he’s with you—with working things out because that’s life? Life is a working project, a beautiful continuum. Isn’t it so boring to meet someone who adheres to one’s checklist? A ready-made lover? What is there to share anymore? What is there to learn from and teach some cool stuff and things, too—when everything is predesigned?
But, of course, it’d be great to start building something—maybe a collaborative screenplay, backyard garden, new dish for two, a road trip somewhere—with someone who shares some in common, right? I’d like to be with someone that I could convince to eat chilled raw oysters with me; in turn, maybe she could teach me what’s up with actually conversing with dogs under a full moon, you know what I mean? I’d like to learn some crazy new stuff and things as I enter my 1,000 years on earth.
At this age, I still am searching, seeking—exploring, navigating, rediscovering… I am sure, I will be at the Lex Av Funfest in downtown this weekend, and at the upcoming Applefest in Hendersonville.

[[INTERMISSION: 9:46pm, Eastern Time, 2nd wk Aug—I was at Asheville Regional Airport, waiting for a flight. FAST FORWARD: The temporary rendezvous at the airport ended Sept 1. At the same time, my new journey restarts 12 noon that day—but without leaving Asheville.
Road drive—Asheville to New York City to Washington DC back to Asheville. Allow me to skip details of the two or three weeks in between California and North Carolina, and sidetrips to New York City and Washington DC. Let me conceal some stuff&things as I fall in the cracks of some miscues and mishaps, and let me carry on.]]

[8:20am. 2 Sept. Wednesday. Hidden Meadow Drive, Candler NC]— LAST SUNDAY, at my kindred downtown bookstore (Malaprops), I met up a globetrotting/backpacking spirit from New Zealand who just purchased a house in North Asheville, who could be a new housemate—but I am still looking, nothing final yet… I have been hangin’ out few hours at a time at Westville Pub (my kindred pub), spending most of my time up in Candler (with Elizabeth M and Marta The Nicer O)—just idlin’ around, you.tubing silly love songs to share with friends on Facebook, watching/consuming my Netflix queue, trading emails with the redheaded mountain muse, it’s all open-ended right now.
Thing is, I feel new and fresh after my “rollercoaster” sojourn up north. That is over and done. These rainy days and Mondays leading to autumn, I just let my poetry take care of the memories of the last, just-concluded “journey.”
Hit me up in case you’d like to hang out some more and talk about light stuff, fun stuff—let’s laugh till we drop. It’s been a long time since I see spiritual clarity in the rain and transcendent intimacy in the mountains. (By the way, I now have a new 828 cellphone number. I promise to take my calls this time…)
Meantime—love good, live good, and eat only good food!

--Pasckie
8:31am. 2 Sept 09.
Hidden Meadow Dr., Candler NC.

BLOGGIN’ AGAIN: Claustrophobic bullet trains, memories of bonfires, pricy Angolan sodas, and a Krispi Kreme news

2009-07-27T01:28:00.000-07:00

WHAT IF there’s actually a “bullet train” that crosses cities and continents by merely thinking about it? Right at this minute, I am here at my little corner at Portfolio Café on 4th Street in Long Beach, moping about humanity’s hopeless state of disconnect. No, I don’t really want a “bullet train”—I just need a ride to Wyoming. What happened, no car in freeway country—how’s that? That’s not gonna work at all… I agree, it’s not gonna work.
So four o’clock pm. Marta The Nicer O should be here in an hour or so—with a car! The Blue Sky God/dess responded to my whinings the other day. Now a car! But is a vehicle—that claustrophobic lump of deadly fumes-spewing steel—the answer to it all?
I digress. Let’s talk about other things.

IT IS INTERESTING how articles are picked up by other papers via the internet. What is this thing called copyrights? Does it really work? A number of my feature/news articles have freely found room in a number of legitimate publications (ie Mindanao Examiner, Cebu Chronicle, GMAnews.com, New America Media, pinoynursing .com, Pinoy Herald, labor blogs and ezines, people’s websites etc etc).
What do I think about this? It’s okay. That’s the way of the world these days. We can all be screaming paranoid roaches about being watched, spied on, or staked out by MIBs online and freak out each time an unwanted spam or Facebook post gets into our inboxes—but what the hell. The internet—like all smartass machinations of life and living—also has good stuff and things to enjoy about.
Like how words are shared so easily.
I just re-encountered and finished reading an “old” web-blog entry from a long-ago friend in Manila who’s now working in Quebec, Canada, Eli Guieb—the husband of another friend that I used to work with almost 20 years ago. It said:
“… In the winter of 2003, I got an email from an artist friend—Pasckie Pascua—who now lives in the US. In the Philippines, he used to organize small film screenings and poetry reading sessions. I would attend these sessions, and bring with me some of my literary pieces, mostly excerpts from a short story in progress. I had learned by then to repudiate my poetry. He is an artist whose passion for truth and love and peace and silence and anonymity has rekindled in me all the lost creative madness of our innocence in a country where dying and death are more the preoccupation than writing and wondering.
“In that email, Pasckie writes:

No more commune, no more bonfires, no more firewood, no more gazing at stars, no more walks down ricefields and cobblestones and seashores, no more butterflies, no more fishes by the river, chirping birds exhorting poetry, no more hearts… I remember the days when we rowdy, crazy, self-righteous poets and musicians and activists gather round and infuriate each other, complement each other after a metaphor that connected, laugh at each other for a spur-of-moment frivolity… we laughed, we cried, we got angry, we cussed, we smiled, we hugged, we embraced, we did the activist handshake – all in a night’s joust – it’s all humanity, naked, bold, raw but sincere… Arguments, discussions, solutions, truce and peace and passion and love and hate connecting on an aftermidnight, all in a few hours… These days, how many have the patience to sit by a roadside and marvel at people passing, jam and create music like it’s the only gift that matters on a weekend… what do we have? ‘Email me, dude!’ ‘Ah! Junk mails, crazy forwarded blah-blah!’ ‘Check my website and MP3s, man!’ ‘We can do IM, it’s faster!’ We unsubscribe from egroups that talk a lot and don’t get ‘to the point.’ We get impatient with websites that can’t get us to the next page on split-second… We refuse to listen to grandparents anymore, and just believe in what analysis say… Countries and governments bomb countries and governments for something like oil that ensures the power grid, fossil fuel, microwaves, computers, CD players, and dizzying fraud of Times Square’s neons… because humanity can’t live under the stars, beyond the road of the ocean anymore… No more ‘humanity’? I feel it’s not lost… The spirit of the bonfire is humanity converging, hearts conversing – look, no words, no hands, ma! – just hearts cutting through barriers, the beam of moonlight giving clarity to a metaphor or a guitar note… We can do the bonfire.”
[—Pasckie Pascua, 22 February 2003]

THAT WAS six years ago. Here I am, still talking about the same old stuff and things. But I digress. I am just feeling kinda downcast these days… Let’s talk about other things then.
Do you know that the most expensive cities in the world are not located in the US of A or Europe? According to an article by Bruce Einhorn that was published by Business Week last June 18th (based on a 2009 cost of living survey of the world’s most expensive cities by global human resources firm ECA International), four out of the five priciest cities on planet earth are in Japan, with Tokyo being the toughest on the wallet. However, Tokyo only ranks second overall. The most expensive city in the survey? Luanda, the capital of Angola.
In Luanda a can of soda averages only $1.30. In Tokyo it costs $1.75 but in Copenhagen it costs an eye-popping $2.12. But in Luanda the price of a quick lunch is the highest in the world, averaging nearly $58. In contrast, a quick lunch in Manhattan, the most expensive city in the U.S., averages a relatively modest $18.61.
Why are these countries so expensive? It has primarily to do with the high costs of shipping, fuel and fluctuating exchange rates. While the global recession may be showing some signs of easing, in Japan, for example, the yen soared against the dollar and other currencies. That slammed profits at Japanese exporters such as Toyota, Sony, and Panasonic. It also drove up the cost of living for expats and tourists alike in Tokyo and other big Japanese cities. Last year Tokyo ranked no. 13 and Kobe, which came in fifth this year, was no. 29.

NOW, ON A different note—something that my cousin Brighan The Gum’s wife Kristi the Krispi might not find amusing. Her favorite donut (or donut company), Krispy Kreme has been fined by the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and the Butler County (Cincinnati) Sheriff’s Office $40,000 for violations of immigration laws.
ICE conducted an I-9 inspection of Krispy Kreme after receiving information from the Butler County Sheriff’s Office which revealed the company had employed dozens of illegal aliens at one of their doughnut factories in Cincinnati. Employers are required to complete and retain a Form I-9 for each individual they hire for employment in the United States. This form requires employers to review and record the individual’s identity document(s) and determine whether the document(s) reasonably appear to be genuine and related to the individual.
Kristi has lost her job at a local Krispi Kreme store in Florence, South Carolina where she lives with Brigham and their two kids, Molly Polly and Rolly Polly. So she’s got reason to be mad. But does it mean that she’s giving up the donut?
Nah. “I hate the owners and managers, not the donut!” she blurted out.

I’D LIKE to write more but I feel unmotivated these days. Yes, despite the funk and the blues, there are still a lot of reasons to cut a smile somewhere somehow—but do you expect me to write all life and living’s details in here? No.
I digress.
But as ever, I’d like to tell you—and inspire you—to live good, love good, and eat only good food!

--Pasckie
1:26am. 27 July 09
Long Beach CA

BLOGGIN’ AFTERMIDNIGHTS: Hohum news coverages, teen-age texting champs, and memories that keep on nagging…

2009-06-18T03:26:00.000-07:00

ALMOST 4AM. I should be in bed. Well, I am not.
Busy working my fingers on these ultra-workaholic laptop keys, like squirrel buckteeth nibbling on a drained Cheez-It box. Outside, it’s mostly humid—70s mostly, lower 50s. My side-window is half-open, careful that my apt building neighbors won’t get roused by my steady stream of Bee Gees classic standards (“Ooh you’re a holiday, such a holiday… It’s something I think’s worthwhile, if the puppet makes you smile, if not then you’re throwing stones, throwing stones—dee dee dee deeee”). KTLA-TV reports that an oil rig fell off I-91 (was that the news three mornings ago?) and a gallon of gasoline is now $3.11.
Uh-huh…
The aftertaste of Folgers “gourmet supreme” coffee off my mouth is like French kiss with a raccoon. The lady newscaster wearily rattles on YouTube: “Celebration turned to near riots in Los Angeles after the Lakers defeated the Orlando Magic to win the NBA finals Sunday. / The Los Angeles Police Department says about 25 people were arrested after some threw rocks and bottles, damaged police cruisers and set several small fires in the streets outside Staples Center.” She (Michael Pereira? Jessica Holmes?) sounded tired… did she Laker-party (that night) on a pitcher of Mojitos and Jose Cuervos till 4am?
Hey, what’s wrong with these Los Lakers Angelenos? We already won, what’s up with you, people?! Instead of all this anarchy, why don’t you dance instead? Shake your hips and behinds to, “I gotta be cool, relax, get hip—get on my tracks. Take a back seat, hitch-hike, and take a long ride on my motor bike until I’m ready, crazy little thing called love!”
Okay, this news is a lot more “sober”: A Sugarcreek Township (Ohio) dude “broke the law when he allegedly harassed several people while wearing a woman’s bathing suit… The man was arrested after police in Sugarcreek township received several complaints of him walking up to women and teenage girls, sporting a green, one-piece swim suit. Police say they had gotten about 20 complaints over a week’s time. Officers say the man never threatened anyone, but was scaring some people.”
Uh-huh.
Last Monday morning, I was at Ralph’s on W 9th street in LA to cover a health department “free nicotine patches and gum giveaways” news conference. Remember, $3.11 a gallon? It took me more time to negotiate I-405/605 freeways than my actual “work-hours” (actually 25 minutes) listening to the health dept dude named Fielding something. I always see this guy in most of my LA news coverages he starts to look like my landlord, really.
Tuesday evening, a Filipino “presidentiable/vice-presidentiable” for 2010 Philippine elections—who’s pretty much my height (a midget)—spoke at a Pasadena gathering. Yes, he spoke—so how do I say that, delivered a speech? We drove for more than an hour, one way—waited almost 3 hours for the guy to come around. Then, he spent about an hour or so shakin’ people’s hands. He even shook my hand when I didn’t even offer it. Ah, politicians! Yes, that’s my coverage.
(Ah, I again missed Alyssandra’s Viento y Agua Tues night open mic!) Last night, I was supposed to be at the Dodgers-Athletics game on Elysian Park because Pacman Pacquiao was to do first pitch… but, I digress—enough of my “day job” rants.
Uh-huh.
Am I boring you? Okay, this one is a “better” news—
Fifteen-year-old Des Moines, Iowa teenager Kate Moore won $50,000 as the world’s texting champ! Her 14,000 texts-per-month habit reaped its own rewards. And it’s just eight months after she got her first cell phone. So she has a message to all of us, fathers and mothers: “Let your kid text during dinner! Let your kid text during school! It pays off! “Your kid could win money and publicity and a phone.”
More from the AP story: “Moore, with a speedy and accurate performance, beat out 20 other finalists from around the country over two days of challenges such as texting blindfolded and texting while maneuvering through a moving obstacle course. In the final showdown, she outtexted 14-year-old Morgan Dynda, of Savannah, Ga. Both girls had to text three lengthy phrases without making any mistakes on the required abbreviations, capitalization or punctuation. Moore squeaked through by a few seconds on the tiebreaking text, getting the best two out of three. As she anxiously waited for confirmation of her win, tears streamed down her face.”
So what do you say about that?
I could’ve covered that event, instead. A predictable NBA finale—that culminated in a car-smashing/stores-looting rampage? A boring Dodgers game that didn’t have a Manny Ramirez (or a Manny Pacquiao)? A violent ice hockey game—so what!? “Non-dramatic” assignments compared with what it was more than two decades ago within/around underbellies of Manila, but then maybe—I’m just getting old. Getting tired? (I can hear my next-door neighbor babbling, “What? Adam Lambert is gay?!? He is NOT!”)

A FRIEND (from San Francisco) made me remember via Facebook, what was my idea of a fun and interesting news assignment. From Vivian Zalvidea, who—uhh, calls me a mentor?
“Pasckie Pascua taught me how to write news, plain and simple. Pasckie held a writing seminar somewhere in Cubao, Quezon City that I attended when I first decided that, yes, maybe I should be a reporter. I never went to journalism school. The basics I learned from Mr. Pascua’s seminar—the who, what, where, when, why, how. The pyramid structure. How to write a compelling lead. How to find drama in a story.
“Mr. Pascua also brought our ragtag band of wannabe writers to a police station and later, a girlie bar. The object of these exercises was to write something interesting. Well, I also learned how to drink and learned that journalists love to drink. And stay up late and have a good time. That all this may (or may not be) part of the job. Everything I learned in the span of a few weeks in Pasckie’s writing seminar, I leveraged into a full-blown career in news. What can I say. Pasckie started me off… From Mr. Pascua, I received the building blocks of my news career that is now on its 20th plus year. I’ve lost count.”
Am I really getting old? I don’t even remember the poems that I wrote maybe 20 years ago. Now this one keeps on nagging my memory. I came across—online—a line from an old poem (written in Tagalog language) inscribed on “Freedom Wall”—or, beside the tomb of a Filipino youth named Sigmund. It said—
“Hindi ko bibilangin ang galos sa aking pusong iniwan ng iyong pagpanaw, bagkus bubuhayin ko ang iyong alaala sa pamamagitan ng maingat na pagtahak sa bakas ng yapak na iyong iniwan...” (Loosely translated, “I will not count the wounds in my heart that your passing have inflicted, instead I will relive your memories as I carefully trace the footsteps that you left…”) This is from an old poem, “Awit sa Musa” (Song for the Muse). I wish I still have a copy of that poem. Where did the kid find it?
When I was living in New York City (and Long Island), I painted a lot—as a way to ease the pain of solitude (aloneness within a crowd). I never shared my work with my friends, only to those that I randomly met on the road or wherever I found myself along this “rock journeys and sublime madnesses.” I was able to sell some but mostly, I just gave them away. My materials, anyways—were mostly given to me, free, by a friend, Ashley Griffin, who worked at Janovic (art material supplier) in the East Village… Now, I miss those works. It’s good that I still keep a cassette/demo recording of songs that I wrote with my friends in Manila.
Now, it’s almost 3am. I am not sleepy yet. I guess, I gotta climb up the rooftop and draft a few lines for a poem. After all, I have a show on July 4th.
Before I leave you, guys and girls—don’t forget to live good, love good, and eat only good food!

—Pasckie
3:20am. 18 June 09.
Temple and 7th, Long Beach, California

BLOGGIN AGAIN: Indisposed vehicles, first amendment pills, terror bankers, and waiting for the coming of Wander

2009-05-24T03:56:00.001-07:00

MEMORIAL DAY weekend… It wasn’t really a good start of “holidays” though, at least for me. First, I don’t really “observe” holidays—I just let it flow, slide pass me, like some ebbtide that’s got to waft away, anyhow. I was at San Onofre Beach yesterday morning but it has nothing to do with the long weekend. Nevertheless, I saw the long queue along Interstate-710 and 405 to San Diego —people really need these family respites and stuff, people need some break.
But it was work day for me and Cathy The G. We sort of observed/hanged out with “paddle surfer” Chuck Badar (“Dr Surfer”) do his wave-rockin’ gig out there (for an article or two), with two other dudes (Patrick and Bongo). It was chilly though by the shore, and since I only had three hours sleep previously… you know, tiring. The “reclusive feel” of the beach also kinda got me—it seemed disturbingly crowded yet it felt secluded, empty.
Meanwhile—the night before, I covered ex-Philippine President Fidel V Ramos’ “jovial gig” at the LA Consulate on Wilshire Av. It felt like an obligatory coverage or maybe I was just bored (nothing to do with the assignment)—it was interesting to see the “old man with a cigar” cracking jokes and stuff again. He’s sort of doing a Carter-like road gig these days (peace, development…)
A nice pho soup dinner with Cathy The G at a 4th street Vietnamese restaurant saved my night… Was I funky within, or it’s just the weather?
A day before that, I was at the Arco/BP (British Petroleum) oil refinery plant in Carson, with another friend Malou M—to hear the company’s PR dude tell us all and sundry that they’re safe and environmentally-cool (how can an oil refinery be “environmentally safe”?)
It was a tiring day, tiring. No need to over-analyze stuff and things, I guess—until I bang the keys again for my week’s deadlines.
So what am I suppose to write or blog about? It’s been few months since I laid down anything about anything—so I don’t know what to write. I consumed almost all of my rest of Saturday trying to get the car fixed at a 7th ave auto shop—with Cathy and Marta The Nicer—which meant, it cost me some more $$$. Bad. Good thing is, the mechanic (Andy The V) had it fixed before people go and spend their long weekend, wherever. I wondered out loud, do people still have money to take a break really?
Thanks to Michael (Cathy’s son) for loaning me the car for the next two months—while my boss and my shrinking Wells Fargo account figure out how to produce more than a thousand $ to remedy my constant-as-prozac nation vehicle predicament.
I digress…
Well, I started watching this little film called, “Incendiary” (Michelle Williams/Ewan McGregor) with Cathy via my Netflix queue but I never got pass the “sex by the couch (simul with a bomb blast) sequence,” or even got to take a bite of Marta’s lasagna (thanks, anyhow).
I crashed.

xxx

GUILTY PLEASURES—such as NBA playoffs and “longanizang hubad” (barenekkid Philippine sausage)—saved an otherwise migraine-dreary, bad rap MC-distracted Southern California weekend. What do I mean? Uhh, I am kind of whining about a Florida-based rap “artist” nicknamed Plies, who roused me from sleep (from my apartment building neighbor’s boombox), few afternoons ago, with lines that went: ”Kill my first rap nigga… all head shots” and “Fuck you till you’re out of breath” and “You ain’t got enough guns, you gonna need some help.” Freedom of speech, First Amendment “privilege,” I guess… well, until kids shoot kids by the dozens, then “serious” talking points ensue, right?
Let’s review: The First Amendment to the United States Constitution is the part of the United States Bill of Rights that expressly prohibits the United States Congress from making laws “respecting an establishment of religion” or that prohibit the free exercise of religion, infringe the freedom of speech, infringe the freedom of the press, limit the right to peaceably assemble, or limit the right to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
America, indeed, is a country of contradictions… (A Facebook buddy squirms about Socal’s second quake in two/three days yesterday… “quakes” are going to eat us alive! Nah, acute ulcers on Prozac nights ushered by the almost-12 percent unemployment rate will, actually.)

xxx

I ACTUALLY started working on (or laboring over) this blog almost two months ago, I think—at Viento y Agua on 4th street in Long Beach, obviously my café of choice these days. Probably, I’m averaging 4,000 words a week—racking up my weekly (newsfeature) deadlines, excluding intermittent emails—but it has been a quiet struggle putting down “blog/journal” words lately. As the usual case since I moved to freeway country more than a year ago, my distraction level has gone past the maximum level… stuff and things crisscross my beaten paths like ricocheting bullets or cockeyed meteorites. But then, I am still here.
I need to get this blog done before I forget it again. It’s a kind of ritual that I gotta do, no matter how blank my brain-motors have gone in the past few weeks. Tomorrow night, I’ll be back to my usual Sunday/Monday deadline grind again, so—yes, I gotta do this now.
But let me talk about my bank. I love talking about banks.
Last week, my bank told me that there’s some complications in my account—like, some hack stole $165 off my imporishment money. Big deal. They had to take that off my money until they are able to figure things out… Few hours ago, I tried to get $10 off my account but it won’t let me. Then I tried in another ATM, it did give me $20 ($10 isn’t gonna be okay), plus a $2 for that 10-second fingerwork.
Ah!
These days, the obligatory bad dudes like neo-Nazis, Third World dictators, religious zealots and global terrorists have been beaten up the marquee by bank CEOs who hold a firm grip to their super-bonuses, stock options, and corporate perks. Do you believe that?
During the day, Wells Fargos and Flints were fine with simply foreclosing on the elderly’s mortgage. Wearing Brooks Bros suits, silk ties and the unruffled expressions of the professionally soulless, are out to suck you dry till you got nothing but a Mission-scrounged Campbell soup can.
Few months ago, I was at a New America Media (NAM) and California Forward meeting in regards California’s stalled budget and why the hell laid off county souls need to vote on May 19—that’s on Tuesday—in regards this Proposition this and that? They freakin’ just lost their jobs. Stimulus package, where is it? Federal dollars at the mailbox when the truth is legislators are batting for a $1.8-billion personal income tax increase and almost $1 billion in reduced services? Besides that, California still tops in all kinds of taxes (ie sales tax that are forked by small businesses and starving consumers).
Almost all of the Props whatever lost, anyways—so what is there to talk about? I don’t know. But I just gotta work and file a story, you know?
At least, I still hold on to some wisdom somewhere. The past few weeks, I wrote page one stories about a preacher dude in Las Vegas who racked away thousands scamming the elderly via “mortgage rescue.” This guy, who sermons at a local Church, actually offered me a job almost two years ago to edit a Caesar’s Palace-distributed magazine that peddles hookers (prostitution is “legal” in Sin City , remember?) What about this prison guard who funneled huge dough to Asian banks purportedly saying he’s a business buddy of Warren Buffett? Funny thing is, he misspelled “Buffett” as “Buffet” in his business (“hedge fund”) brochures and still got away with it… ha!
Life, indeed
Right at this second, I am listening to Lucinda Williams—but this lady always drives me to gulp some more Jose Cuervo, so not now, m’dear. I gotta work.
Well, all I can say is—the Traveling Bonfires—despite my intermittent incomprehensibleness (is that a word?) and obliqueness, is still fine. Next show is June 6. And the first issue (or “resurrection” issue) of Wander—“an open mag that moves”—will be out on July 15. We got great new Long Beach staff (joining me and MTNO, you know who)—Cathy Gruman, Rachael Mills, and Gina Cifonelli (with Grace de Jesus Sievert and Federico Sievert, as lead artists/art director, in Manila ).
It’s 3:46am as I conclude this rambling. Suddenly, I get seasick… but, never mind—just live good, love good, and eat only good food!

—Pasckie
Temple and 4th, Long Beach CA
24 May 09

BLOGGIN’ AGAIN: Confused utility bills, March Madness chats, awesome Nomads guest, deep-fried maggots, and boxing talk by way of Lorca

2009-03-22T15:12:00.001-07:00

THERE ARE times when volatile substances like funk and blues get in the way of life and love’s remaining primitive sublimity. So what else is new, huh? Monthly electric bills in my South Bay neck of the woods—serviced by utility giant Southern California Edison—will increase between $2 and $4 because of a rate hike approved two weekends ago by the California Public Utilities Commission. (ASIDE: I can’t work on that story because an ad contract may be coming? I digress…)
What should I do now, cut my power usage? Like, no more (NCAA) March Madness or NBA playoffs, “King of the Hill”/”Jeopardy!”—and you mean, no more Facebooks? Argh! No! How can I ever do that when these distractions are exactly life’s “blurrers” (my word) that help me chuck or contain stress? At least, I still have a job that keeps my Time/Warner 3-in-1 plan flowing… otherwise, I’d just probably take the cue from this dude from Taiwan .
(Courtesy of Reuters): A jobless Taiwan man released from prison two years ago asked police to send him back so he could eat, police and local media said on Tuesday, a grim sign of hard economic times on the island… When police found the 45-year-old convicted arsonist lying on a street in a popular Taipei shopping district, he requested a return to life behind bars, nostalgic for the 10 years he had already served, the China Post newspaper reported.
Hmmmm, 10 years in America . Sometimes, I feel like I am imprisoned in my own “neverending winter.” America is like a drug, an alcohol, cable TV, or Krispi Kreme. The hook sticks in like needle to the vein. Even “worship” is synthetic, kinda toxic—we “reinvent” religion to fit our hedonist/megalomaniac whims and say, “LOVE and PEACE!”
I still feel sad when some of those who proclaim unswerving love to God, say—”I woke up this morning and felt God’s gift wafting on my face, read The Bible… for a decision that I had to make. Should I buy a Blackberry?” in favor of, “Did God say that I should send medicine money to poor people back home when all they do is ask for my money, like—I am picking dollars up an oak tree? Enough!”
Good grief, the Blackberry won. Wanna text or leave cellphone blurbs to God—a more accessible, faster path to divinity?
I’d rather be a “sinner.”
I remember what my Cherokee friend, John Greene Vagrant Wind, told me years ago: “God resides in your spirit. I don’t need to argue who your God is. But that spirit of God lives in people’s hearts. You see it in their eyes. Once you accept that, you will know when to heed your humanity. No more words.”
I am still trying…
Somehow, I see that spirit when I read a poem or two a-front 3 or 300 spirits in a café or a hall—when people listen, they open their hearts, they connect, we link up. I can’t mistake it—the joy inside is louder than 15 Stratocasters evoking hallelujahs or 200 stanzas churning out “Praise the Lord” codas.
But how do we draw unmitigated ego from selfless pleasure?
How do we say that within life and living’s material/physical grind—no matter how we squeeze sanity and sweetness from stupor and apathy—we are happy? I guess, we are just happy when we are…

MEANWHILE, I’d like to take it easy—and enjoy whatever’s laid out in front of me. Don’t worry, be happy.
Last night, at the Nomads’ Borders’ gig—this young lady/singer-songwriter (one of our three guests) Chelsey Sanchez swept me. She has shining promise… a little raw but you can’t mistake the fire and the talent. Small gifts come on random, indeed. Check her out again in future Nomads (of 4th Street ) shows.
I wasn’t really happy about how I performed (vibe wasn’t in sync) but after my “set,” Chelsey closed the show—and the day ended sweet. These make us happy. Spontaneous pleasures that warm the spirit…
Remember the story of famous violinist Joshua Bell who played incognito at a Washington DC metro station, just like any other starving busker… and earned a measly $32 on tips (he sells concert tix at $100 a pop)? The “phantom” gig didn’t attract the attention of adults—kids did take notice though. Life’s lesson that glares at us grownups like a cat’s blank stare. We take heed because we are all hooked to life’s facades: Play up maestro Bell ’s gig as a grand concerto with mortal bodies shaking jewelries, then voila! We are there giving away $100…
At this moment, it’s 44—61 F in my Lakewood/Long Beach ‘hood. Beautiful day… Chilled coronas and steamed crabs on 7-up and lemons.
I’d love it if Blake Griffin’s ( Oklahoma ) Sooners and Tyler Hansbrough’s Tar Heels ( North Carolina ) make it past Sweet 16. Reward these dudes some sweetness for sheer effort. Talk about magnificent effort, I prefer—hands down Ron Artest than Tracy McGrady—to effectively back up Rockets’ big man Yao Ming.
Other simple joys. Do you know that (due to recession, probably) you can actually score ( Denver ) Nuggets or ( Detroit ) Pistons tickets for 99 cents? Check out StubHub.com In Utah , a family of four could attend a Jazz game for less than $20, and so and so forth. So why fork more dough on a hockey game and subject your kids to barbaric mayhem of “puckers” (my word) beating each other up to bloody mess?
Okay. In case you’d like to stretch the sweetly intriguing adventures of life a bit further (and probably be happy)—check out the Philippine government’s tourism’s homeward tour this summer. Part of the package is immersion to Manila ’s “bizarre” (to borrow a cable TV word) foods. Python stew, deep-fried maggots, monkey casseroles—anyone?
Hmm, at least it could be a lot better than an afternoon at McDonald’s. You are up for 1,435 number of calories in a Big Mac meal, which includes a burger, fries and soda. Now, if you venture in the Pacific isles, you’d later on exclaim: “Hah! I just had a dinner of maggots as huge as a chicken nugget and a KFC bucket-ful of snails—top that, baby!”

AGAIN, ladies and gentlemen—I digress. Change subject.
Did you watch how Ukrainian heavyweight Vitali Klitschko punished Juan Carlos Gomez of Cuba to bloody mess Saturday night in Stuttgart ? The dude refuses to fight his bro Wladimir (holder of other division’s heavyweight crown) because he can’t hurt his flesh and blood. Sure is. But let’s torture others, right?
Am I oblique…
From my poem, “At Five in the Afternoon” (segued from Federico Garcia Lorca’s “Llanto por Ignacio Sánchez Mejías”):

… So the winner was proclaimed—
exalting smiles sneaked out
of his disfigured face,
he lumbered toward the beaten one
and wrapped their arms around
and called each other—brothers;
at this time, gods walked out
of the coliseum, unnoticed
unannounced; flawless white skins
shining amongst the bruises
of the battered battleground
laughing like Olympus titans
on Brooks Brothers and soiled sandals
who declared victory without raising
a hand or moving a foot—
at ten past five in the afternoon.

Why am I so freakin’ dramatic? When, I will again be in the Sin City ’s MGM Grand to cover Manny Pacquiao’s bout with British Ricky Hatton on May 2? That’s the way it is, I guess. The war is still raging in Iraq and NHL players are still beating each other up to bloody smithereens at the ice rink. But change is gonna come? Again, another poem from yours truly.

CHANGE IS GONNA COME

Change is gonna come.
Short people will be tall people,
midgets will dunk basketballs
and be lords of the hallowed halls
giants will be walking around on stilts
and shake hands with skyscraper gods
that they built, the weak will be strong
the helpless will keep their humble abodes
and the strong will be scrounging
for warmth along uneasy roads.

Change is gonna come.
Starving urchins in downtown Detroit
will get bail-outs, while glutton
CEOs will be kicked out
of their penthouses and limos,
Joes and Janes will be keeping their dollars
under pillows and couches
and Wells Fargos
will be borrowing gasoline money
from street hobos.

Change is gonna come.
Blacks will be whites, browns will be yellows
and red will assume any color it desires
soldiers will be wielding Stratocasters
and acoustic guitars, singing Woody Guthrie’s
songs inside subway cars
4th Street singers and poets
will be holding open mics
at the Oval Office, baseball players
will be chowing down Krispi Kremes
and hockey players will be lovers
than fighters, Wal-Marts will close at 4pm
White House will be called Colored House
like a Benetton shirt and the US president
will be shooting basketballs with kids
at a Rio de Janeiro street
and wars will be muted by
the persistent sound of peace
in people’s hearts.

Change is gonna come.
Short people will be tall people,
the sad will be happy
nights will be days
winters will be hot
and summers will be cold
and life is going to be alright!

Yes, change is gonna come and things will be alright. Meantime, amigos y amigas—live good, love good, and eat only good food!

—Pasckie
2:47pm. Sunday, 22 march 09.
South Bay, California time.
[In the peaceful company of iced tea, shrimp cocktails, NBA TV, and Alexandra Burke’s version of “Hallelujah”]

BLOGGIN BAILOUTS: $25 billion to Wells Fargo—zero to the people, Bill Gates’ “awesome” joke, Mark Cuban’s cool gig, and my 99 Cents Store stories

2009-02-20T02:22:00.000-08:00

CALIFORNIA lawmakers failed to reach an agreement on budget. So a planned layoff of up to 20,000 California workers that has been called off last week as lawmakers continued to debate budget issues by week’s end may push through, after all.
Then the news heaved and ebbed—now, the people will have to vote over it, I think come middle of May? Okay, I got bored following the news—so after I filed my last news update two nights ago, I sunk myself in my “cave-room” and watched my day’s supply of Redbox ($1) and Netflix movies ($23+ for unlimited supply each month).
The sunny state is facing a nearly $42-billion deficit projected by the middle of next year, and more workers are expected to get laid off within the month—but what should I do? Take it easy, of course—and enjoy my 99 Cents Store and Food4Less visitations (I just got a cool rock ‘n roll poetry collection at $1 and filled up two boxes of “10 for $10” groceries for relatives back home).
It such a quiet delight within to send love to family and kin in Manila each month via these stuff and things. Then, I pacify myself with PBRs, grilled cherry clams, and sappy but entertaining movies (like “Swing Vote” and my old “Gods Must Be Crazy”/”Three Stooges” collection, for example). Last night, I saw a movie adaptation (by Fernando Meirelles, “The Constant Gardener,” “City of God”) of Nobel laureate Jose Saramago’s novel, “Blindness” (Ensaio sobre a Cegueira).
I try not to be such a smartass critic whenever I watch a movie because that’s the only way to enjoy movies, you know.

BACK TO REALITY. State Senator Alan Lowenthal, a Democrat from Long Beach, calls this latest California “budget deficit” conjecture “a catastrophe of unbelievable proportions.” Yes, desperate fathers killing their wives and kids—and themselves—because, after losing their jobs, they don’t see light of hope anymore. State employees reporting for work with no pay in re California’s furlough program (says a DMV staff, “I have to show my boss that I deserve not to be paid off”).
But how do politicians solve the problem? THIS—financial giant Wells Fargo got $25 billion in bailout (or taxpayers’) money one day, the next day it bought Wachovia for $12 billion.
Blatantly immoral, inhuman.

BUT THINGS should be okay, somehow. My monthly readings (with co-Nomad of 4th Street poet buddy, Dan Romo) at Viento y Agua Café & Gallery and Borders Bookstore in Long Beach make me feel like life is not that bad, after all. We even have our own merchandise now—cool t-shirts and buttons, and we are seriously considering self-publishing our books and signing up for spring/summer poetry conventions and track down agents!
In fact, I am hiring an editor and artist (via Craigslist postings) to help me work/finalize my poetry books, “Red is the Color of my Night” and “Velvet Rainbow Down,” plus a prose book, “My Life as a Greyhound.” I am also starting a book—a profile of a lady who shed more than 100lbs (in few months) through religious faith and physical discipline (no help from Jenny Craig, Pilates, or Weightwatchers). She’s been featured in LA Times, Running, Shape etc.
I also decided to cut my LA gigs/readings/bookings, for now—to just concentrate on the monthly Nomads gigs in Long Beach, my current South Bay ‘hood.

I DIDN’T know that Bill Gates has a dark sense of humor that I could relate to. The Microsoft billionaire made headlines a few weeks ago when he released a cloud of mosquitoes at a technology conference. C’mon, the dude was just pointing out the dangers of malaria for the world’s poor. “Malaria is spread by mosquitoes. I brought some here,” he said. “There is no reason only poor people should be infected.” (Fortunately for the terrified attendees, the mosquitoes were malaria-free.)
I remember how I infuriated an ex-GF when I ignored her complaints about being so haggard, and needs to see a specialist in New York City, because she was bitten by a thicke. I shrugged my skinny shoulders and quipped, “I was bitten by an alligator but I just stamped a band-aid on my wound, that’s all. I’m still alive, honey!”
Last Wednesday, I read a poem at Portfolio Café in Long Beach, with a line that goes, “No, I don’t eat snakes or worms / And certainly I don’t eat dogs / except when it’s a Super Bowl weekend.”
Everybody just stared, and then some laughed.
I am just kidding, okay?
I also didn’t realize that Mark Cuban (yup, another billionaire—the acerbic owner of Dallas Mavericks) has some cool projects himself. I just watched a Brian de Palma movie, entitled “Redacted,” about a documented rape/murder of a 15-year girl and murder of her family in Samarra, Iraq by US Marines. Mr Cuban was the executive director. (But nah, I am still a Houston Rockets fan—not unless Yao Ming and Luis Scola transfer to the Mavs.)
Still in regards movies. I just saw this bad comedy, “Ball’s Out” (a forever not funny Seann William Scott)—one of the stupidest, most illiterate movies that I’ve ever seen. Worse than all the “American Pies.”
A character in the movie was supposed to be a Filipino exchange student. The dude was flown to Nebraska on a chopper and was being phonetically tutored (by Mr Scott’s Gary, the tennis coach) how to speak English. Actually, he went to the US on a “pingpong” scholarship.
First, the writer thought that a Filipino is a refugee (eg Cambodians fleeing Khmer Rouge) that has to be flown by Sikorskys to the U S of A, lest he gets kidnapped by inbred roosters from Murphy, North Carolina.
Second, the movie actually thinks Filipinos don’t know an English word. Uhh, it’s the most common language of a people who could speak three more languages and dozens of dialects. Third, Filipinos don’t play pingpong.
This is an example of cultural ignorance when morons stereotype Asians as one tribe of illiterate jungle urchins. The writers: Andy Stock and Rick Stempson. They should just sell iguana burgers at Swap Meet, or fed to Mr Gates’ mosquitoes!

