Tu 4-15 7:30 AM Tax Day!
On the pot taking a crap. Don't care if I'm late. By the time I got to writing here yesterday it was late, and I fell asleep without writing a word. There was nothing to write about anyway. So can I crank this bad boy out before it's time to go home?  Today, I definitely have to stop by LACAS to turn in my time card. I'll check my e-mail today. A woman in a lime green day-glo dress is talking about creating an army of multicultural proponents (I'm out of the crapper). Apparently the way to do this is to vilify white people. I agree with them in principal, but they continually go against everything they want by screaming Racism! Racism! Racism! and it seems they only perpetuate the problem. My friends and I drink and smoke and play and watch sports together and we make fun of each other, race included, and that is multicultural harmony. But I'm a white man, say the leaders of this institute and so am incapable of understanding. Here, they make no mention of non-violence. They use words like 'army' and 'fighting racism'. Whatever. Today is the fiftieth anniversary of Jackie Robinson's first Big League game. I don't even bring it up with this crowd, but Jackie's a huge reason I'm not a racist. I played baseball with kids of every hue and we worked toward the same goals and laughed and joked and didn't give a shit what race anyone was and we were embarrassed by our parents backwards attitudes. What else? Nice day. Butterflies flit past roses. When I'm done with this I'll do the crossword. Day-glo says we need to create a better human being to create a more harmonious Los Angeles. As soon as her generation is out of power and my generation is in, the Civil Rights Act will start to change things for real. Racism will die. We'll kill each other over color-blind income issues. Lot of semi-bigwigs wander through this thing. I need a pencil sharpener. Marta is explaining the next activity. My roll at night school is a mess. There's an attractive new woman in there who's about my age. I probably shouldn't go hitting on my adult ed students. Right? I can't think of her name right now. I wasn't a very good teacher last night. I felt a little distracted. The CRAP from this retreat stays with me. I've just reviewed my curriculum for racial inequality. Didn't find any. Woo-who! If I were at school, I'd be leaving now. I smoked a quarter j before I drove here this morning. Took Ventura slow and watchful; didn't sweat my tardiness. I just swiped the book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance off the shelf of the "Holy Spirit Library". We had tuna salad croissants for lunch. We ate outside. It's only Tuesday. One month and one day from today I begin my vacation. Priority number one will be to find a school to work at closer to home. I don't know if I'll be teaching night school in the summer yet or not. They're going to let us know next week. I've got to figure out about heading up to Idaho or not. Carlos is expecting me to go to Guatemala with him, but I don't think I'll be able to swing it. Will I be involved in a new romance by then? Can I get to page fifty in fuckin' Jim? We shall see. It's taking me forever to read Youth in Revolt, even though it's pretty breezy. What else? Big Deb commended me for having the discipline to write these three pages every day and noted that her son does the same and is a Gemini, too. I said I had to meet him. Big Deb is black and we whisper jokes to each other about how lame this retreat is.