Mel Heth’s post a couple of days ago reminded me of a campfire many years back.

I was traveling solo on the North Coast, in the redwoods.  I’d stopped in Humboldt Redwoods State Park, staying in the campground there next to the Visitor Center.

I unloaded the Corolla, set up the tent, and went about making dinner.  After dinner, I went over to the campground entrance and picked up a bundle of firewood for a fire that night.

Now that all is said and done (well, except the protracted legal battle, that is), can I just ask: is it wrong that I felt so little about the whole MJ thing?

Is it wrong that I didn’t feel the whole rush of feelings that everyone interviewed on TV felt?  That I didn’t feel fundamentally shaken by his passing?

That, while I’m sorry for his family’s loss (as I would be for anyone’s), his death didn’t have much impact on my life?  Had no desire to watch the funeral at Staples Center on TV, much less rush down there myself?

This year’s 4th of July elicited some discussion amongst my friends, mostly circulating around the following:

“Uh, got any plans?”

“Nope.  You?”

“Nah.  We should go somewhere.”

“Yeah.”

“But where the hell can we go that isn’t going to be insanely crowded?”

Keep in mind, this conversation happened, off and on, over several weeks.  I guess we all felt a bit indecisve on the subject.

Hopefully I’ll be out of town when this goes up (I’m writing it on Wednesday, just to cover my bases).  Since I’ll be somewhere that will have no internet access, I figure I better set up my Happy 4th of July wishes in advance.

And, yes, I’m recycling a picture from last year, too:

So, Happy Holiday everyone!  Now go eat something bad for you and watch some fireworks. 

For the past 12 years or so, I’ve been using the MSR WhisperLite Internationale on my camping and backpacking trips.

It’s the first stove I ever bought, and it runs flawlessly.  Cold, hot, wind, whatever; it’s never failed to light.  Traveling solo, cooking up breakfast and dinner (and hot chocolate for dessert, natch), a single tank of fuel will last a week.

The only drawback to the stove is the playful derision I get from my fellow backpackers.

(Finally commented on everyone’s comments on the last two posts.  Sorry for the delay.)

One of the things I miss about living in San Francisco is the corner grocery store. Any way you look at it, it’s just stupid to have to get in your car to pick up a half gallon of milk or a bag of chips.

The Best Friend still lives near one up in San Francisco. Everyone there knows her, and when she & the boyfriend walk in, they’re greeted by name.

It’s a nice, friendly, neighborhood feeling.

I’m sure that this post will make everyone say that I’m entirely too self-analytical.  Or, at the very least, that I think too much.

There’s been a shift in my thinking of late.  Not so much in what I’m thinking about, but how I’m thinking about things.  It’s as though my thoughts on pretty much any subject seem to be splitting in two directions simultaneously.

Geez, I hope this isn’t a sign of becoming manic-depressive.  Of course, if it were, would I even know?  Hmmmmm…

Anyway, it’s a lot more subtle than that.

Things that suck at work:

It’s been a long day.  In fact, it’s been the longest day of the year.

Being the height of summer, and having no definitive plans for the day, I figured I’d go ahead and do the things I knew I’d like.

So, what makes for the gosh-darn-near-perfect summer day?

Today there was an office party.  Well, maybe a more appropriate term would be “bridal shower,” but because the entire staff was invited, I suppose it straddles the line between the two.

Anyway, last week I got the invite via e-mail.  The party would be held on our Friday lunch hour in the office, and everyone was asked to contribute $15 for food & a gift.