REFUGE in the rain.
There was rain last night (or two nights ago) but they trickled on my roof only for few minutes at a time—although the TV news warned of storm coming. I miss the monsoon rain that fall for hours, even days, weeks—and the elusive sun that reappears afterwards. The waiting was good as I enjoyed what was around me. I wish life was like that again.
I am, at this very moment, listening to Bruce Springsteen’s new CD, “Waiting for a Dream.” In “Tomorrow Never Comes,” he rambles, “He who waits for the day’s riches will be lost in the whispering tide, where the river flows, tomorrow never knows.”
More than ten years ago, I finally decided to leave my country for good—hoping that “the dream” only happens in America. That was the germ that moved my novel (that hasn’t really taken off the ground), “Waiting for Winter.” Winter snow was immaculate, pure, encompassing—like a dream. But up to now, I am still working on a dream. Many times I feel like I am lost “in the whispering tide where the river flows.” Yes, tomorrow never knows. I don’t want to live the rest of my life waiting for “winter.”
I’d rather enjoy the rain.
Meantime, I gotta go. So—live good, love good, and eat only good food!

—Pasckie
Lakewood CA
20 Feb 2009. 2:18am
Friday, while watching Headline News

Winter colds, presidential inaugurals, and missing love so much

2009-01-19T07:56:00.000-08:00

ALMOST 8AM, but it’s kinda dark. I’m finishing off on an article on dental care to wind off my week’s deadline. I will be heading to San Francisco for a company meeting. Good, I have reason/s to skip the new president Barack Obama’s historic inaugural address in DC. Don’t get me wrong though—I like our new President, he’s still the coolest Chief Executive to be occupying White House. He’s a breezy guy one can easily play basketball with or chat about household stuff and things, from old Allman Brothers band’s “Statesboro Blues” to the best beer there is in the world.
But I am always VERY lazy about listening to political speeches—state of the union, state of the world, victory address, and stuff. Years ago, I used to write speeches for prominent Filipino politicians but I never really listened to them when they got delivered.
I am still nursing a case of colds. Not sure if it’s the unpredictably eccentric California weather or it’s just the apt season to be indisposed. A week ago, it was freezing but yesterday, it was like 87 temp—like summer humid. Got that—87 in the South Bay, but 40 below zero somewhere in the Midwest.
Crazy, crazy days—these days. I wish I could just hop in a Greyhound (like years ago) and head somewhere, pitch a tent, build a bonfire, and keep on writing—until I finish my novel, or rehash all my poems and prose. Paint, paint like before. I feel so incomplete, so dislocated, broken into pieces of wayward energies.
There is a kind of emptiness, hallowness, uninspired void that nag like a cat’s blank stare.
Even the news that flash before me seemed excruciatingly surreal than pathetically comical. Did I lose the urge to laugh at life’s misgivings?
I couldn’t even finish twelve poems that I drafted in so many occasions… They never gone past third line or 3rd stanza, that’s it. My next show with the Nomads is on the 22nd (Café Muse in Hollywood) but am I going to read the same stuff? I am getting bored of my own poetry.

A DUDE who walked in a convenience store, pulled out a gun and emptied the cash register—but before he scooted out, he scooped up a bagful of cream-cheese popcorns. And then he nonchalantly back to his crib—all along popcorn morsels came a-dropping by his trail. So he was caught by way of the “popcorn trail”—for theft and possession of stolen merchandise.
Was the dude serious? Or he simply got so bored while watching “The Flight of the Conchords” and decided to go get some freebie popcorns, and hold up a store as a side gig? Was he one of the two million Americans who lost their jobs in 2008?
He seemed so disconnected. As in this other dude who goes by the name of Joe Francis (“Girls Gone Wild”). With Larry “Hustler” Flynt, this Francis personage wants $5 billion bailout money from the federal government because his porn business is not doing good. So out of there, right?

STRIDE IN A coffeeshop—what do you see? Human heads planted on laptops. Are they crafting some masterpiece—or they’re just surfing YouTube for some funny respites for the day? But they seem so serious… Have you heard of this teenage girl who ran up an almost $2000 month’s cellphone bill due to texting? The hook is insane. We are doing things not because we “doing it.” It’s because of the HOOK. We’re hooked into something that’s already deeply ingrained in our system.
How about this? Celebrity violinist Joshua Bell played incognito at a Washington DC metro station, just like any other starving busker… and earned $32 on tips. Two days before that “gig,” people paid seats at an average of $100 a pop on his Boston concert. His violin, by the way, is worth $3.5 million. Who stopped to listen to his beautiful music (mostly Bach)? Kids. Kids were seen pissing off their parents so they could listen more. Only six people stopped actually, and 20 tossed coins. That “gig” was an experiment by the Washington Post about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?
No, we don’t. We spend huge money on certain artists because they are promoted and publicized as such. But we don’t actually know what is good music—right there on the streets.
Disconnected humanity.

MANY TIMES, I miss the “poverty” of life and living.
I miss the endless monsoon rains. The kilometers and kilometers of walking from my house to the marketplace or the Sunday church. The toxic air that gets bottled up in beat-up commuter buses. The noise on the streets, the rooster’s crow at dawn, the giggling of kids while frolicking under summer storms, even the howling of drunken men by the neighborhood sidestreet.
There’s something in “affluence” that hits you like a lead arrow. It numbs, it stays in there embedded. America is so “comfortable” and accessible yet so rife in magnificent unease.
Even the sound of “love” seemed distant. We don’t know where and how to find it anymore—because the pragmatism and practicality of a physical/material life and living come first. It is NOT possible to fall in love if you lose your job or your car conked out or you don’t have email access or no cellphone. These are all prerequisites to human emotion. Nobody sympathizes anymore—like a flowing afternoon by a railway track, a saunter at a grass under starry skies at night, a Greyhound ride to nowhere.

ONE THING that I miss. I miss being in love. (Yup, I am not being shy about admitting it—at least, I am not announcing it at a Viento open mic.) I miss being corny, I miss waiting for a weekend so I could share dinner with a sweetheart. I miss taking on a short trip out of town with her, or watching a concert downtown. I miss when a day is over so I can share the news, good or bad, with her. I miss writing love poems. I miss saying, “I love you” and really feel it—like I am 17 years old again. I even miss hurting because of a silly fight, and I miss missing someone. I miss the pains and pleasures of being in love.
I miss my family. I miss my childhood friends. I miss Asheville, Manila, and Baguio City. I miss hanging out for no reason at all, just being lazy, and cracking jokes after jokes—laughing until our bellies ached. I miss the way it was when each day is another story—no matter how hard it was. A day over is a day won.
I miss wondering if the rains going to be hard and what to do to get all errands accomplished. These days, solutions seem to come with a Target box on rebate. I miss watching basketball games at a town plaza and heckling like crazy. I miss watching bashful girls lined up by the benches with their long legs and healthy hips. I miss the first hello and no goodbyes.
I just miss a lot… I miss what it was 20 years ago.
These days, all I do is complain of things that could have been more convenient if… nurture doubts that things handed out free are not real, or cuddle fears that the worst is yet to come.
Ah, isn’t because I am just under the weather? Depressed? I don’t know. I am being sappy. But whatever happens—always try to live good, love good, and eat only good food.
Toksa Ake!
--Pasckie
7:52 AM. 19 January 2009.
Lakewood CA

HAPPY NEW YEAR! The war is not over yet, and I am still poor and whining, loveless and musing

2009-01-01T23:36:00.000-08:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR!
It’s 10:25 pm, PST, Wednesday, December 31, 2008—as I write this with a heavy heart.
Right at this moment, in between drafting a few news-feature stories, I am watching a TruTV show with B/C-celebrities like Gary Busey, Leif Garrett, Danny Bonaduce and Tonya Harding commenting to some stupid, dumbass shenanigans—in between shots of Smirnoff (to keep myself warm from Lakewood CA’s 48 temp), iced tea chasing it down.
And I am not even laughing… Um, these two drunken college buddies got ticketed for jaywalking at a secluded New Hampshire street, at 2am—seen on “Speeders.” The less-smashed one said, “I am the designated walker tonight!” What about these Thai dudes who’re playing around with Crocodiles—ushering their arms in those deadly mouths—at a community festival? What’s up with these guys? Not funny.
Okay.
I don’t really feel like it’s a new year… You see, the war is not yet over—so, no exclamatory mark of elation. “Happy” (in Happy New Year) is wishful thinking. We do this each year at the end of the year. Hopes. Changes. Dreams. Plans. More often than not, we end up “surviving,” eking out a living, barely scraping through the day—and then, we do it again.
We are back in the streets, protesting the same protest, year after year.
Do you know that the top three Internet searches in 2008 are: Britney Spears, professional wrestling, and Barack Obama? Glitterdom idiocy and caricatured violence as the foremost, utmost concerns of people last year? And what made poor, pitiful Filipinos happy last year? Boxing. When the Pacman beat up the Golden Boy to a pulp, everybody applauded.
Happy.
Obama is a good choice, that should make us happy. But then, we are still awaiting one sign of positive vibe from our incoming president. So far, none yet. When? The next three months, after the January proclamation maybe? The sunny state’s Terminator Gov Arnie isn’t talking about new jobs—instead, he’s still pretty much intent on making California a utopian environmental idyll for super-healthy people. Forget jobs, roofs over yer heads, or food on the table. Uh, probably, there’s a place for malnourished bodies cramped inside their beat-up sedans?
Ah!
What I read, so far: More than 300 of the 1,125 billionaires tallied on Forbes’ annual list last March have since lost at least $1 billion; several dozen lost more than $5 billion. So what? CEOs are still begging for bailout billions; why can’t souls on foreclosures, slashed pay, and near-starvation all mass outside and scream, “We need bailout!”
The wealthy cries rescue, while the poor still cling to their earth-bound honesty. You read about a mother who found a box of cookies at a store, stacked with $10,000, and then returned it? The supposed owner of the stash took it back, but never rewarded the beautiful soul who found her “life’s savings” a cent. She’s no different from a greedy Chief Executive Officer of some gargantuan automaker, right?
Tough.
The evil sting of the laid off, dumped man who took 13 lives (including his own) in Covina cut through the core like a lingering, nagging nightmare. But it’s real—not a bad dream. The Devil dressed in Santa Claus, with Death-Red all over.
New year’s resolutions? Wake up before 7am (how could that be, when I’m still awake at 7am, mostly), lose weight (there’s nothing to lose except my mind), eat healthy (like what Schwarzeg says? $26 for a hummus dinner?), balance checkbooks (balance what?), quit smoking (I don’t smoke), earn more money (what?!), be friendlier (with whom?), adapt a dog (I should be adapted instead).
Boring life.
Whatever it is—as usual, there’s still a lot of work to do. On my part, I haven’t really done things—this passing year—that I can be called, “accomplishment” or “progress.” Everything is relative in a society that is so reliant on mouse clicks, or in human responses that are drawn to fears/doubts and anxieties/paranoia.
I moved from Asheville NC to Las Vegas to the South Bay. But that doesn’t amount to a “change.” I’ve been moving all my life. I didn’t date, or gone out with, with anyone in the past year, maybe that’s a “change.” The Traveling Bonfires has been doing gigs at least 3 a month, but that isn’t “change,” either. I still don’t know how to figure out bank situations, bills payments or how to keep track of “hidden fees,” or whatever it is that comes with “living in the USA.” Nothing changed. I have been churning out an average of 5,000 words a week as a paid journalist—but that’s not “change.” I chucked my problematic two-door Buick (+ car payments etc) for a Montero SUV, provided by my generous boss. Is this change? Might be called “perks.”
My boss also bought me a new Toshiba laptop and a Canon digicam—and obliged to move our Eagle Rock office (3 freeways away) to Santa Fe Springs, a good 2 or 3 miles to my Lakewood residence. But why am I NOT happy still?
Or am I just getting bored of life?
I need more action., more skirmish, more laughters. I am also getting lonelier and lonelier each day, each night—I am about to post my “best” photo in the next ten personals sites that get in my spam box, seriously.
Whatever.
Now, I gotta watch “Hellboy II.” We seek peace in the unreal, we do… Despite all these, I give 2009 a low-five, just the same. Please watch my next poetry reading at Viento y Agua on 4th Street on Jan 10, Saturday. Meantime, see ya wherever, whenever—but, as ever, live good, love good, and eat only good food!

--Pasckie
Lakewood, CA

GIVE LOVE ON CHRISTMAS DAY

2008-12-24T12:17:00.000-08:00

CHRISTMAS in the Philippines, one of two predominantly Catholic countries in Asia, is one of the biggest holidays on the calendar. The country has earned the distinction of celebrating the world’s longest Christmas season, with Christmas carols are heard as early as September and the season lasting up until Epiphany.
Imagine this. Heartbreaking typhoons, nonstop rains, battering thunderstorms from early June to (most of the time) late November – and over 100 degrees of heat and humid from March till late May... A chronically gasping economy that relies on its “absent” people (or, Overseas Filipino Workers, AKA OFWs) who send the almighty dollar—as in, $17 billion last year (up from 14.7 billion the previous year). (Foreign investments only amount to $7 million in 2008; a good chunk of this money go to the pockets of wholesale government corruption.)
I tried to dial the numbers of my relatives in Manila and Baguio City (up north), five hours ago—but to no avail. I pay Time Warner my 3-in-1 (cable/phone/internet) service on time, roughly $110 a month (excluding some “hidden fee” that occasionally pops in). But they couldn’t help me at this moment.
A week ago, my boss in San Francisco deposited money on my Wells Fargo account (from Bank of America). A week ago. For some reason, the money hasn’t cleared yet. I spent maybe 8 hours each day in the last three days talking to bank tellers (“I am sorry, the manager is not available right now”) and bank managers (“Your boss needs to fax us a letter”). They couldn’t help me.
Last night, at Viento y Agua Café, I read a poem by Filipino novelist Carlos Bulosan about “Life as a foreign language, and how every man mispronounce it,” and a new poem I wrote, “Perfect Man, Imperfect Man.” A few moments of respite.
I wonder what’s happening in a northern Siberian town of Oymyakon right at this moment of Christmas. “The coldest permanently inhabited place on earth.” The lowest recorded temperature there is 71.2 degrees Celsius, the lowest officially recorded temperature in the northern hemisphere. The village has a population of around 800 and is located 690 meters above sea level and lies in a valley between two mountain ranges (the reason for the low temperatures). I saw these people on YouTube, they seem to be happy… like my people back home, at this moment.
Thinking about this, feeling about this… I tell myself, “It’s okay, you are luckier.” There are many villages in my home country where they don’t even have electricity or enough “holiday foods” to share. While rains or war rage outside. But for some reason, they are HAPPY.
Here is a short prose that I wrote years ago, for you beautiful people:

SOMETIMES we need rituals to intercede—mediate or simply act as pesky little go-betweens—when life suddenly becomes a wee bit too functional for occasional intangibles to penetrate the security locks of our convenient lives.
These are the magic moments when cash registers suddenly forget to add and multiply, greenbacks turn pale yellow, Wall Street becomes obsolete, traffic lights turn blue, and microchips fall in love with viruses.
Moments when a child’s angelic grin melts icebergs, a two-line poetry outwits volumes of mathematical theories, a warm kiss dissolves a hundred world wars, a silent flute pacifies nukes, and the mere presence of a Muse changes the tone of day.
So what if it’s Christmas? So what if we dance the rhumba while snow falls, and kids wait for Santa? So what… Sweet rituals like these don’t fit on square room spaces, neither do they read rules or heed time, or measure distances.
They just happen. And when they do happen, reason loses sting and logic fumbles to forgetfulness.
This time, the heart conquers and rules – and definitely – that ain’t meant to be broken.
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ONE AND ALL!

--Pasckie Pascua
12:09 noontime.
24 December 2009
Lakewood, North Carolina
USA

Life is still good despite the “serpentine unease,” as prizefighters rough it up in Vegas—meantime, Dylan rocks the blues from inside my shell

2008-12-12T09:42:00.000-08:00

THE LIZARD VAMPIRE emerges from a week’s dose of “serpentine unease,” otherwise known as Passion Tugging on Steel, dazed but not confused. Tired but unyielding, weary but carrying on—activity drains like incessant rush of rubber on concrete but this is Freeway Country, what do I expect? It’s almost 9 in the morning—the sun is modest but the fog is fine, as Dylan rocks the blues on my CD player via “Down Along the Cove” like an old cat on unrelenting fire.
News over coffee. “The Senate’s defeat of a White House-backed bailout for the auto industry pushes General Motors Corp. to the brink and puts pressure on President Bush to reconsider his refusal to tap Treasury funds to stave off bankruptcies this winter among Detroit’s Big Three.”
Immediately contrasting images (as Simon&Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence” wafts) crisscross: CEOs on Dom Perignon over Beluga caviar; auto workers on value meals and Mickey Dees chicken nuggets. Corporate gods will still have good food roastin’ on an open fire this Christmas, while the poor workers of America squeeze hard-earned $$ at a 99Cents Store.
Outside my world of maybe relative/romanticized “comfort,” 533,00 jobs were lost or cut last month (the most in 34 years). I was in two carmakers shows two weeks ago (Nissan from Japan, General Motors from the US)… both giants are pushing for their cars of tomorrow. A new car means a new job? A new car means more money for gasoline, as well. A new car means more profits to the makers, of course. Sometimes I just do my gradeschool arithmetic equation to be able to understand all these.
“And the people bowed and prayed / to the neon god they made. And the sign flashed out its warning / In the words that it was forming.”

LAST WEEK, I was in Las Vegas’s MGM Grand—to cover the middleweight boxing fight between my compatriot Manny “Pacman” Pacquiao and Oscar “Golden Boy” De La Hoya (the Pacman won on a demolition job of the Golden Boy). Nah, I didn’t play killjoy—chase politicos who probably chucked $1200 a tix minimum of (Filipino) taxpayers’ money (excluding other US visit expenses)?
But it was a perplexing prizefighter’s life, huh?
A paragraph from my post-fight report: “Manny Pacquiao has just shamed the most obtuse ring observers, and thrown everything on unswerving faith in God, plus a perplexing sense of focus and hard work. The achievements of the man who starts and ends his fights with a short prayer, punctuates his most rigid training regimen by mingling with fans like a neighborhood buddy, and shares his millions with the poor—can never be mistaken.”
I can probably kiss a lovely lady and “fake” the delivered warmth, but beat down a dude and then, still hang with one’s wisdom (how can I “pretend” hurting someone? Well, I just knocked the daylights out of you, dude!) Ah, life is hard to judge—in every 99 faults that we commit, we even things up with one good deed, I guess. Do I sound dense? I am actually drafting/writing a poem based on the paradox of prizefighting (from a “Third World voice”)—with some apologies to Federico Garcia Lorca’s “Lament for Ignacio Sanchez Mejias.”
Whatever the case, I concede—the Pacman can box, for sure. It’s not a “nationalistic fervor” (I’m never known to be like that)—but I do agree, he’s the best boxer I’ve ever seen or watched (TV, live etc). And I’m talking about the greats Muhammad Ali and Sugar Ray Leonard.

I JUST realized that my (poetry) readings, these days—either with the Nomads of 4th Street or via a Traveling Bonfires gig—run at an average of four a month, or minimum of one a week. That’s excluding seven 12-minute open mic spots a month. And I’m writing 5,000 to 7,000 words a week as a journalist or editor.
And I still have time to meet up with three wonderful ladies (Desiree, Margo, Robyn—or Monday’s writers group) for less than two hours a week, and then spend more hours with my fellow Nomad (Daniel) and Marta The Nicer O within the week, before and after each gig.
And I have been waking up at 5:15am (at least in the last 4 days)! Is that good? In fact, I have a reading tonight in Echo Park LA (Tribal Café), with Los Angelenos/Angelenas Eledar & Kymistry, Los Dugans, One Imagination, and Lamar Glover AKA Nameless. I’m rehearsing an anti-war poem by Pablo Neruda (that I modified a bit for more accessible public reading): “Explico Algunas Cosas” (“I am Explaining a Few Things”).
Last Wednesday, me and Daniel, read poems at “Human Writes” at the Gypsy Den in Santa Ana’s Artists Village. The event was a human rights advocacy open mic, organized by Gabriela Network to commemorate the International Human Rights Day, and celebrate women survivors of violence. I was before a crowd of young (mostly) CSU-Irvine students who could be my kids; when Gabriela was formed in Manila in early 80s or 90s (?), I was their age. Time flies. (Funny, I “saw” those beautiful people and spirits of my past, again—women activists and anti-Marcos poets—on Facebook!)
Meanwhile, me and Daniel (as Nomads of 4th Street) expect a “huge” crowd at our Border Bellflower show tomorrow, Dec 13. Daniel said that one of his students wants my t-shirt and booble-head! But, we always great attentive/approving crowd at Borders. Next week (Dec 19), we’ll be at Viento y Agua Café & Gallery on 4th Street, Long Beach (our `hood)—reading with a real multiracial bunch of friends: Leonard Baric, Agnieszka Burzuchowski, Nameless, Alyssandra Nighswonger, and Jumakae Yodraj.
We have also spread out across three or four freeways (aside from Echo Park LA)—and we’ll be reading in Venice CA (The Talking Stick) on Jan 19 and Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood (Café Muse) on Jan 22. (Without poetry, I don’t know if I’d be able to hang on to my sanity—you know what I mean?)

LIFE IS STILL GOOD. There’s some intermittent “creative” skirmish at the writers’ table last week, and a Nomad has just left the trio, and I had a blooper on Page 1 of my paper’s San Francisco/NorCal edition on closing time last week—but that’s okay.
My employers/publishers in San Francisco just sent me a new laptop and digicam, and they finally moved our Eagle Rock office to a `hood (Santa Fe Springs) near me—after I whined and whined (“I need an office, I need an office—NEAR me”). And, as I said, I have a reading in Echo Park tonight. Some random friends and comrades might score my chapbook and CD. I am sure they will give me some love by sayin’ “I like your poem…” I am so easy to please. (Just kiss my ego, I am fine as the most humble man in the whole wide world!)
And on Monday, I’ll whip up some awesome Pan-Am fusion dish for my co-Monday writers group homegirls, Desiree, Margo and Robyn (plus Sasha and Marta The Nicer O). Hosting a dinner again—I love it! I have a new concoction of Vietnamese mushroom chicken soup to share.
Yes, I am tired but unyielding, weary but carrying on. I repeat—life is still good. So as I always say—love good, live good and eat only good food!

--Pasckie
9:45am. 12 Dec 08
South Bay California

Nomads cruisin’ the ‘hood, and more half-life gigs by the vampire gecko with a journalist/poet cover

2008-11-24T03:20:00.000-08:00

A FULL WEEK in the half-life of a vampire gecko with a journalist/poet cover.
The Philippine president, Gloria Arroyo, skipped her scheduled dinner speech at Sheraton Gateway Hotel here on Friday, Nov 21—and flew straight to Peru for the APEC summit. Official notices say her hubby stayed put in Osaka due to stomach virus. We hope to see him and 60+ more politicos at the ringside of the Pacquiao-De La Hoya fight at MGM Grand in Vegas next week. Protestors, mostly young Filipino-American students and union workers, massed outside Sheraton’s building near LAX to denounce Arroyo’s leadership.
This is a tired episode for an 800-word piece.
General Motors negotiates the current financial storm sweeping the global automobile industry by strengthening its commitment to the future by unveiling the car of tomorrow, called Chevrolet Volt—a plug-in electric hybrid “green car” that delivers up to 40 miles of gasoline- and emissions-free electric driving, with the extended-range capability of hundreds of additional miles.
Meantime, the top three Motor City automakers (GM, Ford Motor Co. and Chrysler LLC) beg Congress for $25 billion in loans—”bail out” nearly a quarter-million workers or “bail out” cash advances for corporate parties and CEO paychecks?
Just another obligatory episode for a Monday night deadline.
Macy’s Lake Avenue store in Pasadena reopens despite consumer spending slump due to current economic crisis. Filipina muay thai (mixed martial arts) champ Christine Toledo is home in Vegas following a victorious fight in Zhengzhou, China. The Office of the Patient Advocate releases the Health Care Quality Report Card and says Kaiser Permanente is the best HMO program for us health care orphaned Californians.
More news? Nah. At least I have two “eating gigs” this week. That sort of evens up everything, I guess.
Many times I ponder and muse, “What if I decided to be a fulltime activist myself and never became a journalist?” I won’t regret it, I know—since I am still a journalist, bread-and-butter and bones-and-sticks. I believe that I am able to survive this impoverished, nerve-wracking newspaperperson gig because I’m good at detachment. Or I am good at numbing my senses or calming my fires down with my poetry or all these crazy things that I do beyond the newsroom or “coverage.” Hence, I am able to detach myself from a day’s “day in the life.”
It’s always “just another day.”

BUT HEY, there’s also some little joys. Like, look—the head office in San Francisco is sending me a new laptop and digicam. (Although, I was hoping that I got some sort of pay hike—given the holiday season.) But, of course, that’s okay. I can’t always complain, you know… and a new laptop isn’t bad at all.
And some beautiful moments on the sides…
On Saturday, I hosted (with my housemate and Shenandoah-bred “alter ego” Marta The Nicer O) dinner for the Nomads of 4th Street—the new beat kings of the South Bay (well, perhaps). Chicken adobo (meat on soy and vinegar), Vietnamese mushroom broth, sesame chicken kebab, lumpia (it’s like spring rolls or dumpling). (Nomad Daniel R doesn’t like seafoods, by the way. What’s wrong with him, huh?)
After the chow, we decided to cruise down 4th street street and Broadway, 7th and PCH, and checked out some possible venues for future gigs (although we’re already pretty much booked till the end of the year and half of January). [CHECK THIS OUT: Nov 29, Sat, 7pm-9pm. The Library, A Coffeehouse, 3418 E Broadway, Long Beach, CA 90803. With special guest Alyssandra Nighswonger.]
The dude at Roscoe’s: “We’d like to do that poetry thing or spoken word in spring, that’d be great!” The goth damsel at Que Sera: “Nobody listens to poetry down here—I think they do that kind of crap on the next block.” No problem, we are cool (Marta reminded Daniel that at least, we’ve never been kicked out of a gig yet—hmmm, just like that sad night at Club Hairspray in Asheville!) Anyhow, we ended up doing a piece each at Rag’s gig at Good Vibes, corner of Linden. Dan: “Man, I wish we had all these videotaped!”
Indeed, we are rockin’ with this poetry madness. We’re feelin’ it, lovin’ it. And we notice that poets seem to outnumber musicians at 4th Street Long Beach these days. I dig it when people call us, “poets” or the Nomads of 4th Street (“The Nomads of 4th Street are in the house!” or “Yes, I know you guys!”) Remembrances—my first few days reading poems at Beanstreets in downtown Asheville, Fells Point in Baltimore, and with the Poetry Guerrilla Insurgency in Washington DC. Or Manila amidst the disquieting Martial Law nights, Kasalo evenings with the late Ishma Bernal and Mulong Sandoval… toma at talinghaga (alcohol and metaphors).
The Nomads. Do poets get lovely, super-generous groupies like Motley Crue, as well? (I hope to relinquish my “single” status soon, I hope) … I don’t know. This is another week. But the truth is, without poetry—it’s so easy to cave in these days. Economic funk and loneliness that seeps through the gutters. Do they know it’s almost Christmas? The season’s supposed to be jolly, right? I don’t even know what to do for Christmas, or really it’s Thanksgiving this week?
Funny, I saw this dude that I used to hang with in NYC, at the Sheraton rally and recalled my “rock journey and sublime madness” 8 years ago: “Hey Pasckie, I still remember that turkey you brought from North Carolina to New York City on Thanksgiving Day!”
Hmmm.
And when another dude (holding a huge papier mache image of the Philippine president) said: “I clip your work, you know” and the leader of the protestors: “Yes, of course, I read your stuff,” I just realized that I’ve been writing all my life and here I am, still scrounging for little blessings on the road, the 4th streets of the main streets of my neverending journey.

We are nomads.
We are the wound of the 4th streets
of the Main Streets of American heartland—
the rolling stones of downtown Manhattans
down West 4ths toward Bleecker streets
uptown Capitol Hills at the curb
of Dow Jones Boulevards,
the tear-gassed urchins of Plaza Mendiolas
near palaces of powers in Manila avenues
of the U S of A’s of our dreams,
the remnants of 700 bottles of bourbon
seeking warmth in the dumpsters
of decay and doom, hubris and happiness
from Chicago to Las Vegas
Newark, New Jersey to Flint, Michigan.

ALL I NEED to survive a day are nice words, warm gestures, thoughtful remembrances from beautiful spirits out there in the open field. That’s all I need to even up things, I guess. I am so easy to please.
Now, back to my week’s assignments and Mondays of the life. Eating gig in Long Beach at 3, and writers conversations with Margo, Desiree and Robyn at 6.
Tuesday. A dinner thrown for local media members by President Gloria Arroyo’s press secretary at a Glendale restaurant. Another eating gig, how can I miss that? Uhh, I remember the past. Marcos freebies and those fateful days of my half-100 years. Dinner with the Press Secretary AKA government apologist?
But nah, thank you. The Nomads are hangin’ out at Borders Bellflower or Viento y Agua that evening, instead. And I think Marta The Nicer O still got some cheesecakes for Dan and Mike, and I got leftovers from Saturday’s dinner… (You see, the vampire gecko with a journalist/poet cover is still himself, whoever that dude is, after all these years.)
Wednesday. Meeting with my new photographer, Rebecca Peterson near CSULB. That night, on 4th street, woohoo! Readings at Portfolio Café’s open mic (I have a new poem called, “Wednesday (or Tuesday) Night Fever,” just like the Bee Gees, oh yeah!). The rest of the week, Thanksgiving Day and all, I don’t know what’s gonna happen. Probably rent some vendo-machine DVD movie over cheap Carlo Rossi burgundy, or listen to my Simon & Garfunkel box set. Alone. But let it flow. Look, I am a nomad, just like a leaf of grass…
So, as I always mumble before I cut out. Boys and girls—live good, love good, and eat only good food!

—Pasckie
3:11am. Monday. 11.24.08.
Long Beach CA

The Nomads

2008-11-17T01:30:00.000-08:00

Nomads of 4th street (2)

And here they are:
DANIEL ROMO, PASCKIE PASCUA, MIKE JAMES.

Nomads of 4th street, old old poems, and the weary life of an obligatory journalist

2008-11-17T01:27:00.000-08:00

A “TWILIGHT” party in honor of Stephenie Meyer happens downstairs—while outside, wildfires spread through the southeast of Riverside and northwest of Santa Barbara—but upstairs, the second poetry reading by the “Nomads of 4th Street” at Borders Bellflower here in Long Beach remains unperturbed. Twice this month (Nov 1st and Nov 15th), we had a pretty inspiring turn-out, and we also sold some chapbooks and CDs! Amidst economic funk, post-election trauma, and pre-holiday anxiety—little, simple pleasures of life and living such as this, sure feels good.
Now, I’m amped up—feels like all I gotta do is write more poems. Should I finish unfinished poems now? Undone poems about an insomniac vampire who hangs out Waffle House, a rambling dirge cribbed from an Eagles’ CD cover (“Long Road Out of Eden”), a love poem that I haven’t quite nailed after years of attempt, a “secret” sonnet for Anna Faris, a discourse about gods who lost their houses on foreclosures.
The Nomads will be hitting the campuses soon, as well—CSU Long Beach, Whittier College, Long Beach College, UCLA, plus “gigs” in Canoga Park, Redondo Beach, Orange, Venice Beach, and Los Angeles Echo Park-Melrose Blvd `hood.
So many things to write—only to realize that today is Sunday, and I should get down to work again. Five articles a week. Tomorrow, I have to run to Freddie Roach’s Hollywood gym and check out boxer Manny Pacquiao’s media workout, this Friday I have to stake out outside Gateway Sheraton Hotel with protestors (Philippine president Gloria Arroyo will be delivering a speech inside—I’m not really interested with what she’s got to say, but I’d like to listen to what her people feel and think). Then on Friday, I will be in Pasadena to cover a Macy’s store reopening. It’s a good thing that, in between those obligatory forays, I got some “eating gigs” to attend to (ie restaurant/food reviews). Food is always good or effective to balance big city funk.
A week in the life of a working class journalist.
Few nights ago, I came across a line from an old poem (written in Tagalog language): “Hindi ko bibilangin ang galos sa aking pusong iniwan ng iyong pagpanaw, bagkus bubuhayin ko ang iyong alaala sa pamamagitan ng maingat na pagtahak sa bakas ng yapak na iyong iniwan...” (Loosely translated, “I will not count the wounds in my heart that your passing have inflicted, instead I will relive your memories as I carefully trace the footsteps that you left…”) This is from an old poem, “Awit sa Musa” (Song for the Muse).
Those lines were inscribed on “Freedom Wall”—in front of the tomb of a Filipino youth named Sigmund. Shivers crawl all over me—and then I surfed some more and saw titles of my Tagalog poems (that I left in Manila in 1998) published in an anthology from the University of the Philippines. I tried to click them (so I could read some) but I needed to buy them with credit card or paypal.
The consolation was, I chanced upon a friend’s (who is in Canada) journal with a line from my many ramblings: “… just hearts cutting through barriers, the beam of moonlight giving clarity to a metaphor or a guitar note. We can do the bonfire.”
I kept on repeating this “news” to friends (of what I discovered online)—like a kid who just saw my face on Staples Center’s giant screen. “Look, they actually read my poem…”
Makes me think of a really morbid thought. What happens when I die? Will people gather my words and publish them and share them to people? That’d be an honor. I still don’t know how to sell myself. I just write for the sake of writing. I still feel so good when other publications and media outlets reprint my articles—although I know I will always be underpaid and overworked.
What am I talking about? All I want to say is—I wish I am a poem. Nomadic but magical. Invisible but invincible. Just happy as it is—the way it is. I wish life is that simple.
See you on our next reading, m’friends!

--Pasckie
1:24am. 17 Nov 08
Long Beach CA

BLOGGIN’ FREEWAY SLIDERS

2008-10-02T22:57:00.000-07:00

Goin’ to the Go Go, Sarah Palin and Tina Fey of my Dreams, those beaches of my prozac-imitation aftermidnights, and the eating gigs of my South Bay little life

SO MANY THINGS to meander and muse…
Meantime, whatever so-called analysts say, I do believe that Joe Biden clobbered Sarah Palin in their just-concluded VP debate in St Louis. Gov Palin’s “We will fight for…” mini closing speech reeked of traditional politico histrionics. Ah, why can’t the Republicans distance themselves from the obvious blunders of the Bush administration? Party loyalty? We do care about foreign policy (such as, “Eye-ran and Eye-rock”) in the macro, but we need to look at the micro-issues, for now. The American people need answer when the jobs—40 hours workweek—going to be back, affordable housing, more money for daily gut-level exigencies.
Whatever the case though, these are “good,” entertaining sideshows (read, distractions) amidst the apathy… So now—go ahead and check your Verizon cable bills and Wells Fargo bank statements for phantom interest rates and “checkyourbalancefor$2” fees. Are your dearly-beloved duplexes about to be foreclosed?
Yup, so many things to whine and write about—conjectures, juxtapositions, ricochets—of life on a freeway trajectory, sort of. I am not talking about metaphorical cheeseball—there’s no double-meanings, just life staring at you like an owl’s blank stare.
Life and living in the past few weeks or so almost made me want to grab a piece of whatever a dazed and confused Heather Locklear got into her system few days ago. Believe it or not, I moved apartments in Long Beach three times in one month’s time! Let’s just say, I am okay wherever I am right now, for the time being—but I’m sure I’m gonna move again in few weeks time, for some reason only my brattish girth could explain or understand.
(Jimmy Buffett just wrangled on my weary eardrums with “Cheeseburger in Paradise,” and right at this very moment, Air Supply is licking my wounds with, “Making Love Out of Nothing at All.” Talk about desperation, huh?)
Well, despite all these funk and blues of my I-605/I-5 freeway slide, I will have some fun next weekend, that’s for sure. I got a free ticket to Panic at the Disco!/Dashboard Confessional concert at Staples Center on Friday next week, Oct 10. (That is, if their emo-whatever stuff don’t drive me deeper in abyss.) And then, I am going to watch this up-and-coming band, Grand Fools Derby, at the legendary Whisky a Go Go on Sunset Blvd the next night, Oct 11. The Doors did start at the Go Go, right? And when I was a kid, I used to dance (mash potato, boogie, limbo-rock, twist) to The Miracles’ “Going to a Go Go.”
Would you believe, I’ll be booking bands/acts at the Go Go? Call it a pathetic case of bruised-ego-upside down, but I did book bands at the famed CBGB in Bowery and The Bitter End and Café Wha? at Bleecker Street in New York City and now, Whisky a Go Go in LA, but (sigh!) I wasn’t able to get pass the box-office window of Asheville’s The Orange Peel in all my almost 8 years of my Appalachian crashland. Oh yes, I did book at Club Hairspray—never mind that I was kicked out unceremoniously by its owner, along with The Bonfires’ 1500 tons of equipment and flabbergasted musicians! (Y’know, I am still mad at that conjecture. One day, someday when Oprah interviews me, uh-huh, I’ll never forget to scream out loud, right on national TV, “I GOT KICKED OUT OF CLUB HAIRSPRAY IN ASHEVILLE!” Whoa!!!)
Despite all these though, I miss Asheville. I miss the February snow wafting outside my Dunwell Av front window, I miss the sweet mayhem at Pritchard Park and Malaprop’s diverse humanity and Lex Av’s sublime clutter and Rosetta’s Kitchen’s subversive allure and Westville Pub’s coterie of cute dogs sharing my PBR.
More significantly, I miss Asheville’s women—with their healthy hips, intellectual spunk, Meg Ryan smiles, and fantabulous hairs. (Aside: I didn’t know that there are more blonde girls in the South Bay than in the South! Before I journeyed to America many, many years ago, I thought all blonde women live only in Georgia. Now, I am VERY wrong. They all live in Long Beach, Newport Beach, Huntington Beach, Hermosa Beach, Redondo Beach, Laguna Beach, and all those beaches in Surfside USA. Mother of Mercy my Lord—even Cambodian and Filipino girls out here got blonde hairs, just like The Hills! Nah, I am not complaining—I just love to watch, that’s all.)

