Way back in nineteen-hundred and ninety-six there wasn't much for a young man (who was struggling with his identity as a human) to do... except to hang out with other humans from the same planet. Some of my fondest memories stem from the foggy nights I'd drive a mile and a half away from the safety of my home to spend some time altering philosophical moments with people I enjoyed calling friends. We would gather in the back yards usually, and then "enhance" ourselves. After the shift we'd begin feeling the difference all around us. We would talk about what may be happening or why...
We would have these great tiny moments of genius and would always comment on how we needed to be recording them. After a while I began to carry around a micro-cassette recorder to capture such moments. Anyone else who has had similar ideas can give a nod to the fact that the thought of one's great moments while in the midst of them can be COMPLETELY different than the comprehension of said moments while crawling through a micro-cassette tape to decipher and/or track down the elusive little bastards.
The following is a memory from a car ride around a little town called Fresno. We were actors that night in a super dramatic scene.
Take One
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