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Island Story : You Bet Your Bippy !!

Joe & I decided to go to Port Townsend, Wa. on the Olympic peninsula for a day of day trippin’ friggin kicks. Port Townsend is an old-timey

steam punk antique type towne that is conducive to the unhurried dawdle. Laid back. We had not taken any mellow yellow walks on the wild side

for ages man. We had a gas. Are you hep, cuz we hip.

We went back in time.

 We stop to lunch at a 60’s retro diner.

Real Groovy like, baby.

Coming back on the drive home, we were both feeling pretty beat and wiped out from our first walk in a long time walk. The day’s Port Townsend sight-seeing walk was really more like a lackadaisical meandering stroll. Because we had been on our feet all day, we were really jazzed to getting  to our pad to crash. Daddyo had surgery two weeks prior and was still healing up. And I currently have a disc that pinches a nerve making my hip socket joint ache. Bummer. You could say that both of us were pretty lame at the same time with compromised constitutions.

We were real gone cats. Tho, we hunky dory.

Tooling home, I decided to check emails and flipped my wig AND my lid : Big Brother said : “The ferry is now out of service for at least the next two days. Walk-on boat provided.”

Really ??

Downer. What a drag. Lay it on me why don't you.

And you can Sock it to me while you’re at it.

With hearing this unwelcome news we hang loose for the rest of the journey truckin' home, psyching ourselves up for the challenging dire shindig that soon lay ahead of us.

We parked our wheels near our island’s ferry terminal

and car hopped onto the


The putt-putt putted split across the channel and dropped us off

on the far out shores

of our island home.

Evening had already settled in.

Ok then.

Here we are.

Hang tough.

We have no choice. 

We must walk the 2.3 miles to get home.

A large chunk of this walk home is straight up a steep hill.

We can do this.


Slowly. Twogether. And grimacing. We began to walk in the now cold and wet rainfalling pitch dark dire happenin. I had just happened to grab an umbrella that just happened to be in the car, besides a flashlight,

in preparation for our long hard dreary dark drenching walk home.

The starting out embarking part in the very beginning was uncomfortable and quite rough, because we thoroughly realized and understood our fate and the arduous drudgery that lay ahead of us.  The unforseen endeavor at hand, that had to be accomplished, made us feel a foreboding dark heavy gloomy-type apprehensiveness. Like a cloud hanging over our heads.

Even tho we were not really keen to do it.

We had to do this.

We cut ourselves some slack.

We got a grip.

We had to do it.

............Dig it ?

All the odds were stacked against us :

- We were both very physically beat. Zonked.

- We had not eaten since lunch around noon and were hungry.

- We both had physical maladies that hampered and encumbered us in our mobility.

- It was cold out.

- It was pouring rain.

- And it was dark out.

A whole bunch of Ob-stack-kills right off inhibiting us at

the on your marks get set go starting gate to the way home.

It was a drag man.

All we could do was persevere.

We can do this.

..............Right on.

The umbrella was ideal. And. It was not that chilly out. We stay dry.

We walked together. We could see well enough and did not need to use the flashlight. I had remembered how earlier, before we left home for the day, contemplating wearing my slip-on shoes but at the last minute opted instead to wear my boots. A super wise decision for my future self which had no clue this walk home would be a part of our day. Nice call Old Lady. Dry feet. Neato. My hep Old Man was decked out in his heavy wool P-coat and wool felt hat with the wide brim. The rain did not get near my fab daddyo. A real stand up guy. Our choice in threads beforehand were duly noted and highly appreciated.

After a while of walking together, we silently came to the exact same unbespoken yet between us conclusion.

We both got real, and then spoke out loud to each other that the walk

seemed to get easier  and  easier  the more that we walked. 

And. True enough : once  we  got  into  it,  we  got  into  it. !!

A transformational alternate reality overcame us both together.

" Rainy Day ; Paris Streets " by Gustave Caillebotte

We scoped out our shared altered perspective and newly revised outlooks.

It felt so comforting as we slowly walk. Twogether.

Look at where we are. Here we were.

Inside a safe darkened calm tranquility.

Quiet rain tap the umbrella as our feet tap the pavement.

There was a feeling as if we were the only two people in the universe.

We were inside a twilight zone flick separate from the rest of the world.

We were inside a very surrealistic landscape.

We were completely in our own realm.

There was a feeling of “us only” about it.

We were so in the moment we were inside the moment.

A flip of the switch alternating reality from dread to joy overwhelmed us.

The walk home had transformed into an Enjoyable Enjoyment.

It had truly become Plesantly Pleasant.

We both said out loud : Ha !! Far out.

We real gone.

This is not so bad afterall.

I. Am. Like-ing it. 

An atmosphere of magic surround us.

We were surprised at our newly found out of nowhere chill rejuvenation.

My hip ache, it bothered me, yet I did not let it be a drag. I was on a misssion.  Just the two of us. Joe commented he thought the walk was really romantic. We were, as one could say, singing in the rain. Holding hands. We arrived  to our pad in the sticks quite suddenly quick like and surprised at the ease of the entire primo experience. The 2.3 mile walk seemed to pass in time like the blink of an eye. It blew our minds.

No sweat. It was truly a night to remember. So memorable, in fact, that Joe wrote a song around it.

Our lifestyle here on this isle means we are at the mercy of many ferry boat factors besides many

forces of nature factors.

As it happened, the ferry boat was out of service for ten whole days. The repair was serious and the sea trials afterwards were delayed because of high winds. Normally, we keep both cars here at the crib for pre-notified ferry breaks in service and prepare by stocking up. Because we were forced to leave our car on the mainland, it was parked over there waiting for us. Because of our various current medical conditions with doc appts, we had the use of our ride for those ten days. Like an unexpected gift given to us.

