THE EPIC

Last night I ate a tarantula, inhaled a ballon full of Laughing Gas, and saw a woman shoot darts from her pussy. 

WELCOME TO THAILAND.

But - before we get into that - several days prior, Kevin and I were barreling up the West Coast in a brand new black-as-sin Toyota Highlander, listening to Lana Del Ray, max volume, with the air conditioning cranked and blasting. We were tired, hungry, and falling asleep at the wheel - joined in our journey by an Israeli hitchhiker named Ombre.

There is a great deal I have failed to chronicle regarding the past few weeks and I find myself once more making excuses, apologizing. 

My Father, Kevin, and I were quite a unique team, traveling over the course of a week in the North from Paihia to Whangarei to Rotorua, Coromandel, and eventually Auckland Airport for my Father's flight home. Imagine the three of us - wandering the streets, entering the butcher shop - a memorable sight, I am sure. Sadly I have no pictures.

We've done so much!

We joined forces with Julia and a sweetheart named Laura and together drove to the ancient Kauri Tree forests. Later, Kevin and I explored an unguided cave system along with the two Danish girls we'd met in Paihia. We traveled to Rotorua and did a tour of Hobbiton with Julia while my Father immersed himself in local Maori culture and acquired a generous share of precious Greenstone. We climbed Monganui and barbecued and spent rainy days in Jacuzzis; we met Tom, a distinctive Englishman traveling the Islands by bike; rode buses, rented cars, hoped on planes. We spent a miserable night battling airport security for sleep in Christchurch; met three wonderful girls in Queenstown - hiked mountains, swam in lakes, explored the gardens by night. We jumped 15,000 from an airplane and slept in the graveyard. 

Damn!

And to think - I haven't posted about any of this yet! You're totally in the dark. You don't even know.  

Forced by circumstance I was dumped at an lonely intersection and had to hitch-hike a couple hundred miles to Picton. I had to board a fully-booked Ferry using the nothing but a crooked smile and the powers of seduction, three long hours crossing the sea.

I've been labeled a "Starbucks  Lurker" - which is strangely accurate.

I was up till 4:00 am, homeless in Wellington, and met again with Cecile. Kevin arrived a day later and we ate African food, drank drinks with Simon (met a month prior with my Father) and a tough-cookie Dutch doozie named Valerie.

The world spun on its axis, accelerated by sleeplessness and jazz as I cruised too-fast round corners long through the night toward Auckland, arriving at 5:00 am in time to catch my much dreaded 14 hour flight to Bangkok.

Again - you don't even know. This is a frigging summery. I'm in Thailand now, hammering this out for you, and I'm moving too fast to record it all in detail. All the stories left behind! All the details! Like the Twilight Zone I passed through when searching for Julia alongside the lake on Valentine's Day. Or that time Kevin almost died. Or when, surprisingly, he didn't. What about the BAMF Unicorn and countless impressions? Franzi with her blue-blue frightening but gorgeous eyes? Can't forget Kristjan. Or lovely Helen who smiled despite her rain clouds and workload. How about running into Martang again, and a night of standing sober amid the noise? Those girls' faces when we were rejected from the bar because of our invalid documents; watching as they passed through, leaving us alone in the street. And Thea - my saving grace.

The best I can do are some memos. Again. Take, eat, these are my notes - and don't worry, we'll get back to that Dart Show later on...

-

"Kevin, not all men with fat stomachs are Wayne."

Kevin and I stood outside the I-Site with our arms crossed. The sun climbs the Islands, sprinkling the ocean with gold fleck at our back. We're waiting for WAYNE. Wayne is delivering our vehicle. We've rented a car for the day so as to visit Tane Mahuta - God of the Forest. 

Wayne arrives and hands us out key. We then gathered our girls - Julia and Laura - and barreled forward, Kevin driving for the first time on the left, cool and collected, with my Father situated comfortably in the passenger seat. I had it bad, squeezed between two gorgeous girls in the back, cramped against their legs and arms and breasts, smooth skins, sweating against each other, bodies hot with closeness.

What a drag! It was positively MISERABLE. Ha.

Three days later:

"We should just wander the streets and die."

- Kevin 

But before we get to that - the five of us spent a pleasant day lost, driving about motion sick, finally reaching the sacred forest and trees the size of girthy gods - frighteningly massive, reminiscent of ancient Cthulhu and all the magical places you read about in Fairy tales. It was a great day. To summarize the finite details would be an impossible feat - the spectacles were wondrous but the company was on another level.

