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Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! I am on my mobile version of the door-to-door, going town-to-town holding readings/gatherings/discussions of my book "But What Can I Do?" This is my often neglected blog mostly about my travels since 9/11 as I engage in dialogue and actions. It is steaming with my opinions, insights, analyses toward that end of holding all life sacred, dismantling the empire and eliminating violence while creating the society we want ALL to thrive in

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Veggie oil challenges

Temps have dropped to 99 and I realize it’s almost 5pm – I’ve run my main veg oil tank almost dry so I need to fill it up again.

I open the back of the truck, undo the lid to the barrel I’ll be pumping from, open the right valve, and hit the pump switch.

The pump groans for half a second and dies. I flick it again, tap the pump, check the battery connections – nothing. Try again.

Then I remember the fuse in the wire just above the battery connection. It is blown. I get another fuse from inside the truck, replace the blown fuse, and flip the switch.

The pump groans again and dies.

I call my genius diva sistah Shazam and in her methodical, studious way, listens to the symptoms, asks questions, and then tells me it sounds like something else is drawing from the battery at the same time, causing the short.

Shazam tells me to turn everything off inside the camper that might be drawing from the battery and try again. This time, I have to replace the fuse with a 25 as I’m outta tens. And it works!

I pump the barrel dry and add a couple gallons from the middle tank, topping off the main tank. I’ll be ready to roll when the sun dips down!

Real Men billboard

I’m getting a better look at this “real men” billboard now as I head toward the western part of Nebraska and fewer and fewer folks.

I’m thinking these are anti-womyn’s rights billboards, even tho the message is almost right-on.

This real man billboard sweetly states: “Real men love babies”!

A blond white guy w/a 2 day beard growth (maybe indicating he’s been there for 2 days of labor??? Or maybe it’s the style), hunches over his cupped hands holding, inches from his smiling blue eyes, a tiny perfect white newborn infant baby girl – that we know is being assigned a female gender as she has a a bright pink bow strapped around her hairless head. Her eyes are looking away from him and towards the highway.

But underneath all that heart-wrenching cheap emotional fantasy is the large words: “The heartbeat begins at 18 days” – as if this means something.

Way too hot to drive

I was hoping the morning’s chill would last at least until mid-morning but it is hot as hell now. I’ve traversed down the beautiful mountains into the great salt lake basin, the temperature rising with each mile – and the air pollution rivaling the los angeles basin stinging my eyes and drying out my throat.

I’ve been largely ignored driving along with the rush hour traffic  - as if SLCers’ had blinders on, except for the occasional pale “fuck you” finger popping up.

I notice the engine temp needle starting to climb past the midpoint of the gauge and I drop my speed down to 45. The needle edges back down to almost normal. I’ll have to stop at the next rest stop and wait for the sun to go down – which means I’ll miss a day of driving. I’ve been spoiled by the cooler weather.

I only hope the asshole trucker hauling the motorcycles – and any of that ilk – is long gone and I’ll be able to rest in peace – or in at least having reasonable conversations!