Synthesis Weekly – August 11, 2014

AUGUST 11. FREE, ETC. YOU KNOW THE DRILL

18.

KENDRA MCKINLEY

Storage Warschi co x

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On Main

This week at...

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1/2 OFF WELLS9-10PM

EARLY BIRD SPECIALHALF-OFF COVER BEFORE 10PM(EXLUDES SHOWS W/ PRESALE TICKETS)

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AUGUST 14, 15, 16, 17AUGUST 21, 22DOORS OPEN AT 7PMSHOW STARTS AT 7:30PM

SPECIAL THEATRICAL PLAYTITLED: PAGEANT PLAY

UPCOMING SHOWS:

9/5 Allie Battaglia &MBC and Dylan's Dharma 9/6 Con Brio 9/11 Luminaries w/ Soul Union9/12. TALKING HEADS by Naive Melodies & Swamp Zen9/13 Funk Trek & Sofa Kings9/18 Lil' Smokies & Low Flying Birds9/19 KZFR Fundraiser: MoonAlice 9/24 Kyle Hollingsworth & Swamp Zen9/25 Indubious9/27 Jelly Bread with Gravy Brain

AFROFUNKEXPERIENCE

PTR20011” x 17” Poster

Adobe InDesign05/17/11 mk Paste OFA tag here.

N E W C D Never Be The Same

Afrofunk Experience

FRIDAY 8/29

w/ PITCHBLAKBRASS BAND

D.R.I. DIRTYROTTEN IMBECILES

DOORS OPEN AT 9PM

WEDNESDAY 8/20

MYKAL ROSE& RAGGAE ANGELS

THURSDAY 8/28

SCOTT PEMBERTONTRIO W/

SATURDAY 8/30BLACK STAR SAFARI

A L L A G E S U N T I L 1 0 P MEAT. DRINK. PLAY.

319 MAIN STREET | 530-892-2473

GREAT FOOD! LIVE MUSIC!LESSONS, LEAGUES & TOURNAMENTS!

FREEHOUR OF POOL(WITH PURCHASE)

FRIDAY11 13 15

LIVE JAZZ8PM

THURSDAY14 SUNDAYOPEN MIC COMEDY NIGHT - EVERY OTHER WEEKHAPPY HOUR 2-6PM M-FPOOL RATES CUT IN 1/2!

MONDAY WEDNESDAY 17

CHICKEN & WAFFLEWEDNESDAYHAPPY HOUR 2-6PM M-F

LIVE MUSIC8PM

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 3

Get to know a beautiful singer/songwriter who will be visiting 1078 this week.

There will be blood, and bongs… well, maybe just bongs.

This Week... Columns

by Bob [email protected]

Immaculate Infection

by Zooey [email protected]

Comical Ruminations

by Eli [email protected]

Productivity Wasted

by Logan Kruidenierlogankruidenier.tumblr.com

Supertime!

by Anthony Peyton PorterFrom The Edge

by AnonymousUnsolicited Advice

Pageant PlayPreview

by Koz [email protected]

Kozmik Debris

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by Amy [email protected]

Letter From the Editor

Kendra McKinley

Storage Wars: Chico

COVER PHOTOEmiliano Garcia-Sarnoff

Publisher/Managing EditorAmy Olson

[email protected]

Creative DirectorTanner Ulsh

[email protected]

Entertainment EditorAlex Light

[email protected]/submit-your-

event/

DesignersLiz Watters, Mike [email protected]

DeliveriesJoey Murphy, Jennifer Foti

Contributing WritersArielle Mullen, Bob Howard, Howl, Koz McKev, Tommy Diestel, Jayme

Washburn, Eli Schwartz, Mona Treme, Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff, Jon Williams

PhotographyJessica Sid

Vincent Latham

NerdDain Sandoval

[email protected]

AccountingBen Kirby

Director of Operations Karen Potter

Owner Bill Fishkin

[email protected]

The Synthesis is both owned and published by Apartment 8 Productions. All things published in these pages are the property of Apartment 8 Productions and may not be reproduced, copied or used in any other way, shape or form without the written consent of Apartment 8 Productions. One copy (maybe two) of the Synthesis is available free to residents in Butte, Tehama and Shasta counties. Anyone caught removing papers will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. All opinions expressed throughout the Synthesis are those of the author and are not necessarily the same opinions as Apartment 8

Productions and the Synthesis.The Synthesis welcomes, wants, and will even desperately beg for letters because we care what you think. We can be reached via snail mail at the Synthesis, 210 W. 6th St., Chico, California, 95928. Email [email protected]. Please sign all of your letters with your real name, address and preferably a phone number. We may also edit your

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For 20 years The Synthesis’ goal has remained to provide a forum for entertainment, music, humor, community awareness, opinions,

and change.

210 West 6th Street Chico Ca 95928

[email protected]

Volume 20 Issue 51August 11, 2014

4 SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM AUGUST 11 2014

Daddy-OFirst off, can I just brag a little bit?

For the past six months or so my bathroom sink had to have the handle tipped juuuuust right or it would drip. Every few days I’d make some declaration of intent to fix it “this weekend,” to which Dain would shrug. He’s not handy—doesn’t really get the appeal—but I inherited my dad’s love of puzzling things out and then making them right. Last weekend I finally dropped the $3.00 on a set of new seats and springs, broke out the tools, and voila: perfectly working faucet, followed by about a week of high fiving myself.

It’s my dad’s birthday today, and he’s on my mind more than usual. He’s a really neat guy—incredibly kind and intelligent and polite, and exceptionally talented when it comes to both fixing and building things. I’m finally at an age where I can truly appreciate what a good man he is, how rare his honesty and loyalty are, and seek out a partner who can live up to his example (well, except for the home-repair stuff, but I’ve got that covered).

My dad was born here in 1943, a second generation Chicoan. He used to fish in the creeks, hop trains across town, see magic shows at the Senator Theatre. He caught Polio when he was around eight, watched his family mourn his loss while he spent months in the hospital in San Francisco, but then miraculously came out of it uncrippled. His father (my grandfather, obvs) co-owned a service station with his brother on 5th and Ivy—which is now Franky’s. He worked there in late 1950s–early 1960s Chico—muscle cars and slick hair and words like “boss.” I love his stories.

My dad was in the National Guard in the late ‘60s, and served a two year religious mission in Argentina before attending BYU—where he met a certain English girl named Valerie with a crooked smile, a dry wit, and a spark of mischief. They married and moved here together; lived on Nord Avenue in a house

that’s since been replaced by Westwood Apartments.

He became a mason (a bricklayer, not a member of the public front for the Illuminati—we’re onto you, Freemasons!), and he got really, really good at it. I can point out about a hundred things all over town that he built, which I often do and it isn’t annoying at all (...the brickwork around Big Chico Creek Estates, the foundation for the gazebo at Bidwell Mansion, the stonework on that weird castle-house over by Five Mile…). He’s a part of this town in so many little ways, quiet and stable as the medium he chose.

