It was good to see my old comrade A Iwasa, in Tucson. We went to the Hare Krishna temple and had delicious lunch at Govinda’s. Ming and I were there before, years ago. But all those Govinda’s-es can blend together in my head, a bit.
Long ago, A Iwasa and Ming and I would go to an ISKCON place in the Bay Area, often on a Sunday evening, and would do the kirtan. It was comforting. Those were some good days.
A Iwasa once told me comrades meant more to him than friends, which blew my mind. I’ve learned a lot over the years, how different people do relationship, what can motivate someone to connect, how people can want totally different things, from relationship.
I show up with curiosity and meet people where they’re at, as I can. That can get me in trouble sometimes, but it’s all a learning adventure.
I would say A Iwasa puts the rad in comrade. Here’s a link to his new zine, if you would like to learn about this music.
Clevo Style: How Decades of Cleveland Punk and Hardcore Shaped the World
playground
Ming and I had fun exploring this playground in Tucson. Seemed more creative than most!
I was excited by the hexagon steps.
Ming was a good sport as always, doing fun stuff and letting me photograph him.
Swing Ming was adorable. I said I should send this pic to his mom.
I loved this vulva-shaped orange climbing structure! Yes! My favorite color and shape.
This was supposed to be spinny, but it was broken or needed oil realy bad or a new bearing or something. And Ming was too tall anyway, but I advised him to stick his head in it and pretend he was getting a new hairdo.
I didn’t know why I liked this purple board so much with shapes in it. Then Ming told me it’s peg board. Yes, I love peg board.
Ming couldn’t play this instrument so well. He does so many other things so well, I think I will still like him!
I asked what the orange things were, on the tops of these poles. Ming said, “If you’re parachuting, and you land on this playground, they’re to protect you!”
I said, “Yeah, you think way too much about parachuting.”
Then we found an abandoned hackysack, and I picked it up from the sand. We played catch for a while.
“Are you throwing it gently because you’re afraid of hitting me in the breast?” I asked.
“No,” he said. That’s just how he throws.
I tried it his way. We discussed handedness, whether this counted as exercise, how a hackysack is easy to catch compared to something more solid.
Conclusion: we are good at having fun. Ming is a rad comrade also.
