The tree's along the california coast line are fucking gorgeous. Like nothing I've ever seen before. Majestic, gargantuan, and sometimes ominous. I fucking love those tree's. I'm not there right now, but I sure wish I was. 

Sometimes I just want to get up and get away. From the rat race. It can drag you down into a ditch and, as it's driving away throw it's damn McDonald's bag O trash out the window and right on top of your stumbling out of the ditch ass.

I think I get this feeling about once every four to six months. To just grab the essentials, the Family (Wife, Son, Dog, Other Dog), and drive. Into the wilderness. Whichever direction/destination it may be. Lake. Mountain. Forrest. Beach. Desert. Any one (or all) will do the trick. Just get the holy hell out of the city, suburb, or town you're currently occupying and find some solitude. I don't know why it hits me, but it does.

I have actually had this particular urge for a while now. Since before RQ was introduced to the world. I think I went out on my last trip this past June. And since before the monkey was even close to being born I was thinking about his first camping trip. It was probably one of the earliest thoughts pertaining to fatherhood that I had. Maybe that's weird, or fucked up or something. Maybe I should have been thinking about actually being a father and what what that meant. Or maybe I should have been thinking about how to better provide for the kid, so he can lead a comfortable life. Or maybe I should have been signing him up for preschool even though he was still the size of a grapefruit. I don't effing know. I spent more time thinking about how fucking awesome it was going to be to have a little kid in tow. Someone that can always remind you to lighten your shit up and relax. Have fun. Be a fucking kid for christ's sake.

I read a statistic not too long ago about the ratio of times a child laughs in a day compared to an adult and, while I don't recall exactly what that percentage was, for the sake of this point lets say it was eight hundred and seventy four thousand to one (I'm pretty sure that's in the right ballpark), clearly being a little kid is where it's at. Not a worry in the world (at least not a valid one). I mean maybe they are worried about whether Tammy or Timmy are going to beat them at some sort of something at school. Or be mean to them. I don't really know, what do kids do to each other these days? But you get the point, Kids are living a far more raucous and fun life than a lot of adults can even recall. And it's (in my not so humble opinion) the rat that is bread into us. At least in America. And 20 other countries. That is causing this lack of childlike behavior.

So now comes the point in time where I actually need to figure out something to do. Outside. With beautiful tree's around. And dirt or sand to sleep on. And my Family to enjoy it with. Before I go crazy. I'm thinking the beach. Somewhere around here, on the lost coast. I think that ought to satisfy my craving.

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