06-24-2016, 02:49 PM
So the SNWMF DOOMtale begins at the end, then goes back to the beginning, then ends in the middle.
On Sunday, a lovely warm day, dm made the blast away to scurry home for a father's day date with his daughter, who made lasagna (from frozen, but she managed to turn the oven on, which is a major feat) and tickets for Finding Dory (dm misses seeing movies with her as now she always goes with her teenage friends, not boring old dad). Dm slept in to 9 or so, got some nice breaky at JAH Med, and put his head back together from the night before. All of a sudden it was noon and dm realized he hadn't really shopped at all, hadn't really explored the massive booth-age of cool hippie crap, so he dashed through to see it all and ended up buying some new steal your face metal stickers for his ride. He packed quickly and was off at 1:30. It was hard to leave - one of the emts went diving that morning and brought back some fresh abalone which was being prepared by JM's wonderful cook. He did the same last year and it was incredibly delicious. dm doesn't get abs anymore - too damn expensive. It's been years since he had any, broken only by last years treat. But they wouldn't be ready until dinner so dm could only watch a little of the extensive prep, and go. The ride home usually takes about 3.5 hours. There was traffic from Cloverdale to Daly City. In Petaluma, dm was just stopped, stopped in a stand still, for what seems like eons. Talk about frustrating. Babylon welcomes dm back with a major buzz kill. It took 5.5 hours, making poor dm late for the movie (fortunately the next showing was available, and dm paid, even though it was dm's cub's treat - she doesn't work yet and doesn't have a lot of money). But that ride, oh man, dm was shaking with road rage. And in the end, dm never knew why all the traffic. There was some construction in petaluma but beyond that, there was no other interference.
Dm had traffic on the way in too. SNWMF was bookended with traffic. He left a little after noon, after his landlord's property manager had givne the A-ok for the annual fire alarm inspection, and figured on arriving around 4:20 as is tradition, but didn't quite make it until 5. This year, JM camping was moved from a beloved bone yard (nicknamed 'yaard' - issa jamaican t'ing) to under a corrugated-steel roof next to sheep stables. The space was flat asphalt, shared with security, with power and water, next to the showers. It was cramped and noisy, and the lights were suspicious because they were grow lights, but it rained and all were thankful. It didn't rain hard, but it was constant, and under the corrugated steel, it sounded a lot harder. It wasn't too cold, but it was wet. Put a damper on thursday and friday. Not many patients. Most of the time was spent going back and forth between main med and the new yet-to-be-nicknamed camping area. the cmo doc and dm have been locked in a single malt duel for years, and now, dm's sidekick puga entered in the game with another bottle, and the self-care supe, a master brewer from lagunitas with a skilled palette for alcohol joined. after the first round, it was clear that the order of presentation was off, so another round was had, and these were full shots each in tall shot glasses, but given the rainy, misty wet weather 'like the highlands' quipped dm, the single malts went well. Dm got wicked drunk hiccups after, comically so, much to everyone's amusement, as he stumbled off to sleep.
The next morn was uneventful. Friday's rain and mist kept everything low key and the place looked empty. In the evening, dm took the crew out to see Lee 'Scratch' Perry, the dub master that mixed many of the early great reggae albums and an old fav of dm's. But the rain was so bad, he cancelled. It wasn't cold, but the rain was steady and the field was maybe a 5th full. Don Carlos, who was supposed to follow him on the main stage, cancelled too. Carlos wound up playing on the small stage right next to JM during dinner the next day, and that was lovely, but Scratch never played at all. It sucked. But it was funny because there was this nooB JNK that had just been instructed on the 'magnet principle' where patients just drop near the JNK because the force is so strong in them, and sure enough, some dude had a syncopal episode right next to the Krew. he was fine, just fell out due to excess and exhaustion, and his timing couldn't have been more perfect as the magnet principle was just discussed moments earlier. So Dm led his stalwart JNK into their favotire SNWMF place - the dancehall. dm skanked there until 3:30am - JAH shaka ruled for a while, but only in the middle of his set. The early part was fumbling and the latter part just went on and on. But it was fun. Dm managed to sleep in on Saturday morn, until he finally had to get up and pee.