When my mom had a stroke at 37; when she lost the ability to move half her body; when her friends disappeared like she had a contagious disease; when his beautiful, vibrant wife was suddenly like a crushed flower, he loved her more than ever. Because of him, his friendship and care and support, her happiness didn’t end with that tragedy. She regained her ability to walk, regained her autonomy, and had 30 more years knowing she was loved. That’s the kind of guy he is.

Happy birthday, Dad—I couldn’t be more proud of you.

by Amy [email protected]

Letter From the Editor

WHAT I LEARNED FROM MY FATHER

PET OF THE WEEK

RaylandRayland is a 9 month old Labrador mix looking for someone to take him on runs, play ball, and take him the river for a nice swim. This cute guy is an all around fantastic dog, with a loving heart and energy to spare! He gets along great with other dogs but is rather rough, and would appreciate a canine buddy that is tolerant of his puppy play.

Now Hear This

Tanner

Mike

Becca

Dinah

Alex

Mac Miller - “Red Dot Music”

Drake - “0 to 100”

Iamsu! - “Only That Real”

Hank Green - “I Fucking Love Science”

Kendra McKinley - “Convince Me”

SYNTHESIS WEEKLY PLAYLIST

2579 Fair Street Chico, CA 95928 (530) 343-7917 • buttehumane.org

Iamsu!


The best show of the year is the show featuring that big-name artist you’ve always wanted to see in your hometown. The best show of the year is the one where you catch an up and coming artist in a small club with a dozen people in attendance. The best show of the year features an S&M segment that leaves you feeling a little sick to your stomach. The best show of the year is a Swedish pop duo featuring cello and recorder playing in a pizza parlor out on West Sacramento. The best show of the year is the one where you smoked a joint in the alley with a beautiful boy and ended up going home with him afterwards. The best show of the year had you rocking and shaking like a leaf on a tree; the lead guitarist hits a feedback driven note that sends lightning through your brain and opens your mind up to a different kind of understanding.

Personal Bests

At the best show of the year I met the woman who would become my wife, spent three days hanging out with her, and married her four months later. I got punched in the head walking home from the best show of the year after I decided to yell at a guy who was verbally abusing his girlfriend. At the best show of the year a punk band from New York City taught me what it really means to rock. At the best show of the year a hard rock band from San Francisco did the same thing. At the best show of the year a band from the Bay Area taught me that you can add a brass section to punk rock and set the whole room

For people who are familiar with TLC’s Toddlers in Tiaras—or people who are familiar with the fact that there’s such a thing as child beauty pageants where adults take little girls and dress/paint/shellac them into freakish little doll-people for their own amusement and vicarious sense of importance—the concept that the child pageant world is full of trashy, crazy people is well known.

It should be too sad to watch, but it’s actually pretty funny. And like a train wreck. Like a train wreck full of funny clowns, and all the clowns just keep piling out of the wrecked train like so much Mountain Dew and Red Bull being vomited out by an overly made-up four-year-old with a southern drawl and a superiority complex, while behind her two pageant moms are clawing at each others eyes in a Dynasty-style catfight.

Anyway, if you like that sort of thing, Lost on Main is hosting a special treat for the next couple of weekends: The beautiful mess that is Pageant Play, written by Matthew Wilkes and Mark Setlock.

Half the cast popped in the other day to tell me about it, fresh and bubbly off an interview with KCHO. I deflated their enthusiasm quickly by making them spell everything they said right afterward, because I hate happiness.

What’s it about?

“It’s a black comedy,” said Samantha Perry (who plays Marge, mother to Puddles—played by her real-life five-year-old daughter Penelope in her stage debut). “—not a comedy done in blackface, though.” interjected Erika Sorensen (who plays rival mother, Pinky). “Right,” confirmed Samantha with a nod, “it’s a black comedy done by white people.” Producer/Assistant Director Autumn Jay steered us back, “Just call it a dark comedy, a satirical, farcical, dark comedy.”

The basic story is that there’s this pageant mom, Pinky (so-called because she REALLY likes pink), who is used to always winning—well... having her daughter always win, but what’s the difference, really? Another mom, Marge (so-called because she really likes

to reeling. At the best show of the year a punk band from Washington showed me that you don’t have to re-invent the wheel, but you do have to make it right if you want it to roll well.

Venues and Results

The best show of the year is in a big club, a dive bar, on the patio of a restaurant, in a friend’s living room. The best show of the year was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; it was so loud you can’t hear yourself shouting at the top of your lungs.

The best show of the year will change your life in ways you cannot even begin to imagine. It will send you into uncharted waters; it will redefine your world. The best show of the year will introduce you to new friends, it will change your belief system; it will corrupt your soul and expand your heart. The best show of the year will leave you feeling hollow and depressed the next day; the only cure will be the funneling of endless cold beers into your haggard face. The best show of the year will help you recognize the ceaseless energy-bond that joins us all together.

The best show of the year is the one you go to.

margarine, I assume), comes on the scene with her daughter Puddles, snatching victory from a much chagrined Pinky. Not one to take this sort of thing lightly, Pinky enlists the help of power couple Bob & Bobby, of “Touch the Sky Finesse Coaching,” to try to take that kid down. The whole thing is set in Texas, and some really dark (and hilarious) shit happens.

An interesting side note: This is one of the first projects to be born in The Barn, so to speak. Since you can’t very well workshop and rehearse this sort of thing in the middle of Starbucks, they took advantage of Craig Blamer’s new artist’s haven. I asked how that was, and after a few jokes about the horror-movie bathroom, they laid thick praise on both the man and the space. While they acknowledged there are still some bugs to be worked out as far as placating cranky neighbors and establishing that it isn’t a hangout for local transients, overall their experience was extremely positive and it made this play possible.

Pageant Play is directed by Alyssa Larsen, and was costumed (to accolades from the cast) by designer Nan Miner. It stars (in no particular order) Erika Sorensen, Samantha Perry, Penelope Perry, Cameron Hoffman, Mark McGinnis, and Autumn Jay. Set design by Shaunna Jones.

Lost On MainAugust 14–17 & 21–22Doors open 7pm, show at 7:30pm$10for reservations call (530) 521-2529for Mature Audiences

The Best Show of the Year – Guaranteed

Pageant PlayGETTING ALL HONEY BOO BOO AT LOST ON MAIN

by Bob [email protected]

Immaculate Infection

THE BEST SHOW OF THE YEAR IS THE ONE YOU GO TO.


Prison Architect’s Alpha

I don’t normally review games until they’ve hit version 1.0, but I’ll make an exception for the Early Access game that’s been on the lips of many. Introversion Software’s Prison Architect takes a remarkably simple premise: you are responsible for building and managing a functional prison. That doesn’t sound so complicated, does it?