Outta sight.

A simple twist of fate.

We laughed out loud.

We persevere.

We flexible.

We laughed.

We hang loose.

It all worked out beautifully.

We tough.

We badass.

We did it.



We adaptive.

We laugh.

We rule.

We kept the faith.

It was a night to remember.

Another thought-about in-consideration type aspect

of the evening I experienced : was the fact that, the isle is drastically right before my eyes I really get it now high speed changing. That night of the walk in the rain we considered and discussed the fact, what if someone stopped to offer us a lift.  Joe said, Get inside a tightly enclosed small space with someone you don’t know ? In winter when the covid spikes are much higher ? He was dead set against it. Put the kibosh on that option completely, and as I said, as we walked along, the more we walked the better it all got. We would not have wanted a ride really, after we got into the walk.

We on a mission.

And not a mission impossible.

A mission possible.

We chose to accept it.

We tuff stuff.

No big deal. No biggy.

We only just experiencing a big Kris & Joe walking in the rain walk together.

Here’s one more thing about the island : 

There are so many new comers. Yes many cars did burn some rubber as they passed us that night as we walked home. Yes I am positive every speeding driver knew the situation that night knowing that the ferry was down. Normally in the olde days ( 24 years now I have been here ) islanders would be knocking each other over to offer help. A barrage of queries from Passers By - "Wanna ride man ??" Those were the days my friend. I thought they’d never end. Many cars sped by us as we quick-like hopped off to the shoulder without wiping out and got out of their in a big hurry way. What’s your bag man ? Nobody took the time to stop. Only noticing here. Our New Island World order. Tectonic protocol plate shift happens. Currently proposals and dialog of needing to get an on island transportation service. All is bigger. All is more. Growth. The inevitable. I get it, you dig ?

Another island shift phenomena along the same line I notice :

In the olde days, normally the waiting line of cars awaiting the ferry runs would have most drivers outside of their cars and standing in the road all socializing all yakking all congregating as they wait for the ferry. It was a common friendly meeting ground.

And. So was the one and only olde store. A common meeting ground. Whenever you go to the olde store, it was full of hip friendly faces, islanders rapping, islanders hanging out, the totally boss owner permanently there greeting all with a big smile, dudes milling about standing around intermingling.  Just plain hanging out to hang out.

Letting it all hang out. Positive vibrations. The olde store was eventually bought by some clueless out of towners who did not know the island, after the previous owner retired. The new store owners proceeded to get a liquor license, install a giant boob tube screen and played raucous and rowdy sports games on the plastic big screen non-stop. They turned it into a really way out there in the ozone square sports bar. What’s your bag ? Forget about it. Did not suit the natives. The natives were restless with that and freaked out. Quit frequenting the store and tuned out. One island dude set up a coffee stand across the street from the store to keep the island gathering flow going. Eventually the new sports bar owners sold it to a with it connected guy local after that. Later dude. The store now offers many nifty menus, jams, gigs, & good vibes. And no more big screen jock shows. Grooooovy.

I reflect upon all these specific island happenin’s because within each and every one of them lies

a common thread.

The thread is something I call  :  The Big Blend.

Not the Big Ben, but The Big Blend.

Each instance holds a transformatory element. Or the possibility of one.

And the single ingredient uniting them all is where the blend fits in.

The singular ingredient in transforming the ordinarily milktoast melba mundane into the extraordinary bubbly champagne is blend.

Mix the batch. Cream together the sugar and the butter. Whisk the eggs and the milk. Stir. Mingle. Unify. Blend. Hold hands. We. Us.

And you be betting on your sweet bippy, too.

My initial example : the long walk home dreary dread was transformed to joyful singing in the rain by the two together blend. Activating the Kris&Joe blend completely changed the walk. First time I held Joe’s hand felt like home. Now I get what the mop topped Fab Four meant singing "I Wanna Hold Your Hand. " Did not get it as a small fab fry. Because of “ the we” & "the us" blend factor, the walk was a give us a high five.

Second example : islanders and ferry folk contained inside enclosed vehicles waiting for ferry separated with all heads bent down. Staring intently into the palms of their hands, hypnotized, oblivious. Ok yes, me included ok. No mingle. No mix. No magic. No smiles. Strangers mostly. No blend. If blend happened to appear and descend upon the bros waiting in line, like in days of yore, it would create community, a hoppin Hood, brotherhood, sisterhood, and everybody’s freak flag would fly.

Third example : loud speaker big screen sports announcer’s announcements squelches and soon replaces the hum buzz and island vibes of friends greeting friends.

Square hole round peg. Round peg square whole.

The key don’t fit. No joining.

No interweaving. No whisking the eggs and milk. Oil and water. And yes, once again here is an example of absolutely no blend. When blend shows up and joins in as in those days of yore olde store and current new store we have Big Blend Collective. Uniting. Friendship conducive. All can get a groove on. Keen scene.

The sole key

the soul key

the principal ingredient

the key that turns the lock

that transforms

the blah to

the brilliant Is :


Flower Power perhaps

Power to the People possibly

Yo. To say it more flat out, Blend is another word for :


We Seen It Appear -  Live !! Showed up, escorted us when walking in the rain, it showed up and joined us in our walk.

That glue that joined our Determined Determinations.

That one single added ingredient to the recipe transforms

the blah to remarkably unforgettably sparkly

far out way out there wow man and whoa-man moments in time.


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