SERIOUSLY now, I am still debating if I’m going to go to Carson on Saturday to cover Sarah Palin’s “victory rally” at Home Depot Center (yes, Home Depot). I don’t know about you but she’s hot (yup, despite her embarrassed looks at the Washington Univ debate, she’s still beautiful). Now, I am dead-seriously on a bind here, just few weeks ago, I was fantasizing getting hitched to/with Tina Fey (oh yes, those black-rimmed glasses are sexy)—now I get sweet nightmares of Ms Fey/Gov Palin, are they twins?
I really like election seasons, here there and everywhere. It’s a carnival, it’s colorful, it’s fun like Barnum & Bailey circus, fiesta. When I was 6 or 7, I always pestered my Mom with, “Hey, when is the next karnabal coming to town?” I was referring to those campaign stumps where dancing ladies on velvet mini skirts and jugglers tugging along chimpanzees with orange and green balloons stickin’ out of their ears, hovered around politicos who danced, sang, orated, did acrobatics, and said all those rehearsed lies like behaved clowns, you know what I mean? And then their lieutenants gave away cotton candies and bags of school supplies (with Red Cross logos emblazoned on them) and stuff. I really thought these were all circus days—I collected multicolored banderitas and handbills and posters and sun visors. Fun childhood, I miss all those years.
(I remember, somewhere in Southeast Asia, not the Philippines—as I passed by an election parade, a dude on cammos mistook me for a local reporter and so he handed me free reflectorized condoms with his candidate’s photo on them, plus a week’s stay at a sauna bath salon. But, of course, those were nothing… during Marcos’ years, it was more blatant.)
Believe it or not though, I never did vote in any elections in all my life. It’s not a boycott or whatever, I just never did. Maybe indolence.

LEST I FORGET, yes—the first Bonfires for Peace in California (or South Bay) did happen at the Huntington Beach state park on Sept 24. Real fire, this time—flames crackling seemed so real, says our new hangout homey Leonard B (I call him Leo DiCarpio, he’s like 6 foot 9 inches tall). It was a very intimate “bonfire”—poetry without mic, marshmallows toasting, anti-war petitions handed out, potluck food (eg my pansit/semi-dry noodle dish and sandwiches c/o Pat Alviso), under a very dark sky. And intense and passionate discussion – between a beachcomer youth named Ryan and a Veteran for Peace activist named Keith – about the peace movement and where we all are heading from here?
I had a chance to talk about the BfP through a local public access TV called “People’s Tribute Television” few days before the event. I thought I could really handle the gig, no butterflies a-whirling in my chest, but when the host asked me, “Do you have a poem to read?” I froze. I got over the show unscathed though, I guess…
Also, the first official Traveling Bonfires/Vagrant Wind gig in California did happen on Sept 20 at Viento y Agua Café & Gallery. Main act was Stella’s Notch, a band by Filipino-American friend Melody del Mundo. Also performed were Huntington Beach’s Molly Kindelberger and Anna Tutor (aka Without the Blonde), and poet Daniel Romo.
Next stops: “Under a Peaceful Night Sky” (A Traveling Bonfires Party), on Oct 11, in my friend Lisa Engelbrecht’s house in house in Long Beach. It’s a poolside/garden program of songs, poetry, movies, food and conversations. (Yes, I’ll have to run to and fro three freeways on the same night—to 7th Avenue in Long Beach and Sunset Blvd in LA, same night, Oct 11. Well, I am Super Madman, you know.)
On Oct 25, Stella’s Notch and myself will be back for another Vagrant Wind gig in Westlake/Echo Park neighborhood, in a dive called Tribal Café. Also performing is a spoken word group of Puerto Rican, Filipino, Mexican and America college kids.

THERE ARE OTHER things to talk about—about my news coverages. But my ramblings will render your eyes bloodshot. I made a 2-hour trip to Indio CA to interview an 80+ year old Welsh war intern in Manila in WW2, with his internment friends here in the US. Interviewed a Ohio State dude who designed the interiors of General Motors’ “green car” or Chevy Volt. Interviewed two fiery women: a 19-year old LGBT activist who’s running in CA state assembly’s 48th district and a Filipino/Chinese-American who’s running for Supervisor of CA’s 11th District (Frisco, basically). Interviewed young Asian/Latino “undocumented undergrads” at UCLA. Covered Cuba’s independence day party in Temple st., LA. Covered Long Beach hotel workers rallies. Covered the Equity Bill at the House, eg Sen. Filner/Sen Burr’s “relations” with Filipino WW2 veterans. Etcetera, etcetera.
I also had eating “coverages” (AKA, free meals)—to wit: (a) at Naples Rib Company in Long Beach—a full rack of St Louis ribs or a combo of New York steak and baby back ribs, served with cornbread, fresh vegetable, fruit and a choice of two others sides (coleslaw, French fries, baked potato etc), ushered by an appetizer of fresh grilled artichoke or deep fried mozzarella cheese, and 2nd Street spinach salad with cornbread croutons and dinner rolls. And take-home brown bags of fresh grilled swordfish, Hawaiian style chicken BBQed breast, and pasta primavera.
And, (b) at Tribal Café in Westlake/Echo Park `hood in LA—Buddha’s Bowl (for me) of brown rice and quinoa topped with seasoned tofu & orange-ginger sauce; served with greens and veggies in our special Thai peanut sauce, sprinkled with roasted sesame seeds, and Indonesian Bowl (for Marta The Nicer) of marinated tempeh, greens and veggies over brown rice, layered with terri-hossien sauce, garnished with sprouts, fresh basil leaves, and roasted peanuts. And boxes of salad full of proteins, pythonutrients and fiber, loaded with quinoa, black beans, scallions, chopped fresh red bell, cucumber and tomato, currants, cilantro, carrots, toasted pecans, dash of cayenne and fresh-cracked pepper, served on a bed of lettuce with lime cilantro dressing. (Those are the gigs that I will always go for.)
Indeed, many stuff and things in the life of a greyhounded journalist.
You know what’s good in the midst of my astronomical stress levels (while shuttling from one apartment to the other)—I discovered a cool internet café in downtown Long Beach. It’s called C&C Internet Café--$4 for an hour’s use and $2.50 salad and $4 eight rolls of sushi. Food again, yes.
On that note, let me adjourn. As ever, love good, live good, and eat only good food!

--Pasckie
10:43pm. 5 Oct 08.
Long Beach CA.

Earthquakes on boob tube, broken Seagrams, dropped Blackberrys, $100-plate fundraisers, and my life as a “superhero-imagined" journalist

2008-07-30T16:54:00.000-07:00

EARTHQUAKE! Same time yesterday, a rockin’ wavy 10-secs (or more) tremor roused me from my sleep (yes, vampires are still asleep at 11am). I thought a combined force of Hellboy and Rosie McDonnel was pulling me out of my slumber, or something. (Okay, it’s over now—no significant damage to life and limb. Right now, I am dancing to The Police’s “De Do Do Do, Da Da Da Da.”)
A Hollywood-based dudette with a Pam Anderson head and trans fats-fed brains: “Oh my God, that wasn’t cool at all. Scary! That was my first time ever to be in an earthquake! I was tryin’ to text my mom, but all signals were gone. It was scary, so scary! I actually dropped my Blackberry and hit my foot!” Rewind to many months ago—a banished young beauty contest winner (maybe a future wifey of Donald Trump): “Yeah, it was awesome at the rehab. It so like, spiritual cool! We had party at the pool and I chilled and hanged out with really awesome people out there! I wanna visit one day—you know like, this summer?” [Sting: “De do do do, da da da da—that’s all I got to say to you.”)
Back to the 5.4 intensity earthquake.
I actually felt for the liquor store owner in Chino Hills (quake’s epicenter): [Imagine William Hurt sullenness, near tears] “Yeah, that was terrible. We had like hundreds of wine bottles, expensive liquor that broke… Sad.” / How about this. An “expert” in emergency situations: “When things like this happen, don’t leave them alone, don’t show them that you are panicking, keep calm. Because they don’t like that, they have to be assured that things are okay.” (He’s referring to dogs and he’s reporting from Beverly Hills.)
But everything’s okay now… Let’s go back to our superhero-smothered summer. (I haven’t even seen “The Dark Knight” yet in a multiplex near me; that quake made me paranoid! It was so, like, y’know, scary shit!)

NOW, HEAR this! According to former astronaut Edgar Mitchell, UFOs are real and aliens are watching us. ETs are checkin’ us out, so how cool is that, huh? I’d rather be watched, pursued—and shook, rattled and rolled—by some dude with spatula-shaped head, aquamarine flesh, Jell-O ears, and tiny Michael Jackson nose than really-fearsome ICE agents and multi-accented telemarketing phone commandoes. I’m down with a multi-galaxy of diversity (the NEW bitch)—like meeting up for a fun Friday night with a plethora of Guillermo del Toro’s cute creatures (eg “Hellboy,” “Pan’s Labyrinth,” “Devil’s Backbone”) over Corona Lites and calamari.
“Hey, hom! What’s goin’ on up there in Jupiter? I heard Axl Rose just moved there, and Motley Crue’s doin’ a gig at Planet Hollywood-Jupiter, awesome!” / “Check out hummus in Saturn, m’friend. No trans fats, no preservatives—got that? We also have permanently-stickin’ organic condoms, it stays there forever, man! Real cheap, just 2 Saturnean dollars (equivalent of an American dime).” / “Lose the Blackberry, panero! We, Venus People, got built-in cellphone down our esophagus, you can actually text while you’re having dinner. How cool is that? It’ll be available at Target-Mars next month for $2.00 with 75 cents rebate, I’ll check that out. Have you been to Mars? I met my awesome boyfriend out there, he’s got 15 arms—so New Wave, so wayyyyy out cool!”

TRANS FATS. Yup, I mentioned that already—three times. I just wrote the headline story for my newspaper’s Southern California edition this week: “Restaurants okay with trans fats ban” (that meant, Filipino restaurants). My lead: “California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger wants his constituents to keep fit and healthy so he signs a bill over the week requiring restaurants to cook without artery-clogging and disease-inducing trans fats. Trans fats, also known as trans fatty acids, can increase the shelf life and flavor preservation of foods but has been linked to heart disease, stroke, diabetes, and obesity, according to medical research.”
My “healthcentric” friends will love me for that story. Nuff said. But check out my story by the weekend (www.philippinenews.com)
Hmm, I just wish that the federal government or The State of Kaleefornya give their constituents more work hours and higher wages. What are they gonna do—tell LAPD to arrest a 26hr/$8.15 workweek overweight citizen because he/she just dined at Burger King? Trans fats are not even a figment of Third World/starvation-salaried people’s lives—they preserve and flavor their food with natural earth endowments (again, check my article. Now that’s enough self-PR already!)
Why can’t we focus on something else more… uhh, real? Look, I am a vampire, too—but that’s just my “personal bullshit.” I ain’t going to score Stephenie Meyer’s book (it was handed to me by a publicist) and eat it. There’s this one-full page ad at Entertainment Weekly that’s paid for by the American Vampire League of America that says, “Support Equality for All Citizens! Support the Vampire Rights Amendment!” Let them drown in Diet Mountain Dew and Waffle House pancake syrup!
Check out my poem, “The Vampire of the 20th Century” (yes, that’s another self-PR).
You know what I’m saying. There are many activists who profess “peace around the world” but cringe when you request them to sign a “Stop the War” petition. Or, years ago, a local paper in Asheville NC refused to print a photo of a homeless man who was stabbed in downtown’s Pritchard Park, because “it advances violence… we are not after violence.”
No wonder we all freaked out like tail-less roosters when 9/11 struck—when 9/11s happen in many parts of the world where foreign policy gods rear their ugly, helmeted heads. It’s because it’s them, not us…

OKAY, I DIGRESS. Maybe I’ll just focus on finishing my novel. I just “talk” a lot sometimes. Right now, I am here under 90s temp and listening to Blur’s Damon Albarn and waiting for our Manila editor to send me proofs and galleys (to read). Bored.
We moved our “Wander” writers group (that I just formed) for next Wednesday. Makes me wonder, as well, why is it more women seem to faithfully pursue writing? Wander (the group) has only women-members. Not that I don’t like it, I am just intrigued sometimes…
Talk about intrigue of the trade. Have you heard about author Brunonia Barry? She wrote this book, “The Lace Reader”—actually she self-published it for $50,000. And then, a huge publishing outfit took notice and signed her up for a two-book deal with $2 million down payment.
Cool, isn’t it? Problem is, I really don’t know where to get $50,000 to self-freakin’-publish my book! Man, I can’t even buy Howard Zinn’s new book or two of Frank Miller’s graphic novels (that my son, Duane, requested) with my starvation salary… So it really works for me that I am a writer, I get freebies from the mail—like S Meyer’s books, Taco Bell gift cards (no trans fats warning, sorry), and Macy’s women’s undies discounts (Lord-have-mercy, why can’t these PR people figure it out, Pasckie is a Male!)

A SUPERHERO summer, AKA the invasion of our pockets by the unreal. That’s what we’re having these days.
Gas prices and Con (what a name!) Edison bills and chopped-up work hours (for minimum-wagers), and all the hassles of life and living’s synthetic gigs. The only way to go is go watch an escapist superhero movie or two…
My criticism vs critics: Critics (Rolling Stone, Time, NY Times etc etc) heap hallelujahs on Heath Ledger’s “The Joker”—because he is already dead, I guess. Do we need to sympathize with a ruthless anti-hero, or are we sorry that the actor—the real person—is dead? Get a grip. Are comics superheroes supposed to be for kids? Or Adults are the Kids now? (So much violence, right? So we don’t like “violence” and then took Batman circa 2008 to box-office dollar pinnacle, in expense of our starvation salaries!)
More. The Incredible Hulk “sucked” because his exploits are so “unrealistic” (as one critic wrote). Duh? He’s supposed to be so NOT real, hello? Batman, the brooding millionaire; Hancock, the brat superman. Ah, the only super-dude that I dig is Hellboy, because he’s got sense of humor and manages to love a lady and shows it. If that isn’t the “real” deal, I don’t know what is.
Contradictions. Contradictions. Don’t be mad—I am just like the millions, just like us. Helpless, hapless prisoners of “timequake” (refer to Vonnegut).

LET’S TALK about real stuff for a bit.
I just watched this a 1999 Michael Mann movie, “The Insider,” a multi-nominated exploration that told a story of a “60 Minutes” TV series exposé of the tobacco industry, as seen through the eyes of a real tobacco executive, Jeffrey Wigand (a comparatively restrained Russell Crowe, inward but forceful). The “60 Minutes” story originally aired in November 1995 in an altered form because CBS’ then-owner, Laurence Tisch, objected. The story was later aired on February 4, 1996.
Anyways… the movie is all about the truth, as seen from the eyes (and conscience) of a “corporate” insider and a balls-out journalist. Perfect synergy. This one made me remember the past, during my younger years as journalist caught in the underbelly of the Marcos dictatorship. I recall an argument I had with a newspaper marketing “god”—and heard it again in the movie (Al Pacino as newsman Lowell Bergman and Philip Baker Hall as producer Don Hewitt).
The words are still there: “I am a journalist. I am paid to find news, pursue the truth. I will risk my life to do my job. That’s what I am here for. You do your job, I do mine.” I was forced to resign. My girlfriend at that time, mother of my eldest, left us.
Until now, I see truths, stories of lives and living—eg 65 Filipino politicians flew to Las Vegas last month to watch a boxing match while relatives of hundreds of people who perished in a shipwreck mourned their dead back home. I want to write those stories, but even though I couldn’t for now—I will. Maybe in a self-published book – that is, if I could raise $50,000 from tips in a poetry open mic.
Plug. In case you have some poet/musician friends who live/travel here in Southern CA—I’m already working on lineups for the Traveling Bonfires’ Vagrant Wind 2008 gigs. The first (or second) show happens at Tribal Café in W Temple, near Echo Park, in LA—on Aug 22, Friday. We may have one before that—in Long Beach’s downtown.

OKAY, LAST but not the least—let me tell you about another fundraiser (that I covered/wrote about) in a swank Hollywood hotel’s roof garden last weekend. Women on Lhuiller gowns, men on Brooks Bros, $100 a plate dinner. Fundraiser for the poor. [Sting: “De do do do, da da da da—that’s all I got to say to you.”)
Let me just switch on my Guillermo del Toro movie, “The Devil’s Backbone” (seen in, like 30 times!) while I chomp away with my trans fats-toxic Twinkies and 99 cents apple cider soda. But for you, my dear friends—love good, live good, and eat ONLY good food!
Buenas tardes!

—Pasckie
4:15pm. July 30 08.
Lakewood CA

Finally—“Bonfires for Peace” in Kaleefornya, “timequakes” and contradictions, plus dirty juice from decadent blues and toxic coffee

2008-07-18T17:24:00.000-07:00

SITTING BY THE DUNES of Seal Beach on an early July morning: ruminating over Margaret Atwood's Nova Scotia ruminations (and tips how to get motivated to write, or “negotiate with the dead,” as she puts it), trying to charcoal-sketch the pier (clothed with awkward fog, adorned by gothic gulls, ruffled by spooky earthlings brandishing fishing lines/rods, like assault rifles) as Amy Winehouse on walkman (no iPod, sorry) and corporate decaf (as in Starbucks, baby!) wake my hubris up and relaxes my stupor… let me heave a sigh of 3-minute relief! Ah, decadent blues and toxic coffee!
Nah, after almost six months in the South Bay, I haven’t found my LA Woman (refer to The Doors) yet, but it’s nice to know that I am about to build my first “Bonfires for Peace” in the sunny state. This Saturday, I am meeting with Leonard B., a TALL dude (like, 6’ freakin’ 7” tall!) that I met at a meeting of Long Beach Area Peace Network (LBAPN, pronounced “Lah-bah-peen”), to draw the mechanics of the event. It’s just a matter of finding out what the City Council permit constitutes: Will they measure the height/length of the bonfire’s flame? Will they monitor the migration of the smoke? Will they measure the decibels of our loud ranting/poetry-reading big mouths? Will they charge us what they charge super-rich gods (eg millionaire nudists and Hollywood surfers) at San Onofre or Malibu? I am not sure (but I’m sure I ain’t gonna fork the park permit dough. Lah-bah-peen is gonna help me). REPEAT—a “Bonfires” event is upcoming at a Southern California (or South Bay) beach this summer.
(Yes, it’s sad though—why do beautiful gifts like “community convergence for peace” could only be had or savored within/around the radius of how far the life and death of a synthetic existence of malnourished debit cards and “hours-paid/dollars-gained” go? But, beat it, it’s bonfires time again!)
I digress… and excuse my oblique metaphorical blabbery. What I really want to say is, my California dreamin’ has started to outmaneuver its sweet nightmares, finally—which is good. Freeway blues have slowly “subsided” (in my mind, that is), humid is relatively a “breeze,” and 99 Cents stores have always worked okay for this working class budget (esp. that—as societal struggles go—the more you sort of hike monthly income, the more financial responsibilities jack up). What I’m trying to say is—I have learned to “take it as it comes,” this LA Life.
If you wanna ask me, what’s goin’ on though, I’ll tell you…
You see, sometimes detachment is the only shield against the apathy. This week, I covered a (hotel workers) march in Ocean blvd in downtown Long Beach, where single mothers fight for health insurance as they toil for $8.78 on a 26/hr workweek… then, 5,000 healthcare workers trooped to Manhattan Beach as they stagger in the crossfire of two warring unions… then, I talked with a Winchester man whose sister and her entire family perished on the backroads near Lake Skinner, wasted by drag-racing ghouls.
Can I just write about a debutante’s glee in West Hollywood or a celestial dance under blue skies in Huntington Beach? And relish the hangover kick of two, three shots of Seagram’s on a typical “day-in-the-life,” accompanied by old SNL clips or a silly movie called, “The Ten”? As Robert Plant quizzes me, “Do you remember laughter?”

BUT THIS is my calling. I write about misery and agony, and then I get paid with just enough to keep up with my car payment, few $$$ to loved ones back home in Manila, and few gallons to get me to—well, the next poetry reading.
(All the other niceties that I get, I get them via a Press Card—ie free St Bonaventure Hotel lounge mixed-drink or Universal City Plaza lobster dinner, or those Filipino gatherings that’re so-teeming with food. Bad, nobody has invited me to cover an event with a vegan/vegetarian “refreshments” yet, in case you’re wondering. People here are so chemical…)
Last Tuesday night (in the midst of curses and cusses vs my Wells Fargo account), I read a poem by Federico Garcia Lorca (“Casida Dela Mujer Tendida / Casida of The Reclining Woman”) and my work, “Looking for the Face of God” (“… I am a sinner, I am a lawbreaker, I am a poet, I am a rock and roll renegade, I am a blues traveler…”) at a Long Beach café called Viento y Agua—and then, voila! I found temporal salvation. As ever, poetry “saved my life tonight…”
Yes, as life goes—we chug in the blues and funk cocktail like an insane mix of cheap Bandolero tequila and Red Bull, throw up, and then relish the sweet soft journey of corporate poison down your throat. Fuck it, and then snap out it. Enjoy the day, until it gets fucked again, then enjoy it again—maybe ram your eardrums with The Who’s “Quadrophenia” (“reign on meeee!”), that’ll work.
At least, in this concrete neck of the woods called Los Angeles (aka City of Angels), we are fortunate--there are no vicious typhoons, hunger that eat up your soul, and bombs that rain like 1,000 doomsday meteors (where a daily life’s gig is the end of the world—you see people walking like Orwell’s zombies, but look, they’re laughing). In the midst of our sorrow, we find peace as we walk the cute little terrier down Lakeshore Park or Sunset Boulevard and actually believe that this little cute soul is “a human being” that could help us kick the Prozac, some soul that also deserves shrink time in moments of funk… or that, we can easily stride in a “healthcentric grocery” and fork $50 a pop of this and that herbal cure, “magic” stone, or “bliss” potion—and believe that these could actually save us from agony. But as long as we know how to balance our checkbook, right? Whatever the case, we are still very fortunate children of humanity, we “God’s trust-babies” of America.

WE WITNESS the contradictions—eerily numbing, poignantly cartoonish—and then, we learn to just shrug them off. Check these out.
An Angelina Jolie who travels oceans in the name of global peace and then wastes your entrails away with a super-revolver in a movie called “Wanted” (killing is fun, baby, it’s only a movie, anyways), or a government that takes away kids from mothers of a polygamous sect because we MIT/Harvard-educated globoparents know how to raise kids ourselves (maybe throw them a Grand Theft Auto PS in place of attended oatmeal breakfast because we are too busy finding ways to save the world?) … A government that spends gargantuan budget on scouting/hunting down sex predators online instead of scouting/hunting down dime-and-nickel monsters inside the reeking esophagus of corporate greed, such as BANKS (eg my Wells Fargo account… devilish smirk here).
One more. Effective the last day of June, the state of Kaleefornya (a-la The Terminator) requires drivers to use a hands-free device when making cellphone calls. It is something to the effect of what Kurt Vonnegut rambles about in his novel, "Timequake"-reminding us silly earthlings to be at sync with our common sense. When you're behind the wheels, use your hands to drive-don't text, don't chat, don't cook, don't dance, don’t have oral sex, don't draw, don't make coffee, don't do gardening, don't do Facebook, don't play the piano, don't JUST DON'T. Drive!
But since in a democratic society, when laws are supposedly "imposed"--or before these are actually implemented--we have to listen to everybody's say, uhh... interests. Like Vinnie Verizon, Monty Motorola and Holly Blackberry. So! San Diego and Oceanside say they'd impose a 30-day grace period before issuing tickets; Los Angeles opts to take things on a "case to case basis." But the California Highway Patrol (remember, CHiPs?) says, NO WAY! The agency believes the public has been accorded ample warning about the measure that was actually passed as a law was in 2006. We, people, have been given enough time to buy the technology needed to use a cellphone legally while driving.
I side with CHips. Last week, I dug it when a cop flagged down a Hummer-drivin’ dude near Beverly Hills, for a cellphone violation. The dude went, YOU MO$#@^?<>+fuxx??&=ytr%^B^TCH! I was laughing like crazy. The cop wasn’t listening—here’s $50 tix! Damn, why can't they just ban talking on a freakin' cellphone while driving, PERIOD!
Look, a family of three was killed in the backroads near Temecula and Murrieta, not by cellphone-wielding “busy bodies,” but by drag-racers. Or maybe, they were on their Blackberrys while racing the streets of Kaleefornya, right?
Few months ago, the rear end of our Buick got hit by a CSU-LB student--while we're at a traffic stop near I-605, because as the girl weepingly informed the cop, "I was talking to my girl friend on my cell, then-wham! What was that? Oh my God! I am so sorry, my bad..."
Two weeks ago, my internet connect got messed up--as soon as July 4 fireworks started gallivanting in the humid air. I don't owe Verizon any money but they can't seem to fix my connection in the next three days, then a week. Losing internet, surreal as it may sound, is like being thrown into a coma. It's also because my PC is also my "office," my bread-and-butter lifesource. It's like losing your car... losing your phoneline, losing your stove, losing your electric power. I wonder how prehistoric dudes survived at all, you know what I mean? Anyways, after an entire 6 days and 17 hours of on-and-off “call center” calls (India, Slovenia, Texas), we had our cable fixed. We asked for discount or whatever bill deduction. They said, no—instead, we have to pay $45 more for having it hooked back up. Should I… nah. Forget it. I am back to my Facebook, I forgive the world.
Learn to take it as it comes, I reckon.

ANYWAYS, let me digress again… GOOD NEWS this time.
My eldest daughter Donna, 22, achieved the highest grade in the just-concluded semester in her entire university in Manila. She's been offered a teaching job in the same school next year. Donna also holds a managerial job in an investment company in Manila's financial district--and supports herself to college (that’s the way she wants it—ah, these independent young souls!). She's into Economics, thank God--not a writing profession like her Dad.
And, before this week’s news desk deadline, I was able to nail down close to 5,000 words for my “Waiting for Winter” novel. And, also this week, I have successfully gathered four “diverse” women—Desiree (African American), Margo (Canadian), Anne (Jewish Irish, I think), and Mia (Hispanic American, I guess)—to start a writers group, that’ll be meeting at Heartwell Park near my Lakewood/Long Beach `hood.
On Sunday, I will be at Venice Beach to check out the legendary Beyond Baroque, then finally bring Marta The Nicer Osbourne at Sunset Boulevard’s Walk of Fame, and next weekend—an all-night “Cuba” party happens at Filipinotown (mojitos para libre!).
And—damn, it’s my 110th birthday already on the 23rd! I’m going buy myself a $6 Deep Purple Greatest Hits CD at Wal-Mart and a cool book called, “A Case of Exploding Mangoes” by Mohammed Hanif (check that out). And then, read a poem at an open mic (wherever is fine with me) after a dinner (that I’ll hopefully pay myself) down Vine Street.
For the meantime though, after reading this—don’t mind it. I am still cool, just venting. As ever, love good, live good, and eat only good food (I am sure you’re smart enough not to dine on free lobsters, in between decadent blues and toxic coffee)…
But see you—in bodies or spirits--wherever you are, at the Bonfires!

--Pasckie
4:55pm. 18 July 08
Lakewood CA

Seal Beach wandering spirits, 4th Street, Long Beach open mic souls + a comic schizo...

2008-06-14T15:21:00.000-07:00

... and some more about freakin’ profit-guzzling games of my California dreamin’

IT’S RELATIVELY a bit comfortable right now, less humid Thursday afternoon. Los Angeles County marshmallow toxicity, you know... I just consumed my second cup of instant Nescafe (under so-hot weather, right!) and a glazed cheese Dunkin’ donut—certainly a worst kind of caffeine and killer sugar to perk up a human system on midday but unforced indolence (after an overnight of writing) is a far stronger motivation right at this moment. (Sorry, my healthcentric friends—oblique vampires like yours truly need some synthetic poison to be able to withstand a cheeseball sunlight… It’s less violent than sucking someone else’s blood, you know what I mean?)
Anyways.
Tonight is Game 4 of the Celtics-Lakers finals. Don’t sweat it, guys—it’ll go the distance, 7 freakin’ profit-guzzling games! But I digress—I don’t want to wax cynical when enjoying a guilty pleasure. I just made 7 excuses not to cover downtown assignments today and tonight so I could sit back afront the boob tube and enjoy the game, with chillin’ cold Corona and lime comin’ handy.
I just filed my week’s “national edition” stories. “Bad” stories are always “good” stories, right? Air pollution in California, dirty seawaters in LA, careless hospitals in The Valley and Orange County… Oh, one good story—I profiled a Filipina marathoner, Rosemarie Jeanpierre, last week. A former obese who recently enjoyed cool coverage by LA Times, Shape, LA Sports & Fitness etc for losing lotsa weight—without adhering to Jenny Craig, the Atkins dude, and Weightwatchers. Her “secret”? Prayers. Faith. Nobody beats that, I guess.
Hey, have you somehow read Time’s Top 100 (world’s most influential) people? Miley Cyrus and Mariah Carey—“influential”? Or who the hell is Suze Orman to earthlings in Rio de Janeiro or New Delhi? Facebook may have thousands or millions of e-crazy subscribers—but, hello, the world is home to about 6.6 billion people, while Americans account for only less than 5 percent of that total. I mean, Pope Benedict XVI wasn’t even mentioned? Peter Gabriel over Bono? Mariah over Madonna? Induced stupidity, some editors are guilty of being so. Again, it’s all about freakin’ profit-guzzling game…
But then, although I don’t believe in most of my profession’s “findings” and “analyses,” I just gotta keep on taking them in. I still subscribe to and read my insanely diverse rags: Time, Entertainment Weekly, The Nation, and Rolling Stone—whatever you say. What? RS published itineraries of upcoming rock tours this summer but it didn’t include the road schedule of Journey, Heart and Cheap Trick. Why the hell publish “calendars” if it isn’t complete? It’s like printing a calendar without a June or September, you know what I mean? But you know what I mean—it’s all about advertising revenues. No dough to place an ad, no ink—sorry!
Again, it’s all about freakin’ profit-guzzling game… duh.
And then I sit down and ogle at the TV and check out the ads (in between Jeopardy! and “Law and Order”). All about cars, beers, cellphones, burgers and tacos, and soap-operatic NBA ads. These idiots are selling cars like people are eating them everyday—I mean, they sell these machines like you need 15 of them each week! So you are moping about some $4.00+ a gallon gasoline? C’mon—we are all helpless, hapless captives of our own shit.
And all these cellphones and Black, Blue, Red, Greenberries—where you get emails, GPS, weather report, voice mails, calculator, stock exchange report, The Hills, Hollywood gossip, Korean recipes, google, Jonas Brothers and Usher, naked women, birthday list of your pet dogs, and French-English dictionary etc in it. It’s amazing how we make fools out of ourselves. Wanna listen to 1 million songs all at the same time? Get an iPod. You forgot your birthday? Check your Blackberry. You forgot the direction to your apartment from a Wal-Mart at the next curb? Get a GPS. Wanna have sex? Get a… (no, I don’t want to go there.)
Effective July 1, the sunny state will be outlawing driving while on cellphones. Only now, yes. You see, I can’t really figure it out why people chat on cells while driving. Isn’t it hard to just pull over or wait till we get home or stop and then damn talk? The precursors of the cell – beepers were used by ER doctors when an, uhh, emergency situation occurs; walkie-talkies were valuable military/police gadgets, again—in time of emergencies. Well, it depends on how people define “emergency” these days. Maybe, yapping about the just-concluded ball game is one, and blabbering about some dude getting yanked by his GF is another, or a “mobile conference call” on which is the best condom there is…
I have been watching a lot of foreign movies (as though I actually stopped?) I just watched Clint Eastwood’s “Letters from Iwo Jima”—it’s one of the best Hollywood movies that I’ve seen! Uhh, sorry, I should be talking about foreign films? I watched a lot in 5 days, I forgot the titles (but one is called “Oedipus Alcalde,” a Colombian movie that’s based on a Gabriel Garcia Marquez play). Right now, I am finishing a Danish film—a bit melodramatic but it’s still engaging.
By the way, I read in my first Long Beach open mic a week ago (at Viento y Agua Café & Gallery in $4th Street, Long Beach) and it was a swell experience. Pretty cool crowd—reminded me of Beanstreets/downtown Asheville in 2003/04. Very enthusiastic, respectful, accepting multi-racial audience—a mix of Cal State U students, retired professors, war-hating beachbums, peace-loving nerds… there was even a self-proclaimed schizophrenic (performer number 1).
I also attended by first writers and readers clubs in nearby Seal Beach—although I am not very eager to attend the next sessions. I will check out another one this coming Wednesday though (via MeetUp), hoping that the vibe in there fits my acerbic girth.
But Seal Beach is a great place to chill… The beachfront—Main Street/Ocean Blvd—is adorned by cool and cozy small cafes, galleries, curio/craft stores and seafood restaurants. (There’s an O’Malley there as well, where I just enjoyed a seafood on cheese linguini.) The shore is clean (not part of the “dirty waters” survey, okay?) and well-provided by huge recycling garbage bins; the bathrooms are accessible (no portapotties) and parking isn’t a headache. It’s about 10 to 15 minutes drive from my house, just two turns. I hang out by the shore at least twice a week, the rest—in between desk deadlines—I spend at the nearby Barnes & Noble Café on Towne Square, Carson Blvd near the I-605 freeway exit .
I have been rereading/editing/organizing my 7-8 years body of work in Asheville—into a book (especially my “Like a Rolling Stone” column pieces). I hope to finish editing my poetry (chap)book by the end of this month, and then start a collection of short fiction. I just have to get these materials into a book before I can touch my long-sleeping novel.
Hmm, I still don’t dig my (Lakewood/Hawaiian Gardens) neighborhood but it’s okay—despite the $4 gasoline hassle, I can still hang out a bit by the beach and a coffeeshop, read my poems at a cool open mic. I hope to find me a writing pad somewhere (possibly in Long Beach)—that’s my target for the summer—and drive my head and spirit into finishing my long-stalled books before the year is over.
During downtime, I surf my Facebook and I am diggin’ it (although I don’t know how to post blog entries in there). I love all my 23 Facebook friends in there, especially Katie Kasben’s ever-so-warm smiles. (So you are in China...) I start to hate Craigslist for all its insane/pesky clicks-to-sex sites crap and stuff. And MySpace has lost its punch, whatever it is.
Once I am able to network myself with the beach spirits right here at South Bay, then I’ll start “The Indie of South Bay” and then kick off the inaugural Traveling Bonfires in Southern California. I met a few Long Beach-based peace activists lately, I think that’s a promising start. Tomorrow afternoon, I am meeting a Filipino-American singer-songwriter, Melody del Mundo (who fronts a Socal band called Stella’s Notch)—hopefully, we’ll strike a deal, and then plan a series of collaborative shows… I may also gather a few poets at Viento y Agua for a peace-themed poetry reading in a few weeks or so.
Okay, it’s almost 18 past 4pm now. I need to go get some groceries, and prepare for the Celtics-Lakers Game 4… For now, forget about some freakin’ profit-guzzling game. We need to loosen up a bit or we’re going to fade away.
So, live good, love good, and eat only good food (but no Nescafes and glazed cheese donuts though for you)!
Gracias!

