No Coast

Persisting in



And motion power


I am honored to have Jean-Paul Reddit as a special guest writer this week on my blog. Jean-Paul is a shower ring salesman who travels the country by road and road only.

There is the west and east coast. My paradise is No Coast. I left Hannibal, MO glad to be on the road.  I was headed home to Wisconsin for a short period of time to visit family and friends. Then onward I would go to the nine identical towns of the southern road.  An abundant amount of shower curtain ring sales awaited me in the southern region. As soon as I crossed the Wisconsin state line I felt the comfort and relief of being home.

As I passed through time and space, swollen versions of gray thoughts crossed my mind. I screamed excitedly in the car, “ I witnessed a shift in the culture!”

“The world is shifting towards a reflection of Las Vegas!”

It was an unwanted epiphany looming towards what is and what is becoming.

“Or will it be a reflection of the vivid rolling green paradise of Wisconsin?”

The treasures of Wisconsin’s nature are sustained by the mystics, dreamers, werewolves, and trolls of the world. The treasures of Las Vegas are of another alien being called Greenfar.

I sat in a cafe in Madison with my friend Mutiny Solar. Over-ambitious to get there I parked fifteen blocks away. I was too excited to wait for parking I knew was already there.  We sat deep in swells of ocean conversations hesitant to leave.

I asked,

“Would time exist without love?

Is love a concept derived from labels of measurement? What is the severity of pain and love over time? Where do these correlations come into play in real time?”

Questions and questions only leading to questions of love.

The conversation dove deeply, exploring a discussion of feeling in time.

“Have you ever had the feeling where you would step out in front of a bus or a train?” Mutiny asked.

Most people have. This feeling is labeled as the “call of the void.”

L’appel du void.

Would love fall into the void?

We discussed my transient salesperson life and how I have disappointed those around me. Expectations are hard to follow when all you have is the moment and a sale of plastic rings.

“Was I being authentic?” Mutiny asked in an offering of thought and condolence.

Mutiny and I walked down the streets to his house, slow raindrops dropping onto our faces, cold and slightly damp.  I did not mind, I never wanted this conversation to end.

We walked by a gas station. Out front, the sign said, “ Don’t eat blocks of cheese, make America Grate Again.”

“Every week a man that lives next door to the gas station changes the sign” Mutiny said.

When we reached his house I was given a full tour, I had never been there before. Mutiny holds a treasure trove of peanuts and separatory funnels in his two bedroom house.

I wanted to understand how to drill through tempered glass.

Mutiny explained, “When drilling tempered glass you should put an inch of clay around the drill hole and moisten it periodically while drilling. “

To understand the beauty of materials=energy=understanding every-energy.

I asked him to walk me back to my car, Mutiny enthusiastically agreed to, even in the non-conformist weather at bay.

When we reached my car we said goodbye after a double embrace.

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