"Go where you're treated best."
The Nomad Capitalist
So, we crossed the Rubicon. The future is finally behind us. Almost a year and a half back in the US, the entire purpose of which was to say goodbye, or so it appears from the present moment. A place with which I am uniquely unfamiliar. I used to use drugs to bring me back to the present, but obviously that's a waste of time at best. Now, in this unfamiliar place, this completely foreign moment, I find that I am more relaxed. The "what are you doing here?" looks are friendlier down here than they are in the US. It's not enjoyable, but it doesn't bother me either. In the States, the tendency to patronize me is egregiously offensive. The implication is that my work is worthless, among other tired, worn-out topics. Down here, being out of place actually makes sense. What are you doing here, gringo?
Leaving. I am leaving. And trying on some bunny ears.
What else?
If you know me, or have ever known me, you know that I need to relax more than everyone you've ever known, combined. We're there. I mean, we're here. I'm not going to get into it in detail. What I am going to do, is forget to film my conversation with the owner of the hotel and a couple of her friends, to see if I can get a reduced weekly rate. Since there's no reason to go anywhere and no way (at the moment) to get there... since we're out of money, and this place is genuinely relaxing,
Why not stay somewhere longer than one night? The haunted mountains in SW Colorado were depressing. The drive away from the future, through the past, and into the present from Silverton to San Diego was genuinely exhausting. Crossing the border was fun, like getting out of school early, but I can't afford to spend upwards of $20/night just to park. Which was the case in Tijuana. God inspired the owner of this hotel in the Baja to charge me a weekly rate of $500 pesos per night, about $30 USD, down from $43. It's generous.
I love this place.
Today was all about not leaving, and oh what a luxury it is. Tomorrow, I'm going to go to the beach, leaving Louie in the secure, temperate hotel room, and not worry about him melting. Which is why I never do anything, because I have to make sure the van isn't hot. But I need to pay for 4 more nights at this hotel. I cleaned my bank account out, paying for the first 3.
3 nights. It feels like an eternity. An eternity of now. Now, I am here. Right now. Not waiting for tomorrow, not shaking my head over yesterday. But writing in a clean bed in a friendly town in a beautiful place. Not leaving. For 3 whole days.
It's like an early birthday present.
I have just applied a 75% discount to my entire discography on Bandcamp, bringing the total down to $56.75. For everything I have ever recorded, pretty much. It has been sitting in the $140 range for several months, which was already a great deal, but the need to pay this hotel will persist, and I am willing to offer my entire discography at Rubicon bunny ear prices, so I can get a couple sales. 3 would suffice. One for every day we get to stay, so far. If I can pay for 4 more days beyond that, we'll be in the clear.
Feel free to peruse the discography at your leisure. Feel free to take advantage of this amazing deal, and help us stay rooted in the eternity of now, like the dog at the taqueria. The dog at the taqueria is not mired in the quicksand of tomorrow. He isn't walking barefoot over the broken, bloody glass of the past. And, with God's help, neither are we.
Thank you in advance, and God bless.
Onward,
N
Zelle: [email protected]