--Pasckie
4:19pm. Thursday, 12 June 08.
Lakewood CA

Looking for the dude who bit the dog, what’s up with my next story—ah, wondering about Long Beach this summer

2008-05-17T04:23:00.000-07:00

THIS `HOOD is called Lakewood. However, there’s no lake—there’s no woods. None at all. A morose stack of accordion bungalows is all that I see—boiling like cheap frijoles on 100 degrees temp. By the way, this neck of the woods is also called Hawaiian Gardens. But—no voluptuous hips on hula out here. Don’t get ideas. And the palms trees have dried down, the humidity is sticky as Elmer’s Glue, and—need I repeat—no “waters” here. (I mean, there’s running water on the sink and shower, but you know what I mean, right?)
That’s okay though. After June, I’d renegotiate with my publishers and then, I’m heading to Long Beach, Laguna Beach, Newport Beach, Venice Beach—any of those beaches, I don’t care. That is, if they don’t relocate me to San Francisco head office.
I am about 7 to 10 miles to the nearest beachfront community—that’s what I need right now. My current living situation is free by way of a supposedly “employment perk” that I hooked up early this year with Philippine News—to handle the newspaper’s Southern California bureau. The house is relatively nice—with three rooms and front/backyard (with a small lemon tree teeming with—you know, lemons). But I feel I need some “sweetly messed up crib” like the one we had at 61 Dunwell Av in West Asheville—or a neighborhood that’s evokes Fells Point in Baltimore, Adams Morgan in DC, east village in Manhattan or, well—Asheville of 7 years ago.

I HAVE been filing an average of 5 to 7 news stories a week—yet I don’t really feel like I’m actually “writing.” You know what I mean? It’s obligatory, bread-and-butter writing right now. There’s no pressure yet there’s no action either. It’s just that—chugging along, cruising by, getting over things. No blood spilling over. It can be boring.
Uhh—I should say, I get to write stories that I can call relatively newsworthy and relevant but I still feel that I haven’t really maximized that “journalist edge,” you know I mean? This morning, a Las Vegas businessman/investor who was allegedly scammed of $2.4 million by his supposedly compadres called me with his story (apparently, he wants me to write the story). And then I got an invite to cover the culmination of “coast to coast fundraise road trip” in San Diego. And then, I wrote the headline story for this week’s issue—about a super-generous Filipino community leader in San Jose who pleaded no contest to a funds “juggling” charge. Then, there’s my analysis of Nevada’s housing crisis and how Filipinos are coping with it—for New America Media (internet magazine based in San Francisco). Then my usual ICE/immigration issue reportage. And there’s this Asian vote event that I was in a night ago in Little Tokyo…
Last Wednesday, I was interviewed again (by Odette Keeley) for New America Media’s radio program. It’s about recession, housing situation—and how Asians or Filipinos cope with the problem. How do we cope with recession? I don’t feel it—financially, I am better than when I was in Asheville, so I don’t know. (As long as I can pay my bills on time, or at least one car payment behind, and you see, I haven’t touched my ramen noodles in “years”—so I guess, I don’t know what recession is all about.) But then, we assume a “professional persona” once in a while so we just say whatever.
(Sometimes, I wonder—are these people that I am interviewing “bullshitting” me or what? Are they just being “professional”? Sometimes, when I’m interviewed myself, I just mumble words on radio I don’t know what the hell I was mumbling about during interviews—because I never listened to my radio interviews at all, not once. I tell myself, maybe the interviewer is telling herself now—ah this Pasckie should stick to writing, I can’t understand what the crap he’s yapping about!)
Okay. Hey, two weekends ago, I was in Las Vegas to cover a dance-benefit at Bally’s. You know, a lavish dance benefit for poor people of the Philippines at Bally’s Casino & Hotel’s ballroom. Go figure. DANCE BENEFIT FOR POOR PEOPLE AT BALLY’S CASINO. (They will hate me once they google me and read all this crap that I am rambling about.)
Anyways, I will be back at the Sin City on June 28—to cover the world title boxing bout between Manny “Pacman” Pacquiao (Filipino) and David Diaz (Mexican) at Mandalay Bay. And I might treat myself (on my 112th birthday)—and watch Journey, Heart and Cheap Trick there—on July 18, at the same venue. That is, if I don’t catch these guilty pleasures of mine on July 16 at Irvine. (Journey’s current vocalist is a Filipino, by the way.)
Two days ago, I was at these two boxers’ press conference at Westin Bonaventure Hotel in downtown. I realized that it could’ve been more cool if I just stayed at home and stared at the ceiling. I listened to Bob Arum tell reporters that “this bout is the best that I ever handled”—I wonder, politicians will make good pro boxing promoters, or the other way around.

WHAT’S WRONG? I am not saying that I hate my job. Okay? I am not saying that. This job pays real money. You see, I have been writing without an income for so many years, mind you (while living in Asheville). Then suddenly, I have a real income every 15 days! So you know how that feels.
But I know what’s wrong. I need to at least replicate a bit of what I left in Asheville. I realized I left a lot, a huge chuck of my heart, in Asheville. But don’t get me wrong—it’s not like I’d return to Asheville when given an opportunity, that’s now what I’m saying. Besides, I sincerely believe that Asheville isn’t the Muse that I found up in the Appalachians almost 9 years ago anymore. When I left last fall, it was like I was saying “goodbye” to someone that I love so much because the relationship wasn’t working anymore. I still love “her” but it’s just not working anymore. So I moved on. Or I said, I have to take a break… I love you but I need to think, figure things out.
But I miss the way it was. Right now, I am hoping to find that Muse again who’d shelter my untiring, hardheaded love. Or maybe I may reconcile with a lost love? I don’t know, I just don’t know. I need to nurture a newfound love within but it seem to have lost the magic—how to actually do that. Tired, aging, midlife crisis?

THERE’S SOME cool spots in Long Beach that could ignite some fire in me, I mean—poetry, that’s what I mean. But something keeps me. Deep inside, I feel I know how to start the spark—but I don’t know how to get things started.
I remember when I first hanged out in downtown Asheville—I just planted my skinny little butt at Malaprop’s, surveyed humanity (ah those round hips, crazy dreadlocks, and friendly Meg Ryan smiles)… then I strode to Beanstreets two blocks down, and read a poem or two. Then, I suddenly belonged.
People on my `hood seemed like spiral creatures unmindful of human intimacy. I get a few zealous knocks on my frontdoor—mostly eager Mexicans who demand cash for LA Times subscriptions and Russian-accented gringos who deal me “all kinds of meat, hom!” On the sides, I find a bit of oblique consolation and 25-minute refuge by shopping at 99 Cents Store and chowing away at all imaginable Filipino food at DJ’s—renting out DVDs at a $1/vendo machines or, most of the time, I get pretty cool stuff at the public library (the last one I got, it was an erotic Brazilian flick with Alice Braga on it). But what I usually do, I eat and watch movies a lot these days—my tummy is starting to bulge that I am about to metamorphose into a Body Snatcher (you know the “invasion of” guys?) and I begin to act like a perpetually stressed-out Al Pacino.
Just kidding, I am fine.

I DON’T know. I really don’t know what to write or what I am trying to say here. All I know is I got a lot of shit in my head—good and bad shit—that I’d like to write down. But I can’t seem to get started. I posted an ad at Craigslist—looking for a place near the beach that I can use as my “writing space” at least three days a week—but there’s no response yet. I really need to write.
I might just’ve to make a short trip to some deserted community somewhere, or maybe a weekend at Santa Fe. I really want to see some action—without having to get crossfired at a Crips-Bloods war somewhere.
I just scored a cool new CD by actress Zooey Dechanel, she’s really good at singing you know, and the Eagles’ “Long Road from Eden” (or something like that), that includes a poignant anti-war instrumental by Glenn Grey. As a consolation, I just laughed my boredom away with a Rowan Atkinson movie, after the Lakers-Jazz game 6. Good, right?
Oh well, I don’t know. I am sorry—I can’t blame in case you email me back with, “Please, take me off this email group” or something. You deserve some peace. I am whining here when Myanmar and China are grieving, and there’s two or three or four random shootings again in east LA. Shame on me—my day’s deepest discourse is, “Ah, Casey is a lot better Affleck than Ben, indeed!” and “I gotta buy tofu and 3 pounds of salmon and six-pack of coconut juice at Ranch’s tomorrow, I should not forget that!”
Forgive me, despite my frozen funk—I must say: Live good, love good, and eat only good food!

--Pasckie
4:08am. 17 May 08.
Lakewood CA

UPDATE (03.04.08): Freeway hassle, Los Angeles hustle, and the rustle of afternoon rain on late winter

2008-03-04T16:25:00.000-08:00

... or rainy days and Mondays in the life of a journalist, nth time around...

IT’S DISTURBINGLY familiar—this LA freeway jaunt. From where we live, Lakewood (aka Hawaiian Gardens, northeast of the city), off to I-605 to Sta Ana Freeway to I-5 to downtown Los Angeles... it reminds me of Manila’s main thoroughfare. Late afternoon traffic is less heavier than New York City (ie NJ Turnpike and/or through Holland Tunnel across Hudson River) but the drive here, across two or three freeways, is alarmingly funky. Not really heavy—just funky.
It’s a good thing that my photographer (for Philippine News), Philip The Morris (who drives, of course), is a funky little critter behind the wheels, as well. Move over, Nascar rats! He can chat about the practical wisdom behind Shaq being traded to the Suns and why Kobe should run for President, while negotiating the freakin’ road, 85mph. That’s why so far, Los Angeles becomes a bit manageable—I mean, the overhyped LA traffic is all overhyped. It’s okay. I am still walkin’ without crutches and my vertebrae column is still in-tact, thank God!
Anyways, it’s been almost two months since my last rambling-update. There’s a lot of stuff and things to write about—beyond my obligatory one-story/each-day news/(feature) coverages. I know that this kind of coverages are the ones that I’ve been wanting to do again (just like when I was very young, 100 years ago), but it’s certainly not a picnic. There’s a lot of reason to seek rest and refuge, ease and escape, through my poetry...
A new friend said, “There’s a lot of poetry here... just like Asheville” as she walked/toured me along Alamitos and Broadway in Long Beach, pass by the poetry dives at Viento y Agua Gallery and Portfolio Cafe. If only she knew how much, how deep “poetry” meant at this emotional juncture of my so-called journey. I really need to read poems these days. It’s not that there’s no place to do just that—it’s just that this journalist life has been taking a lot of my time lately.

A WEEKEND ago, a distressed father fatally shot his wife and 3 of his children before gunning himself to death at the affluent Yorba Linda neighborhood in Orange County. This family started life in Manila and relentlessly pursued the American dream here, found temporary comfort in a city that was listed by CNN as the 21st best place in the US to live, and the richest US city (as reported by the Census data showing median household income of $121,075 higher than any other city in 2006).
As I worked my wearied fingers on the keyboards (to file my story), I remembered my youngest daughter’s beautiful innocence almost 10 years ago. An angel, a gift of life. How could a father kill his own child—how could they struggle to fit in a wealthy little city (birthplace of Nixon) and then languish in financial sorrow when no one was looking?
A few minutes later (after I downed three Coronas), I got a cellphone call from a colleague (who writes for LA Times)—a bothered man shot and killed his own mother in Baldwin Park in central San Gabriel Valley region. That week, gangland-related drive-by shootings claimed lives in Glassell Park and Cypress Park in the northeast. There’s more...
I saw and wrote about all these grim images before, many years ago. I tried to turn my back (or my mind) far away (the “farthest” that I could reach was Asheville)—but at the dead of night, the words come spilling back. In the same way that I tried to run away almost 20 years ago, in India, while the Marcos dictatorship was murdering my people. At the dead of night, I heard the words—so I went home. It’s impossible to run away from your spirit.
Two days ago, at a news conference (in LA’s Philippine consulate) I asked a Cabinet secretary (from the Philippines) about the issue of brewing political tempest in Manila— disgruntled Filipinos in city streets all over the Philippines calling for President Gloria Arroyo’s immediate resignation. As ever, there was no concrete response regarding the resolution of recent accusations of governmental corruption emanating from the anomalous US$329.5 million ZTE-National Broadband Network deal. The alleged scam, implicated, among others, her husband or “First Gentleman” Mike. The Cabinet man’s response was, “Point to me a government in the world that is not subjected to criticism or allegations of wrongdoing, that’s normal. It comes with the job.” [refer to www.philippinenews.com for my stories]
When I watch “new” politicians—from those back home, to Obama, to Hillary—and how they mouth the word, “change,” I sink in a mix of distant apathy and bitter attachment. I can’t say, “Oh yeah, I heard it before” – yet, I’d like to hope and wish that maybe they’d be able to save some father from shooting his own kids, some kid shooting other kids, a son shooting his own mother, and people shooting people somewhere.
I can’t run anymore and say, “I hate the world, I hate politicians, I hate...” and then seek refuge atop a mountaintop or away in an island, and speak love and freedom. I belong where wounds are cut deeper, where wounds are healed, as well. Somehow, although tired after a “day in the job,” I feel satisfaction that my words got out there... for people to read. I had three stories on the front page of this week’s issue, in all of our big city editions: East Coast/NYC, south CA/LA, and Bay Area.
Two weeks ago, Kenneth Kim, a reporter for Korea Times interviewed me about the “strength of the Asian vote in the coming US presidential elections,” same topic when I briefly talked at New America Media’s radio show (by Odette Keeley), then a young filmmaker from UCLA chatted with me why I moved from Asheville to Lakewood (LA County) for Current TV.
I asked Marta The Nicer, “Did they believe what I just said?” And then, I put “Saw 4” on DVD—and chomp away a bar of Reese, while I fill up a box with books and Sports Illustrated to send Duane, my son, in Manila. Few minutes after that, I prepared Marta a soup of chicken sulphur soup and two cloves of lemon (grown in our backyard) for her recurring fever and fixed myself a glass of rum.
It’s just a day in the life.
Well, Marta The Nicer O is a bit indisposed right now—for almost two weeks now. Flu season. She hasn’t been working since we got here—she might work if she gets bored but I think she’s okay. She watches a lot of “Law and Order” and stuff, and eats a lot of cereal Ks and drinks, as usual, a lot of soda. But she’s not going to smoke anymore.

LAST WEEK, we drove to Huntington Beach and saw the waves crashing through the marina. Serenity, peace. Then we snaked through communities south of the 105 and west of Long Beach... the South Bay or Beach Cities: Manhattan Beach, Hermosa Beach, Redondo Beach, El Segundo, the Palos Verdes Peninsula, and Torrance.
And then, to those so-called “Little Manilas” – Artesia, West Hollywood, Anaheim, Carson, Cerritos and West Covina near Los Angeles, and a tour at Filipinotown near Echo Park. I wrote an article about this oldest this town Fil-Ams call Hi-Fi or P-town. Many Filipino-American families began purchasing homes and establishing businesses in the area beginning from the 1940s, shifting away from the Little Tokyo area in the 1920s and the Bunker Hill area later due in part to intense racial segregation in those years.
These days, those Filipinos are wealthier than ever. I even met one with a mansion in Beverly Hills and a huge seaside perch in Huntington Beach. I saw in their eyes the remnants of mud from a summer’s tailend typhoon back home. They can’t hide them—though they struggle to.
As ever, I remain a witness. I detach myself from the faces and places, and just remember the moments, and write them. After I filed the story, my day is over. Tomorrow is another story.
But I am still here the way I was. The way I was when I was still in Asheville. I still cook a lot, and I watch a lot of DVD movies, and voraciously attack the library for classic films (FREE), I still score bargain books to restart a library.
This Wednesday night, I will be interviewing a Filipino boxer (Manny “The Pacman” Pacquiao) who’s fighting a Mexican for a third world crown on the 15th (and then make agonizing Filipinos feel joy at a moment’s time), with his trainer Freddie Roach and manager Bob Arum in Hollywood. Then that night, I’ll don a suit and tie, to attend a lawyers banquet at The Beverly Hills and Bungalows where a US Army (Filipino) General (Tony) Taguba talks about the war and stuff. (He’s the military dude who investigated torture allegations by the US military).
Lots of stuff and things. Lots of Mexicans, lots of Filipinos. Lots of food to eat (I had a Japanese lunch in Long Island the other day). Lots of Disneyland, lots of Irvine, lots of Inglewood and Kobe Bryants.
Lots of violence, blood, pain. Lots of humanity.
Lots of Los Angeles. Lots of love, lots of hate. Lots of work. Lots of LA Lakers. The City of Angels. (And I haven’t even heard about Arnuhld.)

—Pasckie
Lakewood CA
1:49am

UPDATE (01.18.08): From Sin City to the City of Angels, and other sweet distractions

2008-01-18T21:12:00.000-08:00

LIFE wafts like unexpected rain on late winter. When they do happen, you just have to dig the “disguised misery” or “inadvertent blessing”—and enjoy. It's all good--in the long run. That, pretty much summarizes my most recent journey...
So this is final—we (me and Marta The Nicer) are leaving Sin City USA (aka Las Vegas) next week, Jan 24—for the City of Angels, Los Angeles. My publishers/managers deemed it “economically-smarter” (?) that they move me to LA, to (editorially) help handle our south California bureau. For those who don’t know it yet (as though it matters)—I currently write for Philippine News, the oldest/largest, nationally-circulated Filipino/Asian-American newspaper in the US. (Yup, I gotta say that... it sure makes me feel better. This is the BEST Filipino paper outside of the islands.)
Surely, this’d be a LOT better—higher pay, wider coverage, “better” environment. Additional perk: Free housing and utilities in the next five months—after which, I can renegotiate my contract for an even better deal. Or they could fire me, too, of course.
What's good all-in-all is, I get to escape the incendiary neons of Las Vegas. All these (almost) three months of “fear and loathing” in the desert, I kept on wrangling and whining to (mostly, of course) Marta, “I don’t belong here in Vegas, I don’t want to stay here longer than a few months. I don’t know who Celine Dion is, and I can’t afford The Blue Man Group—we just have to move later... or I cave in.”
What do you know... We are moving at the Lakewood neighborhood of LA County, 36mins to Venice Beach (of the Doors birthing), and 42mins to Santa Barbara (of the coolest Cali wine)—yup, we are a few minutes to the freakin’ ocean. Who cares about Hollywood’s Sunset Blvd; I relate more to the subversive romanticism and risky exuberance of Echo Park.
People, I gotta see “real” people—the nonstop activity, the quiet exhilaration, the pesky exuberance, the probable dangers, the barenaked humanity... these are the rough textures and sweet distractions of life and living that keep us writers writing.

REDEMPTION comes in the form of my recent work as journalist. It feels good to be practicing journalism again as a Correspondent or Reporter. I get to interview important city and county officials and (some Asian-American Hollywood) personalities—especially during these recent presidential party nominations race.
Next week (Wed, Jan 23rd), I will talk about my views/responses in re Asian/Pacific Islander/ethnic minority “voting block power” in the coming elections in a radio program interview called, "Views from the Ethnic Media." It’s a pre-recorded show that’s produced and sponsored by New America Media (http://news.newamericamedia.org), based in San Francisco. This is an offshoot of my continuing coverage of the Democratic Party stump/caucuses/primary (including the headline story in this week’s Philippine News issue—www.philippinenews.com). I think it’s webcast. (Then, next month, I will talk before Southeast Asian studies students at UCLA.)
There is also an interesting coverage of the WBC super featherweight fight between Filipino Manny Pacquiao and Mexican Juan Manuel Marquez on March 15 at the Mandalay Bay Resort & Casino in Las Vegas.
What’s good about writing on-deadlines is I get to motivate myself to write ceaselessly. I’d like to pursue at least 1,000 words a day. If I could attain that level, then it’d be easier to get into the right, apt work groove—like, writing lengthier stuff like novels and screenplays.

MEANTIME, I am also looking forward to scouting/cruising my new `hood—for artists/poets subgroupings, especially at Venice Beach. There should be lots of cool cafes in my Lakewood community, as well. Meantime, Frisco is just a four hours drive—pretty much like Asheville to Durham.
Vegas has a small poets community but they’re intensely divided between slammers (those who memorize their work and exuberantly flash fingers like Snoop Dogg) and traditional readers (those who don’t memorize their stuff and just mumble onstage, like bored turkeys). The slammers inhabit Ceasar's Palace's Poetry Cafe ($5 to get in, $7 Corona--no PBRs, sorry); the "old-fashioned" readers bring it home at ReJAVAnate Cafe down east of Flamingo Road. But, don't get me wrong--there's pretty cool poets here, too. This is where I also met Mary L. Carter, the poetry organizer/”poetry mistress” who is also a professional photographer—she’s my on-call fotog for my Vegas coverages.
So here I am, preparing to move--packing my books and DVDs again in boxes—in between writing my new Philippine News submissions. Also, I am back to selling stuff, all my furniture (that we bought when we got here) via Craigslist. The house that we are settling in in LA is furnished so I don’t have any need to bring these with us on the road, and I’m not keen with renting a storage to stock them up.
Ah, life keeps on rollin’. For sure, later this year, I will visit Manila. Who wants to visit the islands with me?
Well, that’s my update for now... As ever, love good, live good, and eat only good food!
GRACIAS!
--Pasckie
8:09 pm.
Las Vegas, Nevada

HAPPY CHRISTMAS: Ramen Noodles Wisdom in Las Vegas

2007-12-25T17:34:00.000-08:00

HAPPY CHRISTMAS to one and all... wherever you are, whatever situation you are in, whoever you’re with—PEACE AND LOVE TO Y’ALL!

SO THIS is Christmas and what have we done?
Well, I’m just about back on the groove of doing things, “madman” things, again... Hubris and stupor are kept on the background, and life starts to rock anew. Thank God.
To those who don’t know it yet, me and my friend Marta The Nicer are now officially “two ramen noodles months old” in Las Vegas this week. Fear and loathing in the desert, exactly. In fact, it’s more “loathing,” in the past few weeks before the holidays. My last attempt at reconciling with my next-of-kin (by way of my brother) – devout Catholics, dogmatic “Filipinos” – in Nevada and the West Coast failed, miserably. For the nth time, I felt like I was trapped in the Grand Inquisition. (So you know now why I named my column, “Like a Rolling Stone” – “no direction home,” indeed. “Home” is Manila and Asheville, that’s right—and, one day, I’ll be home again.)
But it’s over now, the loathing—I mean. I am “free” again.
Now, the good news.

IN THE past month, I have been kept busy—frantically writing (like my gonzo hero, Hunter S Thompson?)—this time, as journalist for Philippine News (PN), covering Las Vegas, Reno and Los Angeles, up to most of South CA. PN is the oldest (47 years old) and largest Filipino-American broadsheet newspaper that is circulated all over the US and elsewhere. We are talking about four million Filipinos in America—although non-Filipinos read/subscribe to the paper, as well.
This week, I scored a scoop, when I obtained a 23-year old court document that listed all seven accused Catholic priests who raped/molested a (then-) 16 year old parishioner, Rita Milla, in LA (from 1978 to 1984). Celebrity lawyer Gloria Allred handles Ms Milla’s case. All the other papers and news bureaus—including CNN and Los Angeles Times—didn’t report about details of the other accused, esp. the full names/identities of all seven priests. Covered-up in more than three decades, until Milla/Allred won last Dec 12. The Catholic Archdiocese of LA is the biggest and most powerful in America—for 23 years, this case got buried. For details, www.philippinenews.com
One of my bigger stories also includes coverage of the 3-city (LA, DC, Frisco) media briefing on race relations, sponsored by the New America Media. This came in the light of a column piece that came out in a Frisco-based Korean paper with the title, “Why I Hate Blacks.” This developed as more blacks-Hispanics gang riots envelope LA; two weeks ago, another shooting in the predominantly Latino/Afro-American neighborhood in Mojave, north Vegas rocked the city. I am currently trying to gather data for an in-depth story on Asian/American gangs (eg Sigue Sigue Sputnik, OXO etc).

BUT IT’S not all police beat or rape cases for me though. I am also covering shows at The Strip—right at the heart of Sin City, USA. I just interviewed a Filipino performer, Ciara Sotto, who’s headlining a multi-million dollar dinner gig at The Sky this February. And I’m doing a review of another show at Flamingo’s next week. Meantime, I have been talking/interviewing “sequined demigods” on Valentinos, Dries Van Notens and Comme Des Garcons, dining at Smith & Wollensky or Wynn Las Vegas—for those “obligatory profile stories.” (I just had a free dinner of spicy miso lotus ‘chips’ with tuna, excluding Dom Perignon, at Nobu at Hard Rock, the most expensive sushi restaurant in Vegas, mind you. Tell me how much is a dinner’s worth at Nobu for one person? $350. I could’ve just asked for that cash to cover for our late car payment, you know...)
This “high stakes/high life” is so “unreal and absurd” in my own little impoverished world but then, just watching these incendiary spirits, spending few hours with them, offer me many ideas to write about. (I may have an entire collection of “desert stories” before I even finish my novel.)
On the “glamour” side of my new, reacquired journalist’s life—I’m also trying to nail down an LA interview with Metallica’s lead guitar, Kirk Hammett, and fashion designer Monique Lhullier—both half-Filipinos. (But, honestly, I’m more into the Asian gangs story.) Also, I just did a two-part “Asian gamblers in Vegas” story, and I am hoping to write a 3-part “homeless souls and aging hippies at Venice Beach, CA” series by end of January.
Please check all these stories on www.philippinenews.com For unedited versions, I’ll be cataloguing them in a separate blog site.

TODAY IS Christmas, right?
Believe it or not, I almost forgot. I am here listening to The Who’s Roger Daltrey admonishing, “We don’t get fooled again!” Marta The Nicer is at work—at the Popcorn Chicago store at the Stratosphere Casino/Hotel (sometimes she’s at Circus Circus and Bellagio’s). She just called saying that she just passed through The Strip’s traffic, no sweat. Marta doesn’t get lost anymore...
We now live in a quieter apartment complex in the west side of Vegas, beside Southpoint and Silverton casinos, overlooking the freeway leading to California. I can see the sun set from the east... Believe it or not, I wasn’t allowed to hang old Traveling Bonfires posters in our old apartment that my brother got me when we arrived here; I wasn’t even allowed to wear my earrings! My relatives actually believe that I lost my religion and joined a voodoo cult in Asheville! But now, man—I just posted/hanged Bonfires posters on our walls. Very cool!
Oh well, I was thinking of spending my New Year’s night at Fremont/downtown’s block party which will feature The Doobie Brothers and Bangles, but poor as I am, I can’t even afford the $60 entry fee. (I get paid on a monthly basis—which will come first week of Jan.) No problem—I am anticipating a better year.
The publishers and editor of Philippine News expressed interest in having me as the paper’s Las Vegas and LA bureau editor (good/better salary plus free housing). So maybe when I get paid, I can at least watch magician Lance Burton at Monte Carlo or the Cirque du Soleil. But no Nobu dinners for me, please.

I HAVE been immersing myself, as well, with the local poetry scene. I read poetry at a small cafe on the eastern side of the city, called ReJAVAnate Cafe, every Tuesday and Sunday nights (when I am free). I met pretty cool souls out here—diverse spirits, hear that? Two of the local poetry organizers, Mary L Carter and Megan Milligan, also contribute photographs to my PN coverages, by the way...
But the scene is kinda caught in turbulence lately, nothing serious though. There’s been heated discussion between the “poets who slam or poets who memorize their stuff”/eg performance poets against those who simply climb up the stage and read their stuff (like yours truly). Flash vs content? The tempest came up following a recent local version of Slamfest at ReJAVAnate Cafe and Caesar’s Palace—when organizers disqualified poets who read their work.
Passions, you know.
Whatever the case, I am organizing three Traveling Bonfires shows by the first quarter of 2008: a “peace-themed” poetry reading at ReJAVAnate Cafe, a poetry reading with Asian/American (and American) students at UNLV, and a rock gig somewhere (most likely in Alameda near LA).
Depends on how/when money comes, I will definitely resurrect The Indie by late Jan or early Feb—but more of a “selectively national, pulp rag.” I already hooked up with an inexpensive printing press based in LA’s Chinatown.
In between, I plan to spend at least seven days at a Navajo reservation near Flagstaff AZ or at a beach flat near Ventura County in South CA . All these drunken neons and spaced-out lights of Las Vegas can overpower sometimes, you know. A little break should help.

LASTLY, before I forget, I’d like to congratulate my friend, Sarah Blackman (AKA Ophir Drive) for landing in Billboard’s chart for adult contemporary, adult top 40 (for 2007). Imagine, an act that I used to book (in New York, and lastly in Durham NC) made it to Billboard? At number 9 on that category, via her “Harmonic Half Life” piece; other “stars” on the top ten: (3) Mary Chapin Carpenter, (5) Suzanne Vega, (6) Ricky Skaggs & Bruce Hornsby, (7) Alanis Morissette, (10) Josh Groban.
Cool!
So! As ever, live good, love good, and eat only good food.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!
--Pasckie
Desert Meadows Apartments, Unit #244
Ensworth Street, Las Vegas NV
5:22pm / 12.25.07

UPDATE (10.31.07)—Arriving in Las Vegas, and why the “lights” died...‏

2007-11-01T00:04:00.000-07:00

TWO AND A HALF weeks in Las Vegas. “Lifelessly by-the-books,” comfy but not “warm.” Vegas is no Asheville—not an iota of resemblance at all. 70s temp is a different dry-humidity, motorists are more moronic than New York City cabbies, fun is synthetic and distant, women are “made up,” but food is better (because there’s more Filipino dishes out here...) and DVDs at public libraries are free.
More significantly though, I don’t worry about bills out here—at least, for the time being. No bills and great food, that kinda save my life here so far. But I am still “blank” as spent Uzi shells.
Me and Marta The Nicer Osborne are wombed in a fairly-cozy apartment building unit on Fairfield Avenue, behind Stratosphere Casino & Hotel on Las Vegas Blvd—where The Strip and downtown’s Fremont is located. Our landlady is an 80-year old Greek matron with a busy mouth that could rival Donald Duck on any given bingo weekend. Most of our neighbors/apartment-mates are casino employees who come and go from work with whatever costume they are in (spaceman, chicken lady, Elvis, magician’s apprentice etc).
We checked out the “gleam and glitter” on our third night—that dancing fountain thingy that gyrates to some pop ditty like “Copa Cabana” and bejewelled damsels and aging dudes on coats-and-ties. Boring. I collected 35 hooker cards from pesky Mexicans who lined up the streets, handing out x-postcards to whoever (including cops)—that’s what I did. Mind you, the four-day road trip from NC to NV was more exciting, peaceful, and cool—despite a little distraction from a tornado’s tailend as we entered the Arkansas border from Memphis. Honestly, I enjoyed our quiet bar night – salmon madrid and margarita – at our stopover at Tecumcari, New Mexico more than my first night at The Strip.
I am still under-the-weather, kinda feverish – not sure if it’s about fatigue or just “unhappiness” – but I am not really feeling well as I write this. We had our necessary systems (phone, cable TV, internet connect) hooked up yesterday, and this little apartment is already equipped with the obligatory peripherals and stuff... the only concern is, I start to get bored. Psychosomatic attack?
I know what’s coming though even before we started the journey—when I am around my family. They are, as ever, willing to feed me or provide for my basic needs (rent, food etc)—but that’d mean, I should allow myself to surrender my “freedom,” while I am here. My elder bro calls me three-four times a day (apart from seeing us once a day), just to check if I cooked the rice correctly, I had taken my vitamins on the right time, and I used the appropriate shampoo for my balding head.
I haven’t really started writing or anything. Haven’t got anything to say about The Indie yet—except that, in case you are submitting articles, please time it for Christmas and New Year readership. Still uninspired. There’re so many things to write but nothing is coming out of my head at this juncture. My main concern right now is how to elude my brother so I could at least have one or two days “breathing time” for myself. I have a new friend, Jeanne, who lives in a huge house with swimming pool and hot tub, two miles away—who offered me reclusion in case I need to run away from my kin—but I am kinda sickly and weak to even make a phone call. Truth is, me and The Nicer have planned to dress up one night and just spend hours inside casinos or take off to LA (we haven’t made up an alibi yet though). (My sis in law Rezy is concerned that I may get so bored, I’d escape back to Asheville so she bought me a classy-looking computer desk.)
So what has been going on with our lives since we “left” Asheville? We have been eating a lot, basically—that’s what we’ve been doing. Tomorrow, I have an appointment with my immigration lawyer. I just saw NBA games, I have seven DVD (library) movies to watch, I am not sleepy.
No beer until I stop taking my Rubitussin, till the coughing is over. Ah, Las Vegas.
--Pasckie
11:57pm. Wednesday.
1922 Fairfield Avenue, Apt 205
Las Vegas, NV 89102
Tel # (702) 629 7124

A THANK YOU LETTER TO ASHEVILLE: The Traveling Bonfires bade goodbye, The Indie struggles on‏

2007-10-04T13:02:00.000-07:00

IN BEHALF of all the beautiful bodies and wonderful spirits that comprise the Traveling Bonfires and Loved by the Buffalo Publications (publisher of The Indie, among others), me—and my ever-dedicated comrade and friend Marta Osborne—extends our sincerest and deepest thank-you to one and all for your support and help in the last six (almost) seven years of our life and love in Asheville.
The Traveling Bonfires – mother and parent of the “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park,” and instigator of countless shows and events in pursuit and celebration of global peace and multicultural community in Western North Carolina and elsewhere – travels on to a new community in the West Coast.
It has been really unbearably hard for us to financially sustain our physical existence in this ethereal mountain city. The sad signs started appearing following my son’s near-death experience in Manila almost three months ago – the question that most of us, new immigrants from poorer countries, have to confront like a cat’s blank stare: Pursue the romantic, quixotic madness or solve a practical, food-to-mouth reality.
I am heading to the West Coast (Las Vegas and Los Angeles, where most of my relatives and people are) and focus on stabilizing the financial life of all these what I call, “sublime madnesses,” as well as deal with the “legality” of my immigration situation in America.
Despite the departure of the Traveling Bonfires—and its partner women project, Third World Asheville—The Indie will, hopefully, just have a two or three months break or sabbatical. I will still continue to publish this little stubborn paper in Asheville—in absencia, while I hunt for budget where they usually are—and have a local friend distribute it in our usual outlets in the community. So all ad contracts will be honored and continued possibly by Jan or Feb 2008.
The start of our scheduled long road trip is on Oct 15—so I am still here in Asheville till then, to attend to other personal and organizational matters, and fundraise to beef up travel money, in the next two weeks or so.
My body will leave Asheville but my spirits will stay. The “fire” that we built will hopefully continue to burn – because the spirit never ceases to be. It is so hard leaving after seven years of struggle, in the midst of fear and indifferences, me being probably the oddest madman in Asheville – what my (Filipino and Cherokee/Lakota) people say, “Why in a white community? You will never be accepted there.” But that is wrong—Asheville has taken me in as its own like how my hometown barrio in a small island in the Philippines took me as their own little son and brother and friend and comrade.
In my life—I never saw white, black, yellow, red, or brown in people’s skins, or communism, socialism, buddhism, christianity, islam , or paganism in my spirit—it’s all the same, it’s all one. I only see one human being.
GRACIAS. MARAMING SALAMAT. TOKSA AKE.
--Pasckie Pascua
founder-executive director, TRAVELING BONFIRES
editor-publisher, THE INDIE
homeless for the meantime

UPDATE (09.27.07)LEAVING ASHEVILLE, but not my Swan Song, not my Goodbye

2007-10-01T10:58:00.000-07:00

I WILL BE BACK... Okay, I don't want to start this "update" with, "I am leaving Asheville..." because I am just taking a much-needed, very important break. No departures, no goodbyes. I will be back-I need to be back. The 55th issue of The Indie's 5th year and 3 months has just come out, but there is no "This is the last issue..." epilogue. Not the last issue-I am expecting the next Indie to be out by Dec or Jan 2008 (with or without me in Asheville yet).
Me and Marta The Nicer will be embarking on a long road trip to Las Vegas starting October 15. (We may have stopovers in Memphis, Tulsa, Albuquerque, Almarillo, and Phoenix.) Why Las Vegas? My elder brother, Alberto, lives there-as well as most of my relatives. This is the time that I mostly need their support. In the past few weeks following my son Duane's near-fatal hospitalization, I have been deeply reflecting and deliberating a number of personal concerns: My legal immigrant status in America, the physical wisdom of my life's journey, the practicality of my struggles and their relevance in the near future. I feel and believe that I just have to take care of unfinished and stalled "business" in the West Coast - eg immigration papers, financial focus, future plans. I don't know how long will these "obligatory" SOPs will be taken cared of though - the sure thing is, I don't see myself as a Las Vegas resident at all (although I have set up stay in other relatives' and longtime friends' houses, as well, in Los Angeles, Phoenix, and San Francisco). Meantime, certain state laws and provisions in Nevada, at this point in time-run in consonance with my situation as a foreigner, so I gotta be there... I already have a Nevada-based lawyer that I've started conferring with via the telephone in the past two weeks.
The little break (and the long road journey) will also allow me to ponder and rewrite/reread three of my books that I've stalled finalizing-"Red is the Color of my Night" (poetry), "My Life as Greyhound" (memoir as travelogues and letters), "Waiting for Winter" (novel). I hope to meet up with an agent in LA by mid-December.