If you answered yes, you don’t know anything about the prison system. There’s a brief tutorial which, aside from a few unnecessarily long cut scenes to help remind you that everyone in your prison has a backstory, teach you how to build and run the basic utilities. What it doesn’t tell you is that your prison is not built with the goal of keeping and rehabilitating dangerous criminals. It is built to make money. You can finish your game of Prison Architect whenever you want, and you do so by selling the whole thing to a large company or an ambitious CEO.

The government pays you per prisoner, and pays a higher rate the more dangerous and skilled the prisoner you hold. The difference is important: an 18-year-old in for petty theft and vandalism couldn’t hurt a guard with a knife, but a 35-year-old veteran-turned-terrorist with twelve separate counts of murder will take down SWAT with his bare hands. From these mechanics we’re left with a basic income economy: take as many prisoners as you can possibly hold. But there’s more! The government (and private companies) can provide generous grants to help your prison meet their standards (or human experiments), and it quickly becomes apparent that safety, humane treatment, rehabilitation, and other cute ideas become entirely optional in the face of governmental support for simple checklist-based objectives.

by Eli [email protected]

Productivity Wasted

Most of your prisoners should be fed, but really, who are they going to complain to? Their relatives? Not if you refuse to build phone booths and a visiting area! Instead, why not use those funds to build classrooms and workshops, where you educate your prisoners in the art of menial labor, and make them work sweatshop hours on gruel under the caring eye of men armed with military grade hardware?

Prison Architect has gotten some flak for being “irresponsible” and “trivializing” the issue of the prison industrial complex, but really, I couldn’t disagree more. Nothing makes one realize the incredible disenfranchisement and raw capitalistic tyranny of prison’s byzantine bureaucracy like running your own private prison. If I want to, I can authorize my guards to use lethal force and lock my prisoners alone in a room with no light or people for days. Then, when my prisoners rebel against me, I can make the death penalty legal policy in response to bad behavior. Meanwhile, the rest of them are spending their time in the workshop, manufacturing new, superior items that will go straight back into the self-sufficient fiefdom I have created. Of course, you could always give them roomy cells, three meals a day, and full rehabilitation suites, but then my prison would only be worth a few hundred grand. I can sell some CEO a kingdom for a few million instead.

Prison Architect is still in alpha, but its complex, addictive, and completely terrifying. I can’t wait to see what version 1.0 brings.

BLUEPRINTS, FINANCE, STABBINGS

PHOTOS BY JESSICA SID On The Town FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 7

Treasures Insideexotic adventures in smalltown, usa

by Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff


The sky is the blue of a welding torch’s flame, and clouds are streaking across it, swirling and dissipating like tear gas. It’s not yet midday, but it’s already hot as fuck.

Ken’s not here yet. I know Ken from playing poker (which I’ve gotten maybe a little too into since writing a story about poker tournaments). He said he was into this storage auction thing; I asked if I could tag along and he said yeah. But, like I said, Ken’s not here yet.

So I’m out in front of Chico Mini Storage, leaned up on a car under a shade tree with a couple of early arrivals, older guys. One—his name is Dean—has slicked-back silver hair, a fleshy hairless face, and a gut that’s more of an appendage than a torso. Dean travels today with a boy of perhaps 11, who I never see speak. Some sort of family relation.

“He’s full-blooded Indian!” Dean announces in his country accent. The boy sits under the tree, twiddling some grass, staring.

Dean, who’s been doing these auctions for two and a half years, explains the demographics. “We get our newcomers. They come once, maybe twice. Some of ‘em, they’ll stay ‘til they’ve lost all their marijuana money. See, if you’re a ‘tomato farmer’ [big air quotes], it’s a good way to hide yer income. A lot’v ‘em open up a shop and run their money that way.

[Dean pauses briefly, as if actually considering what the hell he’s talking about] Now…I don’t know that fer shure.”

Dean goes momentarily quiet. A couple guys begin relating a story in which a unit was filled wall to wall with nice looking wine boxes. Stacked up real nice. Real nice looking boxes, they were. The bidding went pretty high on account of the possibility the boxes were filled with valuable wine. But that’s all they were: boxes. Just empty boxes.

Dean explains that it wouldn’t’ve made no difference, nohow. “See, wine: it’s like women,” he says. “When they get old they turn to vinegar. They get reeeal bitter. Before 30 they’re just scatterbrained.”

Twenty or so people have arrived at this point (there will eventually be close to 50). They’re mostly older men, but there are some couples, too, even a few toddlers (accompanied). They wear different sorts of hats, shades. A few heavyset guys carry personal folding chairs. Pros have a couple padlocks locked to their belt loops, ready.

Ken finally shows up. We nod what’s up to each other. Ken is cool as cool can be. In his late forties, I’d guess. He’s kind of on the smaller side, with thin, red-orange hair that levitates like it was rubbed with a balloon and flutters around like flames, and he’s got on

purple Chucks with red laces, deteriorating shorts and an ancient de-sleeved white T, which shows off his tats: an Ace and Deuce of spades on his left forearm (the names of his now deceased dogs), and a Queen of Hearts on his right forearm, with flames around it and the words “Love Burns.” On each calf, he’s got Red Sox emblems, and he speaks with a heavy Boston accent.

The auctioneer—a goateed guy name Jack, who’s walking with the aid of a crutch—has arrived, too. Jack’s been calling auctions since he was 14. His dad—who was a “wheeling and dealing, buying and selling kinda guy”—got him into it. “It’s the one thing I know how to do, only job I ever had,” Jack tells me. Jack, motioning with his crutch, gathers the assembled, then describes the terms and conditions, though pretty much everyone there besides me has heard them a million times.

If you buy a unit, Jack explains, you’ve got to take everything—every last thing—and have it swept out by tomorrow. Baby pictures, court documents, Grandma’s ashes, etc, ought to be returned so as not to be a total dick (Jack doesn’t use those words, but it’s implied). Visible firearms are not included, per the law. And there are “no checks, no credit cards, no ATM. Strictly green paper.”

Across the baking blacktop, through the wavy


air bringing up those hot oily smells, through the rat’s maze of dough-colored stucco and blue, ribbed, roll-up doors, Jack leads us to the first unit. There are 25 up for auction today (spread between two locations).

On the way over, Dean helpfully explains to anyone within earshot that Aztecs were cannibals who killed for food (“Whaddaya think those human sacrifices were about?!?!”) while the Indian boy trails mutely at his side.

The accordion doors go loudly up. There, before us, are some sad sack’s/sackess’s/inter-sack’s personal belongings; baby toys, a few boxes, a dresser. The Seekers take turns contorting themselves into various side-bends, or periscoping up on tippy-toes, trying to see as much as they can, trying to find some secret clue as to what’s inside. Because you can’t cross into the unit, see. You can’t touch. You just have to get all Sherlock and shit; use your powers of induction or deduction or whichever one it is.

What sort of person did these things belong to? What could be back in those tightly packed cardboard boxes, the ones in the back?

“OK, kids!” Jack announces to the crowd, who have now mostly retreated back into the thin slices of pre-noon shade alongside the opposing units. “E41 is the unit! Give it a bid!” And then he starts up that fast auctioneering thing: “ten, ten, ten, do I hear fifteen?”

