Newport to Florence

Had another day on the beach and met cousin Mark at Uptown Bar for a few beers. We shared a few memories about childhood years in Cheyenne. 
Catching prairie dogs, digging forts, roller skating in the basement. A sparse-stimuli environment but we didn’t know any better. We had fun with very little. Sticks, shovels, rocks, Hot Wheels, bikes, skateboards, and Lincoln Logs.
Won $200 on the video game and gave cousin half. He was pleased.
Change of plans. Cancelled Honeyman reservation and spent two days in Florence.
On my way down the coast on 101 to Florence, I stopped into a cluster of colorful shops at Seal Rock, north of Driftwood Beach.
There is a wood carver named Brian McEneny who has a wonderful gallery featuring his bigger than life woodcarvings. Dozens of nature themed sculptures and a gallery of smaller works too. He was working on a piece when I wandered in. He stopped to talk and we must have rapped for half an hour. His son is an illustrator and muralist. I happen to stop in Waldport and saw his colorful mural to honor local tribe. Made my way down to Florence with dozen or more stops along the way. So many stunningly beautiful viewpoints along Hwy 101. 
Met a woman who lives in her fab RoadTrek van, her name is Dorothy. A philosopher. We had a great conversation in the parking lot. I was walking by and asked her how she liked her Roadtrek van. She’s been living in it for 6 years! She’s smart, self confident, an independent woman. Her van is fine construction. Lots of storage. A bit small for me and dogs. Dorothy vented about the monster pig motor homes. They are contributing to our species’ end. She’s personalized her low carbon foot van with prayer flags, bling, and gifted items from friends; objects which held great meaning for her. A shell, a string of beads, a dashboard Buddha. After hearing all about her van she mentioned she was on a quest to find her tribe. That thought rang a bell for me.
I have not fit in anywhere in my life. Maybe there’s a tribe for me. Then again,
maybe I’m a loner and my tribe is loners. Maybe I’m trying too hard to find a place to fit in. Why would I expect to fit in anywhere now when I haven’t fit in anywhere for 59 years? Am I feeling a need for a tribe out of fear of final chapters alone? More questions than answers. Right David?
Something she said to make me laugh: Why are men so mad for boobs? 
“Life is lived on the skinny branches” said Dorothy. So many are following the herd, and missing the real experience which occurs off the grid. Outside the norm. There is a lack of critical thinking. Dumbing down of America. I sadly agree with her on that. I consider my own quest to find meaning. What happened to my own critical thinking? I’ll tell you,
with so many opinions (everyone has one) clamoring for attention, it’s easy to throw ones hands into the air and say “who knows what is true?”
I asked her if I could post this in my blog and she nodded and smiled.

(Open Letter from Al Gore)

Dear Alien Visitors:
At one time the planet Earth had a bustling network of cities inhabited 
by human beings. They spoke different languages and were not able to 
make wise choices to project their species into the future and therefore 
have gone extinct. Please make yourself at home and enjoy all the 
wonderful features of Earth as Earthlings did for thousands of years.
Sorry for the radiation levels and hopefully other toxins have subsided 
by now. Perhaps the toxins are perfect for your species to flourish. 
In that case, maybe humans were a stepping stone species in the grand 
scheme.  Please consider creating a museum devoted to displaying  
artifacts of human civilization. I wouldn’t mind if you called it:
AL GORE MUSEUM OF HUMAN BEINGS
Best Regards,
Al Gore
Earthling