APART FROM the personal aspects of this temporary move, I have been thinking a lot lately about the future of The Indie and the "publishing brainstorm" of Loved by the Buffalo Publications. There is no way that I could improve the financial life of these projects in Asheville, unless I have enough capitalization to back them up. It makes me so worried that my struggle/s in the past four years mostly have been focused on basic things-primarily rent and monthly bills. I can't live a life just to pay my basic bills-that's NOT the reason and wisdom why I left my home-country and my people. I need to stoke more Bonfires and improve my indie publishing efforts--I feel that I haven't done much, or I haven't really accomplished enough that serves a mission that I set to pursue in America.
The Indie continues to gasp-each issue's printing budget is such painstaking goal. I wish that we could also print more copies than we usually print, stabilize a marketing force and prop up editorial staffing and distribution. More than anything else, I'd like to fix kinks in my visa so I could fully "function" as a normal human being in America, apart from the fact that I really need to visit the Pbilippines very soon without having to worry about my return trip. Seven years in Asheville has given me the "spiritual stability" to see a more concrete future. This is the time to strengthen that.
Meantime, I am so glad that Marta The Nicer will be going with me. Our friendship is the best thing that ever happened to my personal life in the last four years.

WE WILL BE OUT OF our West Asheville house effective Sept 30. The following two weeks, we will be selling most of our stuff and things to help beef up our travel budget. So we are having an Open House/Moving Sale at 61 Dunwell Avenue from now until Sept 30, and the next two weekends at Smiley's Flea Market in Fletcher. You might want to check out whatever we have here and buy some... Bookshelves, sidetables, new hardbound books / old books, little knick knacks.
Meanwhile, if you are interested to be The Indie's distribution/circulation person while we are gone, let me know. There will be a little honorarium - the job consists of picking up The Indie copies at Iwanna each month, then dropping them off in our usual outlets. I will be sending the final proofs either via electronic transfer or One-day US Mail to Iwanna's production department, and pay them from Nevada. But as I mentioned above, that'd be around Dec or Jan.
I don't intend to throw a sort of "Departure Party," but we can hang out sometime...

--Pasckie
2:47am. Sept 27 2007
Asheville NC

Update (08.24.07)—The Great Funk Season, DIWATA Womenfest, The Duane Tour, “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park—SNUFFED OUT”

2007-08-24T01:54:00.000-07:00

OH WELL, it has been a long time—five months to be exact—since I rambled about stuff and things in my last Update. (The last one was 03-24.) A world, or should I say—a universe—of “stuff and things” have happened, crashlanded, mushroomed and crashed in our midst. In my midst (ie personal life and relations), my son survived a life-and-death situation in a Manila hospital. At the wake of that tragic episode, many truths of my “private life” (that I kept “low-key”) come barging in, till this moment. “What, you have a son?” But you don’t wanna read/hear that, so I digress.
There’re a lot of things to talk about, such as the current/brewing “policing” of Asheville. (Damn, did you read this week’s Mountain Xpress—that fantastic statement from College Street Pub’s owner, in re the last activist unrest in downtown? Ah!)
Another important/significant issue to discuss? The “plugging” of Pritchard Park, should I say—the “unplugging” of “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park.” The originally booked Bonfires (with Touch Samadhi) on Aug 18 didn’t happen. A “moratorium on noise, AKA amplified music” (sic) was handed down at Pritch Park. ONLY at Pritchard Park—which means, you can howl and scream and yell—with your Strats and Pearl and humongous speakers in any other part of downtown like Battery Park or Vance Monument (you can AMPLIFY that, yes), that is okay, that is “legal”—but not at Pritchard Park. NOT at Pritchard Park. The powers-that-be simply hate that poor, pitiful park.

THE SEASON OF FUNK. What is this all about? The fifth moon of Mercury on interplanetary traffic retrograde, or something to that effect? Sometimes I start to believe that maybe it’s feasible, it’s true—that all these “unaligned cosmic incursions” into our respective physiological/metaphysical realms before the advent of autumn is making lives go haywire, upside down, or simply messed up. Well, Jen Bowen’s downtown studio got robbed bigtime, Brigham The Gum got mugged in Albuquerque, Marta The Nicer’s son (yes, she has a son!) in Winston-Salem got held up and beaten blue, Beaver The Fever got dumped by her new ex—and the dude ran away with her Beavis & Butthead DVD archives and Pyrex kitchenware (oh man!)... so do you have a bad story to share—you know, till autumn leaves start falling?
“A lot of things are goin’ on with my life right now.” I used to sneer over this tired and drained whine—until I realized I’m having them, too. But, what the heck, I gotta get moving and start solving problems, or should I say, “situations.” The bullheaded fatalism that I grew up with in the islands—rocked and rolled by obligatory typhoons and political strife battering our souls and bodies—are still pretty much a force inside my madness journey, so be it. Let’s rock!

ON THAT NOTE, here is my long overdue Update— (while watching the Little League, in between Coke-and-Seagram’s).
But, good stuff first—one fine email from a Florida dude (name’s Jim Bonnell)—about all this Indie and stuff: “I recently was in Asheville and really enjoyed your paper. What a great place! I am wondering if it's possible to subscribe and have it shipped to Fla. [Yes another Floridian.] I was amazed at the similarities between our areas. The beaches I grew up in have been destroyed by greedy developers. Keep up the fight and don't lose what you have like we did.”

[ ] The Duane Tour, first leg—along with the “road launch” of Gaither Stewart’s new novel, “Asheville.”
A deadly virus got into my 20-year-old son Duane’s system last month. It took injections of five vials of very expensive antibiotics to save his life. He is currently recovering—but I still need to raise more money for his recovery fund (medicines, therapy etc). Hence, “The Duane Tour.” (Nah, it’s not connected to Duane Reade, okay?) Needless to say, the “fundraiser” road tour was already planned months before the aforementioned “mishap”—as part of The Bonfires’ “Vagrant Wind Road Journeys” to solicit and earn something to help tide financing The Indie and other Bonfires projects and programs... It just evolved into a deeply personal “mission.”
The 3 or 4 leg summer-to-fall “road saga” (in the macro) aims to advocate that health care is utmost and should be the focal agenda in any political or governmental program. The Tour also coincides with my “road launch” of Gaither Stewart’s new novel, “Asheville.” Gaither, who is based in Rome (Italy), is one of three longtime senior writers of The Indie—the other two are Michael Hopping and Matthew Mulder. Mike’s WastelandRunes publishes “Asheville,” while our Loved by the Buffalo Publications markets/distributes it. (A portion of “Asheville’s” first-printing’s book sales go to The Indie’s printing/operations fund, as well as the Traveling Bonfires’ community projects.)
“New” Indie/Bonfires volunteer staff Terri “The Terra” Schell will be my travel comrade. Matt signifies joining in one or two legs. (Matt and Sarah Benoit were my separate “co-road comrades” during my road trips to NYC in the fall of 2002.) At this juncture, the First Leg happens on Sept 15, 16, 17, 18.
The Duane Tour/Vagrant Wind `07 will be “silently/officially” launched with a little event called “Poetry in Favor of Peace, Words Against War” reading (and “Asheville,” the novel, launch) at Malaprop’s on Aug 30. Joining me in reading (either “anti-war/pro-peace” poems or excerpts from Gaither’s book, or both) are Michael Hefner (a Bonfires “homey,” and music technology student at UNCA) and some of his college buddies, Mike Hopping, WNC Peace Coalition’s Susan Ohler, and possibly/hopefully two or three students from Aile Shebar’s summer poetry workshop. In case we still have time in this 2-hour (6:30-8:30pm) gig, an Open Mic ensues.
On Sept 15, we plan to hit either Washington DC or Baltimore (Fells Point or Hampden), or Gaithesburg MD or Fairfax VA. (Sorry, for the “or/s” – at this writing, we are in the process of nailing down that tour stop, tba.) On the 16th, Sunday, a “house gig” at my kindred bro Ruben Austria’s apartment in The Bronx happens—this is a “real” show, even more “full-blown” than some Bonfires “intimate events,” since I get a better turnout and “tip-jar earnings” in this kind of gig. Ruben, who has a “family” bossanova band called Mambola (www.mambola.com), maintains a drum kit and piano in his pad. Vanessa Boyd (another Bonfires “homey”), who now lives and works in NYC (via Queens), is also playing/attending.
On the 17th, Monday (9 to midnight), we will be at Stain Bar in Brooklyn. I still don’t have the final lineup for this show. My friend and Indie contributing writer Adrienne Nightingale is helping me recruit NY-based singer-songwriters and poets for the show; Mambola might play, by the way. The drive back might find us at either Busboys & Poets or El Tamarindo in DC, but not sure yet. Those venues are teeming with poetry.
In between, we might be attending a Filipino-American rock showcase in DC on the 15th, which will also figure in my organization of a multi-band fundraise in DC or Baltimore on the Second Leg, which will be on the 4th week of Oct. I have already booked a reading/book launch at Mina’s Gallery in Hampden MD (Baltimore) on Oct 27, Saturday. BTW, in case you don’t know, Hampden is John Waters’ neighborhood... (Mr Waters of “Hairspray” and “Serial Mom.”)
MEANTIME, I’d like to thank those who are helping me in hooking up the Tour (as of this Update), namely: Asheville “nerve-center,” Marta The Nicer (as ever); Hendersonville “backup cave,” Terri Schell; Martin Smith, Jonathan Blackwell (Durham, Chapel Hill, Raleigh); Jojo Valenzuela, Shahid Buttar, Laurie Blair (Washington DC); Leighanne Lombardo (Greenville SC); Daniel Stuelpnagel, Marco Galsim (Baltimore); Jeri Crystal (Philadelphia); Gino Inocentes, Ruben Austria, Maria Lapachet, Adrienne Nightingale (New York City). Crash pads/rooms are offered (confirmed) by Ruben Austria for New York City and Marco Accattatis (of the band Blue Number Nine) for Jersey City.

[ ] Terri Schell, Nancy Rollins, Eira Patnaik.
IT’S LONG overdue, but let us welcome the newest Indie/Bonfires staff/writers-volunteers. Asheville is always a “woman city” (check out Marta The Nicer’s ongoing Indie Q&A feature, “The Women of Asheville”). From the get-go, without women-friends, it’d been impossible to get these projects/programs (ie “brainstorms”) to move or carry on in the past five or six years. These beautiful spirits came in batches, from the not-so-distant past: Greer Kupka and Kate O’Haley; Elizabeth Mason and Jenni Roberts; Rita Knighten and Paige Michaels; Crystal Whatley and Julie Grant; Emily Elders, Susan Williams, Patricia Nichols and Sommer Swanson; Dinna Daproza-Rich, Lally Cenabre, Shiela Higgins, Maria Lapachet, Julie Fisher, Julia Bella Flores, Lacy McAuley, Karen Helman, Kat Magendie, Linda Brown... Thanks to all of you. (And those who are always here, supporting/lending a hand and heart or two whenever they could—Dawn Humphrey, Loretta Hoffman, Rena Wright, Katie Kasben etcetcetc—they know it.)
(a) Terri Schell. She fills up all the vacuums and missing spaces—Indie/Bonfires-related errands and tasks, outlet/volunteer/support networking (Hendersonville, Flat Rock), “back-up” office/chill-out retreat in Hendersonville, and many others not worth words and superlatives. (b) Nancy Rollins. Fills up the editorial/writing (assignment-basis) gaps that have long kept me cramming on d-day. Emcees Bonfires/Third World Asheville shows and gigs—and a lot more in between. (c) Eira Patnaik. New Indie columnist and Bonfires/TWA resource speaker, as well as dance benefit instructor.

[ ] DIWATA Womenfest—and Organicfest, LAAFF, Touch Samadhi’s “Reunion.”
Third World Asheville presents “DIWATA WOMENFEST: A Third World Asheville Gathering,” tomorrow, Aug 25, Saturday (12noon to 11pm) at HandMade in America bldg, located at 125 South Lexington Avenue (corner of Hilliard and Church streets), near downtown Asheville. Featured performers are Baraka Mundi’s World Spirit bellydancing group, singer-songwriters Jenny Arch, Amy Hamilton, Dawn Humphrey, and Jaimee Tomas, and poets Jess Clarke, Audrey Hope Rinehart, and Pat Spaulding. There will also be a screening of the documentary “Imelda,” a Sundance-winning movie by Ramona Diaz. Emcee is Nancy Rollins.
Thanks to: Artisan Restaurant, Asheville Yoga Center, Bella Vista Art, Melanie Castillo, Charlotte Street Grill, Cruley’s, Earth Fare, Eaties Cereal Bar, Dr Mary Elam, Fired up!, The Greenery, Harvest Restaurant, Ingles-Merrimon Avenue, Instant Karma, Jon Leidel Photography, Kinko’s, Mayfel’s, Dorinda Metcalf, Mellow Mushroom, Kim Miller, Matthew Mulder, Papa’s Pizza, Pastabilities, Picnics, Screen Door, Terri Schell & Renee Rutley, Ten Thousand Villages, Toy Box, True Blue, Ultimate Ice Cream, Vincenzo’s Ristorante & Bistro, West End Bakery, and WNC Peace Coalition. Proceeds of the event go to TWA’s start-up administrative fund and ongoing typhoon relief projects in the Philippines.
Your indefatigable, non-tiring spirit—MARTA THE NICER OSBOURNE—the Producer.
MEANTIME, we will also be participating at Organicfest (Sept 8), Lexington Avenue Arts & Fun Festival (Sept 9), and REUNION: Touch Samadhi Festival in Deerfields (Sept 21, 22, 23).

[ ] MORE SHOWS AND WEEKLY EVENTS.
(a) Sept 1, 6:30pm, at Eaties Cereal Bar, 48 Commerce St., downtown Asheville. Start of Traveling Bonfires’ Saturday Filmshows (after so many attempts). Lineup of screenings, tba.
(b) Sept 19, Wednesday, 6:30-8:30pm, at Malaprop’s. Eira Patnaik talks about “Four Generations of Women in India,” plus a women poetry open mic. Hosted by Marta The Nicer.
(c) Sept 22, Saturday, 7pm-9pm, at Osondu Booksellers, Waynesville. Traveling Bonfires’ 3rd-Saturday of the month poetry reading/singer-songwriter unpluggeds.
(d) Oct 13, Saturday, evening, at Asheville Arts Center in Merrimon Avenue. A possible dance demonstration/lessons/fundraise to be facilitated by Eira Patnaik and Jim Curtis.

SO, THAT'S IT—for now... Last but not the least, every first Sunday of the month, starting Sept 2, we will be having potluck/gathering/chill out time at The Bonfires Abode, 61 Dunwell Avenue, West Asheville. This is not a meeting, not a “rally,” not anything—but just to hang out, bring your family and pets (but as ever, no baby anacondas and domesticated pterodactyls, please). And every early Sunday morning (when I can), we—me with Marta The Nicer, or Terri The Terra—sell whatever we could at Smiley’s Flea Market in Fletcher... so keep on donating/contributing whatever “saleable used-to-be throwable treasures” that you may have for us bring/sell at Smiley’s—remember, after all this life’s turbulence or “the fifth moon of Mercury on interplanetary traffic retrograde,” we are still here, because every cent and dollar + load and loads of sublime stubbornness add up.
Live good, love good—and eat only good food!

--Pasckie
4:46am. Asheville NC.

UPDATE (03.24.07)—At Last Website! Bonfires Open Mic, 4th Year at Pritchard Park

2007-04-04T05:06:00.000-07:00

FOR THE 7TH spring time in Asheville, I hear the drums resonate and watch bodies undulate at Pritchard Park. It’s also the seventh winter passing of my Appalachian crashland... My novel, “Waiting for Winter,” which I brought with me from New York City (coming from my many life’s layovers), is still unfinished—but, who cares? I am still rockin’.
Me and Marta The Nicer quietly celebrated the new Spring Sun by walking downtown, pass the drumming and dancing at Pritchard Park... punctuated by our most expensive dinner, so far, at Mela’s Indian Restaurant, and our most expensive coffee and strawberry cheesecake, so far, at the “new” Old Europe. We also spent our most expensive parking ticket (Biltmore Av, downtown) at $5 for less than two hours. We are still half-month behind our rent but, ah—who cares?
It’s spring!

ROME-based Indie senior writer Gaither Stewart and new Bonfires guest-poet Michael Hefner sort of “reminded” me of some “words of wisdom” that used to bother my aftermidnights, years ago...
From Oscar Wilde’s bothered soul came a-whispering, “All bad poetry springs from genuine feelings.” And from Jack Kerouac’s sweet stupor, “I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
I sort of contradict these once beautiful words now, though... Moreover, I don’t believe in Ayn Rand’s objectivist epistemology anymore, or even Ho Chi Minh’s revered “war philosophy” ravens, and I don’t believe in the walrus anymore. All I know is the here and now...
But I’d like to spend an evening of intoxicated muses and broken metaphors again, with the nagging ghosts of Wilde and Kerouac. Anytime... here in my humble abode, 61 Dunwell Avenue, West Asheville.

NOW, the Update.

[ ] FINALLY, the internet home of this self-exalted “rock journeys and sublime madnesses” has come through. It’s already been born – www.indieasheville.com -- but not yet fully nurtured or put up, although you can already view it. There are still a lot of joys and pains and defeats and victories – aside from new plans, projects and gigs, gatherings to fit in. Check it out, and let me know what you think. We will try our best to squeeze in choice Indie articles, sell some Loved by the Buffalo/Traveling Bonfires merchandise (including future LBTB chapbook projects), include MP3s, flash/videos and stuff, gallery of all these sweet lunacies, PayPal, the works. This will evolve in time, no problemo... [Thanks to Kim Vickers of Vickers Webdesigns, Ocilla GA—our Webmaster.]

[ ] THE INDIE, as you may have already noticed by now, has taken very drastic makeovers and “brave” new strides—in the last three or four months. Well, the modifications/experimentations/improvisations aren’t over yet... I am still on “scrimmage” with my demons and angels. Some “new” columnists are “rested/retired/resigned/cut,” effective this coming April 1-15 issue (that’s not an April Fools’ joke). The last issue (March 16 to 31 edition) was my most painstaking issue of all—and you can see/read some glaring offshoots (typos, typos—and WRONG, very wrong, info on the front page)! But, then—yes, it’s just one issue... work a better edition next time out.
Meantime, I will continue seeking that elusive mix (diversity?) of articles and subjects that’ll make me regain a good night’s sleep. Despite my temporary disappointment (with myself) though, the degree of positive response from mostly random (read, unexpected/unsolicited) readers and advertisers in the last few weeks is very promising and inspiring. In the past, when people whom I’m sure agree with whatever politics/philosophy/craziness that I exude, tell me, “I like The Indie!” (100+ superlatives, to boot). I almost don’t believe it. These are the kind of nice people who’d like to read what they want to read, period... But when people from somewhere whom I don’t expect to pick a copy up, say, “I love The Indie...” and then offer to help distribute them, among other selfless contributions and help, it’s hard not to believe them. This time out, the superlatives come from literally, all walks of life...

[ ] ONE SURPRISING call came from WNC Visitors Center, based in Waynesville. This is local tourism. They (c/o staff Jolene Bryant) offered to help distribute The Indie—specifically in Waynesville and Maggie Valley, for a start. Ms Bryant boasts of close to 3,000 mountain visitors during spring and summer. I am more excited with this news, more than a communication from the Acquisitions Section of the Michigan Historical Society. They asked for a full catalogue/back issues of The Indie, since our inception in 2003. Maybe that is SOP, but hey, it feels good to know that we are legit, after all. And we don’t even have a stainless steel box outside establishments, just like other Asheville/WNC publications... we can only afford 10 to 15 copies at a choice outlet. We still can’t afford to have those, maybe The Blue Sky God/dess will rain $$$ our way, one of these nights.

[ ] THANKS TO LIKE-MINDED, spirit-aligned nonprofits – The Human Movement (political satire show by Barry Crimmins) and Steven & Oshana Williams (who advocates a sort of “anti-cellphone” advocacy) – for placing paid ads to The Indie. I normally, automatically print Press Releases of community activities, like theirs, in favor of business-related media feeds. So it really feels good that, along with PRs, they also placed ads... even though, I’ll surely publish their submissions. This means, that they do understand how (financially) painstaking it is to get an issue out.

[ ] WE ARE GOING to test a Thursday open mic at The Dripolator/Asheville, starting April 12, 8 to 10pm. New Asheville resident and singer-s0ngwriter Jason Daniello loans his PA/sound system... I will rotate emcees but I will primarily be responsible with it. Anybody interested to emcee, as well? I’m also pushing Marta The Nicer to try it out...

[ ] THE TRAVELING BONFIRES April 5 poetry reading at Malaprop’s, features J.M. Cox, Michael Hefner, Matt Moon, Pasckie Pascua, Brian Sneeden, and Bob Voorhees, with ex-Beanstreets open mic emcee Kapila Ushana as guest. Marta The Nicer will be doing her first-ever emceeing gig.
By the way, the Third World Asheville/all-women (Laura Hope-Gill, Kathryn Magendie, Rena Wright, Jess Clarke) poetry reading at Malaprop’s last March 10, emceed by Womansong’s Kerry Daniel, was definitely one of The Bonfires’ most-attended “intimate” shows. A follow-up Third World Asheville all-women singer-songwriter show happens somewhere in May...

[ ] MEANTIME, the Traveling Bonfires visits Waynesville’s Osondu Booksellers on April 28. Myself, possibly Matt Mulder and Jason Daniello, and Michael Hefner, will join Waynesville/Maggie Valley-based poets (led by the bookstore owner, Margaret Osondu) and singer-songwriters to another “intimate poeting,” to borrow Gary’s (of Malaprop’s) words.

[ ] LAST BUT NOT the least... the “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park,” Year 4, starts on May 12, featuring Touch Samadhi’s family of trance Goa DJs, with hopefully, bellydancers and firedancers.

A LOT of other “madnesses” are still “scrimmaging” in my head, at this juncture, but I’m okay. Winter hubris usher voices, the voices... Oh well, I am currently rereading “To Kill A Mockingbird” by Harper Lee, and pondering over old Fleetwood Mac blues (before “Rumours,” post-Peter Green era), and I just watched Clint Eastwood’s provocative and disturbing “Flags of our Fathers” (this movie made me remember my soldier-grandfather’s words to me when I was a kid, “There are no heroes, young man... there are only soldiers”).
So, again, spring is here! Downtown Asheville starts to jingle and the Blue Ridge Parkway begins to jangle... Get out! I know it’s NCAA basketball’s penultimate lap, but GET OUT! And, as ever—I admonish—live good, love good, and eat only good food!
TOKSA AKE!

--Pasckie
4:02pm, Asheville NC

UPDATE (02.22.07)—Kat Magendie, More Columnists, Bonfires’ “Lilith Fair”

2007-02-25T01:36:00.000-08:00

WHAT’S UP? The relatively warm weather is indeed a welcome respite after weeks of 30s temp. Spring is very much awaited, indeed! Despite the chill, however, activity hasn’t died down or fizzled out in The Indie and Traveling Bonfires’ backyard.
Our year kicked off with a twice-a-month Indie, which seemed very bold and courageous, although it was very calculated and contained. Since then, we’ve been growing—thanks a lot mostly to Kathryn “Kat” Magendie (from Senior Writer to Associate Editor). Although she lives in Waynesville, it almost feels like she lives just a mere block away from 61 Dunwell Avenue (aka The Bonfires Abode). We communicate and confer and discuss via emails everyday... More significantly, her volunteer work isn’t just confined to article submissions—she also networks us to as far as Baton Rouge (Louisiana) and Des Moines (Iowa), brainstorms (and offers to supervise) fundraise events come spring and summer (in, around and beyond WNC), finds subscribers and donations to The Indie’s malnourished coffers, distributes The Indie all over Waynesville, and opens up possible advertising leads. I reckon, she should be an Associate Editor, she handles responsibilities that go with the designation, for sure... Now, it’s not just entirely me and Marta The Nicer Osbourne worrying/thinking about internal (mostly Indie) affairs these days.
Kat is like the long-lost spirit that warms you up when things slide down in blues and funk. She rocks ‘em... Thanks as well to Heather Miljour who helps me and Marta a lot in terms of distribution of Indie copies and advertising packages. More than all, her presence in the house makes life lively these cold nights of winter, bald Britneys, pitiful/surreal Anna Nicole Smith “living room TV” battles, and insatiable bills. With Gaither Stewart exuding that “old master’s” wisdom and earnest from afar (Rome, Italy, and elsewhere), Mike Hopping consistently churning out very respectable and well-researched/written/covered/in-depth news-features... Matthew Mulder and Lady Passion’s work arriving on my inbox/desk on time each deadline—it hard to “lose” these days. It’s not yet there—but the signs are going upwards, for sure.

[ ] Coming from Kat’s network is a set of new columnists whose subject matters will definitely add a very delicious spice to The Indie’s pages: Patresa Hartman of Des Moines, Iowa talks about life and living in the mold of Erma Bombeck and Helen Fielding (excuse my comparisons, please), but exclusively prepared the Patresa Hartman-way... Mary Ann Ledbetter of Baton Rouge, Louisiana ruminates and dissects the dizzying, profound, intriguing, and enigmatic literary world from her neck of the woods (or bayou?), and twins Angie Ledbetter and Alaine Benard (also of Baton Rouge) offer advice to the heartbroken swain, problematic wife, exasperated hubby, and a dazed and confused soul... Expect all these as welcome additions to The Indie’s ultra-diverse brew. (Coming up: An astrology column, food column.)

[ ] Not to forget—The Traveling Bonfires’ women-initiative sister organization Third World Asheville fires off a monthly event program with a 4-poet reading at Malaprop’s Bookshop/Cafe on March 10, Saturday, 7pm-9pm. This intimate event celebrates the Women History Month. The featured women-poets are—(1) Laura Hope-Gill, a Gail Godwin Chair of Creative Writing at Christ School in Arden, North Carolina. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Tidepools, 13th Moon, Illuminations, Going Down Swinging, The Cold Mountain Review, The Awakenings Journal, Spillway, and others. (2) The Indie’s Kathryn Magendie. Kat is also an editor for Rose & Thorn Magazine and a prolific creative writer. (3) Jess Clarke, a newspaper journalist with 20 years of experience behind her. She currently hosts a monthly women's poetry group in Asheville that welcomes new people. (4) Rena Wright, a longtime Indie/Bonfires friend and supporter. Rena is the spirit behind Performance Poetry South... Mark that date up, March 10. It’s free! (Thanks to the cafe’s events coordinator, Alsace Walentine-Young for the booking/s.)
Meantime, TWAsheville’s planned music/food/craftfest (a-ala mini-Lilith Fair, which will also include film screenings) will/shall be held on late spring or mid-summer... Stand by for more updates.

[ ] Thank God, our website – www.indieasheville.com -- will soon be up and ready for viewing. This will include both Traveling Bonfires and Loved by the Buffalo projects (The Indie, Wander, Blue Sky Asheville). Our website artist/developer/designer is Kim Vickers, based in Ocilla, Georgia. (She was introduced to me by Kat...)

[ ] Me and Marta The Nicer have made visits at Warren Wilson College (in Black Mountain) lately—both for Indie distribution and networking/recruitment with students and student groups. Debra Kiliru (of WWC and the nonprofit Motherland International Relations) has been helping us out – by introducing us with significant groups and people in the college. We will definitely do a project/event in Warren Wilson come summer...

[ ] Courtesy of Kat, we will have a poetry reading (with music) at Osondu Booksellers in Waynesville on April 16 (subject for confirmation). This is part of The Indie WNC-wide promotions blitz cum fundraise this spring/summer 07... Then, as part of Kat’s brainstorm, we will have a writers seminar in spring in Waynesville, as well. Details coming up...

Meanwhile, Marta The Nicer also has ongoing talks with the owners of The Dripolator in Biltmore Avenue, downtown, for possible weekly open mic... Before I close, we’d like to thank new advertisers (as well as those who renewed their contracts)—Downtown Books, Jae Thai Restaurant, Mela’s Indian Restaurant, Orbit Video, Rosetta’s Kitchen, True Blue, Vincenzo’s Ristorante. Prospects include Harvest Restaurant, Charlotte St Grill, Ruby’s BBQ Grill, and India Garden.
I am busy as ever on the desk... but it is a lot more manageable and enjoyable than before. It’s good and exciting to see/layout/edit/read new materials from a very diverse group of writers...

Gracias! And, as I always push—live good, love good, and eat only good food!
--Pasckie
9:34pm / West Asheville NC

UPDATE (01.15.07)—Twice a Month Indie, Third World Asheville, and Mumufuku Ando

2007-01-17T10:33:00.000-08:00

EVERYBODY’S STILL talking about New Year... As Janis Joplin exhorted, “It’s all a f—in’ day.” True. But it sometimes it does help to try to do better each time a new year ushers in. So before I ramble on with my second Update for 2007, let me quote one of my “patron saints” who just passed away at age 96, Mr Momofuku Ando, the inventor of instant noodles AKA ramen noodles: “Peace prevails when food suffices.”

[1 ] REPEAT: Editorial meetings every 3rd and first Saturday of the month.
First meeting – Jan 20, 4pm-6pm at 61 Dunwell Avenue, West Asheville (or our house, otherwise known as The Bonfires Abode). This kickoff meeting starts a bit earlier because we also have a Traveling Bonfires poetry reading on the same night at Malaprop’s (see Item #4). On the next meeting, Feb 3, we will start at 6pm.
Editorial meetings are not just confined to/with active writers or contributors to The Indie (or Wander and Blue Sky). I enjoin other interested people to come share us some ideas and suggestions how to make this little “ramen noodles-fed” magazine a better rag and/or community mouthpiece (that could reverberate in other cities/places and cultures, as well).
Main agenda should be: (a) Discussion about the preceding issue or the issue that just came out, and (b) Discussion about the upcoming issue and future stories/subjects to tackle. But the meeting should not just focus on these two items. We can also discuss marketing, distribution, fundraise, networking etc.
I try my best to make our house a comfy crib for each and everyone. You are welcome to bring food/drinks, potluck-style, otherwise just bear with whatever me and Marta The Nicer could offer (most of which come from our supporters and advertisers). I have a lot of new hardbound books and DVD movies, and we’re wireless, so in case you plan to come early and enjoy the place, you are very welcome.

[2] SUBMISSION DEADLINES: Communication counts a lot.
Rules-wise, today (Jan 15) is the deadline of submission of articles for the Feb 1 to 15 issue, but sadly, only two writers were able to beat that deadline. That is okay—please don’t imagine me as a growling, caricaturish editor pushing for ALMIGHTY DEADLINE! I do understand, believe me.All I am asking is, please let me know (emails or call the number, 505 0476) if you are working on a story for a specific issue so I could save space for it/them or let’s see... “ll treat each “late” submission on a case to case basis. If it’s an important fastbreaking story, I am willing to wait till the last day or night of absolute deadline (to printing submission). When is that? I’ll let you know, email me individually.
However, submitting stories every 15th and 31st of the month will make my deskwork a lot better and more “professional.” I’d like to discuss articles with writers—in case, I deem it necessary to revise or rewrite or do more research. But if you submit stories two days before I go to the printing press, I may just reject or hold the article for “future” considerations. Of course, this reminder does not apply to those whose work don’t need editing or thorough review.

[3] NEW VOLUNTEER STAFF: Heather Miljour from Chicago.
We also would like to welcome Heather Miljour to the “rock journeys and sublime madnesses.” She is deeply/seriously considering moving here in Asheville, from Chicago. Right now, she’s simply hanging out, chillin’ with me and Marta—“acclimatizing” (sic!) herself with the mountain, downtown, and my eccentricities. I haven’t pushed her to eat my “boiled pig ears on mayonnaise” yet—which means, she’s okay, so far. But I already admonished her to watch slasher/gory movies with me on regular basis... We just watched “Saw II” on DVD, by the way, and I plan to see “Apocalypto” with her tomorrow.
Will she stay? The Blue Sky God/dess shall bless her, and will definitely keep her safe in the company of the squirrels and bugs in my front and backyard.

[4] MALAPROP’S READING: Five poets with diverse voices.
This Saturday, Jan 20, from 7pm to 8:45—the Traveling Bonfires will be back at Malaprop’s for our regular poetry reading. I will be back with Matt Mulder and Brian Sneeden, plus Megan Hislop and Walter Dinteman (fresh from their European trips, separate journeys). We also welcome Michael Hefner from the Tuesday Writers Group (of Robert Kelley).Please try to be there and enjoy words...

[5] THIRD WORLD ASHEVILLE: A women initiative.
As I previously announced, the Traveling Bonfires will be focused on the supposedly sideproject called Third World Asheville this year. We launched this program at the Grey Eagle in Dec of 2005 through a concert that featured women performers and poets (including Glenis Redmond, Carrie Gerstmann, Laura Blackley, Vanessa Boyd, Kimberly Summer, and guests from San Francisco, Nashville, Canada, and Boston). But since then, we haven’t really followed up or followed through.
No apologies... but this year, most of The Bonfires activities shall put emphasis on TWAsheville. I also plan to write/draft a funding proposal for this one... In case, you are interested to help me write/research this, let me know. We can probably strike a compensation deal, or something.
To kick things off, we are having TWAshe meetings here in the house every 2nd and 4th Friday of the month, 5 to 7pm. The first meeting will be on Jan 26. Interested souls, please let us know... although TWAsheville is a women initiative project, this does not necessarily mean that it’s an exclusively all-women project. Let’s try to build a synergetic relationship with opposites sexes (whatever sexuality you may belong).

[6] KICK OFF NETWORKING. Finding new links and connects.
I would like to restart or reenergize ideas and plans and brainstorms that we haven’t really applied into action or implemented in the past three or four years. I don’t intend to ramble about specifics of such plans, at this juncture, but rest assured that the fire and the madness will be heightened albeit systematically/methodically (eg less spontaneous) this year.
For starters, I have scheduled separate meetings (this week and next) with Gerri Solomon of International Link, Debra Kiliru of the Black Mountain-based nonprofit, Motherland International Relations, and Dustin Rhodes, Students Activities Director of Warren Wilson. (Debra and Dustin were recommended by Molly McMillan, who actively writes for Blue Sky Asheville, The Indie’s partner magazine.)
In case you wanna know, Motherland International Relations serves as a bridge to Africa through service oriented educational programs. The organization supports appropriate technologies and sustainable agricultural programs in Africa and the Diaspora. Motherland International Relations seeks relationships with complimentary organizations in order to renew all through co-operation.
Meanwhile, Marta The Nicer has also been talking with the husband and wife team behind Playcademy Learning Community Preschool, just our next street/block neighbor here in West Asheville. Gaither Stewart (The Indie’s senior writer, based in Italy) has also recommended a number of WNC-based writers and organization/marketing people who may be interested to join the fold, either as volunteer/contributing writers, marketing advisers, or just cool souls to hang out with. (My friend Rebekah Konieczka, based in Pittsburgh, has also started a “feel-good” column for The Indie.)

[7] Lastly, WEBSITE WOES. In dire, dire need.
I have emailed a number of people who could possibly work on an organizational website, but so far, no luck. But I must admit that our main drawback is that I don’t have money to pay a $65/hour website artist. But there might be a way to work out a mutual benefit deal, or something... I just need a worker who, despite obliging to a “love-offering” budget, is also willing to adhere to a deadline.

SO THAT’S IT, so far... I hope y’all are having a great start of 2007 day. I hope that most of us won’t be saying, “A lot of things are going on with my life these days” anymore, and that, we are able to get over the funk and blues, and – as Mr Momofuku Ando puts it (revised by me), “Live good, love good, and eat only good food!” (That’s including, especially ramen noodles.)

--Pasckie
11:19pm
West Asheville NC

UPDATE (01.01.07)—New Indie, New Stubbornness, New Year

2007-01-15T14:28:00.000-08:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR to one and all.
There’s not much to Update at this juncture – only a few but a few VERY significant and major ones. I am still on a deeply/reclusive reflective state of being so other “related developments” shall be shared later...
Meantime—
[ ] Starting Jan 15, 2007, The Indie will come out twice a month. The next is due on Feb 1. Alongside that, is the imposition of renewed/”stricter” deadline regulations, as in: Deadline of submission of articles for the 1st-15th of the month issue is every 15th of the month; for the 16th-30th/31st issue, deadline is every 30th.
For stories/articles that adhere to newsworthiness or those waiting for interviews, additional updates that may not be turned in at the aforementioned deadline dates, are given 3 days max of “grace period” or leeway, but only after an email/phone message advice/notification is sent to me 2 days before the set deadline.
Since this announcement came out after the 1st of the month deadline (for the Jan 15 issue), I will wait for submissions (for the Jan 15 Indie) until 5pm of Jan 10. Hence, after that, the next deadline (for the Feb 1 issue) is Jan 15.
Columnists have an option to submit two column stories a month. In case you prefer to maintain just one, let me know whether you prefer to be published on the first or the 15th of the month issue... Otherwise, I reserve the right to decide whichever fits (pending the first editorial meeting).
[ ] We will have two regular editorial/writers discussion/meetings every first and 3rd Saturdays of the month, starting Jan 20, 5pm-8pm, at 61 Dunwell Avenue, West Asheville (aka The Bonfires Abode). Those who feel/think that they are part (physically, spiritually / friend, acquaintance, or wanting to be part) of The Indie and/or Loved by the Buffalo Publications are welcome to join the meetings/discussions.
[ ] Starting January this year, one regular full time (Loved by the Buffalo/Traveling Bonfires) staff joins me and Marta. I will announce the identity of the person in the coming weeks. (I am meeting with possibly new/regular volunteer staff and contributing writers, from the 3rd week of Jan onwards.)
[ ] We have given up the Traveling Bonfires/Loved by the Buffalo booth at the Center of Unlimited Possibilities (CUP), effective end of Dec 06. We may “transfer” the booth in a downtown spot.
For more info or questions about other related matters, please email me. Meanwhile, stay cool – live good, love good, and eat good food!
--Pasckie

UPDATE (11.17.06)--Bonfires Christmas Coming Up, Autumn Blues, and memories

2006-11-16T22:35:00.000-08:00

FIRST OFF, don’t forget—tomorrow, Saturday (Nov 18/7pm-9pm), me and Matt Mulder will be reading poetry at Malaprop’s with two young UNCA-based poets Arielle Carlson and Brian Sneeden, with unplugged/un-amplified music by Paul “Drum” DeCirce of Peace Jones. I have been struggling to finish at least 12 poetry drafts in the last 12 months or so, but I hope I could finish at least four, in time for Saturday – “The Vampire of the 21st Century” (the depleted earth that we live in), “It Does Not Rain in America” (immigrant sorrow), “My Mother is The Sea” (ode to my dear departed Mother and all the women/mothers of the world), and a new love poem, “Love Like the Wind…”
See you there!

