REALLY? ? ? Anesthesizing our pets now?  Is this what it’s come to?  The Reno Gazette Journal is running a story titled “Drugs can help pets cope with quakes“.  Are these tremblers too much for the animals?  Or is it the anxiety of the impending Big One that they can’t handle.  Maybe they’re watching too much TV?  If that King of All Quakes hits here, I was kind of hoping that my chihuahua and my obese mutt would pull my family from the rubble.  Or at least have enough piss and vinegar in ‘em to keep the cat from slowly eating our legs.  

 

This RV has been in my backyard since last August, where it arrived from a field near Whiskey Springs, where it had previously rested, unloved, for 10 or 11 months.   Due to a methora of issues, it refused to operate as intended.  It was extrememely difficult to start, would die almost instantly, the brakes were seized, it had begun sinking into what was once my lawn, and the transmission was just not engaging.  So, rare starting, no running, no transmission, no pushing, no towing, no moving!  Until last night, when I refused to go to sleep yet one more night with this 3 ton bastard haunting me.  Patience gone.  I was determined to move it last night, even if I had to get out the sawzall.  And by the many blessings of BOB, it FINALLY moved!  IT MOVED!!! After weeks of concentrated effort, M O T I O N !

 
 
It isn’t where I want it yet, but it is mobile again!   

 It’d be so much cooler if it were Red Rock Salon. . . 

But, hey… we’ll play where they take us.  And until next year’s Atomiks-reunion hair salon tour, we’ll keep playing dive bars.  I’ve played a few sort-of acoustic shows recently, and they’ve been fun.  So much easier to set up for as well.   And that’ll be the case tonight, as Keith and I break it on down at the Red Rock, with songs to love and drink by.  And if you wanted to, you could even make out some lyrics tonight.  I’m just sayin’.  10 ish.   

I’m twittering because:

1.)  All the cool kids were doing it.  And there’s always more room on the bandwagon as it slows to a crawl.

2.)  Peer pressure. My friend Nico nudged me to start twittering.

3.)  I’m thrilled at the stalking prospects…

4.)  140 character blogging.  Delivered to and from my cell phone.

  5.)   Reno Passport has the right idea.

If you aren’t, or haven’t signed up for this, you aren’t in enough trouble yet.  http://twitter.com/georgepickard 

On April 10, Nepal finally held it’s twice-delayed national elections.  This was the first national level election in nearly a decade.  The elections were the latest phase in a U.N. peace accord between the monarchy and the maoist insurgency.  Beginning in the nineties, tourism had plummeted in Nepal, due in large part to the political instability that resulted in a civil war.  

The country has been through hell-in-a-handbasket in recent years.  In 2001, the Crown Prince shot and killed most of the royal family before turning the gun on himself.  Suspicion abounds though, and many refuse to accept the official version of this story.  The civil war, fully flaring in 1995, claimed 13,000.  No foreigners were ever injured as a result of the armed conflict.  This is somewhat expected, as virtually everyone in Nepal realizes the enormous economic benefit received from tourism.

When I visited Nepal in April of last year, the maoists had just agreed to lay down their arms and join the political process.  Turns out, it was the right move for them.  Early results show that their party will capture most of the parliamentary seats.  The next parliament will be charged with drafting a new constitution, which given the maoists historical intentions, will likely involve stripping the monarchy of any remaining power.

According to the reports I’ve read, the voting went amazingly well, with few reports of violence.  The U.N., along with Jimmy Carter, monitored the action, and came away with very pleasant things to say.  Not that it was a perfect affair.  Two people died on 4-10, one of which was shot.  But, for a country where most are living on less than a dollar a day, rather remarkable.  

There’s a bit of tension now, with those in power trying to grapple with how they’ll actually integrate their former enemies into a legitimate government.  The leaders of the reigning army are reluctant to allow the rebels to join their ranks, and are instead offering them positions guarding water towers and utilities, and operating tourist sites.  

Overall, I view these political developments as positive.  The civil war is over, and for the first time ever really, the people have chosen  their government.  May not be the government that we would have chosen, in fact, the U.S. government still classifies the Nepal maoists as a terrorist organization, but it’s what they want in Nepal.  And we should honor that much.  