Next time - Saturday - the party day!
On Sunday, a lovely warm day, dm made the blast away to scurry home for a father's day date with his daughter, who made lasagna (from frozen, but she managed to turn the oven on, which is a major feat) and tickets for Finding Dory (dm misses seeing movies with her as now she always goes with her teenage friends, not boring old dad). Dm slept in to 9 or so, got some nice breaky at JAH Med, and put his head back together from the night before. All of a sudden it was noon and dm realized he hadn't really shopped at all, hadn't really explored the massive booth-age of cool hippie crap, so he dashed through to see it all and ended up buying some new steal your face metal stickers for his ride. He packed quickly and was off at 1:30. It was hard to leave - one of the emts went diving that morning and brought back some fresh abalone which was being prepared by JM's wonderful cook. He did the same last year and it was incredibly delicious. dm doesn't get abs anymore - too damn expensive. It's been years since he had any, broken only by last years treat. But they wouldn't be ready until dinner so dm could only watch a little of the extensive prep, and go. The ride home usually takes about 3.5 hours. There was traffic from Cloverdale to Daly City. In Petaluma, dm was just stopped, stopped in a stand still, for what seems like eons. Talk about frustrating. Babylon welcomes dm back with a major buzz kill. It took 5.5 hours, making poor dm late for the movie (fortunately the next showing was available, and dm paid, even though it was dm's cub's treat - she doesn't work yet and doesn't have a lot of money). But that ride, oh man, dm was shaking with road rage. And in the end, dm never knew why all the traffic. There was some construction in petaluma but beyond that, there was no other interference.
Dm had traffic on the way in too. SNWMF was bookended with traffic. He left a little after noon, after his landlord's property manager had givne the A-ok for the annual fire alarm inspection, and figured on arriving around 4:20 as is tradition, but didn't quite make it until 5. This year, JM camping was moved from a beloved bone yard (nicknamed 'yaard' - issa jamaican t'ing) to under a corrugated-steel roof next to sheep stables. The space was flat asphalt, shared with security, with power and water, next to the showers. It was cramped and noisy, and the lights were suspicious because they were grow lights, but it rained and all were thankful. It didn't rain hard, but it was constant, and under the corrugated steel, it sounded a lot harder. It wasn't too cold, but it was wet. Put a damper on thursday and friday. Not many patients. Most of the time was spent going back and forth between main med and the new yet-to-be-nicknamed camping area. the cmo doc and dm have been locked in a single malt duel for years, and now, dm's sidekick puga entered in the game with another bottle, and the self-care supe, a master brewer from lagunitas with a skilled palette for alcohol joined. after the first round, it was clear that the order of presentation was off, so another round was had, and these were full shots each in tall shot glasses, but given the rainy, misty wet weather 'like the highlands' quipped dm, the single malts went well. Dm got wicked drunk hiccups after, comically so, much to everyone's amusement, as he stumbled off to sleep.
The next morn was uneventful. Friday's rain and mist kept everything low key and the place looked empty. In the evening, dm took the crew out to see Lee 'Scratch' Perry, the dub master that mixed many of the early great reggae albums and an old fav of dm's. But the rain was so bad, he cancelled. It wasn't cold, but the rain was steady and the field was maybe a 5th full. Don Carlos, who was supposed to follow him on the main stage, cancelled too. Carlos wound up playing on the small stage right next to JM during dinner the next day, and that was lovely, but Scratch never played at all. It sucked. But it was funny because there was this nooB JNK that had just been instructed on the 'magnet principle' where patients just drop near the JNK because the force is so strong in them, and sure enough, some dude had a syncopal episode right next to the Krew. he was fine, just fell out due to excess and exhaustion, and his timing couldn't have been more perfect as the magnet principle was just discussed moments earlier. So Dm led his stalwart JNK into their favotire SNWMF place - the dancehall. dm skanked there until 3:30am - JAH shaka ruled for a while, but only in the middle of his set. The early part was fumbling and the latter part just went on and on. But it was fun. Dm managed to sleep in on Saturday morn, until he finally had to get up and pee.
Next time - Saturday - the party day!
Shadow boxing the apocalypse