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Amusing story from friend about a legendary former co-worker. We'll call him "Sun-Ra", (not his real name, his "real name" is another Kootenay Alias), he had met the people from the workshops he had in the valley whereupon you'd learn all about Sasquatch, he was something of an expert having published books upon the subject, conducted seminars, offered instruction on psychically channeling these misunderstood hairy men of the forest...
By "the people" of course I mean the people with the "machine". He would, you'd guess, be a natural for this sort of work, his own beliefs and ideologies running as it were somewhat tangent.
I'm curious, I don't have his real name but find it easily enough, there are surprisingly few Sasquatch experts out here, most are dilettantes or pundits, this guy, he's the "real deal". Website, Facebook page (I follow him, why not? Why be here if you don't meet the locals?). Poorly drawn pictures of Sasquatch surrounded by flying saucers ornament the covers of his book. I have to find a copy and read this.
Anyways, back to Sun-Ra, he'd come to work for the company at the behest of the owners, his expertise in Sasquatch implying a scientific rationale that would no doubt be well suited to explaining the machine to potential clients. And first thing he'd do was go for a walk up to Oso, grab a coffee, have a joint, get lit, spend the day there in the garden lecturing and informing his disciples on 'Squatch etiquette and lore, flying saucers, government conspiracies...
Eventually, (by which I mean a year and a half later) they fell out (I gather, amicably enough), he went his own way, back to the valley to doubtless to continue his research, still, something of a legend amongst the old-timers there, no hard feelings but the spirit-guides were a bit off on that one weren't they Martha? A hearty laugh, as dark as they'll ever get.
The owners, since then, have been a little hesitant about hiring True-Believers, a bit of skepticism is fine if not voiced, this job, like an awful lot of jobs nothing like it but like it in every other way, depends on discretion, the ability to quell all reasonable dissent or query, just put your head down and get it done...
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A friend forwards me a link - a GoFundMe page for an old chef I used to work with. The chef, 65ish and forever changing phone numbers - on the run, like so many out here - from a host of irate creditors, ex's, dodgy as fuck. One of those people who make reasonably great money yet - month after month-end - after liquor and cigarettes always a dollar short and a day too late, and when enough of those dollars had added up would skip out on his creditors, find a new town to lie low in.
Only now it seems he's run out of places to hide. He'd left for a year - places unknown, and now he's back.
His job ran out - they always do, he'd start off, make a good impression, only soon he'd be drinking before work and coming in hammered, during work, after work until late the next morning, then repeat. It became too much. And he got other jobs, where sobriety was less important, and they too would run out.
He made good enough money even when he wasn't working. He lived with his girlfriend - another big drinker and smoker, and between them - with CERB and his pension and her band money they easily brought in $6,000 per month. Only it all mysteriously vanishes.
Now the girlfriend - younger - maybe 45, but you wouldn't guess a day under 70. Lifestyle. Severely plagued with predictable health issues - all of which are covered by the band. Now she needs some dental work, and so he has the bright idea of setting up a GoFundMe to raise $5,000 to fund her dental work.
I'm not making this up. And - looking over the link I have to laugh - they - him, her, the band - they could cover this tomorrow - if they laid off the sauce, cut back on the smoking. But of course they can't. They won't. And so they've set up a GoFundMe to pay for dental work she will never get - more a GoFundMe to keep them both on the preferred painkillers of choice (Budweiser), and I'm laughing, shaking my head, how fucked up do you have to be to set up a fundraiser to keep you drunk?
Mind you, there is the invisible machine...
This GoFundMe - it's nothing new, I've seen them for people looking to travel, buy a better car, house, go to Shambala, it's crazy what people feel entitled to, that somehow society is responsible for keeping them in the lifestyle to which they've become accustomed, or is somehow obliged to bail them out of their shitty life choices. Me, I've always grown accustomed to less, had modest ambitions, or none at all, and then learned to lower the bar, realized I was asking too much, and maybe I need to set up a GoFundMe - fuck, I could use serious dental work, a 12" schlong, better Vodka, more cigarettes, and when I got that I could raise the bar, make it a living, sort of "Instagram reality" that would probably be a bit too fucking real for Instagram, but - hey - maybe time to put the "reality" back into reality TV...
Anyways, I saw it, between laughing and outrage had to share.
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It passed - remarkably smoothly I thought. And while I don't think much will change at least I can get the former idiot out of my mind.
Meanwhile - compare the defining photos of these 2 Presidents:
The darling of the Christian Right...
And - The Antichrist.
Frankly I'm a little confused...
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Friend gets a job. No small feat around here, and so I'm getting the details, it's more than a little unbelievable.
The title, maybe "Customer Service", but a more accurate description might be "Energy Shaman". Working for a small company out of Nelson that directs "Energy" or "Positive Thought" or "Intention" or "Prayers" towards $50/month "Subscribers", the benefits of the program include greater wellness and life-satisfaction, etc, etc.
Vague, unsubstantiated benefits that can only be brought to light when you call customer service to cancel your subscription.
It's clearly a scam, and she knows it, and - gathering from the comments of the "trainers" - they know it too, but - hey - it's a job. And apparently all this energy being directed needs a lot of computers and programs so you can input information and route it accordingly - the energy can't go unsolicited, or it may cause harm...
I'm not making this up.
I listen, and ask questions, I sort of have my head around it, but it gets better and better...
8000 Subscribers. $50.00 a month. That's a 5 Million$$ dollar a year business, with 20 or so employees.
The owners of the company - "The Founders", they've built a machine - "A Machine", that routes the energy accordingly. She's asked about it, apparently no one has ever seen it, some say it's at the owner's place, other's that it's somewhere in the US, but they're surprised, when she asks, as if none of them ever thought to ask the same question themselves, then they "shhh" her, the machine, it's not to be discussed, too many questions and you don't want to appear incredulous...
I want to get Jon Ronson onto this, he'd love it, just hearing about it is making me anxious, what would it do for him?
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This was a long standing indefinite plan with the owner's son, that if we survived the summer we'd head off camping and drop some acid.
I agreed, mid summer and fall were yet a long ways away.
October, fall-winter, and the time is nigh. This is the unthinking contract penned with the devil come to fruition.
The first snowfall, I pick up him and his dogs and we head up. Halfway Hot Springs. He's packed everything, dogs, etc. and they pile into the recently cleaned/spotless jeep...
"Spotless" is a bit much, I agree, but for me it was pretty damned good and that's all that matters. And there's a dog-smell, that fills the jeep, and - well, wet dogs, they're not my dogs. Nice dogs, not my dogs.
The drive, a fresh snowfall, lots of vehicles in the ditch. I'm a bit sensitive to this, I've been on ice too many times, slipping, sliding, brakes on full and falling downhill...the abundant cars and trucks off the road on the way don't reassure me. We stop to help a Quebecois, there's always one, trapped sliding down a hill on the logging road, and the jeep slides, almost completes the job he'd begun, finally gains some traction on the sand we've shoveled out for him.
And to the hotsprings. A beautiful place, hot water, various pools to heat up and chill out in, drop our acid, and that's it. I shut him down, this trip, wasn't for him, I'd rather have not dragged him along, and maybe in his own way he's sensing it, he keeps asking me inane questions to which I can only growl.
The next morning, partially restored after too little sleep in the jeep, waking him in his tent, my feet, frozen solid blocks in my shoes, "Get UP GET UP", the long quiet ride back to Balfour.
I knew better, didn't want to be rude, a great time with anyone else, it's me, not him, but I've seldom found anyone with so little I could connect to about.