By Max R. Weller
Boulder has been very fortunate so far in the 2012 wildfire season, and a few Boulderites seem to have forgotten all about the Fourmile Fire from Labor Day of 2010, which was a firestorm of destruction just like the very recent Waldo Canyon Fire in Colorado Springs. It can’t happen here, you say? It already has happened here — and only those who were under the influence of mind-altering chemicals (50% of Boulder residents) or in a yogic trance (another 25%) could have missed it.
I hope to have most of the material for a possible book finished by the end of July or maybe August, and it will be posted here on my blog in Page form. “How I learned to hate politics” and “Payback in 2005” are works in progress, and there might be a couple more. It’s rather tiring, emotionally, to revisit personal history; but, maybe I can put some of the negative stuff into better perspective from the distance of years. I have difficulty believing that a broader audience would want to read about me in a book — I’m not batshit crazy in an entertaining way like the other Winston Churchill (read the book Forty Demons by Mark Scott-Nash), nor do I have anything really profound to offer.
My physical condition continues to deteriorate in several respects. Just one example, so as not to belabor the point or feel too sorry for myself: I have given up trying to bend over and pull a sock onto my right foot or tie my right bootlace after my morning shower at Boulder Shelter for the Homeless, because my right hip isn’t flexible enough to allow it and I can’t seem to stretch my back muscles to compensate. For several months, it had taken me about 5 minutes to do this simple chore, and I’m through with trying. I shall have to use a lot of foot powder every morning from now on, to avoid becoming a stinker myself. What happens this winter without a sock on my right foot is something I’d rather not think about.
I enjoyed Chester’s fried chicken at my campsite in north Boulder last night, and I didn’t forget to toss the bones out for the foxes and other critters to squabble over. These late dinners, between 7:30 and 8PM, have become my favorite time of the day. It’s just me and surrounding wonders of nature, and I’m able to block out the noise of traffic nearby. Whenever some knuckleheads ask if I know of a good place to camp, I always tell them to go downtown. Tonight: mashed potatoes and mushroom gravy, and fruit cocktail w/extra cherries. It’s remarkable what you can buy already prepared in supermarkets like King Soopers these days, and it only requires reheating, which I do by means of direct sunlight for a couple of hours. Environmentally-friendly posers should note that here in Boulder, CO only the Homeless Philosopher is truly green.