The Nepali people that I have spoken (or written) to about the political situation are reasonably skeptical about the maoists, but very content that the debate is confined to the political arena.  

I’ve been keeping track of the events in Nepal, because I plan on visiting again this fall, and bringing along my family and friends.  This piece in the New York Times, is encouraging toward that end.  

To celebrate the forfeiture of a significant portion of our incomes for the benefit of Dear Leader’s freedomizing, I’m performing on Tuesday April 15 (Tax Day).  I’ll be playing an acoustic set, along with Nick Ramirez of Astronot and Phat Couch Fame, and Lew of Jub Jub and Bruka Theater fame.  Nick has promised to brew up a mean batch of chili.

  The Red Rock is located at 241 South Sierra St. in my hometown of  Reno, Nevada.      

 OK, so off the wagon and still on the trail (previous post) - what the hell does that mean?  My apologies for the incomplete post.  My intention with that heading was to indicate that though I may have abandoned any hope of becoming a teetotaller (and let me say, my chances of going reformed LDS are dwindling with age, sadly) I do plan on continuing to steer my consciousness.  I’ll let that one sit for sentence.
 Or a paragraph.
Perhaps it was a subject best left as a title. 

My ride left me off Saturday afternoon at Abby’s Hiway 40, where I played in wedding band for the marriage of Fred and Antoinette.  Punchclock provided the percussion, and my father George Pickard the eldest played Sax and Keys.  It was good playing with my dad again.  He’s recently retired, and hasn’t played out in a couple of months.  

The wedding took place entirely at Abby’s, with the owner Donnie Schwartz officiating the ceremony.  I drank half a beer while playing, would’ve drank the other half had it not gotten warm.  Tried to obtain a vodka redbull, but the bar was out of redbull, and trying to pimp some crap substitute called “Jimmy Hendrix Liquid Experience.  Yeeeech, it sucks.  

My co-worker, Gay, and her husband were throwing a house-warming party.  So, from the wedding I went to the party.  And Gay rocks, because she had Redbull and Ketel.  So I had two or three there.  Great party.  Happy times.  

From the party, I went back to Abby’s where some haphazard version of the Atomiks played the last Atomiks show ever.  More on that tomorrow.

Was there anything to be learned from my abstinence?  Seems about four days in that my sleep improved.  I started working on the house, projects that had been haunting me for awhile.  

But I picked a bad week to stop sniffing glue:  My daughter Sunday was in town on Spring Break, and I had to do a lot of additional dad-taxi duty.  Work was crazy with demanding meetings.  I’m refinancing my house.  My cat needs to be neutered.  I’ll stop.  There were easier weeks to put down the ducky.  

So, if I want to be stress-driven toward productivity, and sleep well at night, the wagon is a useful means to an end.  The end. 

Well it was a hell of a run, and I’ve almost made it.  This wagon moves a lot faster than I thought.  

On day 5, I woke to the gentle singing of birds outside, and a sublime light shining through my bedroom window.  It all started so well.  The middle was rough, because I just couldn’t let go of an obsession of mine.  And it shouldn’t have been an obsession.  I wed and fed (now that almost sounds right) my lawn, and it need to be wet.  I could’ve hosed it, but I just wanted to turn my sprinkler system back on for the Spring.  Problem, the valve, which is 3 feet underground and only accessible through a 6 inch pipe, is not turning.  It’s nearly impossible to see the valve, and use the valve-turning tool simultaneously.  I spent about an hour trying.  The kids were fighting, the dogs barking, and my mind spinning.  My heart pounded thick blood through my thicker brain.  Not that I wanted for an anti-coagulant, but in hindsight, that sure woulda helped the matter.

Dinner came, taco night, perfect setting for family bliss.  I barked at the children, barked at the wife unit.  The glared at me with angry, watery eyes.  Quarantined myself in the bedroom.  Returned to the communal areas 10 minutes later and made ammends.  Fell asleep after dinner, woke up to Kristin bringing me 3 orange flowers and peanut butter cups.  Reese’s.  Love. Love it when I get flowers. Goddamned sprinklers.  Fucking stubborn mind.  My stubbornness eating itself and turning to shit.  Stroke imminent.  Eminent imminentness.  She had m&ms.  We watched The Tudors.  Good night.  The world is well, and I’m getting used to it.