STILL VERY COLD, but it’s kinda warm “inside.” Despite the intermittent FF (aka financial funk)—which seems to be the bitter yet necessary condiment to life and living—we still derive warmth from simple pleasures... such as these—
The Asheville visit of the anti-war “puppetista” troupe, Cardboard Chaos, silently/intimately swept pass WNC’s 30s chill with its circus/puppets road show, “When The Levee Breaks,” last Sunday (Nov 12) at UNCA’s Alumni Hall. The Traveling Bonfires’ co-sponsored this event with UNCA’s Socialist Unity League (SUL)…
The Bonfires provided Mellow Mushroom pizza and West End Bakery bread/pastry (peanut butter from our humble cupboard) to the show. Cardboard Chaos handed Marta The Nicer the $22 tip gathered from the sparse crowd, “for her efforts” (although I instructed Marta to give them the tip because they need it more, I guess... turned out, we needed it more?)

JUST THE thought that we (again) took the initiative when no one stood up to “host” traveling souls such as they, that’s all the “hero” we need be. Months ago, The Bonfires also brought/sponsored Haiti’s N a Sonje trip to Asheville, because no organization wanted the job (specifically, show coordination/venue administration)...
That’s all the “hero/heroine” we need be, I guess. Once again, I doff my hat to my ever-diligent and sweetly hard-headed associate Marta The Nicer – who ran the UNCA show (with SUL’s Lucas) as I nursed flu at 61 Dunwell Avenue afront my fireplace.
Ah, I remember my activism days of yore. No typhoon, no floods, no truncheons, no firemen’s hoses, no cuffs, no paddywagons, no lurking Marcos gestapos, no nothing prevent us from camping out a scab-infested factory “crippled” by workers stoppage, reading poetry, singing “Internationale”… or simply to support a street theater group from delivering their message to the people. Our presence meant a lot to the struggle.

THE SATISFACTION of the spirit is what matters, what mattered. In between swigs and swallows of Gato Negro organic wine, black coffee, and oranges/grapes—fireplace a-burning—me and Marta The Nicer congratulated each other for the quiet, yet on-target job.
We just gotta do it, that’s the deal. I keep my ambitions on even ground, and my expectations realistic – I am already thankful when “volunteers” show up for 20 minutes to an hour in a six-hour show, or run after 15 minutes of a weeklong-arranged meeting… because that’s all that we could ask for. Since we don’t have enough financial power and community clout—hence nothing much to offer—it is so hard to compete with words like “organization” or “professionalism.” But I am so glad that the spirit of the Blue Sky God/dess remains mighty within us, that fire keeps our energy moving.
One project done—we are happy. Life is a moment’s time. We move on. Tomorrow, next project—is another story.

I HOPE THAT the next Traveling Bonfires event—the “Christmas Community Convergence: A Traveling Bonfires Holiday Chill-Time” concert/party—on Dec 15 gather physical/presence or support from those who profess belief to the “madness.” It’s not because I am concerned about earning rent money or heating/winter budget at the door… but I just want to feel a semblance of community/friendship intimacy amidst all these funk and blues. You see, this journey sometimes is a lonely battle but somehow we manage to excise inner joy by simply doing them.
It will be a great event, I know, I feel. Ah, maybe it’s the weather… it’s depressing.
But how many winters did we battle to survive these all? How many adverse criticisms did we slug out of our beaten ears… we are still doing it and we will still be doing it.

THIS EARLY, we’d like to thank the following local/Asheville shops, stores and restaurants who already donated or committed to donate food, gift certificates, gifts, benefit auction stuff&things to the Dec 15 event – Corner Kitchen, Digable Pizza, Hannah Flannagan’s, Havana Cuban Cuisine, Instant Karma, Malaprop’s, Mamacita’s, Mellow Mushroom, New Age Garden (Swannanoa), Octopus Garden, Orbit Video, Vincenzo’s Ristorante & Bistro, West Asheville Tailgate Market.
We are awaiting word from Greenlife Grocery, Earth Fare, Don Papa’s, New French Broad Coop, Flying Frog, Pineapple Jack’s, Woolworth Walk, and Kress Emporium.
There are no cash though, and some of these “donations” are traded off with ads to all or either of the three magazines (The Indie, Wander, Blue Sky). It’s good to know that we were able to negotiate a workable rental/financial agreement with CUP (Center of Unlimited Possibilities), the venue, in re use of the sound/equipment and employment of the sound/techperson.
Negotiations work.
There will be no alcoholic drinks in the vicinity, so I guess, this is good. (Or is it?) We don’t want to pressure ourselves with “crowd draw.” I told Marta The Nicer that I just want to give out gifts to friends and advertisers, invite friend-bands to hang out, play some music, and eat good food, and relive the warm spirit of Christmas… No pressures. This is My family. Whether it’ll just me and Marta plus a few souls in there, this will still be Christmas. My Home.
For $5 donation – you eat all you can, and will definitely have a chance or two to win cool raffle prizes. Bring and give $5 worth of Christmas gift, you get the same value… We will also be auctioning off some valuable stuff&things. Of course, feel free to bring potluck food—that’ll be your gift to the spirit.
I guess, I will be emceeing the show. The celebration starts at 7pm. We have the venue till 2am but we don’t intend to stay that long.

MEANTIME, THE BONFIRES booth at CUP has also started to assume an “identity.” I’ve hung old Bonfires posters (ornamented by jewelries/accessories for sale), some of my old drawings and sketches (yes, there’s already walls in there, between booths)… and my friend (Baltimore-based artist) Daniel Stuelpnagel is shipping in some of his watercolor work etc to be displayed there.
I’d also like to congratulate Dani for a series of successful exhibitions/shows up north and in Hawaii in the past year or so. He plans to “circumnavigate” the globe with his art next year. It feels so good inside when friends from afar say that I do inspire and motivate them to dream and keep on dreaming… but at the same time, “Don’t ever stop to pursue your mission… Failure happens only when you stop.”
Two nights ago, my bestfriend in Manila, Duwi Iscala, who’s currently battling a heart ailment caused by a lung condition, emailed me (translated from Filipino): “Maybe our worlds have changed and differed through the years—because we pursued individual missions in life, as you mentioned. But until now, although my guitar is already broken and my chest gasps so hard to sing a song… I still have the melodies in my heart and your words in my spirit. Once in a little while, I sing the songs that we wrote together many years ago, and I remember the many good things that we have shared as friends.”
We were neighborhood chums… high school buddies… From 1985 to 1991, with another friend, we intermittently traveled to India to seek peace in the midst of political turmoil in the Philippines. He chose to pursue the inner peace of God… I chose to go back to the streets and the countrysides to seek my peace with the people.
Time flies, but the spirit remains connected.

I AM ALSO glad to know that The Indie’s last issue (Oct) only had 25 returns (we almost ran out of copies on Wander/Blue Sky). Does this mean that more people are picking them up? Wander and Blue Sky have new contributors, as ever—and I’ve been sending copies to a number of publishing agents up north lately (in turn, they also send me books to review). Malaprop’s Alsace Young-Walentine has also hooked me up with WNC-based publishers, on this regard. Thanks, as well, to Gaither Stewart (who’s in Buenos Aires, at this moment) for continually linking us up with new network beyond the US… Of course, without help from his words that flow like river to the sea, it would be hard for The Indie/Wander/Blue Sky to assume its own distinct voice.
LASTLY, in case anyone of you have time to watch UNCA musical concerts, WNC Jazz Society shows, Asheville Community Theater plays etc, let me know. We have free passes... So as ever, live good, love good, and eat good food.

NAMASKAR! TOKSA AKE! SALUDOS… Magandang gabi sa inyong lahat!

--Pasckie

UPDATE (10.05.06)— The CUP runneth over, Back at UNCA, Bonfires for Vampires

2006-10-15T10:34:00.000-07:00

I AM always asked, “Why do you do the things that you do...” (Organizing, publishing etc) I always say, “It’s fun, it makes me happy. But first of all, it is a personal madness...” Each time an issue of any of Loved by the Buffalo magazines come out, or each time two or three people smile, dance and laugh during/after a Bonfires concert or event happens... I feel so good. So good that I wanna do it again, again and again. Over and over again... till I drop. Then I do it again.
In the last two months, I beat my Indie printing deadlines – a week before the month’s issue. That makes me so happy... But I am always told (with loving, concerned words), “You can deliver the magazines next week, it doesn’t matter—nobody will notice.” Well, it’s not entirely about “them,” I seldom get pressures outside of my own anatomy/sanity... Instead, I pressure myself—so it’s about the joy that makes me feel good each time I create and then share them that matters to me. I create because it makes me feel good, and if that creation makes people good as well, then I guess, that’s a bonus. Would that mean that I deserve to live more days and years in my life? I deserve life...
I can’t imagine myself safely, comfortably lounging on my cool, fluffy couch—but not involved in anything outside of my four walls and 40hrs/week’s day job. I easily get bored. I gotta do something to shake things up. I can’t imagine myself meditating on top of a hill, charkas exploding, dissociated from the rest of humanity... while down there—something’s going on...
I just gotta get involved because that move, that persistence, that stubbornness– simply, makes me happy. I do it because I get a hell lot of fun just doing things.
I am rambling again, as I nurse this stuffed snout (while I watch the Yankees-Tigers matchup). Colds season...

THERE ARE many gestures and decisions that I carried out and do with Marta The Nicer, out of the love-of-it and spontaneous “kick.” People shake my and Marta The Nicer’s hand, some don’t. Some say we’re just crazy. But whenever a cool “recognition” happens, I simply savor it.
This one paragraph in an article (about Peace Jones) that came out in the Mountain Xpress two issues ago, makes me feel rewarded and “paid” --“... Peace Jones got its start in 2004 at one of the Bonfires for Peace productions in Pritchard Park. The grassroots concerts featured up-and-coming area bands, most of which were not yet playing local clubs. While most musical acts have to climb the ladder of open mikes and coffee-house shows before they earn larger, paying gigs, the Bonfire series gave new artists a stage.” (For the complete article (by MX staffwriter Alli Marshall), http://www.mountainx.com/ae/2006/0927peacejones.php)

Here is my UPDATE:

[ ] The Traveling Bonfires is sponsoring the Asheville visit of a puppetry/circus troupe from West Virginia on the weekend of Nov 12. (Details will be announced soon.) The group is referred to me by local activist and writer, Clare Hanrahan... We have booked them at UNCA (Lipinsky Hall) on Nov 12. UNCA’s Student Government Association (with Anne Walch, intermediating/coordinating with Marta The Nicer) is co-sponsoring the event. SGA’s “puppetry group” will also perform. SGA also co-sponsored The Bonfires’ “N a Sonje” (from Haiti) Asheville visit few months ago.

[ ] The Traveling Bonfires “scrimmages” with Metabolism Productions’ young/college student poets (Devin Walsh, Jaye Bartell etc) on either Nov 18 or 29, at Malaprop’s. This is a poetry reading affair... Meantime, I will be the featured poet in Rena Wright’s “Poetry Performance South’s” inaugural poetry reading/open mic at CUP/Westgate Mall on Tues, Oct 10. After my 20-minute reading, there will be an open mic. Please come out...

[ ] We have started posting our “BONFIRES FOR VAMPIRES, Year 3: Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park” posters all over town. (Thanks Chris Johnson for the poster work.) Ingles Merrimon donates Halloween goodies to kids; Mellow Mushroom and West End Bakery donate food to performers and their families; Malaprop’s and The Bonfires Library donate gifts or prizes to the best Halloween costumes (adult and kids categories). There are some more Bonfires/Indie advertisers and supporters who vowed to donate whatever they could on our last Pritchard Park event for 2006. I will announce and acknowledge them later...

[ ] We have officially “launched” our little 10x10 spot at the newest community convergence venue in Asheville—the Center of Unlimited Possibilities... However, CUP’s leadership hasn’t put up the walls yet (that separate booths from each other), as they promised. I am kinda saddened by this since we’ve already paid the rent and annual membership few weeks ago... We need to start the “business” by properly displaying our “crafts&things” etc—but since it’s called “unlimited possibilities,” we’ll just see what the spirit would be able to work out in a few days or week. Meantime, we’ll just treat the space, for the time being, as a “flea market” spot—and be there each time there’s a big event, and sell stuff.

Me and Marta The Nicer visited the venue a few hours ago – to drop more Indies, and Wander and Blue Sky, plus Bonfires brochures—and also to confer with Bill, the events coordinator (I think). We are not booking shows there since they’re charging $300 for use of the main stage... Meantime, we may start our “multicultural” filmshowings there (in an adjacent room) on Nov 8, 7pm. I haven’t decided yet what to show though...

[ ] You may know, already by now, that me and Marta The Nicer have extended our “yard sale madness” to the huge, sprawling Smiley’s Flea Market in Fletcher NC—every Sunday, 8am to (usually) 5pm. The space’s rent is $12/day. In case you still have “yard sale” donations to give, just ring us up... You can also sell/hang out with us there. It’s fun, it’s like I am in Mexico, Bristol TN, and China, all at the same time/same place... I also bought a replica samurai sword and a Frodo knife there, for only $3 each from a Chinese vendor. Flea markets are fun, I also saw Travis Tritt and Kenny Chesney there, no kidding! The vendor in front of us sells Confederate Army memorabilias. This is a gig that I enjoy!

[ ] My good friend Maria Lapachet (based in NY and Long Island) volunteers to secure us a grant at Flint Bank (is it Flint Bank?) where she works. But I realized that, uhh—I am confused where our 501c3 number is, what is a tax number, etc etc. Cicada Brokaw (of WNC Peace Coalition) told me that since we’re incorporated as a nonprofit in New York state in 2000, we are national... A non-profit dude in Wilmington NC (when I used to live there) assured me that our incorporation is still fine... But I wanna make sure. So anybody who may want to help me and Marta The Nicer research about this, please let us know. (Muchas gracias, Maria, for the initiative...)

THANK YOU DEPARTMENT: Rosetta Rzany for the tent, Justin Gostony for the Bonfires banner, Matt Mulder and Dale/Loretta Hoffman’s neighbors for winter logs and mulch/chips for our yards, Virato for the radio spot and the continuing cool vibe, Cheryl and Missy and Janis of Ingles Merrimon for all the kindness and support. I AM SORRY DEPARTMENT: To all Indie, Wander, Blue Sky writers for my typo goofs and copyreading booboos.

Now, I gotta go back to the Yankees-Tigers game.
Toksa Ake!
--Pasckie

UPDATE (09.17.06)—Website at Last, CUP/Westgate Store, Toksa Ake!

2006-09-22T03:33:00.000-07:00

TODAY's (Sunday) weather temp is on the 80s—so there you go... A great reason to go out and escape from the obligatory monthly-bills funk and consecutive days of rain. Come over to West Asheville—and pore over The Bonfires Sunday Yard Sale. Apart from the Philippine crafts & products that we’ve started selling last weekend, we have new “found treasures” to dig through – from 50 cents to $7 (all items, negotiable). Check it out—we have an awesome collection of 70s LP records... and more.

I WOULD like to make special mention of my friend (artist/painter) Daniel Stuelpnagel of Baltimore who had a successful exhibition in Hawaii. Danny’s one of the most avid followers of The Bonfires in Baltimore and Washington, DC. Since summer last year, the dude has been unstoppable. He launched one exhibit to the other. Part of his email, “... looking forward to hopefully relaxing a bit along with work for the show in Maui. Your energy has inspired me a lot since we met; keep up the good work! Aloha and love, Danny.”
It always feels good to know that my pushiness, persistence and stubbornness kind of inspire and motivate other people. I am very proud of that strange, weird attitude of mine. I am never adversely affected or frustrated by criticisms, detractors, or skeptics. Because of that, I don’t see defeat or failure – it’s hard to fail when you simply get up and do it again each time you fall. More than anything else, I LOVE what I am doing and I am having fun doing these things. Those who tried to shoot the madness down or downplay the Yoda-kicked energy, most of them, are gone... But we are still here.

YES, IT’S FINAL. We now have a small (10x10) space or display store at the Center for Unlimited Possibilities (CUP) in Westgate Mall (West Asheville). CUP occupies the huge space that a religious “bargain/thrift” store used to have. [Monthly rent for the space is $180 + I think $75 for annual CUP membership.) The store officially opens on the first week of October.
Apart from the few crafts&things from the Philippines (and Indie/Wander/Blue Sky copies), we don’t have a lot to display or sell at this point in time. So if you have anything to sell or display, you are invited to share the small space with the Traveling Bonfires. (So far, it’s only artist Jen Bowen who signified interest in displaying/showing her paintings there.) Put your own price, we’ll maybe add $2 that go to The Bonfires—CUP gets 20% from all merchandise that get sold. They will have two check-out counters. But you are also invited to sit there and be the volunteer salesperson. Me and/or Marta will visit the space at least once a day.
CUP will have regular, ongoing activities—so we expect a minimum of 200 people getting in and out of the center on a daily basis. I also submitted a proposal to hold regular (possibly weekly) filmshowings there. As ever, we will focus on multicultural cinema.

OTHER NEW DEVELOPMENTS:
[ ] Finally, our long-overdue website – for Traveling Bonfires and Loved by the Buffalo Publications (publisher of The Indie, Wander and Blue Sky Asheville), combined – is now under construction. Local artist Jen Bowen is doing the design, development and some more. We expect to have it viewable in a month’s time. [Thanks to Matt Mulder for the design of the Loved by the Buffalo logo.]
[ ] As I have already announced – please mark Sept 30 (10:06am to 11am) on your calendar. I will be interviewed by Virato (VIRATO LIVE!) at Revolution Radio on that day, 10:05 Sept 30. Details (time, pod/webcast, radio broadcast etc), go to--http://viratolive.com/#09-30-1-06
[ ] Ingles will be donating candies and pastries to kids in the event of our “Bonfires for Vampires: Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park” on Oct 20, 4pm to 10pm. Touch Samadhi DJs will be back. It will be an all-costume Halloween gathering. We will hand our surprise gift/s to The Most Weirdly Awesome Costume.
[ ] We repeat, our Ford 1984 Super Wagon is for sale. Cost is negotiable, get in touch with Marta The Nicer. The van is currently parked at Ingles parking lot in Merrimon Avenue—where Marta works from 6am to 3pm.

THANKS DEPARTMENT: To Tom & Debi Athos, and their staff, for Organicfest (Sept 9), and Kitty Love and her staff & volunteers for Lexington Avenue Arts & Fun Festival (Sept 10). For their donations (for The Bonfires yard sale): Mike Hopping, Cheryl (of Ingles-Merrimon)... for some significant work and implements (Rena Wright, Kevin Innes, Matt Mulder, Karen Helman, Janis Rose, Dale & Loretta Hoffman).

This is a relatively shorter Update, but I guess, that is good. Now, I gotta go back to my movie (“Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia”). As ever – live good, love good, and eat good food!

Toksa Ake!
--Pasckie
Asheville NC.
12:56midnight. Sunday.

UPDATE (08.31.06)—“American Adobo,” Crafts Business, 61 Dunwell Av is Liberated!

2006-09-04T10:51:00.002-07:00

FIRST OFF—Benefit showing of the American-Filipino feature film, “American Adobo.” Tomorrow, Aug 31 (Thurs, 5:30pm), at the Lord Auditorium of the Pack Library in downtown Asheville. Suggested donation is $2. Check out Ken Hanke’s brief review in this week’s issue of Mountain Xpress.
Fancy (or surreal, that is) that, I’ve been sort of lovingly/compromisingly/offensively embroiled with “cross-cultural” heat/miscues lately. What do I mean? Probably, the word is “misunderstood/over-understood” about being “different” (read, culture-related)... I had a number of encounters with friends/acquaintances/new hook-ups where my “weird views” about/from sexuality, relationships, marriage to pet maintenance and animal care to US paranoia (“homeland” security, “ailments,” fear of people) came into the fore. This movie sort of (I hope) explains some of my “weirdness” ... although I find some or most of the characters (in the movie) stereotypical and “shallow,” I believe the movie articulated some of the “cultural truths” that I repeatedly, painstakingly, desperately try to articulate in this dominantly white American community. It feels so good though to know that I never had significant problem with “scrimmaging” with my friends in smaller North Carolina towns (Candler, Oteen, Weaverville, Hickory, Spruce Pine, Cherokee etc), born- and bred Southern Americans. It’s amazing that despite knowing only bits and pieces of the country and culture where I came from, they could easily understand and accept my sensitivities and sensibilities...
Fascinating but not really. Back home, I was happier hanging out in the barrios and countrysides than in big cities – that is why I maintained and sustained life and living in a bustling city (where I worked and built a professional career) and small town, at the same time. (Check out my column piece in the new issue of The Indie – I explored that subject deeper.)
Anyhow, please come and watch “American Adobo” at the downtown library.By the way, chicken-pork adobo is the dish that I usually offer/cook to friends who visit my house. What about “dinakdakan”? It’s actually pressure-cooker “steamed” pig ears sautéed on black peppers, onions and red wine – and smothered with mayonnaise. (Traditionally—the way we did it back home—we use pig brain, yuck, instead of mayonnaise.) So wanna check that out? (I have more Pinoy/Filipino movies in my house, in case you wanna watch some of them—we have a new 32” flatscreen TV, my new toy.)

MEANTIME, this Sunday (Sept 3, 11am—5pm), we will resume our yard sale/fundraiser in our frontyard (61 Dunwell Avenue, West Asheville). Tomorrow morning, another friend (who requested anonymity) is donating us a three-storage-full of things and stuff for us to sell. Our basement will be very busy... We actually have pretty good stuff, you might be interested.We will also resume our Bonfires Homeys Cookout on that day. So you wanna try my “dinakdakan”? It’s also cool with red wine... in case, you wanna stay over for the night. I just bought a bartender’s book. I’d like to do some of those margaritas and martinis and stuff. Time to chill, huh... Check out my new DVD collection, as well. (Chris Malz and Matt Mulder and family have expressed interest in coming back again...)

SO WHY am I inviting people to my house?
It’s because, effective Sept 2, WOOHOOO! We don’t have a summer roomie anymore!!! Well, the summer financial quicksand has sort of dried up considerably (although money issues will never go away, for sure)... so we are basically fine these days. I still do some work in Hickory and Morganton (from tending a farm to film editing to foot massage gigs) and Marta The Nicer is still accepting yard work, housecleaning and babysitting jobs (she still works 6am—2pm at Ingles). But it’s still a lot more peaceful and comfortable not to have roomies...
Our summer roomies were all very cool. So don’t mistake that – it’s just that I am the eccentric earthling here. I’d like to play my “House of the Holy” (Led Zep) LP record (or Abba #1 Hits), medium-full volume at 3am and paint my face at 4:17am, build a small bonfire on my backyard at 12:30midnight, or dance to “Stayin’ Alive” or Paul Mauriat’s “El Bimbo” when no one is watching... well, Marta The Nicer is okay. She doesn’t mind.
Seriously, I realize that I am EXTREMELY allergic to cats. My breathing has been very bad lately, and my eyes swell and I sneeze crazily like some “Tales from the Crypt” creature on a bad Friday night gig. Ahhh, I just don’t understand why we treat cats (or pets) more than we love and care for our dear hubbies and wives, girlfriends and boyfriends? I am NOT kidding, why? I don’t think cats or birds enjoy being a proclaimed “inside cat” for life, or caged thing with wings. Do we, human beings, relish doing a life sentence (in the slammer or maximum security) for just being human beings? What have these “pets” done to be treated that way? Can’t birds fly up the serene sky, cats roam the neighborhood trees, and fishes swim in the deep, blue sea.
Enough of that...

The TRAVELING BONFIRES’ little crafts/products entrepreneurial sideproject (also called “Traveling Bonfires”) is already underway. We just got the initial sample shipments of goods from Baguio City, Philippines. It’s not much but that’s enough to start things off.
These crafts (women’s jewelries, hand-painted earrings/bangles/pendants, house implements, blankets etc) were made or crafted by tribal villagers in the far northern mountain barrios (or barangays) of the Philippines’ main island of Luzon. I actually organized communities there – in regards community media, small and middle entrepreneurship etc. We purchased these stuff&things straight from the villagers so we are doing away with middlemen... Our slotpersons there are my younger bros Alvaro and Sonny.
We are also accepting orders from interested people – woodcarvings, antiques (Spanish-era furniture and furnishings), potteries/handwoven apparels. Me and Marta, have visited some shops and stores, not only in Asheville, but also in Cherokee, Charlotte, Marion, Morganton, Waynesville, Black Mountain – these spots also, automatically, become Indie/Wander/Blue Sky outlets. We have chucked a considerable number of mailings to Baltimore, DC, and NYC and just focused on Western NC. I will be displaying some of these crafts and products in our house in West Asheville, so feel free to drop by and check them out.

MEANWHILE, I am working on websites (finally!)
Eventually, I will design the accessories and house implements, as well as t-shirts and garments. But it’s quite too early to go to that. The Bonfires Cafe (and store) will also be out there, somewhere, sooner or later. Timing matters a lot – not market research or financial climate but “timing” as ushered by the Blue Sky God/dess.

SO OKAY, we will be at the Organicfest (Battery Park) on Sept 9, and Lexington Avenue Arts & Fun Festival on Sept 10. If case you feel like chillin’ with us, please come... you are welcome to hand out personal/organizational flyers and readings, or sell wares to help raise money to pay for cat food, err, no—I mean, the electric bill. The effervescent Virato will be interviewing an Indie/Bonfires staff, wanna try it?
So this is it. Life is always a cool rollercoaster ride, isn’t it so? Have you seen us with that new blue car? You see, it’s “blue”—just like the blue pimp van. Isn’t it cool to be driving all over town with a “real” vehicle now. I am enjoying my work/chill time/writing moments, me and Marta The Nicer also drive up somewhere beyond Asheville once in a while, I have been shooting basketballs lately, eating more chilled oysters than usual, I just beat my August deadlines for the Sept issues of The Indie, Wander, and Blue Sky... and on Friday – I will go fishing for trout, bass, herring and cod in Hickory, with or without Ernesto!

THANK-YOU DEPARTMENT: Thanks to Kevin Innes for the film projection provision, Alphonse Fazio for the Olive Garden dinner, Rena Wright & Karen Helman for the extra yard/house work for Marta, Kitty Love and Debi Athos of Organicfest and LAAFF for the free booths/ tents, Janis Rose for all the generosities, new friend and West Asheville resident Susan Strehler, Katie O’Haley (Brooklyn NY) and Siobhan Clarke (Dublin) for the nice, inspiring words, Edeena Pike & Olive Obina (Manila) for getting in touch, Matt Agent Mulder for agreeing to be my book’s graphic/layout artist, Bo Farson of WNC Jazz Society, ACT, Metabolism Productions (Chall Gray, Devin Walsh) for the free media passes, my eldest sis Tess for all your goodness in keeping the family together (after Mom died), and those—so many (but may not want to be mentioned here)—who donated stuff&things to our yard sale, Maraming Salamat po!

SPECIAL MENTIONS: To my dear friend Katie Kasben (who had a freak fireworks accident lately), please be well soon (I will cook pansit and adobo, whenever you are ready)... To my “bro” Dale Allen Hoffman, Godspeed with your new, brewing acting career... To my other “bro” Chris Malz, I will be there on your so-significant/so-life altering October gig (the biggest gig of your life, brother!) ... to my biological bros Alberto, Alfonso, Allan and Alvaro for wishing me well all the time (keep looking up the sky, `tol! I’ll fall from it into our backyard basketball court, one of these days...) and, finally to the Blue Sky God/dess’s new incarnate – Ty moyo solnyshko!

So, as ever, stay good, love good, live good, and eat good food!
--Pasckie aka Jack Sparrow
12:42 midnight
Asheville NC

UPDATE (07.28.06)—FilmLitFest, Wanted Book Reviewers, Virato Dude

2006-07-28T16:20:00.000-07:00

FIRST OF ALL, I’d like to, again, thank those who came over to my humble abode for my 106th birthday last Sunday (July 23) – Linda Brown, Dale & Loretta Hoffman and kids Mikey & Lucynda, Clay Jensen and friend Sky, Matt Mulder and son Ashton, Marilyn, Marta, Gayle Sovinee, Rena Wright and hubby Charlie, Virato and partner Dhiraja. Thanks, as well, for the food and drinks and gifts and thoughtful bday cards.
Although this is not bunched with the birthday blessings, I’d like to thank Ms Janis Rose for loaning us her (other) new car. A perfect gift! Janis is Marta’s co-worker at Ingles. (She also housed us for few weeks after we left downtown in a huff last April—while we were scouting for a permanent abode.) Our “pimp van” is comfortably parked on her yard—yes, waiting for a buyer (a trade deal is welcome, as well).

SO TODAY (Friday, the 28th) is the first day of Bell Chere. No, I am not avoiding it—I never avoided it. In fact, I’d like to hang out for at least a day—and observe what’s going on in my community. Good, engaging stuff to write. I treat this episode like how I treat my journalism/writing gigs – to write about crime, I have to cover the police beat, to say shit about corporate mud, I have to plunge in. Bell Chere is a miniature of Manhattan; I don’t want to embrace the gilded, cellophane flesh but I often miss the blinding glare. So much for the metaphor... you know what I mean.
Me and Marta The Nicer Osbourne will be cruising the streets of Haywood, College, Patton, Walnut etc on Saturday, the 29th. I was invited by Virato to plug The Indie and Traveling Bonfires (he’ll be having a radio booth at Grapescape/Pack Square) but I’m not sure if I can make it there that “early. “
That night, I’m on Crooked Routes’ guest list at Westville Pub so we’ll culminate our Bell Chere dalliance with Vince Jr & friends’ cool, mountain music. I am also invited at The Wedge for the “RANT & RAVE - Phase III: UNIFY” show with local spoken artists, including Glenis Redmond and Washington DC-based Guerrilla Poetry Insurgency. (Thanks for the invite, Graham H and Shahid B of The Insurgency. I invited Shahid & company, who host me when I travel to DC, to drop by the house before they leave town.)
Meantime, Drum DeCirce of Peace Jones also phoned in an invite (check him out near Patton Av), and Jen Bowen sent in invite postcards and warm words—she will be culminating her digital art exhibition at Hookah Joe’s this weekend. Come drop by their shows... Steph Morgan and Stephanie’s Id are also playing.
Oh well, I can tolerate Bell Chere and other corporate/consumerist lunacies – I always do. But not when “unrealistic” jewel-shaking new downtown nouveau riche influence the course of cultural/creative life in a city that they just invaded. It’s good that their dubious move to “kill” the Friday Drum Circle at Pritchard Park didn’t fly. I will rant more about this in my Blue Sky/Smoke Signals column this mid-Aug. I don’t understand why they chose to live downtown and expect the peace&quiet of a mountain idyll. I mean, there’s The Cliffs and Mt Mitchell...

OKAY, THE UPDATE.

[ ] Anybody have time to review books for The Indie? Titles that I have here, laying so lazily on my desk: “Zoro’s Field” (essays) by Thomas Rain Crowe, “The Simultaneous Mountain” (essays) by Victor Depta, and “Under The Sun” (poetry volume) by Glenis Redmond. Thanks to their agents for sending me the books and manuscripts.
My apologies to Maria Lapachet (poetry volume, New York) and Alphonse Fazio (play/farce, Asheville) for not being able to get back to them about my reactions to their manuscripts. I have been such a slacker lately, but I’ll be emailing you in a few days... Thanks also to Jim Sullivan of South Bend, Indiana (first submission), and Michael H. Brownstein of Chicago (second) for their new contributions to Wander.

[ ] Don’t forget – The Bonfires’ fundraiser film screening of “Imelda,” the documentary about the shoe-obsessed former Philippine First Lady. The venue – Lord Auditorium of Pack Library, downtown Asheville. Date/time – Aug 10, Thurs, 5:30pm. $2 donation is suggested. Thanks to Kevin Innes for the provision of film projector. Ken Hanke, Mtn Xpress’ film critic, will be reviewing this Sundance-winning documentary in the magazine’s Aug 9 issue.I am seriously considering regularly showing multicultural films and documentaries at the Pack Library, starting with “Imelda.” Twice a month.

[ ] The first Vagrant Wind Independent Film & Literary Competitions kicks off this fall. This means that after I got deluded and tired of incessant bookings, we are dabbling with filmfests and literary contests for amateur auteurs and high school/college creative writers, respectively. The network reaches to Asia and Europe, apart from US coast-to-coast. For more details, check out -- http://vagrantwindproject.blogspot.com/

[ ] The Traveling Bonfires’ small-&-medium entrepreneurship (crafts, woodcarvings, apparel, antiques etc) from the mountain city of Baguio in the north of the Philippines to Asheville – is slowly but surely shaping up. Expect new products/samples on our Sept and Oct booths at the Lex Av Fest and Organicfest. There is no way that we can properly finance The Indie and the other publications (including small book projects) if we don’t go to surefire ROI (return-of-investment) projects.

[ ] New ads to The Indie, Wander, Blue Sky: Virato Live/Revolution Radio (tradeoff), Three Brothers Restaurant (1/8th page). Most of our current advertisers also renewed their year-long ad contracts. (Salut to Marta The Nicer!) Meanwhile, we have also expanded our distribution to Black Mountain... We need more writers for Blue Sky (spirituality, religion, healing arts, healthy living) and Spanish-language contributors to all the magazines. (Marta negotiation persuasive power -- one-month credit line with Iwanna Printing Press.)
A little sidestory about my intro to/with Virato. Time—maybe four years ago, downtown Asheville. I arranged a marketing-related meeting with the bearded dude at Malaprop’s. Midway through our conversation, I noticed that the cafe/bookshop’s staff were kinda glancing at us with a really fishy glare. Then, Linda Knopp (Malaprop’s number two person) motioned for Virato; they chatted away from me. After a few minutes, Virato went back to our table and said, “Ah, do you know that I am banned from entering this bookstore again? But when I told Linda that I’ll be helping you with marketing of The Indie, they lifted the ban!” That pushed my ego up... Four years hence, The Indie’s valued spot at Malaprop’s feels like “a rose among a thousand other roses” (to evoke Exupery).

[ ] We will be having Traveling Bonfires/Loved by the Buffalo booths at the Organicfest on Sept 6, and Lexington Avenue Arts & Fun Festival on Sept 10. We will be selling/breaking in crafts and stuff from the Philippines (I hope the first shipments arrive fast). Meantime, our Sunday benefit yard sale reconvenes on Aug 6. So feel free to drop your donated wares to 61 Dunwell Avenue.

SO THAT’S IT. On Sunday, I’ll be struggling with my own “book-projects” while I work on the magazines. Thanks for the “how-are-you” emails from Gaither Stewart (Rome, Italy), Mariko Shimada (Tokyo), Duane/Demi/Donna Pascua (Manila), Siobhan Clarke (Dublin, Ireland). Life is still a gift despite intermittent blues&funk. I just enjoyed chicken adobo, boiled white rice, and rumcoke. I still find cool treasures at Goodwill and Habitat like a turntable/phonograph for $10 and an old Royal typewriter for $1.50. I have restarted collecting hardbound books, long play vinyl records, and sunglasses.
As epilogue—book/DVD/CD/shows tips: (1) Book—“Mystic River” by Dennis Lehane, (2) DVDs—“Greenstreet Hooligans” (about London’s soccer thugs) and/or “Everything is Illuminating” (both films starring Elijah Wood), (3) CD—“The Very Best of Linda Ronstadt” (includes awesome covers of “Just One Look” and “Tracks of my Tears,” and my guilty pleasure, “Heart Like a Wheel”), (4) Shows—Wednesday evening gigs by my good friend Katie Kasben (Katie Kasben Trio) at Cafe by the Square in downtown Asheville. Don’t forget to request “Ain’t Misbehavin’” and “Begin the Beguine.”

