Portishead, Job Hunting, and Opium

I'm a Portishead fan. Beth Gibbons is fantastic. There was a lot of good music in the 1990's which never gets mentioned in fiction of that time. Cultures aren't empty, you know. Everything references everything else. I listened to a track by Ella Fitzgerald today that brought tears to my eyes, and its 65 years old. How awesome is that? I respect singers like Madeline Peyroux even more, in context, for sounding like a black french/cajun singer despite being white. She's great. In context of possibly having 40 new relatives in Paris, that's VERY cool. I have good reason to practice my French now.

I got fired yesterday. I was a bad fit there. I built that shop with my own two hands. Got things working. They said "we're all friends here" when they hired me. I tried to be their friends, and they decided they didn't like that after all, but waited 5 months to tell me. I think that's weird and it really hurt my feelings.

I'll find another job. I've already applied to some good ones. Oddly, the local businesses ran out of time waiting for the economy to get better, so there's a decent set available now we didn't have a week ago. All have benefits too, including Medical. This pleases me. I had a short interview with one of them today. Dropped off an application to another. I hope to be working again very soon. Work ethic was instilled in me as a core belief of who I am, as my identity, thanks to going to church with my mother as a child. Also big on modesty, which is why I don't show my picture here, ever. My tastes are conservative in clothing and cars. I find loud people really crass and to be shunned. Same with liars. I have mom to thank for these beliefs. It doesn't matter that I'm an Atheist and Libertarian. I still have morals.

In a completely unrelated note, did I ever mention that thanks to the medical marijuana law that stuff is growing all over the place? I went for a walk in a neighborhood in town, and spotted a suspicious tarp and found a garden of pot plants behind it. This is in town, surrounded by cottages. Its the house with all the best locks. The cops know about it, and all the other ones, but can't do a thing. There are tons of these fields. I think that if marijuana ever gets fully legal, the pot farmers are going to bankrupt because the price will crash and they'll be unable to make money at it. They can't make money growing food crops. Not enough water.

I wonder if they'll grow opium poppies instead? That has a long and sordid history. And they're illegal. Something to replace the income lost by legal marijuana. I wonder if we'll end up with junkies on the ridge instead of mellow potheads with handguns? That would be bad. Opium makes for bad violence. I think if we find OD's in Nevada City hitting the ER in Grass Valley, that will answer that question. And I'll be sure never to drive up into the San Juan Ridge. I feel extra bad for the Deputies who will be dealing with it. I should put this idea in my next novel. It sounds edgy and plausible, something that is mean enough to really happen.