Journal entry, 7/10, Big Sur

7/10/1998  Big Sur was fabulous, it restored some sense of play, freedom and adventure. Since the accident we’ve had our noses pressed hard against the dredge wheel, reality pressing in from all sides. Other than a jaunt to Nicasio to see my family, or the rare evening among friends, we haven’t really done much of anything. No mini vacations etc.

We were planning to go to the Guinness Fleadh at Spartan Stadium in San Jose and it was so expensive the tickets were $42.50 each plus $10 for parking with no in and out privileges, no food no drink etc. We got pissed off and drove down the coast. We hung out at Asilomar, the scene of the crime, and I snagged a room on the at the Bide a Wee motel for $59. He didn’t want to stay at first and I ignored him. We played table tennis in the Asilomar Lodge  and visited the scene of the crime where he collapsed from the ulcer. Yes it was isolated, and yes it was at night, and yes, he really could have died there.