SO AS EVER—live good, love good, and eat good food!
--Pasckie
2:41am, Asheville NC

UPDATE (07.08.06)--Indie Printing Schedule, Bonfires Cafe, 61 Dunwell Stories

2006-07-09T09:31:00.000-07:00

COOL WORDS FOR THE WEEK:
... He carries poetry to the people
as simply and calmly
as a loaf of bread.
[Yevgeny Yevtushenko on Pablo Neruda]

AS EVER, my apologies for not being able to update one and all in the past few weeks. It has been a prolonged "reflective break" for me. First up (I guess, a good news), The Indie is up for printing -- as per Iwanna's (printer) schedule for the month -- either on July 17, 18 or 19. In case you deem it necessary to revise, change or update your respective articles (Mike Hopping, Gaither Stewart, Karen Helman, Linda Brown) and columns (Lady Passion, Debbie Metcalf, Benjamin Bernstein), let me know. This coming issue should be out on the third week of July, which means stories/articles apply to August timeline. Again, my apologies for the inconvenience.
Apart from the obvious funding/budgetary constraint, I had to focus/concentrate on a more pressing/practical concern -- my immigration status in the US. For the last four years, it has been a debate within my family circle in Manila and the West Coast whether I'd pursue (American) citizenship or not. So these days, that's where my mind is mostly concerned with. Until my Mother's death last year, I haven't really considered 100% to at least try to seek citizenship. Now, it's not just my Mom's passing that made me decide once and for all... While I'm not illegal, it has been very hard for me to smartly finance and professionally manage my projects in the US, esp. that I am far from my family support ssytem. Seeking citizenship means more money (mostly attorney's fees), more paperwork, more budget planning. I guess, that also explains why I prioritized spending to secure a permanent house in West Asheville under my name in the last three months in favor of paying up (magazine) printing back account and putting more time and money with Traveling Bonfires projects (like what we did in the last three or four years). Having a permanent residency in a US city where I generally contribute or carry out community work should help speed up my papers.
So these days, I seek more paying jobs instead of pursuing gig bookings and club fundraisers (that don't really return investments). Although I still plan to organize and produce shows (apart from "Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park"), I will be more entrepreneurial than idealistic/quixotic this time out. Moreoever, while the monthly park events keep us on "community map" (esp. at the time that the magazines "rested"), it also (at least) breaks even with expenses through tips and donations. There will be upcoming Bonfires projects, for sure (discussed below)... meantime, me and Marta The Nicer are available for any kind of side-job -- nanny work, babysitting, simple graphics work, housekeeping/cleaning, yardwork, tutorials etc.

MY VISIBILITY in downtown has diminished considerably as a result of my more "realistic/smarter" budget consciousness. It's hard to come check downtown Asheville out these days without spending. Chillin' in my house and hosting dinners with longtime friends are cool and less cost-oriented. I expect more friends to come for a visit and chat. Matt Mulder and family, Dale Hoffman and family, Linda Brown, Chris Malz, Jonah Goldwag, Chris Johnson, Steve (*Diuvei) Rasmussen, and new neighborhood friends Tammy Myers and Lynn Adkins, have individually dropped by, had dinner, and spent time here. Jim Cox and wife Paulette, Rena Wright, Bob Brown and wife Mollie also promised to come over one of these days. I also occasionally babysit Dale's kids -- Mikey and Lucynda.
It's family and I like it this way -- something that I couldn't freely do when I was on 70 Woodfin Place or 62B Lexington Avenue. So it's just 61 Dunwell Avenue and Haywood Road. We have two temporary summer sublet roomies -- Gayle Sovinee from San Diego and Jessica Ziegler from Chicago. Gayle has given up California for North Carolina -- right now, she's scouting for a house to buy so in case you got leads, let her know. She's very cool 5'11" lady. (Karen Helman becomes our permanent roomie by mid-August or Sept.)

OTHER UPDATES.

[ ] Wander and Blue Sky Asheville should come out middle of August. I will sure interperse Wander or Blue Sky with The Indie... for sure, I'll devise a way to make these three magazines more profit-oriented. Meantime, in case you'd like to find ads, we could give/offer cool commission rate/s--to as high as 35 percent... Another way that has been helping us raise buffer fund is by way of donations or subscriptions. Marta is very good at it--while fixing coffee at Ingles Merrimon, friends donate money for The Indie. So thanks to her workmates Melissa Sumner, Steve Meisner, Jennifer Parker, Alison, Janis, and Missy for the kind hearts. Well, if you have friends who might wanna share $5 or few more to this continuing madness, just email me the address/contact info, we'll send them copies and/or free ad space.

[ ] We are definitely (date undecided yet) showing the Sundance-winning documentary, "Imelda" (about the shoe-obsessed former Philippine First Lady) this summer. I have started talking with Jonah Goldwag of Fortune Bldg/WestAshe for the kickoff screening this July. This filmshow project could be an end of summer till winter program. The main features shall be paired off with shorts that could be motivations for discussions (starting with New Yorker Penny Lane's "The Abortion Diaries"). I am also mulling over a Vagrant Wind Independent Film Festival and poetry/fiction writing (as a Wander promo project) -- though I need to brainstorm these projects more. (Last winter, Jim cox has also suggested a literary contest.)
Meantime, I am trying to forge out-of-town, beyond Asheville poetry readings and filmshows -- to basically pitch my work and drum up interest with the Vagrant Wind Filmfest and the literary competitions. I am talking about mostly NC "college" cities -- Durham, Chapel Hill, Greensboro, Winston-Salem, Wilmington, etc.

[ ] The cafe business brainstorm is still here, consistently being discussed and explored. Right now, we have at least two other people/co-partners who are very interested in pursuing this entrepreneurial project. We simply need to invest on endeavors that could usher more income to support the publications. Other possibilities on discussion -- house rental/bread&breakfast, catering service.

[ ] I have initially negotiated/discussed website development work (for Loved by the Buffalo Publications and Traveling Bonfires) with Kathy Hardin and Lindsay Hardin of Compass Point, LLC (based in Hickory). But I need to study more the contract that they submitted. Those who are knowledgeable about rates vis-a-vis web work, maybe you could give me advice. Meantime, in case you have some leads for more website devt service/work, let me know.

LASTLY, y'all are invited to my 106th birthday on July 23, a Sunday. We could celebrate it on that Saturday weekend, if that works better with your schedule. It's potluck although I will sure prepare more Filipino food (c/o my Pinoy chef-homey in Patton Avenue). We can also do the frontyard sale on this day.
So that's it -- everything's cool, so far. Again, please check out your last-submitted articles in case they need revision/rework... It is great to be living in a real home--as usual cooking more good food, and feeling like my house and yard is the world (I pitched a tent on my backyard besides a small bonfire pit). I watch more TV, as usual (although most are "bad" news but I get to be more abreast with what's going on... North Korea, World Cup, Jacko's neverending troubles, Nancy Grace's "sexy bitchiness," and oh man, I like watching goofy commercials and "Law and Order" and Jeopardy)--to complement my incessant New York Times and Rolling Stone readings.
Right now I am reading Adam Feinstein's biography of Pablo Neruda, rereading Amy Tan's "The Kitchen God's Wife," and Ethan Hawke's "Ash Wednesday" and about to finish the Johnny Depp movie, "The Libertine." (I didn't enjoy "Syriana" as I did another Stephen Gaghan-penned film, "Traffic" though -- the latter was crafted/written more powerfully and smartly than the former, to my opinion. Meanwhile, I recommend "16 Blocks" -- Mos Def is usually an excellent, underrated actor.)
Have a great sunny Saturday. Live good, love good, and eat good!
--Pasckie
1:35am
July 8. Saturday

UPDATE (06.11.06)--DJs at the Park, Dunwell Women, “I heard the news today..."

2006-06-13T09:38:00.000-07:00

IT FELT LIKE a long, long time, indeed. I finally found myself in downtown Asheville again—for yesterday’s “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park.” It’s the third event (or month) of the program’s third year in this city. Chris “Kri” Johnson and Touch Samadhi’s family of trance Goa DJs were back. They will do it again on July 1.
With DJs featured at the Bonfires for Peace at the park would also mean that, (1) we don’t have to spend money on PA/sound (they come equipped with their own gears and equipment), (2) I don’t have to stress myself out with added supervision worries (ie timeslot lookout, rowdy “homeless” distraction etc), (3) a good crowd attendance is assured and sustained from first beat to closing bars, (4) we earn more by way of tips, (5) more methodical, systematic, coordinated program flow (since Touch Samadhi performs as a solid/dynamic “collective” – a concise, disciplined bunch of mixing board techies with a tight community of followers, friends, family members).
[Thanks to Mellow Mushroom for the “Bonfires” pizzas, by the way.]
Despite the very heart-warming crowd turnout though, for some reason I still felt kinda “lost” or “indisposed” out there after a brief “isolation/respite.” I feel that I’m not yet ready to come out of my shell. In fact, I had to cut short my “long-overdue break” in a friend’s house in Hickory to be present at Pritchard Park yesterday (with Marta The Nicer). I had to be there...
I don’t intend to stop this, what I call Traveling Bonfires’ centerpiece community project, but I would readily welcome a reliever staff so I could “disappear” once in a while. I don’t know if I am burning out, just exasperated with downtown’s new “cosmeticized” girth (punctuated by my most recent misfortune in Lex Av) or I am just tired and weary and been struggling to focus on more “personal” brainstorms (eg Loved by the Buffalo Publications magazines and books).

I’D LIKE TO reiterate that, for now, Traveling Bonfires programs are confined to just the “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park.” We may continue this monthly event till the Oct/Nov “Bonfires for Vampires” season closer... That’s how I feel at this moment but that may change, depends on significant developments that may crop up this summer. For the meantime, no filmshows, open mics, coffeeshop shows, Wander lectures etc.
We may, however, organize a poetry reading again at Malaprop’s but I am not sure yet (like, if I could convince Glenis Redmond to read for The Bonfires, we’ll do it). I may read in some community invites though (like the Asheville Arts Council gig a month ago). On Thurs (June 15, 9:30pm), I might be at Bobo Gallery (on invite from local poetry impresario, Graham Hackett).
Bottomline is, I’d like to continue the relatively low-profile tact these past few weeks or months (as opposed to the weekly/monthly local “madness” gigs and “crazy” up-north Vagrant Wind trips a year or two ago). I am not too motivated to organize a club show or fundraise event soon—unless, as I just mentioned, a nice (co-organizer) soul comes forward and offer, “Okay, I’ll work on it—manage, coordinate and market it, chill somewhere.”
[I have just decided on whom to accommodate/sign in as housemate/s and/or sublet roomies—after almost two months of frantic, painstaking search—so I expect to go on short beyond-Asheville trips (like seaside jaunts or mountain treks) in the coming weeks.

Meantime, I’d like to be more quietly “business-like” or entrepreneur-minded while I continue writing personal work, bask on The Indie/Wander/Blue Sky, and wallow at 61 Dunwell Avenue, West Ashe.
A week ago, Matt Mulder dropped by here for an early afternoon coffee chat, to—I reckoned—check how things are doing, so far. Late afternoon yesterday, Vanessa Boyd left me a phone message, asking if the Bonfires at Pritchard Park is happening—of course, it was or it did happen (she was there to say hello, by the way). Dale Hoffman will be back tomorrow to help work on the wireless (internet) hook-up all over the house and yard/periphery. I hope to see Linda Brown on Wed to continue our midweek one-on-one editorial sessions. I have asked/invited close friends and families to come visit the house and have dinner. I like it this way, these days... All those that read my postings/updates are very much welcome to chill and hang out in my house. Meantime, my yahoo and hotmail inboxes had been filled with sweet and concerned “How are you doing?” in the past two or three weeks. Some, I guess, got tired asking for updates—so they stopped emailing. (I thought I sent out an Update two or three weeks ago. But, yes, it was blurry and dazed.)

SO LET’S TALK BUSINESS and organization. The Indie will be out this month—with the tag, “Special 4th Anniversary Issue” (of course, I will announce that following pickup at Iwanna, whenever that is.) Wander and Blue Sky will have their first summer issue/s a week or two after The Indie/4th year gets delivered.
On Tuesday (June 13), I am meeting with Lindsay Hardin, a web designer based in Hickory, here in the house – to discuss the long-stalled, oft-aborted Indie/Bonfires website, plus book layouts/graphics. I need to get this accomplished soon. I am currently on the negotiating table (with at least three prospects) in regards investments and business feasibilities so I need these tools. Long time coming, I know...
The yard sale isn’t happening yet. We are still accumulating things and stuff to sell. Maybe on the last weekend of this month, we might be ready. Fancy that, I have been the one who’s visiting neighborhood yard sales lately (plus Habitat, Goodwill, Family Dollar, Big Lots, Amazing Savings for secondhand, bargain implements and cheaper groceries).

MY CHOICE of a new housemate and sublet/roomies could also be interpreted (like how my NY homey, Kate O’Haley, puts it) as “business moves.” Oh yeah, this housemate/roomie situation wasn’t a breeze as I expected it.
Our “permanent” housemate turned out to be Karen H, not Karen P. The “first” Karen (from Massachusetts) scared me—but, uhh, I don’t want to discuss here the reasons why... I pulled out of that deal, or we mutually voided our previous arrangement. The “second” Karen—Karen H—already writes for The Indie, and offered to help Marta with marketing/advertising.
Then we have a two-week (starts June 15) roomie in Suzette M, visiting from San Francisco. Says she, “I'm not the long-term-be-it-only-the-full-summer roomie. I'm the goddamn-gotta-find-a-place-to-move-to-man interested spirit who is looking for a place to live where the air is warm and sweet and stands still long enough for me to smell things.”
From June 21 to Aug 21, a fiddler from Chicago—Jessica Z—occupies the other room. So I expect fiddlin’ vibes in the mornings of my summer life... Then, from July 2 to maybe Sept, Gayle S. from San Diego CA, takes over the other room. She’s moving here in Asheville so she needed a few months to check things out, like a house to buy... Which means, I will be surrounded by women at 61 Dunwell all throughout summertime (that is, if I’m not on the road).

THERE’S NOT MUCH to update really other than what I just mentioned. Oh, a new advertiser is Orbit Video (our second in West Asheville). Apart from writing/reading (revisiting “The Power Shift” by Alvin Toffler and Daphne du Maurier’s fiction), watching DVD movies, sifting through cable “bad” news (more kidnappings and rapes, more deaths in Iraq, increased percentage of obesity in the US, Shaq’s messed-up foul line gigs, ah! Maria Sharapova and Martina Hingis lost! World Cup soccer, Food Channel...) I am basically quiet and peaceful at The Bonfires Abode.
Meantime, the words of wisdom for the week or month – from Michael Berg, the father of Nicholas Berg, a U.S. contractor believed to have been beheaded by Abu Musab al-Zarqawi in Iraq: “"I think al-Zarqawi's death is a double tragedy. His death will incite a new wave of revenge. George Bush and al-Zarqawi are two men who believe in revenge. Zarqawi felt my son's breath on his hand as held the knife against his throat. Zarqawi had to look in his eyes when he did it. George Bush sits there glassy-eyed in his office with pieces of paper and condemns people to death. That to me is a real terrorist."
So that’s it. In case you’re an insomniac and desperately needs a good sleep... get Terrence Malick’s newest cinematic exercise of perfumed ennui, “A New World” – it’s so freakin’ meditatively neat, it equals seven shots of cheap tequila.
Kampai!

--Pasckie

UPDATE (05.24.06)—Summer Homebody, Indie/Buffalo Regroup, Immigration Reality TV

2006-05-24T18:35:00.000-07:00

IT IS A MOSTLY sunny 80s Wednesday afternoon temp. Notwithstanding isolated/scattered thunderstorms and cloudiness in some days, it’s still basically at a high of 80s to lows of 58s/60s in the next few days. So summer is here. The spirit is on a more subdued sun/rain-drenched chill time, the “madness” is on a much-needed respite. What about you?
What’s going on with The Indie, Wander, Blue Sky Asheville, other Loved by the Buffalo projects, the Traveling Bonfires, Vagrant Wind road journeys...
I am taking things easy, reassessing/regrouping -- until the special 4th-year anniversary of The Indie in Asheville in July. We will definitely come out next month (I am not pressuring myself this much for now) and that issue shall cover the 4th-year birthday of the madness.
The Indie was reborn in Asheville NC in July of 2002, almost simultaneous with the Traveling Bonfires’ mountain coming -- from Manila, then New York City. The first Bonfires show was Oct 17 02 at Malaprops. I founded it in the mountains of the turbulent Cordilleras in the north of the Philippines in the summer of 1984, while covering the government’s anti-Communist insurgency program, eg war. When I “crashlanded” in Weaverville NC in the winter of 1999, I thought I was in the Cordilleras—it reminded me of that beautiful, fog-embraced, flower-bedecked province of my childhood.

THIS WOULD mean that the “anniversary issue” shall have more than the usual 28 pages. I am planning on 36 pages. But please take note that this issue will cover the entirety of July (+ last or two weeks of June). The next Indie, after that, should come out on the first week of August.
From now till the “birthday” issue comes out, I should have more time (to continue) to restudy options, reevaluate financial variables, redraw another 5-year entrepreneurial blueprint/plan, among many other concerns.
The quiet/peaceful aura that 61 Dunwell Avenue (aka The Bonfires Abode) offers me exactly that time/space to look within. More than five years in North Carolina... there are a lot of things to think about and meditate with. Apart from simply relaxing, that’s one reason why I’ve been inviting friends to come over and enjoy some chats, conversations/discussions, and dinner/barbecue in the house, help us make this also as your “spare abode,” or something. Bring your kids and pets (but, yes pls, no anacondas and pterodactyls).
There are so many, many things in this house that remind me of the many friends and supporters who helped me and Marta survive the “madness” all through the years. These beautiful things were all donated or loaned or given or sold/traded to me by the community.
So come over, bring some food to cook, maybe wine, ideas to discuss, or just watch a movie or do internet work (the house/periphery is wired). You can also hold one or two sessions of your writers workshop here or organizational meetings. I am always through with the backyard/garden landscaping and the porch is looking good.

AS I PREVIOUSLY indicated, distribution of our publications shall be handed to the Community Publishers Group, LLC—hopefully, starting the upcoming anniversary issue. CPG aims “to maintain a cooperative approach among independent publishers and manage joint paper boxes. The basic idea is a strength-in-numbers approach, which develops a long term presence” at choice and strategic spots in the community.
We have no choice but to go back to Iwanna Printing. Maybe or probably it’s true that being an immigrant or “outsider” in this town/city makes it hard to “trust” me. I can’t always say that 3/4th of my blood is native American Indian, even them are called “outsiders,” that is why, I guess, they confine themselves within the Reservation.
But I know that I have been leading a mysterious “outsider’s life” in Asheville, a predominantly white community. Business thinks I will just “hit and run” – oh well, five years of business/residency in this town won’t satisfy/reassure many. So we will simply take it easy – cash on delivery in the next printing, and henceforth. I am fine with paying up the one-issue each back accounts at Iwanna – and get the next issue out.

AS OF THIS WRITING, I still am not sure whether we’ll do a twice-a-month Indie (by Aug or start of 5th year), or combine Wander with The Indie, then Blue Sky with another “economically-viable” publication. I will announce later what’d be the final configuration, but for now, all magazines will come out in June.
I have submitted at least the past two years documentation (whatever that we retrieved) of these projects to the family lawyer/accountant for review—with the purpose of them giving me suggestions how to handle the future of this “madness” in this town. Apart from that, I have been rereading and rethinking advices and suggestions from you, those who have been here with us, in the last four years.
My lawyer/legal consult also has something to do with the current immigration debate vis-a-vis my own business/entrepreneurial plans vis-a-vis my so-called anti-war/anti US foreign policy stance (is it called activism?) In other words, my family’s advice, “Take it easy, relax, take care of your new house, and be extra-careful about your future in America.” Tonight or tomorrow or this week, I expect a call from my lawyer—after/when Senate’s decision reconciles with Congress. (I still don’t know if I’d apply for citizenship, the “practical/smarter” move – or maintain permanent residency.) My parents and my brother and almost all of my relatives in the West Coast and NY/NJ/CT are American (naturalized and/born in the USA) citizens.
No matter what happens, I do believe—family is family – irrelevant of the distance and space in between. This time, I will listen to their suggestions/advice.

THE TRAVELING BONFIRES’ projects this summer, at least, is all confined to “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park.” (The next is June 10 from 1pm to 10pm – of dancing with Touch Samadhi DJs). We are not booking any club or indoor events/gigs/concerts/poetry readings, for the time being. (We can read poems and sing songs in the house though.)
I have many (as ever) ideas and brainstorms but all these will have to wait until I get the publications on more stable and consistent character/stance/standing. One thing is sure—there will be no random/spur-of-the-moment bookings and collaborative relationships, anymore. Although I have reopened the possibility of discussing investments/partnerships with a few people, this time—my decisions shall come after/while lawyer’s advice is present.
Yes, I am open to partnership/investment talks and explorations – not only in terms of the publishing projects, but other entrepreneurial pursuits. These days we are on the negotiating table in regards the cafe/coffeeshop business, a catering venture (with a Filipino and American chef in town), and crafts/antiques imports project (from Asia). I might send Marta The Nicer to the Philippines within the year or early next year to help oversee the latter.

MEANTIME, I am fine in The Bonfires Abode – housework, NBA playoffs, sketching/prelim sculpture work, re-touching my 7-year old novel (“Waiting for Winter”), watching more movies. I am still not very excited with traversing through downtown (except occasional 30min visits to Pack Library, Malaprop’s and, of course, the supervision of the Pritchard Park events). Whenever I think of Lex Av, I still feel the wound – this downtown that once had me at hello has gone to sweet-talkin’ marauders who mouth the words of wisdom under ivory masks of entrepreneurial opportunism (subtle word in place of “corporate/profit-induced brinkmanship”).
By the way, in case you have any ideas, leads or suggestions – we are trading our van for a smaller vehicle that Marta The Nicer could maneuver easily and conveniently.
Okay, that’s it, for now. I hope y’all are slowly but surely sliding out of The Mercury Retrograde funk-by-the-mountain vibe. As ever – live good, love good, and eat good food!

GRACIAS! Saluti! Toksa Ake!
--Pasckie
2:40pm.

BONFIRES UPDATE (05.15.06): Late Mother's Day Notes, West Ashe Takin' It Easy

2006-05-15T16:28:00.000-07:00

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY! Yes. I am either a day advance or a day late. But to all the Mothers of Life – there are no you and me, without them. There is no way to return or repay that gift of life but to love and cherish and treasure life itself. Don’t waste it – feel good, live good, love good, and eat good food.
It’s the first Mother’s Day since my own Mom passed away (Aug last year)... I know she’s happy somewhere. She “watched over” a member of the family who has just gone through surgery in Manila. The operation happened two nights ago – three days earlier than scheduled but she’s safe now, recuperating.
I still am, sort of, reeling for not being able to get the May Indie out—due to this barrage of obstacles/problems that struck me almost all at the same time this month. But maybe, as in the usual case in my life, things like these happen to force me to rest, take it easy, regroup.
Rain has the ability to stop my relentless madness, I mean—rain sends me a message, as ever. Two years ago, rain stopped a “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park” to let me know that my Mom slipped into a coma; again, last year—on a Bonfires event at the park—rain made me stop the show, but the message was devastating. My Mom passed away that same August night.

HOW MANY friends tried in vain to convince me to take it easy, I am running so fast again. The seven-magazine madness, the all-weekend shows... Two years ago, the monthly Vagrant Wind up-north road journeys. The weekly club gigs.
I didn’t listen. I always fail to listen. In 1995, in Manila, I collapsed because of sheer burn-out; in 2000, in New York, I again almost lost breathing after I sunk myself in relentless, maddening work pace. I eventually had a surgery—which later, brought me to Weaverville, North Carolina to rest.

I AM NOT whining anymore and be angry that Iwanna refused to print The Indie – though I only owe them one issue’s worth of back account. The other community paper that we love to read owes them $5000. That’s okay. I should have looked for an alternative printer a long time ago. My fault.
At this moment, it’s either I pay up upfront (as in cash-on-delivery) or print somewhere. I will be talking with The Blotter’s John Pence today to see if their printer’s (based in Athens GA) work specs and printing cost fit ours. If it doesn’t, I will have to bring the work back to Iwanna. (I also emailed Mountain Xpress’ production/distribution people for some advice.)I will update one and all this week.

THIS BRIEF RESPITE makes me regroup and reassess The Indie and the other publications (under Loved by the Buffalo) and Traveling Bonfires projects. This new house gives me that peace and quiet to pore deeper and calm down. For sure, I don’t really feel good about going downtown these days. Apart from the “Bonfires for Peace” at the park, I don’t see reason why I’d go there these days... (The next Bonfires is on June 10, featuring the Touch Samadhi family of trance goa DJs, from 1pm to 10pm.)
I again feel semi-reclusive. I am satisfied walking from Dunwell Av (the house) to Haywood Rd here in West Asheville – to have coffee at West End Bakery or Ideal Market Cafe, grab a Highland Ale at Westville Pub on Tuesday blues/rock night, get a few DVDs at Orbit, buy house implements and garden tools at Dollar General and all the thrift shops on the block.
Meantime, distribution of all our publications will/shall be handled by the Community Publishers Group, LLC, headed by Sammy Cox of Mountain Xpress. I will have a meeting with him and his partner Jessie around May 24. I am intent on handing distribution of The Indie etc to this professional/organized community group—me and Marta are apparently tired (as well as gasoline cost-exasperated).
Currently, I am doing a lot of replanning/pencil-pushing.

I’D LIKE TO free myself up of pressing administrative/marketing chores—so I could concentrate more on editorial and project planning/redrawing. This house gives me more breathing room. I am making my basement as a workshop/backup library/art studio. I have started landscaping the backyard/garden – and turn it into a “meditation spot,” chill area/meeting area, greens and flower/orchids garden. I will have a small pit for a bonfire. The patio/porch is also good for writers groups meetings and chat area. The fenced frontyard will be a playground for your kids and pets.We will have the entire house and immediate periphery/yard wired (wireless) via MAIN, effective first week of June. So when you come over for dinner, barbecue, yard sale visit, or meeting, you can simply check your emails from any part of the house.
You are all welcome. Bring some food that I could cook, or you can cook also. Bring drinks, as well. Our recent NJ/NY visitors, I reckon, loved my chicken adobo...

ME AND MARTA THE NICER don’t plan to book club gigs for now. Traveling Bonfires will only be focused with the Pritchard Park events. I may organize special ballroom gathering for my fellow Pinoys here (at Fortune Bldg) or maybe a singles dance party—but I don’t know when. Jonah G (owner of the building) is temporarily closing the area for couple of months, he said. It’ll be back soon though.
We will start the Bonfires Yard Sale on May 21. In case you want to donate stuff to sell, or you want to sell your merchandise/old things, as well—feel free to come over and join us. (We can pick your donations up in your house...)

I AM EXCITEDLY awaiting our new housemate, Karen P. She will be here around June 3 to 8, from Massachusetts. I decided to get just one other housemate – so there’ll only be three people in the house. But those who may want to paint, sculpt, make potteries etc with me in the basement/garage, feel free to come over and work with me.
I chose Karen from five other applicants to the room—I feel I can find some parallel vibes with her. She’s into cooking (she’s a chef), poetry, single, no pets, my age, and we have been talking in the last four or five days, everyday.
By the way, if you have friends who are visiting Asheville from this week to last week of May, looking for cheaper room, pls recommend ours. I only charge $200 for two weeks...

SO WHENEVER you’d like to hang out and be quiet (you don’t have to talk to me), watch a DVD movie, read, write—come over to our house. (Yes, you can bring your dog or cat—as long as they don’t mutate into anacondas and scorpions when struck by rain.) Bring your kids, too. I babysit Dale and Loretta Hoffman’s young Mikey and Cynda, once in a while.
This morning, Dale will help me do some garden work for an hour. Tomorrow, Janis Rose, Marta’s workmate at Ingles, will help us repaint the living room walls.
Finally, I feel like I am in a house at last, a home.

Buenas dias!
--Pasckie
1:15am.

BIG WEEKEND/BONFIRES UPDATE: Bonfires for Peace at P Park, W Asheville Party

2006-05-12T09:19:00.000-07:00

WHAT’S GOING ON? Well, a lot of things are going on. Bob Dylan and Merle Haggard are playing at The Civic Center on May 6. So expect a whole lot of Dylan/Haggard after-gig stuff. But with or without these rock/country megastars/legends coming to the mountains, The Bonfires burn this weekend. What else is new...
Nonsensical it may seem to mention it, although I can easily rant that I can’t or won’t afford a Dylan/Haggard tix, this past two or three weeks is my MOST EXPENSIVE MONTH in my life in Asheville, so far. But as ever, The Blue Sky God/dess watches over... this “madness faith” will guide me.
Securing a lease to a house that easily had me at hello is tough—considering my perpetual “ramen noodles” financial situation. Security deposit, a month’s advance, electric power/water/garbage collection initial fees, “little” house repairs (can’t wait for the landlord to fix them).
Then comes the most “expensive/lucrative” Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park event (or weekend) that we ever organized. When I say “lucrative” that is a Bonfires “house” definition – yet that money (almost $600) is actually “coffee money” when we compare it with the usual/ordinary outdoor concert budget. Backline (PA/sound etc) itself costs roughly $1200 to $2000 for just one Bell Chere stage or bar fine/upfront money at New York’s CBGB’s Downstairs Lounge for a summer gig when The Bonfires was based in The Big Apple six years ago. So when I say, “almost $600” – that’s already park rental, PA/sound provision, and other peripherals. The magic of negotiation still works somehow but STILL that is HUGE MONEY for me.

NOTE: I don’t use credit card, I don’t have a credit card—so all these are via cold cash. Where did we get the money? I don’t know – my usual response is, “I survived in Asheville or WNC in the last five years – The Indie survived, the Traveling Bonfires survived, the Vagrant Wind road tour sporadically survived, Marta The Nicer survived. We deserve a house to feel home sometimes, and say proudly with a PBR on hand, DAMN! WE SURVIVED!.” In the summer of 2002, as I published the first Indie in Asheville, I declared, “If I get pass three years here of unmitigated, unflagging, maddening slew of projects and programs—I get pass 100 years.” The Indie and The Bonfires will be four years old in the mountains this July.
One lesson that knocked me cold in the aftermath of the recent Courtyard Gallery/downtown misfortune – “I won’ t allow myself to be misread as a pauper anymore. I am not hungry and I am not homeless. I am just crazy.”

ANYWAYS, let’s have fun, nonetheless. The Blue Sky God/dess assured me that there’ll be great, awesome weather this weekend.

[ ] “BONFIRES FOR PEACE AT PRITCHARD PARK.” Year 3. Event 2. Downtown Asheville. May 6, Saturday, 4:30pm to 10pm.
Featured acts (sequenced as per playing program): <1>MALCOLM ROLLICK [www.malcolmrollick.com], singer-songwriter, from Brooklyn NY. <2>ADRIENNE NIGHTINGALE [www.adriennenightingale.com], singer-songwriter, from Brooklyn NY. <3>VANESSA BOYD & THE YES MEN [www.vanessaboyd.com], <4>BLUE NUMBER NINE [www.bluenumbernine.com], New Jersey-based 7-piece funk/r&b/rock group. <5>LAURA BLACKLEY & LOVEHANDLES [www.laurablackley.com]
Sound by Chris Cates. Food/drinks by Mellow Mushroom.

[ ] “A COMMUNITY HANDSHAKE/A Concert Party: The Traveling Bonfires Celebrate Move to West Asheville.” Fortune Building Ballroom, 727 Haywood Road. May 7, starts 7pm. Bring-your-own-drinks, Filipino food will probably be served for minimal cost, $3 donation goes to the visiting TBonfires guest-performers.
Featured acts: Blue Number Nine, Adrienne Nightingale, Malcolm Rollick, with John Staversky. Sound by John Staversky and Marco Accatattis. Thanks to Fortune Bldg owner Jonah Goldwag for the very generous booking/”neighbors” arrangement. The building is located on the same street or cross-street as ours (Dunwell Avenue). (Thanks Rena Wright for hooking me up.)

THE ENTIRE Blue Number Nine band (3 young women, 4 men) will be staying (May 6 after the concert till Monday morning) in what I call now as “The Bonfires Abode” on 61 Dunwell Avenue. The house isn’t fully ornamented/fixed/cleaned/decorated yet – so if you could possibly loan us your spare curtains, futons, blankets, wall decors, folding tables/chairs, grill, extra chinaware (I hate paper plates), we do appreciate it. Feel free to come over. BUT, remember, DON’T bring a baby anaconda or emanticipating alligator with you.

OTHER UPDATES:

[ ] Okay, let me yell silently, “I DON’T WANT TO BOOK IN ASHEVILLE CLUBS ANYMORE!!!” I guess, you get the drift. As the ringmaster in “Cabaret!” admonishes, “Money, money, money.” For one, our New French Bar gig (on May 4) was bumped off by a jazz/dance act that was a sort of “Best in WNC.” Sure beers, sure profits.
Sad. Look at these bands—they are asked to bring in their PA/sound, they’re not properly promoted by clubs, they don’t get paid. And they get bumped off, just like that. If someone’s gonna tell me that the only way to buck the (club) odds is to join the voodoo dance, nah. I will continue burning my bonfires and I will continue finding venues for those who want to share their music ahead of finding $$$ to score their new iPod. I will continue to find good souls who vibe with this madness... I haven’t explored 1/16th of the world for half of life’s beautiful blessings yet.

[ ] The TOUCH SAMADHI FAMILY of trance goa DJs will be back at the “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park” on June 10. They opened the 2006 program last April 15 to a rousing, dance-crazy humanity. We earned $110 (of non-aggressive tips-persuasion) on that event, didn’t I mention that? Well money that you get from people who are pleased and elated by the “madness” makes you really feel good – although the amount is not even half of that day’s event’s total budget. I got home with a full soul, my stomach was fed by Mellow Mushroom’s mozzarella.By the way, Chris Johnson and the DJs will be donating some cash, too, on this event—to make it a whole day public dance trance/party. That is most likely 12noon to 10pm. And we will most likely bring back bellydancers again!

[ ] Lineup for July 1 “Bonfires for Peace” – Lionz (from Athens GA), Chris Cates Band, Hippie Shitzu, Sally Spring Band (from Raleigh NC), and blues finger-picking wiz Patrick Fitzsimons.

[ ] Of course, you know that Blue Sky has already come out. Any comments? Kate O’Haley’s comment: “Oh man, typical Pasckie publication!” I don’t know if that’s good or bad. And, THANK YOU gallery (for lots of blessings in the past few months or weeks) – Dale Hoffman, Linda Brown, Jonah Goldwag, Hannah Seng, Janis Rose, Rachelle Arrowood, Katie Kasben, John Staversky, Rena Wright, Steve Rasmussen, Mark Anderson, Gaither Stewart (for all the fatherly advice), Matt Mulder, Pinoys-in-Asheville Jimmy and Jeff, Graham Hackett (for having me read poems at Asheville Arts Council), and my entire family in Manila, LA, Phoenix and Las Vegas.

LAST BUT NOT THE LEAST... in case you happen to visit us and tries to enter via the front door and no one answers the knockings—pass by the “secret door” (not secret anymore) which is the sidedoor to my office. I stay there like 85% of my time—embroiled in an abyss of work and/or culinary indulgence (the office is adjacent to the kitchen).
It’s 7:25 on a Thursday morning. I will either go back to bed or have Cafe Cubano and finish watching Catherine Breillat’s “Sex is Comedy.”

Buenas dias!

--Pasckie
7am. Thursday.

04.07.06—Warmest Day, Bonfires at Dunwell, BlueNumberNine

2006-04-07T23:26:00.000-07:00

THE WARMEST DAY so far. We brought our cute, yellow birds and parakeets at the front door to enjoy the warm West Asheville breeze—facing the relatively quiet street. Me and Marta The Nicer planned to mow the lawn but The Indie’s April issue had to be picked up... Danzig Jr and Kelly The Younger Osbourne painted the entire living room, cream green—which is fine.
Indeed, each coming of The Indie, or any of these “tabloid soundboards” that I opt to shelter my oft-bloodied truths, is like a new lease on life. The feeling is so cool , it’s like having a new baby—straight from the womb of glory, moist and fresh and hopeful.
61 Dunwell Avenue—the “madness’” new abode is lookin’ good! I slowly but surely starts to feel the peace-and-quiet vibe again. I cleaned up the basement, dusted the ceilings, stuck a good number of Bonfires posters on the walls, situated wooden chairs on the porch. My office is also ready to rock—my first “office” visitors were Diuvei/Steve Rasmussen and Kevin Innes (and Nina Collins, briefly).
Financial distractions (that go with moving to a new residence), as usual, pose temp hassles but that is okay. I just cooked marinated chicken-on-garlic/onion on margarine over lo mein cum ramens, and Peter Paul & Mary are singing “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” at this moment while I sip pineapple juice on Jose Cuervo, so damn! Life is still a gift.

