Did you hear that?

“What’s wrong? Are you drinking again?” she said.

The Indian restaurant on Sunset Boulevard had a gate with a buzzer for entry. I often wondered, would tonight be the night they don’t let me in? This used to be a bad part of town but things have changed and gentrification is just around the corner. It’s sad, but I have realized that maybe I am the earliest sign of gentrification. Within a few years, I will not be able to stand living here.

They buzzed us in and we sat at our usual table, surrounded by the faces of Indian god-men and women that adorned the walls.

The music was a low drone with an Indian woman howling over the top of it. But there was something else. I heard voices. It was an Indian woman talking through a megaphone from a million miles or years away. I thought it was odd they were playing this strange music. It was very “college radio”. The talking behind the drones and the woman wailing had me completely entranced.

“This is the perfect piece of art,” I replied.

Then there was a click to the right of me as the restaurant owner clicked off the speaker phone he had been checking his messages on. The voices went away and I laughed. I already missed that moment of perfection where I did not know the difference between art and reality.

paru

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White sugar devils

I darted across the street to the liquor store at Normandie and Hollywood. Yes, the one Bukowski talked about robbing in “Tales of Ordinary Madness” (page 7). But I was not here to rob the place or even get a drink. My soul felt empty but I knew the truth. That goddamn sugar addiction. It had been my birthday and I said yes too many times and here I was finally eating Thia food in Thiatown (only because I know how much it upsets everyone when I eat Thia food in Chinatown). But I was unsatisfied. I was offered all the depraved delights of man but I wanted one thing to fill that hole in my soul. SUGAR. Three days of cold turkey would be needed soon, but not tonight. I’ll kick tomorrow as “they” all have said a thousand promise-filled nights.

The liquor store was neon bright but there was darkness in the air. I talked myself into a lower dose and just got an ice-cream bar. The man at the counter did not look me in the eyes when he scanned the item. “Holy Jesus!” i said, as the price $2.89 came up. I am going to quit this shit…tomorrow.

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What is your gift? (dyslexia)

I am dyslexic… so I was told.
That means I see words and letters upside down and out of place. It’s normal… to me. I still read and write daily but am sometimes reliant on proofreaders (my book had four).

I started to notice (through the eyes of others), that this “dyslexia” has given me a unique view of the world. I see and collect information in an “odd” way.  I have come to realize this is a gift.

What is your gift?
Was it sold to you as a disadvantage?

The cool thing about these odd gifts we all have is that they are not available to everyone. You cannot learn to see like a dyslexic.
Just ask Leonardo da Vinci, Tommy Hilfiger, Andy Warhol, Muhammad Ali, Richard Branson, Charles Schwab, Steven Spielberg, John Lennon, Albert Einstein and Thomas Edison.

The origins of Black Market Yoga

I was in Chinatown eating Thai food. Yes, I’ll say it again: I was in Chinatown eating Thai food. I had been bouncing around with a few  spaces that I was teaching yoga in. At this point, none of the studios were interested in having me on staff. Even back in the day it was a little crowded. I knew I was going to have to do it on my own, or as Frank would say, “My Way”. I looked up at the skyline in Chinatown and there was a tall abandoned building someone had broken into and spray painted large art on the windows of the top floor. I immediately thought I should break into this building too, but instead of doing graffiti, I could teach a yoga class. I instantly had a vision of me with a crow bar breaking windows and teaching classes in every abandoned building in Los Angeles. I then had a vision of me getting arrested and I was OK with that. Then I had a vision of you getting arrested. Then I had a vision of me being the only one to show up to these B & E yoga classes. I eventually decided to rent a space instead.

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