New York, Boston, and Maine

Our best mistakes
A ripe balloon
They'll hoover down
To the Earth soon.

Our best laid plans
Fall like grenades
To where all our
Games were played.

Rain laid waste
To angel's spots
Flutter down like
Heaven's drops.

A flag waves high
In the foggy sky
Where spiders go to
Mourn and die.

The chiming bell
Cuts through the air
Lets us know
There are others near.

Albino Crocodile
Will we ever see you smile?


I'm in Boston now and have been for a week. Stayed a night in Queens, New York, then took a bus here. I was greeted by Nate a friend my good buddy Sean. It just so happens that they have an extra room at their place for the month of July. It also just so happens that Nate has planned his annual weekend holiday to his family's beach house near Rockland, Maine to coincidentally coincide with my unexpected visit. Before I went to relax on the Atlantic, I need to take care of some business in Boston.

Many of you know the reason I came to Boston. But for those who do not, my very first friend who I haven't seen in four years contacted me from prison asking me to take care of his possessions in his apartment in Wakefield, MA. After his arrest, my friend, Gary, was placed in Bridgewater State Hospital, about forty miles south of Boston. Nate came with me. We rented a car and arrived to a scene I had never seen before, save movies. A huge prison facility with inmates in the yard separated from me by enough razor wire to stop a herd of elephants. When we finally found the hospital, I took a picture of the entrance only to be approached within seconds by two guards telling me I had to delete the photo. They also told us we couldn't go in because of a strict dress code I had failed realize. Luckily we had brought a pair of non-denim pants for Gary to wear to court. With those and the clothes we had on us, we were able to throw together one combination of clothes that would permit us entry. In the car I took a picture reflected from the rear view mirror. You can see the razor wire I speak of..



I walked in, filled out necessary paper work and got my place in line. Now the guards at this place are their own sort. Cold, expressionless, procedural. After looking over my paperwork and "randomly" checking my record, they inform me that Gary is walking out the back door as we speak. He is being discharged to another prison the exact moment I had walked in the front door to see him. Now just think about that for a second. I hadn't had any time schedule to get there. It had taken me over two weeks of traveling with no car and very little money to arrive at this place at that specific moment. Gary had not had any other visitors in his two month stay. The sergeant listens to my story and tells me he'll find out where Gary is being moved to. He tells me and I leave. It was interesting to see the guards let down their own guards once they heard what happened. It was almost as if they wanted to help me. Sitting in the waiting area, I heard the sergeant say to the other officers, "This guy out there has traveled from California to see Gary Black, and the moment he walks in the front door, Gary is walking out the back door. I have never seen anything like this before." He gave me Gary's keys to his apartment and we left.

His apartment was small, cluttered with furniture he had found on the street. The smell was musty and there was moldy bread on the table. He had given me a 6 page long letter detailing what he wanted me to do, so Nate and I meticulously got to work. I talked to landlord and settled everything with him. He was nice old man who was concerned with Gary predicament, but didn't want Gary to return. After an hour, we were done and went back to Boston.

I went to see Gary a few days later at the prison the sergeant told me about. When I got there they again informed me he was not there but at a different jail in downtown Boston. I would have to wait for the weekend to pass before seeing him.

We left for Maine early Friday the seventeenth of July. This place was unlike any other I had been to. A small quaint beach cottage on the Atlantic coast. The cottage was one of the first structures in the area so it has the best location, right on the only small and private beach in the area. It was cloudy when we got there.







I spent time with people who didn't know me. Beautiful people. We drank, we joked, we played lawn games, and we smoked. Friends of friends of friends. Now my good friends.





Sunday, I went out on a canoe(appropriately named the Big Banana)with one of my new friends, Michael. Our goal was to reach an island out in the distance. You can see it in the above picture. The waves started up as we got closer, and when we were almost there the Big Banana capsized and we found ourselves in the cold waters of the Atlantic. I didn't have a life preserver on but Michael did. We decided to leave the Big Banana and swim with the current back to the nearest island a half a mile away. We reached the island just as a dingy sped by looking for us. He came to the island and another boat picked up the Big Banana and our oars and took them back to shore. Michael and I got a ride back on the dingy to the station. The old man looked as if he had dusted off his faded fire resue t-shirt as soon as he got the call. He was nice and insisted that we come back with him to the station on the shore and "get checked out". When we arrive there are about fifteen fire/rescue workers and an ambulance waiting for us. Not to mention all the tourists eating their hotdogs. So now thats two times I've been in an ambulance in the last month. I guess that's what happens when you go extreme. I did get a souvenir blanket out of the ordeal.

I'm back in Boston now and planning on leaving soon to go visit my good friend Shilo in Columbus Ohio. Boston is a nice city though. I took these pictures at the top of the Prudential Building, the tallest building in the city.