MOST OF OUR days these past few weeks were mostly spent on doing errands (+ raising last-ditch money) for the forthcoming Asheville visit/performance of Haiti’s N a Sonje on April 14 (UNCA/Highsmith Union). As usual, Bonfires/Indie friends made sure that they contribute a big chunk of their beautiful hearts and a piece out of the bank-account to this sweet lunacy – Charlie Thomas, Bob Brown, Susan Sertain (Costume Shoppe), Karen Pierre (Cold River Gallery), Gerry Mahon (Mellow Mushroom), Monika (of Jubilee), Kevin Innes, Jim of True Blue, plus commitments/pledges from Greg Lucas (MAP), Tim Pluta (Veterans for Peace), Deirdre Wiggins (UNCA’s Cultural Diversity Dept), Cicada Brokaw (Peace Coalition), and a number of friends from out of town/state.
Never to forget those who donated creative energy, equipment, efforts – Matt Mulder for the awesome poster, John Staversky for the sound/PA provision, Monika for food and other intangibles/tangibles, Jackie Bowman/Nina Collins for poster dissemination...
The good GOOD news in the last two days (in re this particular project) is the confirmation of the co-sponsorship of UNCA’s Student Government Association (SGA) of the event. This means that apart from having instant “resident” promotions and publicity and volunteer staff on event day, our rental is waived. A cool high five to Marta The Nicer for the indefatigable spirit, and to the young man at UNCA’s Reservations Dept (name is Will).
Meantime, Wally Bowen (MAIN/WPVM head honcho) helps us find a film crew to document the event. Kevin Innes provides the film projector. Megan Hislop anchors/emcees the event, I will give a welcoming address. All the other production needs are procured by our current house (big mirror, cassette recorder, other props) but we may need some more (big pillows, white screen etc)... There are still last-minute chores, eg radio coverage/interview assurance (I should link up with Virato of Revolution Radio and WPVM by Monday).
At this moment, The Blue Sky God/dess smiles at me via a cool moonlight. Things will be great.
The “Bonfires for Peace” at Pritchard Park the following day (April 15) is pretty much taken cared of by Chris Johnson and the Touch Samadhi family. One of the reasons why we are booking the DJs on this weekend – our heads/bodies will be occupied by the N a Sonje project to worry a lot about the physical/technical preparation for the April 15 park event. Besides, the trance DJs do gather a lot of people at the park, a fitting start of the third year of the Bonfires for Peace outdoor events in Asheville.
Mellow Mushroom and/or Burgermeister provide/s food to the performers and staff; pastry and bread to kids from West End Bakery.

AS A THANK-YOU gesture to UNCA’s Highsmith Union (for the N a Sonje event), we will have a special FREE intimate singer-songwriter gig/poetry reading at the same venue on May 5—as a warm sendoff to the students’ summer vacation. Featured acts are John Staversky & Jenny Arch and Vanessa Boyd, plus poets Pasckie Pascua and Megan Hislop.
Meanwhile, UNCA student Hannah Seng designs/executes posters/flyers to upcoming Bonfires events this spring and summer. Check out the May 6 Bonfires for Peace poster... (NOTE: Hannah, after meeting her for the first time in person, isn’t Chinese as I previously suspected. “Seng” is German, she told me.)

BEFORE the May 5 show at UNCA/Highsmith – don’t forget, me and Walter Dinteman (of the Tues Writers Group), Matt Mulder and Megan Hislop will be reading poems at Malaprop’s on April 19, as part of the Poetry Month. On May 4, we welcome Brooklyn NY visitors Adrienne Nightingale and Malcolm Rollick via a gig at the New French Bar on Biltmore Ave – with Dashvara.
That weekend (May 4, 5, 6, 7) will also be a big Bonfires week. Apart from Adrienne and Malcolm, we will also welcome Marco Accattattis and the NJ-based funk/R&B band, BlueNumberNine, to Bonfires events. Joining them at the park are Vanessa Boyd & The Yes Men and Laura Blackley & Lovehandles. Awesome day in downtown Asheville! Don’t forget, that’s also Bob Dylan/Merle Haggard concert night at The Orange Peel. Parking will be a major issue... (then walk.)
We will also host BlueNumberNine in our Dunwell Avenue Abode. We might have a house-party/concert the following day, Sunday, featuring the band (three women, three men). We may have a garage sale, family barbecue, and neighborhood fun. Mark that in your calendars, and come out!

AS I PREVIOUSLY mentioned, 61 Dunwell Avenue is looking good. By late April, we will be starting the Fridays and/or Saturdays Film Nights—featuring rock documentaries, Hollywood classics, amateur shorts, and (like Martin Smith/Blotter) “silly movies.” The basement is pretty accessible and comfy. Kevin The K will provide the film projector. Some of our advertisers take care of food and drinks.
This activity will be punctuated by weekly/weekend garage sales. Please bring your old valuable-throwables/shareables, donate or sell them for profit for yourself. If you have some stuff that you may want to donate, let us know, we will pick them up. Patrons could rummage through the stuff for sale—then read books at the basement or watch a movie.
I am actually thinking of making this event as the launch date for “Blue Sky Asheville.” But I am not sure yet... Meantime, on May 11, we will screen for donations basis, the documentary “Imelda” about my kababayan who loves shoes. We might screen this in two other venues.
We still have some ongoing projects somewhere, but I am getting tired (yes, I do) so I may have to take a nap now or finish watching “The Constant Gardener.”

WHAT ELSE? Oh, okay—new Wander contributor from nowhere. Michael H Brownstein from Chicago (short fiction and couple of poems). So Wander is actually wandering beyond Asheville. Snail contributions just arrive...
My apologies to those who are awaiting their copies of Wander/Indie (esp. Gaither Stewart in Rome). It has been very crazy here but it’s not anymore. Mails will be sent out tomorrow and Monday.
So that’s it, for now... I think, I’ll go outside and watch the sky. Then start/continue doing the layouts for Wander #4 and Blue Sky #1.
Gracias et amore!
--Pasckie

Quick, Short Update

2006-04-03T13:46:00.000-07:00

The only unchangeable/unchanging things in our life are our projects. Again, an update of the April and May Bonfires events--

[1] Three Innocents & A Spirit, featuring N a Sonje from Haiti
April 14, Fri, 8pm. Highsmith Union Hall, UNC at Asheville
$2 donation

[2] Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park (Year 3, Event 1)
April 15, Sat, 3-10pm. Downtown Asheville
Featuring Touch Samadhi Family, with Shapestatic, Kri, Oso, Medisin and Blue Spectral Monkey

[3] The Traveling Bonfires at Malaprop's Cafe & Bookshop.
April 19, Wed, 6:30-8:30pm. Featuring poets Walter Dinteman, Megan Hislop (unconfirmed), Matthew Mulder, and Pasckie Pascua
Haywood St., downtown Asheville

[4] The Traveling Bonfires presents Dashvara and guests, Adrienne Nightingale & Malcolm Rollick (from Brooklyn NY)
May 4, Thurs, 9pm to 2am.
New French Bar, Biltmore Ave., downtown Asheville

[5] The Traveling Bonfires at UNC Asheville (special show)
May 5, Fri, 7pm to 9pm. Highsmith Union Hall
Featuring Vanessa Boyd, Megan Hislop, John Staversky & Jenny Arch, and guest Sally Spring (unconfirmed)

[6] Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park (Event 2)
May 6, Sat, 3-10pm. Downtown Asheville
Featuring Laura Blackley & Lovehandles, Vanessa Boyd & The Yes Men, and guests Adrienne Nightingale & Malcolm Rollick and BlueNumberNine (from NJ, unconfirmed)

[7] A Bonfires Filmshow, featuring "Imelda, The Documentary"
May 11, Thurs, 6pm.Lord Auditorium/Pack Library
Downtown Asheville
$2 donation

LOVED BY THE BUFFALO PUBLICATIONS.
[ ]Deadlines for The Indie and Wander remain. Blue Sky Asheville comes out third week of April.
(The Indie is due out Tues, April 4; Wander, April 15.)

03.26.06--61 Dunwell Av and “Looking Forward"

2006-04-03T13:30:00.000-07:00

HERE WE GO... Now the Updates.

[ ] LOVED BY THE BUFFALO PUBLICATIONS.
The first of issue of “Blue Sky Asheville” comes out third week of April. It’s not only because I wasn’t able to work on my desk in the past two weeks—due to obvious reasons—but also because I had to prioritize press/deskwork in relation to the current/existing printing schedules of the two other magazines (The Indie and Wander). The Indie comes out first week of the month, Wander the second week, and Blue Sky the third week—which means, printing schedules of the first two magazines should come out on sked, as expected this April. (Deadlines remain.)
To those awaiting the supposed coming-out of Blue Sky last week, my apologies… You can revise or update your articles/stories to fit the 1st half of April-1st half of May timeframe. Send in the modified articles by April 8, please. Since The Epicurean (food and art) is more of the grizzly bear’s brainchild—and I still don’t have the technical know-how and extra financial capability to do a color magazine with 5,000 printrun—we aren’t doing that “food/art” concept, for the time being. We have, however, the right/correct photoshop/quark/indesign/PDF programs in our Mac computer… Anybody who might wanna use that iMac desktop, feel free to visit us. I still basically use the PCs for The Indie, Wander and Blue Sky.
Gaither Stewart (The Indie’s Rome/European senior writer) suggests that we do a twice-a-month Indie, instead of pushing for my previous 7-magazine “Loved by the Buffalo” blueprint. A more frequent Indie opens up a more prestigious community publication and, perhaps, more ad/marketing possibilities but my main problem is additional consistent, reliable, competent writers. Gaither referred two writers—I think, one is from Australia, the other is based in France (pls correct me if I’m wrong, Gaither). As ever, my “madness blueprint” calls for expansion of free community (spread “global”) projects than business/profit-oriented/but lesser (in number) programs… which means, we still don’t have the capability to pay writers. (Don’t be worried though—profit is in my head, we will get there…)
I also plan to dissociate the rock/music/arts articles out of The Indie and do a separate magazine for that sole purpose—to pave way for a twice-a-month Indie. This will make The Indie more focused to what Mike Hopping, Gaither Stewart, and Matt Mulder (our three longtime writers) usually write—articles that could spread out to other cities beyond Asheville and countries beyond America.
The arts/music magazine shall be called “Misty Mountain Hop,” or something like that. Yes, that’s a Led Zep song. I’m still thinking of a food magazine that links up cultures but I am still brainstorming how am I supposed to deal with the color pages. I don’t know… So do you have any ideas?
Steve Shanafelt of Mountain Xpress, who’s starting an arts column, asked/emailed me about Loved by the Buffalo’s publishing plans, aside from the magazines. Our current book project is Gaither’s novella “Russia is Far Away” but because of these current, pestering distractions, I haven’t really fully concentrated on this one. (I am sorry, Gaither.) This project could be pre-sold, advanced orders and stuff. Since I plan to go to New York City by early summer, I will also check on other printing options, marketing etc etc.
I also plan to publish or copublish my friend, NY-based Maria Lapachet’s book (yes, Maria, I’d like to discuss that with you when I get there)—something about lesbian and gay liberalism or something, or an erotica book of fiction. I am also interested in publishing a poetry book by an Asheville-based woman-poet, plus a photography book from a wide array of multicultural photojournalist friends that I worked with in the past… (Of course, apart from my own books. First things first. We’ll get Gaither ‘s book out soon.

[ ] BONFIRES FOR PEACE AT PRITCHARD PARK.
There is no change to this program. This remains as The Bonfires’ annual centerpiece project. The kickoff on April 15 features the Touch Samadhi family of trance goa DJs. (Thanks Chris Johnson for the poster, and Aaron/Oso for distributing/posting them all over town.) The other dates (May 6, June 10, July 1, Aug 5, Sept 2) are all reserved with the Parks&Recreation Department. Please check our Events blogs for details, in re performers.
Vanessa Boyd and her new band The Yes Men join the May 6 event; Raleigh-based Sally Spring and her band join the June 10 concert. A Filipino world music artist, Grace Nono, who will be on US Tour this summer might join the August event… plus a number of acts that I’ll sure meet and book in Baltimore/DC/NYC when I resume the Vagrant Wind tour by late May. Ms Nono did the music score for the Sundance-winning documentary, “Imelda.” I might produce/help-produce Grace’s east coast tour this summer… which may also converge in Long Island/NY in August with a joint Bonfires fundraise concert that I’m working out with Maria. This series also features poetry readings and art exhibitions – which may also tie up with, most probably, another project collaboration with Swati Khurana.
NYU-based Swati—who is a videographer, spoken word artist, and print artist—is currently in town. She’ll be performing with Glenis Redmond at Malaprop’s tomorrow (Monday, the 27th) night. I will be meeting up with her hours before her show—to talk/discuss about a hook-up project. Offhand, I’m looking at a multicultural women series of Bonfires summertime shows – Filipino Grace Nono, Indian Swati Khurana, and Spanish Maria Lapachet. I’d like to invite Glenis Redmond (Afro-American) and a white American poet-singer songwriter but I haven’t mentioned that plan to them yet, until this posting.

[ ] OTHER TRAVELING BONFIRES PROGRAMS/GIGS.
(1) The April 14 show by N a Sonje of Haiti at UNCA’s Highsmith Hall is looking good. We have common friends (Jackie, Monika, Shannon, Susanne etc) who already committed to accommodation, transportation, and other volunteer work. A group that is affiliated with Jubilee also pledged to do a potluck/fundraise for the visitors on either April 13 or 15. The GOOD news – The Bonfires’ rental fee at Highsmith might be waived after our meeting three days ago with Deirdre (last name I forgot), head of UNCA’s Multicultural Programs Department. She expressed appreciation/admiration for our initiative to bring other cultures to Asheville, and that, these should be supported. Thanks as well, to those who emailed me nice, warm words in re this particular project. (There will definitely be a dinner-get together with our Haitian friends—probably in Monika’s cabin retreat but I’ll announce the final plans later. You are all welcome.)
(2) College band and perennial Bonfires performer, Dashvara and visitors Adrienne Nightingale and Malcolm Rollick (from Brooklyn NY) play for The Bonfires at New French Bar, downtown Asheville on May 4, Thursday. John Staversky provides the sound; Vanessa Boyd, poet Megan Hislop, John Staversky and Jenny Arch, plus TBA acts play for a special campus Traveling Bonfires gig at UNCA’s Highsmith Hall on May 5. (Adrienne and Malcolm might join them.)
We are hosting Adrienne and Malcolm (it’s a girl’s name, OK?) on a probably “bonfires” dinner/get together in our new house on May 3—please do join us, potluck but I am also cooking…
(3) We will have a special benefit/donations-only screening of the documentary, “Imelda,” at Pack Library’s Lord Auditorium, UNCA’s Alumni Hall and/or BeBe Theater from April 29 to first week of May; along with possibly a short feature from an Asheville-based filmmaker and another one from NYC (maybe Swati’s and Irish friend Siobhan Clarke).
(4) Ongoing talks. <>”Loud and Peaceful” goth/metal acts convergence at Joli Rouge (current sign-ups are Avow from Boone and Chop Top from Salisbury). <>NJ’s BlueNumberNine at either Magnolia’s or Vincenzo’s on May 6.
(5) We will do a Fridays “Classics Around The World” Filmshows in our new place – at the basement – as soon as I get the space ready.

[ ] VAGRANT WIND ROAD JOURNEY.
I have, in a way, mentioned about the resumption of this road project. Friends such as Shodekeh (Baltimore) and my Pinoy homeys in NY and MD have emailed me about updates. The “tour” will obviously happen in between the Bonfires events at Pritchard Park, and also meant to invite performers/acts from other cities/countries to “Bonfires for Peace.” I have many business/personal/organizational reasons why I should hit the road—leading to NYC—this summer, including small bookstores deals (distribution, agency pitches) with Loved by the Buffalo Publications, acquisition of films for NC exhibitions, supervision of fundraise concert showcases, facilitation of Asia/Philippines-made crafts and products (as part of help-profit remedies), etc etc.
This means that there will (also) be road gigs in Chapel Hill (with Martin Smith’s The Blotter), The Guerrilla Poetry Insurgency/Laurie Blair/Shahid Buttar in VA and DC, and the Baltimore (Hampden, Fells Point) friends. There are a number of acts who will/might be joining the tour with me (eg New Yorker Natalie Gelman, Boston-based Gail Maxwell, Queens’ The Dirt Road Squirrels), but all these will be posted later…

[ ] URTV SHOW.
The “Bonfires of the Independents”/URTV show is, apparently, on hold. This is the particular project that is directly hit by the cutting of ties with Courtyard/Twin Rivers—since the grizzly bear owns the editing machine. I had all the footages saved though. I will have a better grasp of the project in a few days or weeks. I am currently looking for a secondhand handheld, and a friend who just moved from LA, might fill in with the editing chores.

Meantime, that’s what it is, for now… Tuesday writers group’s Robert Kelley has an invite-only potluck/soiree in his house on April 1… We might do a garage sale here in our new shelter when it gets warmer, to sort of bless our new abode… New contributors to Blue Sky—Fred Hansen, Aile Shebar, Ashley of the Christian band Inner Voice, and Molly McMillan—all from Asheville… Thanks David Hollie for the nice words about Wander and the $21 donation (we met him at the Peace Rally at Pack Square last March 19)…
Thanks Rena Wright, Clay Jensen, Linda Brown, Clare Hanrahan for the warm words and encouragements… Thanks Dale and Loretta Hoffman for always being there when we need your heart and hands… Thanks John S for the commitment to provide free sound to our acoustic/semi-unplugged shows this spring and summer… Karen Helman for the ACT (Asheville Community Theater) interview with Jenny Bunn… Thanks Heather Duncan, Nina Collins, Kapila Ushana for still being around… Thanks to my family.
Now, I have to wash the dishes, fix me some eggplant omelet and chicken adobo, put more logs on the fireplace, and sit back and watch Villanova vs Florida.

Gracias et emore!
--Pasckie
West Asheville

UPDATE (03.14.06)--More PC headaches, Swati Khurana, Imelda

2006-03-14T00:53:00.000-08:00

EVERYBODY TALKS about funk and blues a lot that the only "joyful" gig left is -- when you chill out over bourbon or vodka and puke laughing. And then when you wake up in the morning, you try to focus on abstract things that'll probably make you escape, really escape from something awry that keeps on nagging you (although you cant seem to pinpoint that "disease"). You'd imagine sauntering by the beach just like what that Corona ad suggests... if only, if only you could actually live far from your laptop and inbox for at least one whole week. It's really sad, it's synthetic. I miss the sea, the endless rain, and the open/wet market.
I miss those days--when back rents and ragged shoes dont matter. When all that matters is a Wednesday night hangin' out with my rowdy friends over vinegar-soaked deer meat and Cerveza, Sunday afternoons with my brothers sweating it out, backyard basketball games, goofing around, and Monday mornings at work is like a new day.
So what do we do these days?
How could we ever hope to be on that "Corona beach" when what you hear/watch/read are plane crashes--in Santa Monica Beach, in New Jersey. So you go to Blockbuster to "escape" via Hollywood pills. I just watched two "plane" movies -- "Red Eye" and "Flightplan," two movies that simply slap you in the face with the purpose of numbing your sense of logic (or common sense) and just enjoy. (How could a skinny, frail young lady overcome a professional assassin/terrorist? How come an entire crew of a posh airline missed out on one passenger? Hollywood is making us believe that it's that easy to let "security" slip and still so easy to overcome terrorists?) Ah! I enjoyed "40 Year Old Virgin" better (I instantly fell in love with Catherine Keener, forget that she has no hips at all).
So what can we do? But stare at the boob tube, try out the DVD player, read internet news, grab a New York Times and USA Today. Good news is always the bad news--Gaither had "good material" about student unrest in Paris. Weird, that instantly made me miss my militant student days in Manila.
Meantime, let me rant about my messed zip drive. As of this writing, no sure remedy yet about my zip drive problem. It costs around $113. (It's good that I already got Wander #3 done before this latest comp problem came.)
A zip drive is an external drive that is hooked up by USB cord to (usually) a PC computer. It holds huge memory--particularly pagemaker (magazine) files that I use for The Indie and Wander etc. Problem is, with the crazy surge of new techno baubles these days which Mac/Apple leads the way, not many people use zip drives these days.
With Mac, I can save files on CD disc but I will have to convert my pagemaker file to a Mac-readable version. I have Macs but I will have to relearn all these re-programs. I essentially work on PCs. Technology didnt actually speed up work -- it is very convenient to big business but not to ordinary people. All these new programs make us all confused, work more complicated, and business unfairly very competitive (but leaned towards those who can afford the hi-tech gizmo).
Computer gizmos--from palm pilots to zip drives to inkjet printers to laptops--is like they are actually programmed to conk out after a certain span of time. At which time, these computer companies have already sent out 15 new albeit more expensive programs and baubles to sell us. I was reading Kurt Vonnegut's 1997 book, "Timequake" to sort of find surreal solace from this insane hi-techno consumerism.
I actually need a bit of breathing space up in the wilderness soon. I start to burn out a bit--not because of physical workload--but because of frustrations from other things. I might go up Grok Mountain soon on invite from Jim Cox, or chill a bit in Chapel Hill... Can I bring my laptop? (Uhh, isnt it crazy? We cant leave our techno partners like we're married to them?)
Now, the Updates...

[ ] The Twin Rivers film festival happens on these following dates/venues--(1) April 29, Courtyard, (2) May 4, Fine Arts Theater, (3) May 5, UNCA Alumni Hall. The concert event that is set on April 29 at the Courtyard is not yet final FINAL. I mean, the concert event will definitely happen but the Traveling Bonfires may not participate, pending mutually-agreed decisions on some organizational/business matters. The Bonfires helped hook up both Fine Arts and UNCA filmshows but we may not participate in the event...

[ ] Also, the Traveling Bonfires isnt involved with the Thursday Open Mic at the Courtyard anymore. We figure, Jarrett Leone handles it pretty well... We are trying to minimize "collaborative/volunteer" work, and maximize "internal/organizational" work, that is why. Me and Marta The Nicer feels that we should concentrate more on our own spring and summer events--esp. the N a Sonje/Haiti show (UNCA, April 14) and the "Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park" events. And yes, we ought to find ads to the publications, asap--we havent had a paid ad in three months time now. We however are still involved with the Wed Twin Rivers judging and Friday "Classics from Around the World" Filmshows. (We also host Robert Kelley's Tuesday writers workshop, with the Courtyard Gallery...)

[ ] Walter Dinteman and Matthew Mulder join me in a poetry reading gig at Malaprops on April 19, 6:30 to 8:30pm. We are still inviting other poets to come join us...

[ ] The Traveling Bonfires and Courtyard Gallery host Swati Khurana (videographer, spoken word artists, print artist) of New York Univ on April 25, Saturday. She will show her videos and short films at the Courtyard on that night. She will also have a poetry reading gig at Malaprop's on April 27, Monday, on Glenis Redmond's booking initiative. For more info about her, go to http://bonfiresideprojects.blogspot.com/

[ ] I may have a special "donations-only" screening of "Imelda, The Documentary" at Lord Auditorium of downtown's Pack Library late this month or early April. "Imelda" is also scheduled at the Courtyard on March 31, as part of the Friday Classics event.

[ ] We welcome good friend Katie Kasben to table in all of the Traveling Bonfires' events this spring and summer, for free--as a mutual gesture of solidarity and support. She has been helping us out in the last few years. She is promoting her project, "48 Hour Film Project."

[ ] We might have a "Loud & Peaceful" rock concert at Joli Rouge on May 6. And another Third World Asheville/all-women's concert in April.

That's it, for now. I am about to watch "The Constant Gardener." I read John LeCarre's book... Oh by the way, we need book reviewers. The books that I have at this junctire are--local novelist Lewis W. Green's novels and books of fiction, and one by Victor M. Depta (c/o agency). I also would like to let agents and friends of bluesman Cyril Lance and singer-songwriter Madelyn Lavender that my review of their CDs are coming this next (April) issue of The Indie.

Thanks to Glenis Redmond for committing to donate money to the N a Sonje/Haiti project, Robert Kelley and Katie Kasben for helping me out with my zip drive problem, AKA Johnny R of Kinko's for being always so accommodating to our aftermidnight visits, to Karen Helman for agreeing to do the interview/story of Asheville Community Theater, to Laura Blackley for making us feel that she's a part of the Bonfires community, to Dashvara and Hippie Shitzu for being always there when we need them, to Jarrett Leone for being consistently nice and reliable, to Ty Hallock for the website work, to Chris Johnson for the Touch Samadhi blessings and the Bonfires April 15 poster--to Matt Mulder, Mike Hopping, Gaither Stewart, Jim Cox, Walter Dinteman, Laura Hope Gill, Debbie Metcalf, Onca O'Leary, Lady Passion/Diuvei (Dixie Deerman, Steve Rasmussen), Kelly Lee Phipps, Al Fazio, Carlos Steward--for the deadline adherence and respect. And, to Marta The Nicer for my chocolate muffins supply, and the other half of the energy...

Gracias to the Blue Sky God/dess!
--Pasckie

MORE UPDATES (03.08.06)--Wed Film Judging, Twin Rivers Concert, Peace Rally

2006-03-08T01:26:00.000-08:00

SPRING WHISPERS, and Bonfires start to burn--slowly but surely. Updates in regards upcoming activities, programs and projects come flowing...
Meantime, tonight--each and everyone, including students, are invited to help us judge entries to the 12th TWIN RIVERS MEDIA & FILM FESTIVAL. Short features, animation, MTVs, and documentaries come from all over the US and other countries, including Belgium, Mexico, and Ireland. This is our way of enjoining the participation and involvement of the community in judging a supposedly reserved for thick-browed film critics and intellectuals film festival. Votes and comments of those who attend and participate will be annotated and accounted in the final judging. For more info, call Carlos Steward at 273 3332 or go to www.twinriversmediafestival.com
Here's the latest Updates--

[ ] The lineup (subject to final confirmation) for the concert/event to signal the opening of the Twin Rivers Filmfest on April 29, Saturday, are: Pure Energy, Hank Jones, Hippie Shitzu, Dashvara, and The Laura Blackley Band. Sound equipment and management/supervision c/o Buddha John. Music shall start rockin' as early as 2pm.

Apart from screenings at The Courtyard, Twin Rivers filmshows will also be held at the Fine Arts Theater, Lord Auditorium of downtown's Pack Library, and UNCA's Alumni Hall (May 5). Updates and full schedule of screenings will be announced and published as this week (or weeks) of community film extravaganza nears. Filmshows happens from the last week of April to first week of May--on selected days/evenings.

[ ] The Traveling Bonfires & Loved by the Buffalo (The Indie, Wander etc) will be tabling at the Peace Rally (organized by WNC Peace Coalition) on March 19, Sunday. We will begin set up by 1pm. Those interested to join me and Marta The Nicer Osbourne hand out flyers, Indie/Wander/Blue Sky copies, flyers/postcards etc as very much welcome.

[ ] The full lineup of Trance DJs/Touch Samadhi performers that are scheduled to play (or spin records) for the kickoff event of the "Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park" on April 15 are: Shapestatic, Kri, Oso, Medisin, and Blue Spectral Monkey. Tabling is welcome and enjoined on donation-basis (minimum of $20).

[ ] Pure Energy, Jarrett Leone's didj group, will open for Haiti's N a Sonje's performance at UNCA's Highsmith Hall on April 14. Buddha John is also doing the sound. So thanks a lot to The Buddha.

[ ] Early submissions to The Indie April: Mike Hopping's book review of "A Question Of Torture: CIA Interrogation, From The Cold War To The War On Terror" by Alfred W. McCoy; Debbie Metcalf's "A Voice for Women" column; and Cruella DeVille's "advice column" to the turtured soul; Arthur Winfield Knight's (Yerington NV) short profile of the late comedian Stan Laurel.

Wander's 3rd issue for Winter 2006 (or March) is lookin' good. New names: Joan Winslow of Boston ("Pi of Pie," serialized novel); Orlando Sentmanat Ofarrill of Puerto Rico (poem); Reinaldo Pol of Puerto Rico (short prose poetry); with local poets Laura Hope Gill, Dave Rowe, Kapila Ushana, and John Winfield of Waynesville; Anna Lynn C Sibal of Manila, Philippines ("Waiting for the Rain," fiction); and more fiction/essay/poetry etc from Walter Dinteman, Matthew Mulder, Cyn Los (Mexico), and Jorge Potter (Puerto Rico).

AS USUAL, we have lots of errands to do on this cold but cool Wednesday. See you tonight!
--Pasckie

UPDATE (03.06.06)--Hop in Jump out the Train, Haiti at UNCA, Free Fest Tix

2006-03-06T17:32:00.000-08:00

SPRING’S SWEET SMELL STARTS to seep through summertime’s last spell of cold. Aquarian Moon Rising’s bad vibes should have dwindled as mid-March approaches. It’s all very positive—time to weed out derelict grass and plant new seeds and nurture rosebuds…
As a fresh season of hope nears, I’d also like to refresh and renew commitments and principles that have long guided and moved these “rock journeys and sublime madnesses” – oftentimes amidst stormy, scraggly roads and unwavering, physical barriers. The Traveling Bonfires & The Indie—plus new brainstorms under “Loved by the Buffalo Publications”—stick to the faith, no matter how I come out oblique, enigmatic and “weird” to most.
“Marta, you have a new bestfriend.” That’s what I tell Marta The Nicer each time we’ve, wittingly and unwittingly, courted new detractors or critics or “enemies.” I am not really bothered by the number of people who slip out or give up or curse me as we tread this road less traveled; the number of new people and fresh possibilities upstage the bad breaks, as ever. This is not a one-time thing, this is a continuum—we can only improve and better ourselves than sulk in a corner for a miscue or mishap.
No matter how things flow and emanate or slide in and out – the Traveling Bonfires Family, from Manila to New York City to Asheville, is COMMUNITY. Under a community aura, everybody helps everybody – individual opportunism and subtle manipulation don’t have any room. There is no rock star or prima donna superstar within this madness—no special treatment or indispensable personalities. I will continue to cut and frustrate people who think that they can easily gain a free ride and disrespect what this sweet lunacy is all about.

THE BONFIRES IS COMMUNITY. Each soul contribute his/her own little, humble way – from setting up chairs on an event, load in/load out, rendering free ride to West Asheville, beating Indie deadlines for a well-research/written article to making efforts at networking people to the shows (than criticizing how we promote them), handing and posting flyers and posters in visible areas, sharing food at an event, hanging out to laugh and have fun…
I don’t take this vocation lightly – we drive to Kinko’s at past midnight to get better/cheaper work condition, we deliver papers till 11pm, we diligently beat deadlines – rain or snow. My work ethic is still translated via, “If you don’t have anything to do, don’t do it here.”
I thank Mark Anderson, Chris Malz, Mikey Burton and Hippie Shitzu for always being there when we need them, whether we book them or not; Rena Wright for continually, untirelessly, commitedly brings people to our events like she also “owns” this beautiful preoccupation; Matt Mulder, Gaither Stewart, and Mike Hopping for being the most “longtime” contributors to The Bonfires/The Indie (apart from their respect for the word, deadline); Dale Hoffman for the friendly gestures and unwavering support even in the midst of his busy work and family life; to Katie Kasben for consistently being in touch (not counting material/physical help, ie handheld cam and accommodations to visitors)… Renrick Pascual, Kate O’Haley and Greer Kupka in New Jersey and New York City; Daniel Stuelpnagel, Karla Mancero, Tim/Joyce Wheeler, Marco Galsim, and Gino Inocentes in Baltimore; Shahid Buttar, Laurie Blair in Washington DC; new friends/project collaborators like Carlos Steward; those who “silently” support us – Emoke B’Racz, Linda Knopp, and the Malaprops family, Ann Dunn of Fletcher Dance School and Asheville Ballet, Rosetta Rzany of Rosetta’s Kitchen, Mellow Mushroom management, legal consultant Bruce Elmore, peace activists Jim Brown, Charlie Thomas, Tim Pluta, Clare Hanrahan, and Cicada Brokaw, Stephanie Morgan, Jenny Greer, Molly Kummerle, NOW Asheville, Greg Lucas and Media Arts Project; and the many others in other states and countries—who have stayed with us for more than three or four years, at least.
This year is the 3rd year of the “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park;” we are bringing the first “foreign” act (N a Sonje from Haiti) to Asheville via a first event at UNCA on April 14; we are showing (with Twin Rivers) a first film project at Fine Arts Theater on the first week of May… “Loved by the Buffalo Publications” gives birth to three more magazines.
Meantime, the best acceptance blurb in last night’s Oscar came from best picture (“Crash”) director Paul Haggis, who delivered inspirational words to peace-loving souls out there. This year’s Academy Awards should be one of the best for its sheer courage, resiliency and sensitivity, and upfront politics – from the gender grit of “Brokeback Mountain” and “Transamerica” to character depth of “Capote” and “Walk The Line” to political commentary of “Syriana,” “The Constant Gardener” and “Good Night, and Good Luck” to anti-racism snide of “Crash” to historical sensitivity of “Memoirs of a Geisha” and “A New World” to the social potshots of “Hustle & Flow” to revenge vs terror darkness of “Munich.”

So here’s the Update.

[ ] We are back at Malaprop’s on April 19, Wednesday. But it’s poetry. The bookstore/café isn’t doing any amplified musical gigs anymore. Anybody interested to join me in this what I call Wander Readings, email me please.

[ ] List of community friends who extend help to Bonfires visitors from Haiti, Carla Bluntschli, Harry “Ari” Nicolas, and Djaloki Dessables AKA N a Sonje – Glenis Redmond (accommodation, food), Shannon Warwick (accommodation), Jackie Bowman (accommodation, transportation, food), and a phone call from Monica (transportation, accommodation, food). Repeat: N a Sonje will be performing at UNCA’s Highsmith Hall on April 14, Friday. Rental fee is $50 an hour, that’s relatively cheaper (because we aren’t charging cover fees). Other venues charge a minimum of $250 for three hours.

[ ] The “Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park” events for 2006 are listed in WNC Peace Coalition’s website. We might table at their March 19 peace rally—if we get it for free in exchange to Indie coverage.

[ ] We are getting free passes to Shakori Hills Grassroots Festival, set from April 20 to 23, at Silk Hope NC – in exchange for Loved by the Buffalo ad placements. The festival features, among others, The Avett Brothers, Donna The Buffalo, Keith Secola & Wild Band of Indians, Corey Harris.

[ ] Bonfires visitors Adrienne Nightingale and Malcolm Rollick are booked at The Root Bar on May 3, possibly at The New French Bar on May 4, and “Bonfires for Peace” at Pritch Park on May 6. We have also booked May 6 for a special after-“Bonfires for Peace” event at Joli Rouge, as a friendly gesture to our visitors (Adrienne and Malcolm, and possibly Blue Number Nine from New Jersey).

[ ] Update of contributors to the first issue of Blue Sky Asheville (due, March 21): Dixie (“Lady Passion”) Deerman, Candice Morgan (from Wales), Onca (“Baraka Mundi”) O’Leary, Kelly Lee Phipps. Awaiting submissions: Dale Allen Hoffman, Matthew Mulder, Accem Scott.

[ ] The opening date of the Twin Rivers Media & Film Festival on April 29 features bands and acts performing at The Courtyard from 1pm to 10pm. We are extending invites. The Wednesday (7pm) “special Twin Rivers” screenings are still open to interested film enthusiasts who might want to help us judge the entries.

[ ] Mellow Mushroom donates $100 worth of gift certificates – each month – in exchange for ads to The Epicurean. The Indie already gets $100 every-other-month, apart from a one-year advertisement contract that expires this summer.

[ ] Ty Hallock of Top Floor Studios (compound neighbor) is doing the long-awaited Indie/Bonfires website. Ty is also a friend of Bonfires friends Katie Kasben and Jenny Greer. He is also working on business-related hook-ups with Carlos Steward.

Now, to answer some nagging queries and silence some suspicions, Mr Carlos Steward of Courtyard Gallery & Agency isn’t financing the Traveling Bonfires, Loved by the Buffalo, or myself or Marta. NOT AT ALL. Our relationship with him is pretty much parallel with other Indie/Bonfires collaborations – no contract, no money movements, no complications. It’s – again – all about COMMUNITY. The rent isn’t a freebie, the business operation isn’t funded, and we have equal numbers of computers in the shared middle-room office. The van isn’t a hand-out either—we are paying it on work-related/installment basis. Carlos, however, gives paying deskwork jobs to Marta that aren’t related to Indie/Bonfires or Courtyard.
In the past few weeks, there are some good-natured individuals who thought otherwise and bugged Carlos with pestering/non-business phone calls (“please open the gate”) and even a request to crash at the gallery. (If you want to crash, please let me know—don’t go to Carlos, that unwanted gesture is embarrassing). There were also instances when unwanted “visitors” strode straight to the apartment space, without even asking my permission. This is my and Marta’s shared private living quarters, not a community center – NOT a part of Courtyard Gallery or Mr Steward’s house—only those that I invite to come in, get in. All my writing/work implements are “scattered” all over my space, I don’t want anyone to be touching them, esp. when I am on deadline.
Moreover, I am also responsible with whatever might get lost in the gallery area… These areas aren’t extensions of the rainbow gathering, please.
Last but not the least, PLEASE DO OBSERVE DEADLINES. Most longtime Indie writers – ie Mike Hopping, Gaither Stewart, Matt Mulder – beat their deadlines like true professionals. When they couldn’t, they make it a point to email me what’s going on (eg Carlos Steward, Benjamin Bernstein, Lady Passion, Rena Wright etc). Recently, a “new” writer submitted her article a day before I submitted the final proofs to Iwanna, which was Feb 27 (deadline is the 17th, I repeat that many times each month). She didn’t give me any notice, any request for extension at all. She simply emailed her story with a one-word notice/blurb, “March.” When I turned it down and rejected her article, she responded by retrieving her booking presskits from us.
I don’t tolerate this brattiness and arrogance. I am still very upset with this show of utter disrespect. This is the time and situation when I don’t regret being branded “eccentric” or “difficult.” These words have become my virtues.

With that, SALUT!
--Pasckie