According to the Self Storage Association’s latest numbers, there are some 78 square miles of self-storage currently for rent in the United States. (For reference, the entirety of Chico is about 33 square miles). That’s 21 square feet for every household in America. In 1995, one out of 17 households had a unit. Now it’s more like one in ten. Commercial self-storage wasn’t even a thing back in the early 1960s. But for the past 35 years it’s been one of commercial real estate’s fastest growing segments.

Things done changed. There’s, like,

sociological shifts at play. We move more, that’s for sure. We move on up (infrequently). We move back in with mom (more often). We move in together —feel inexplicably stifled; something moves within us to move on. We divorce more; move out. We go to jail more. We live out of our cars more, just moving them enough to avoid tickets.

We keep buying shit and we keep moving. Maybe we keep buying shit partly because we keep moving, actually. There seems to be some sort of connection between our a-historical landlessness, our groundlessness, our lack of a big unifying story that ties us all together and that restless, not-ok-ness, that insatiable hole of sadness inside us that drives us to—among other things—keep shopping. Don’t you think?

On one edge, the storage facility abuts a trailer park, separated by a high fence topped with razor wire. A cloudy-eyed terrier in a little trailer “yard” is barking at us with metronomic regularity. A bidder’s baby wails, singing out in

pre-linguistic despair at the human condition, or else maybe because it has gas. The Indian boy is leaned up against a stucco wall, in a world of his own.

People disparage each other’s bids, jokingly and not-so-jokingly, shaking their heads. They tease about “gold bars in there” or “maybe it’s a Picasso.” There’s a jovial and commiserative but subtly passive-aggressive atmosphere amongst the bidders that I really like.

We come to a unit containing a glass bong, a snowboard, and a surfboard with black skulls spray-painted all over it, plus other sundry bro-things. It’s fun/sad (mostly sad) imagining the people these things belong(ed) to; working backwards from the stuff to the human.

The bong gets people talking. “Yep,” Dean says. “You find illicit drugs. I found seven pounds of marijuana shake.” Someone recommends to Dean that he put the shake in his socks and walk around to make hash.


I can’t tell if this someone is serious. Ken talks about all the cool pipes he’s found, including “this really cool one carved outta wood of this couple fucking.”

This dude who drives a white Hummer and wears mirrored Oakleys with air vents built into them and a Rockstar Energy Drink Shirt and bracelets on each wrist made of bullets and a gelled-up faux-hawk—who I once wrote about because he was selling assault weapons and bulletproof vests and masks at a gun show—tells me that, in a unit he paid $1700 for, he found countless thousands of dollars (he didn’t want to specify just how much) in “original women’s rights documents from 1856” and gold and silver all inside of an actual treasure chest dated to 1876. He talks at length about 19th Century Feminism, which he studied in order understand his cache.

A big guy in a straw hat poses for a picture in front of the unit he just bought for $1. It’s basically just a pile of dirt and old plastic hangers. I would have paid $1 not to have this unit. Maybe even $5. A lot of the units are this way. They look ransacked. The renters clearly already came through and took anything of real value before the facility slapped their own lock on.

But it’s the other kind of unit that really makes you think. Like the one with the street-legal, three-wheeled racing golf-cart-thing and the rows and rows of carefully organized expensive-looking tools, ceiling high in some places. No one would just leave this stuff over a few hundred dollars. Something happened. What?

Of course, from the buyers’ perspective, these Someone-Else’s-Personal-Tragedy Units are the most promising.

“I look for that,” Ken tells me, when a unit’s door is rolled up to reveal boxes and bags covered in spider webs and a thick, velvety layer of grey-brown dust. “Means no one’s been in here for a long time.”

Sometimes, Ken says, bidders know precisely what’s inside the units they’re bidding on. Because it’s their shit. “Maybe they owe $500,” he explains. “But they figure they can get their stuff back for $300.”

I mention to Ken that this Storage Auctioning seems to have a lot of similarities to poker, actually. You’ve got limited information, you’re trying to get an informational edge over your competitors, and you’re trying to win as many big scores as possible while risking as little as possible of your own capital. Plus there’s the thrill of big wins.

Ken nods. “Yeah. When I’m bidding, sometimes I’ll go way above my threshold just to run [other bidders] up,” he says. “Then they’ll have less firepower for the next one. It’s all a game.”

It’s fun watching Ken play. When a unit full of nice toys and clean, stacked plastic bins is revealed, he starts pacing back and forth like Mike Tyson before a fight—like a small, pale, redheaded, muscle-less Mike Tyson fighting over boxes of used dolls and blankies. He bids with these cool subtle nods, eyes feral and intense. Sometimes he waits until things are “going twice, going three times” before putting in a bid, last-second. Ken takes the unit for $120, and we go through it, and it’s filled with several hundred dollars in really nice toys, a microscope/telescope, a bike, a little kid guitar. It’s one of the best scores of the day, for sure.

“Pride of ownership,” Ken says, in that Bostonian accent, satisfied. “I saw pride of ownership in there.”

I help Ken move his new toys into his beat-up, windowless, psycho-killer van. The van has hand-drawn pictures of a dragon and mushrooms on it and says “CALM YOUR INNER DRAGON WITH A MASSAGE FROM STRESS LESS SMILE MORE MASSAGE CHICO’s MOST AFFORDABLE MASSAGE.”

Ken tells me that last night he and his woman gave a client a “mirror massage,” wherein the client stood stripped down in her backyard under the infinite stars and Ken and his woman massaged her simultaneously, one massaging her front while the other massaged her back, mirroring each other’s movements. Fuck, Ken is cool. Dude doesn’t live by anybody’s rules but his own, and he’s winning; winning.

Soon after, I say bye to Ken, leave. Past Dean and his wonderful wrong-about-everything stories, past Jack: be-crutched Lord of Loss and Gain, past the cute old couple down from Oregon who do cute old-couple-bickering over what to bid and walk arm in arm, leaning in on each other, past the obese man missing the teeth from the right side of his mouth who once came up on 14K in Oriental antiques from a $275 unit, past all the STUFF, past the Indian boy squatting in the sun.

Dear Indian Boy: What do you make of all this madness?

Dear World: Is there no end to the treasures we can find if only we’ll go peering into neglected places, asking, looking for clues, risking a little bit of ourselves, taking a chance?

When: Saturda~ August 23rd Time: 4pm - 7pm Cost: FREE! Bring your swimsuits for a fun time in our pools, Splash Park and a bounce house for the kids. Enioy many food options through Chico's best Food Trucks and all drinks provided by the Cabana Cafe. Lifeguards and security provided by In Motion Fitness.

•Food Trucks •Bounce House •Beer and Wine •Splash Park •Swimming Pools (Lifeguards on Duty)

•Bring The Entire Family!