We ate food together and Julia and I went for a walk along the beach till 3:30 am. She sometimes has nightmares about Hotel California.

-

Obsession is rarely complimentary. Sudden, ineffable. I met her on a boat where she graced the rails, grinning. Stunning. Sun-hat. Dressed in blue the color of the Sea. Jean shorts, sandals. Smooth brown legs. She had these sharp cute little creases around her lips that accented her smile and her eyes - eyes like razors, a deadly shade of blue tourmaline, glowing with the radiance of heated steel.  

Her eyes pulled me in and I said, hello. 

We sat together with the wind in our hair as the boat lurched forward; the water flashing and frothing, rippling bright blue.

We spoke little - the engine roaring, drowning voices - but that was okay, her presence was enough - I was compelled even in silence. 

Her name is Franzi and I haven't been able to shake the ghost of her since we met. Twenty minutes, the wind in our hair - her's is a rush of bobbed golden curls - and that was it. Haven't seen her since.

Who was she?

-

We'd been driving for God knows how long and my legs were numb and Kevin was sick and my Father dozed uncomfortably against the window. The two girls in the front seat squinted at the road and rubbed their necks. The road reached through the trees, scattering, dispersed over hills like the fingers of a giant hand gripping the virgin Earth. 

-

We're in a cave. 

All is darkness and sound. 

Wading chest deep through streams and still pools, eels glittering beneath the surface.

I dragged myself through the narrow opening and regained my feet, ankle deep in mud. The others were somewhere behind me struggling through the dark on their bellies. I adjusted my headlamp, looking around the cavern and found no openings - no exit, no escape. Kevin and Mathilda and Emma were moving closer, I could see their lights bobbing in the dim passage. This could be bad.

We'd come down here unknowingly, unaware of the magnitude of our undertaking - the cave is a sprawling network of passages and subterranean rivers, a labyrinthine metropolis hidden deep within the Earth like a plexus of dark cold organs. Glow worms cling to the ceilings, stalactites drip and glitter.

I'm bleeding in a few places, my naked chest smeared with mud. Mathilda reaches the end of the tunnel and peers through the opening at me, "Does it go on? I can't turn around." I drop to my knees in the water and find a way out. Lucky. Now everyone else just has to fit through the hole. Emma shoves at Mathilda from behind, Kevin is a distant echo. 

I guide Mathilda through the opening and half-way through she gets stuck - starts to panic. Can't move, can't breath. Her face contorts into a mask of terror and her whimpers echo down the chamber like the frightened chatter of bats, squeezing through the Earth's stoney womb.

This could be bad. 

Very, very bad.

-

There always seems to be that odd looking blond girl dressed in all black with a nose ring. She has bad posture, walks with lowered eyes and short determined steps, and is usually wearing a day-pack and tennis shoes.

-

Me, alone. Walking beneath street lamps at night, passing through golden syrup; the moon reflected in the lake's waxy ripples.

The most awe inspiring thing I've seen

Is a tree at night

Swathed in shadow

While listening to John Coltane

-

Kevin closed the back-hatch and climbed behind the wheel. I shouldered my pack and waved goodbye. Ombre watched me through the tinted glass, his beard a sledgehammer of immaculate trimmed perfection. They drove down the road and disappeared. I felt like I was in OZ; fields everywhere, the hot asphalt stretching endlessly beneath the ruthless sun.

I found an apricot tree alongside the road and extended my thumb to the passing traffic.

-

I'm on drugs - The Epic, Kamasi Washington's brilliant three hour debut. It's a jazz record of the highest caliber. Should've won more than nominations at this year's Grammys. Bullshit that it didn't. 

I'll be seeing Kamasi LIVE in a month, in Byron. But right now I'm racing through the dark around hairpin turns at a steady deadly speed, on my way to Auckland. The drive is so intense I'm leaned forward, chest pressed practically to the wheel, eyes glued to the road. It's something like midnight and I've got a long way to go. I'm not tired through, grinning, gunning - high on good jazz - speeding down canyons and through moonlit fields.

-

I can see Wellington - an earthly constellation, wavering in the distant fog; we're approaching now, the engines churning deep beneath the seats, hauling us through the ocean, closing the divid, closer, ever closer...