A!"'- ,,, m'""''"" FITnEIJ H.,!:SOl\_T . HLALTH CLLIB • CAI I f~ II I U I IUI f 1293 E First Ave Chico 343·5678 wv.w 1nmot 1onf1tncss net

WE ARE LOOKING FOR CONTESTANTS TO BATTLE IT OUT IN DUFFY'S 25 YEAR ANNIVERSARY

GONG SHOW ON SATURDAY. SEPTEMBER 27TH AT 8:00PM.

What's a GONG SHOW? Hungry amateurs will compete in a talent contest

that will be judged by a panel of local celebrities. If the act is so bad that the judges can't bear to watch it, they have the power to hit the gong and send the

performer or performers off the stage. If they are not gonged, they move forward in the competition where they can win incredible prizes sponsored by none other than Duffy's Tavern. We are searching for that perfect act -there is no boundary! Dance,

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117 E 2nd St, Chico (530) 895-8817 171 E 2ND ST • DOWNTOWN CHICO



THE WESTERLIES (NY)

USNEA (RELAPSE RECORDS DOOM METAL)

GRAMMY NOMINEE DELLA MAE

CHASE MANHATTAN, BOATS, EYERE EYES

1078 GALLERYNew York-based 4-piece brass quartet, whaaaat? The original music coming out through The Westerlies is beautiful. Their pieces are instantly timeless; evocative journeys of wordless music that put you in really pleasant, subjective places within the MIND, dude. Also featuring Pull-String Duo—locals David Dvorin and Matej Seda play archtop guitar and violin, respectively, constructing original jazzy/classical pieces for your SOUL, man. $5, 7:30pm.

1078 GALLERYLearn what Doom Metal is all about. Doom sounds kind of like walking through the trenches immedi-ately after the Great War, and then you see these 10 foot tall skeletons emerge from the earth, and they start growling magical words of power in ancient languages. It looks kind of like dudes with beards. Bring ear plugs. Also featuring Forn, Funerary, and Amarok. $7, 9pm.

SIERRA NEVADA BIG ROOMDella’s a drop-dead gorgeous powerhouse of heavy, shreddy bluegrass. Her latest LP is nominated for a grammy. Her fiddle player Kimber Ludiker is a two-time National Fiddle Champion. Her whole band is really good looking. This show sold out last time it came through the Big Room… It might be sold out by the time this goes to print… Look into it. Show starts at 7:30pm, costs $20.

BASSMINTOn his way out to the playa, Chase Manhattan from Portland is stopping in at BassMint to mix his sweet hip hop bass music for all the Chicoans that need to dance reeeal heavy and reeeal slow. All the newbie information: BassMint happens in Peking, next to Momma’s on 2nd Street. Starts at 9:30, and it’s ridic-ulously cheap if you get there in the first hour. 21+, sake, beer, best sound system in town, BASS.

Tuesday, August 12th

Thursday, August 14th

Tuesday, August 12th

Friday, August 15th

This Week Only...BEST BETS IN ENTERTAINMENT

SUBMIT YOUR EVENTS [email protected]


Ongoing Events: 11 Monday The Bear: Bear-E-oke! 9pmChico Womens Club: Prenatal Yoga. 5:30-6:30pmDownLo: Pool League. 3 player teams, signup with bartender. 7pm. All ages until 10pmMaltese: Open Mic Comedy or Mu-sic, alternates every week. Signups at 8pm, starts at 9pm. Mug Night 7-11:30pmThe Tackle Box: Latin Dance Classes. Free, 7-9pmUniversity Bar: Free Pool 6-8pmYoga Center Of Chico: Sound Healing w. Emiliano. Breathwork, Meditation, Healing.

12 Tuesday 100th Monkey: Fusion Belly Dance mixed-level class, with BellySutra. $8/class or $32/month. 6pmOpen Mic plus showcase by local musicians. 7pmChico Women’s Club: Yoga. 9-10am. Afro Carribean Dance. $10/class or $35/mo. 5:50-7pm. Followed by Capoeira, $3-$10. 7:30-8:30pmCrazy Horse Saloon: All Request Karaoke. 21+DownLo: Game night. All ages until 10pmHoliday Inn Bar: Salsa Lessons, 7-10pm LaSalles: ’90s night. 21+Maltese: Karaoke. 9pm-CloseStudio Inn Lounge: Karaoke. 8:30pm-1amThe Tackle Box: Karaoke, 9pmUniversity Bar: Free Pool 6-8pmWoodstocks: Trivia Challenge. Call at 4pm to reserve a table. Starts 6:30pm

13 Wednesday Avenue 9 Gallery: “Chico Icons 2014: Historic Heart & Arteries”

Group Exhibition. 12-5pmThe Bear: Trike Races. Post time 10pmChico Women’s Club: Afro Brazilian Dance. 5:30-7pm DownLo: Wednesday night jazz. 8 Ball Tournament, signups 6pm, starts 7pmDuffys: Dance Night! DJ Spenny and Jeff Howse. $1, 9pmThe Graduate: Free Pool after 10pmJesus Center: Derelict Voice Writing Group, everyone welcome. 9-10:30amThe Maltese: Friends With Vinyl! Bring your vinyl and share up to 3 songs/12 minutes on the turntable. 9pm-1amThe Tackle Box: Line Dance classes. Free, 5:30-7:30pm. Swing Dance classes. Free, 7:30-9:30pmUniversity Bar: Free Pool 6-8pmVIP Ultra Lounge: Laurie Dana. 7-9pmWoodstocks: Trivia Night plus Happy Hour. call at 4pm to reserve a table. Starts at 8pm

14 Thursday Avenue 9 Gallery: “Chico Icons 2014: Historic Heart & Arteries” Group Exhibition. 12-5pmThe Beach: DJ Mack Morris. 10:30pmThe Bear: DJ Dancing. Free, 9pmDownLo: Chico Jazz Collective. 8-11pm. All ages until 10pmThe Graduate: Free Pool after 10pmHas Beans Downtown: Open Mic Night. 7-10pm. Signups start at 6pmHoliday Inn Bar: Karaoke. 8pm-mid-nightLaSalles: Free live music on the patio. 6-9pmMaltese: Karaoke. 9pm-closePanamas: Buck night and DJ Eclectic & guests on the patio. 9pm

Quackers: Karaoke night with Andy. 9pm-1amUniversity Bar: Free Pool 6-8pmVIP Ultra Lounge: Acoustic perfor-mance with Bradley Relf. 7-9pm. No Cover.Woodstocks: Open Mic NightYoga Center Of Chico: Ecstatic Dance with Clay Olson. 7:30-9:30pm

15 Friday Avenue 9 Gallery: “Chico Icons 2014: Historic Heart & Arteries” Group Exhibition. 12-5pmThe Beach: DJ2k & Mack Morris. 9pmThe Bear: DJ Dancing. Free, 9pmCafe Coda: Friday Morning Jazz with Bogg. 11amChico Art Center: National All Media Juried Exhibition. 10am-4pmCrazy Horse Saloon: Fusion Fridays, the best country, rock, oldies, 80s & top 40. Country dance lessons 9-10:30pmDownLo: ½ off pool. All ages until 10pm. Live Music, 8pmDuffys: Pub Scouts - Happy Hour. 4-7pmThe Graduate: Free Pool after 10pmHoliday Inn Bar: DJ Dance Party. 8pm-midnightLaSalles: Open Mic night on the patio. 6-9pmMaltese: Happy hour with live jazz by Bogg. 5-7pm. LGBTQ+ Dance Party. 9pmPanamas: Jigga Julee, DJ Mah on the patio. 9pmPeeking: BassMint. Weekly electronic dance party. $1-$5, 9:30pmQuackers: Live DJ. 9pmSultan’s Bistro: Bellydance Performance. 6:30-7:30pmUniversity Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm

16 Saturday Avenue 9 Gallery: “Chico Icons 2014: Historic Heart & Arteries” Group Exhibition. 12-5pmThe Beach: DJ Mah. 9pmThe Bear: DJ Dancing. No Cover. 9pmChico Art Center: National All Media Juried Exhibition. 10am-4pmCrazy Horse Saloon: Ladies Night Dancing. 10pm-1:30am DownLo: 9 Ball tournament. Signups at noon, starts at 1pm. All ages until 10pmThe Graduate: Free Pool after 10pmHoliday Inn Bar: DJ Dancing. 70s and 80s music. The Molly Gunn’s Revival! 8pm-midnightLaSalles: 80’s Night. 8pm-closeMaltese: Dragopolis. $3, 10pmPanamas: DJ Eclectic on the patio. 9pmUniversity Bar: Free Pool 6-8pmYoga Center Of Chico: Mind Power Workshop w. Gayle Kimball, Ph.D. 1-4pm

17 Sunday Chico Art Center: National All Media Juried Exhibition. 10am-4pmDorothy Johnson Center: Soul Shake Dance Church. Free-style dance wave, $8-$15 sliding scale. 10am-12:30pmDownLo: Free Pool, 1 hour with ev-ery $8 purchase. All ages until 10pmLaSalles: Karaoke. 9pmMaltese: Live Jazz 4-7pm. Trivia 8pmTackle Box: Karaoke, 8pm

New & Exciting:12 Tuesday 1078 Gallery: The Westerlies, Pull String Trio. $5, 7:30pmSierra Nevada Big Room: Della Mae. $20, 7:30pm14 Thursday 1078 Gallery: Amarok, Usnea (OR), Forn (Boston), Funerary (AZ). $7, 9pmChico Theatre Company: Singin’ In The Rain. $20 adults, $12 children, 7:30pmEl Rey Theatre: Wade Bowen, Sean McConnell. $12 adv., $15 door, 7:30pmLaSalles: Happy Hour with Three Fingers Whiskey. 4-8pmLost On Main: Pageant Play. $10, All Ages, Rated M, 7pmMonstros: Badger, PSO, Criminal Wave, Gorilla X Monsoon. $5, 8pmSierra Nevada Big Room: Robben Ford & The Ford Brothers Band. SOLD OUT15 Friday Chico Art Center: National All Media Juried Exhibition art reception. 5-7pmChico Theatre Company: Singin’ In The Rain. $20 adults, $12 children, 7:30pmCity Plaza: Quasimofos. 7-8:30pmLaSalles: Happy Hour with Tyler DeVoll. 4-8pmForeplay with DJ Electric. 10pmLost On Main: Pageant Play. $10, All Ages, Rated M, 7pmMaltese: The Amblers, Cities, The LoLos. $5, 9pmPeking: BassMint. Chase Manhattan (OR), Boats (Bay Area), Eyere Eyes. 9:30pm16 Saturday 1078 Gallery: Kendra McKinley, Geoff Baker, Michael Bone. $5, 7:30pmChico Theatre Company: Singin’ In The Rain. $20 adults, $12 children, 7:30pmGreat State Coffee Company: Chi-koko Trunk Show. 6-10pmLaSalles: Happy Hour with Tough Love. 4-8pmLost On Main: Pageant Play. $10, All Ages, Rated M, 7pm17 Sunday Chico Theatre Company: Singin’ In The Rain. $20 adults, $12 children, 2pmLost On Main: Pageant Play. $10, All Ages, Rated M, 7pm

EAT. DRINK. PLAY.

Find Out How you Can Play Pool for Only $1/Day! 319 Main Street (530) 892-2473

LESSONS, LEAGUES AND TOURNAMENTS!

GREAT FOOD!

LIVE MUSIC!

PHOTOS BY VINCE LATHAMFACEBOOK.COM/VANGUARD.PHOTOGRAPHYOn The Town


Welcome to Unsolicited Advice, an open column space for anyone who wants to tell someone, or everyone, what’s what. Submit your 500 words to [email protected]

Here’s the news, children: Anyone who is not already a revolutionary is either stupid or evil. Revolution in this context means refusing to participate in violence, and insisting on the laws and traditions of the United States of America. Blowing shit up and killing people is stupid; it’s their game, for one thing. Also, we don’t make things better by making things worse; we make things better by making things better. (Duh.)

“Power to the people” is a stupid slogan. The people have all the power they need. Economic power is political power; therefore, economic behavior is political behavior. If The People weren’t intellectually and morally bankrupt, they would refuse to give their money to the corporate thugs and perverts who run this nation and power would flow in channels more consonant with individual liberty, the true long-term welfare of the nation, and (for instance) what Jesus actually said (since we hear all this noise about this being a Christian nation). When we shut off the noises coming out of the mouths of money-grubbers and look at actions and results—the only things that matter, ever, for any reason—we see that this is a nation of mass murderers, torturers, slave-owners, thieves, and enemies of Government By the People.

Let’s set aside the genocide that gave us whiteys North America, and the centuries of slavery that built the foundations of our economy, and look at our lifetimes: From Vietnam to Iraq, the U.S. has caused the violent deaths of at least five…million…men, women, and children—solid numbers from the best sources. Other people did that; we said bad things about ‘em. We have physically destroyed other people’s homelands,

How to Have a Revolution

overthrown legitimate, popular governments, and supported the worst “leaders” in the world as long as they allowed American money-grubbers to steal everything not nailed down and destroy the rest. Our motto shouldn’t be “E Pluribus Unum,” but “Kill ‘Em and Take Their Stuff.”

Our crimes against humanity are not limited to foreign countries. We are currently hearing that about as many soldiers who died in Vietnam—roughly 58,000—came home, after being forced to take part in one of the great crimes against humanity of the entire 20th century, and committed suicide. That immense suffering and death is on the consciences of Johnson, Nixon, Kissinger, McNamara... But why should they care, among so many millions? Then there is big pharma, alcohol, tobacco, firearms, and the auto industry, which kill their customers—all for the money. (It’s all about the Benjamins, baby!)

Here’s your advice for the day, suckahs: Spending our money is the most powerful political act in our lives. We know that automakers, oil companies, banks, finance companies, and insurance companies (for instance) are Not Our Friends (or we certainly should know). When we give them our money we assume personal and individual responsibility for mass murder, torture, slavery, and the destruction of the living world and of Government By the People. Conversely, when we give it to our neighbors whom we know to be good people and good citizens, we help build our neighborhoods and our country in desirable directions. If we live in the TeeVee fantasy, we spend our lives for no better purpose than to make our owners and masters richer. We can do better.

by AnonymousUnsolicited Advice

PHOTOS BY VINCE LATHAMFACEBOOK.COM/VANGUARD.PHOTOGRAPHY On The Town


by Zooey [email protected]

Comical Ruminations

This past week has been weird. First, everyone lost their minds when it rained. Children lamented the inevitable return of school while others started inexplicably craving pumpkin-flavored anything and desperately trying to untangle scarves from the depths of closets. Also, I learned that street harassment is a more polarizing topic than my usual focus of naps, whiskey, and my numerical rating of different words and phrases that I like/dislike. (For the record, “kismet” = 8, saying anything is “like crack” = 0).

Last week I put forth a lot of effort in trying to articulate in 500 words my feelings on street harassment and the frustrations I feel about the subject. The upside was that I was contacted by quite a large number of women who shared their stories of dealing with harassment, as well as verbal and physical assault. A very small pool of men apparently took to the Synthesis site to share their objections to my thoughts, but I don’t really look at that as a downside. When writing the column last week, it wasn’t with the intention of persuading anyone to share my point of view. I think that whenever you have someone speaking up for women’s rights, it’s inevitable that you will encounter a pool of men who feel the need to remind us overbearing lady-bullies that what we should really be focusing on is the men. I will pause here to allow time for a collective eye roll from most of you.

Anyway, when I wrote that, it wasn’t with the hope of changing the minds of the “but you guyyys, what about the MEN???!!!” group. I was thinking more about the women who might be feeling the way I was a few years

ago; that street harassment of any shade is just part of being a female, something we have to accept and deal with by staying quiet and ignoring the behavior in question. I no longer feel that way.

In any case, I’d just like to say, I’m white. (Stay with me.) I am a white female who grew up in a middle class family in the United States, and as such I am unbelievably privileged in a lot of ways. And for the same reason that I would never attempt to wax lyrical about what it’s like to be African American, men should not be attempting to explain what it’s like to be a woman. Male privilege means that most men will never be street harassed. Yet I think you’d be hard pressed to find a woman who’d never experienced it. According to the CDC and NCADV, one in five African American women, one in five Caucasian women and one in seven Latina women will be raped in their lifetime. One in four women will be the victims of domestic abuse. The overwhelming majority (almost 100 percent), of these crimes are committed by men. (When the victim is a man, the perpetrator is usually also a man).

Sooo… yeah. Here’s the thing. When you talk about how men are just as discriminated against or harassed as women… no. Just no. You’re not wrong in a theoretical way, you are quite simply factually and empirically wrong. Cheers, ladies.

Overbearing Lady-Bullies


Our singer-songwriters come with a certain Chico-area quality. You can hear the cheap beer and the weed, and the ease with which that Chicoan can coast through the week, or the month, or the year, without ever really having to prove him/herself. As an artist, you can similarly coast to the top of your genre with just a little bit of elbow grease, simply because everyone else is too busy enjoying the park.

Kendra McKinley’s of a different caliber. I mean, she actually graduated from college! (Music, classical guitar, UC Santa Cruz.) She absolutely shreds on the guitar, the piano, and most memorably with her voice. Her bright eyes and relaxed smile can fool the unwary Chicoan into thinking she’s another one of us—a happy-but-lazy-pretty-alright musician—but the moment she opens her mouth to sing, the truth is made clear. Kendra kicks way more ass than a lot of us.

Her voice instantly transports me to some place in between the rom-com Before Sunset and the animated fantasy Spirited Away; it carries the tender romantic French-ness of one and the smiling freshness of the other. Listen to her album Chestnut Street while you read this interview, you’ll hear what I mean. Yum.

What was the most recent song of someone else’s that brought tears to your eyes?

A song my big brother wrote: “24th Corridor.”

To what extent would you say living in Santa Cruz informed your album Chestnut Street? In what ways is it different to be writing the next LP in San Francisco?

Most of those songs were written while living in a big yellow house with four of my best

friends on Chestnut Street. That environment nurtured my songwriting tremendously... The house itself sort of served as a muse. Now living in San Francisco... I’m just gathering inspiration from a slew of new influences; people, places, experiences, etc.

Would you say your dreams affect your music? Dreams like the ones when you sleep.

They don’t affect much. I write them down as much as possible… but have yet to turn one into a song. I like to write about what I know, what I’ve experienced; I like to keep my dreams as enigmas.

Tell me about the subjective feelings (or memories?) that went into your song “Canyon Canon.”

That was a poem written by my dear friend Claire Williams, who also lived on Chestnut Street. I was in a composition class at the time and wanted to turn her piece into a song. I wrote the poem in pen on the inside of my arm so I could look at it and think about it. When I was in the shower, the melody came to me instantly and I rushed out to record it.

What was a song you particularly enjoyed

writing?

I liked writing “Convince Me That I’m Not Just Wasting My Time.” I was paying homage to the Tin Pan Alley songwriting style, but then I found my own chord voicings in an alternate guitar tuning. It was an interesting exploration.

Any advice for people wondering if pursuing a degree in music is right for them, as opposed to skipping college and going straight to writing/performance?

One of the most valuable aspects of studying music at UCSC was that it introduced me to a number of incredible people that I might not have met otherwise. As far as whether or not school is right, I can’t answer that. It is entirely up to the individual. Though I will say that I loved studying music at UCSC. It was also over immediately after it started... If anything, school provides the vocabulary necessary for deeper study. But the most educational thing you can do is listen and play as much as possible.

See Kendra McKinley perform live at 1078 Gallery on Saturday, August 16th, alongside Geoff Baker and Michael Bone. Doors open at 7:30pm. $5-$10 sliding scale.

Kendra McKinley Plays 1078 August 16thCOME LEARN A THING OR TWO ABOUT SINGING

BY ALEX LIGHT

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Aries Taurus Gemini Cancer Leo Virgo

Koz McKev is on YouTube, on cable 11 BCTV and is heard on 90.1FM KZFR Chico. Also available by appointment for personal horo-

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AUGUST 11, 2014BY KOZ MCKEV

It’s time to chill after the blast during last weekend’s full moon. This is a highly ener-getic week for you. Venus moves into your fifth house giving you an extra shot of creative energy. It’s time for an art party! The moon will be in Aries Wednesday morning through early Friday morning. The moon conjoins the surprise master Uranus, while the Sun trines the Moon bringing good vibes and the hope of the new to all. Keep-ing Mars under control while you’re hoping others will re-spond favorably to you is the challenge.

You are a deep person with an extreme love for family and security. Making your home a more comfortable place could be part of that focus. Venus moving into your fourth house makes you more of an interior decorator or a family negotiator. The moon in Taurus Friday morn-ing through Sunday early afternoon allows you to re-ally relax and be able to take things down a notch. Monday and Tuesday are your best days for socializing. Pay at-tention to parents and older relatives. Be aware of how your past roots affect your daily interactions.

It might be easy to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life during this period. Movement and gath-ering information is crucial at this time. You have a nose for news these days. Ignoring some news is good for peace of mind. The moon rolls into Gemini late Sunday afternoon. You could end the weekend off with a night of sweetness and/or pleasure. Your mission is to be a good sibling, cous-in and friend. Communicate news of joy. Find the answer in the question. Seek out ways of providing hope.

Do you own possessions or do the possessions that you own possess you? Material-ism can be a big trap. The lighter you go the freer you feel. Values are the focus. You’re in a much more talk-ative mood these days. Your energy for creative activi-ties is expanding. You begin the week with exploration in mind. The work environment is likely to be busy this week. The weekend looks good for socializing and hanging out with friends. Don’t take these contacts for granted. You’ll learn about something that you see as beneficial.

Living righteously isn’t an easy task. One can put out the image of being superhuman for only so long. You might feel a little frustrated or tired toward the beginning of the week. By mid-week your en-ergy is up and you are ready to play once again. Wednes-day and Thursday are days of good fortune for you. Be ready to be inspired. View life as a banquet of opportunity. Venus moves into your first house Tuesday, making you more creative and appealing to oth-ers. The weekend is a good time to display your creative abilities.

Be grateful that you have an inner life. No one can be spot on in every situation. Remem-ber you are your own worst enemy and critic. Do what you can to make good karma. Pay your debts and honor other people’s wishes. Help those who feel isolated. Get enough sleep for yourself. Pay atten-tion to messages in dreams. Early in the week is best for negotiations. Romance could end up getting quite heat-ed. The weekend looks good for travel and adventure. Be your own best friend and take yourself out for a time to com-mune with nature. Mercury moves into Virgo Friday giving you common sense.

Niceness is filling the air all around you. The week may start out a little rough as you have had to adjust to getting down off last weekends major high. By Wednesday you feel like you are ready to love once more. Venus moving into your eleventh house brings social grace and beautiful friends. You might benefit from a par-ty where every attendee cre-ates something. By Sunday night you will be restless for something different and ex-citing. It might be best to lay low over the weekend. You’ll need your strength for next week.

You seem more powerful than usual these days. If you wanted to get yourself in top physical shape now is as good a time as any to initiate that. Mars in your first house makes you seem more dy-namic and independent. Ju-piter, Sun, Venus, and Mercu-ry in your tenth house make it important to move your career life forward. You begin the week with good, creative ideas. You are able to attend to critical detail while making things more beautiful. The weekend looks good for ro-mance, negotiations and en-joying the ones you love.

Enjoy life to its fullest while attempting to make good karma. One is only as good as one’s last act. Do what you can to make peace with those who might not agree with you. Helping others will come naturally since you are luckier than usual. Wednesday and Thursday are super fortunate as well as fun. Travel, learning new things, and being cre-ative comes easily. The week-end looks good for charita-ble causes and projects that require teamwork. Make it a habit to go down streets and paths that you’ve never been on before.

Be a good listener. Be patient with your current situation. Do what you can to make good on your debts. Anger seldom helps in negotiations. Learn to appreciate your lo-cal environment. Seek out dynamic people to help you. Look at different sources of information than you would normally use. Stick to long range plans as you set your goals. The weekend looks good for romance, travel, playtime, and being with children. Figure out what are your most important issues and make a game plan to remedy the challenges.

You find yourself in the mid-dle of a number of issues that need to be remedied. You be-gin the week by preserving that which represents your true values. The middle of the week is more about friends and short trips. Something of an exciting nature could come up this Thursday. By the time the weekend rolls around you’ll want to work on your domestic life, or perhaps visit your parents. Romance gets sweeter with Venus moving into your seventh house of re-lationships. You come off as a good catch. Enjoy this window of opportunity.

Success is based more on good decisions than it is hard work. Most wealth is inher-ited. You are making money the hard way or learning to work with others in order to fulfill a groups goal. You en-joy being charitable so that’s not a problem. Health issues will improve provided you pay attention to what needs to be done. Monday and Tuesday are strong days for you with the moon in Pisces. Finances may improve after Thursday. The weekend looks good for short trips, writing, working with your hands and seeing siblings, friends and neigh-bors.

Libra Scorpio Saggitarius Capricorn Aquarius Pisces


by Anthony Peyton PorterFrom The Edge

HobbesRuth was an animal freak. The first time she was gonna sleep at my place she asked if she could bring her dog. Dog dander wasn’t as bad for my allergies as cat dander, but it wasn’t good. I had had a tableau in mind for a couple of years by then, though, and I already had the glass vase and the black sheets. I just needed Ruth. God, I LOVE antihistamines.

Being around cats was way worse—my eyes teared and itched, my nose sneezed and ran, and everything wheezed. Once my body recognized a cat house I had to decide if my discomfort outweighed my imagined payoff, which would have to be sex or a really good drug to warrant consideration.

Ruth found some expensive potion said to eliminate the allergic effects of animal dander and rubbed it on her cat and dog to good effect. It got me through the night and helped me add to my trove of pleasant memories, which now can make all the difference.

I’ve never had anything against cats themselves, and some of the ones I’ve run across actually sought me out. I’m a little cat-like myself, though not graceful or dignified.

A few weeks ago my son got a kitten from some guy at the Farmers’ Market, and I figured it was fate. After our dog Spock died, Janice and I had talked sporadically about getting a pet, but neither of us wanted anything else to do. I thought of the kitten as therapeutic, and that was enough.

I was right, too. Hobbes has indeed been therapeutic as all get-out and as cute as required. He’s friendly and affectionate and not a bit standoffish, just what was needed.

He also took to his litter box right away.

That may be run-of-the-mill behavior for a cat, but I’ve never lived with a cat, and I was impressed and reassured by Hobbes’s grasp of things.

Then there’s the dark side. A woman was the first to succumb to talking baby talk, and then there was no containing its insidious spread to her grandson, though little more than a baby himself, and then to her daughter and everybody around.

I’ve so far resisted talking baby talk to Hobbes, and I should say here that I didn’t talk baby talk to my own babies. To be virtually driven to talk drivel by another species is alarming, let me tell you.

I am not a babbler yet, neither a blatherer nor a ditherer, for which I’m not so much proud as grateful, because I don’t know that we have a choice in such matters. Some do this, some that. I can’t deny my own fall from grace, though, and I freely admit my current state. Recently basking in the satisfaction of not babbling to Hobbes, I noticed my voice sounding remarkably like Miss Moreland’s, my kindergarten teacher, when she read to us. I still don’t babble, but I do coo.

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Synthesis Weekly – August 11, 2014

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