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Volume 20 Issue 36 April 28, 2014
For 20 years The Synthesis’ goal has remained to provide a forum for entertainment, music, humor, community awareness, opinions, and change.
Columns
This Week...
Centerfolds
Letter From the Editor
Ever wonder what’s up inside that mysterious building on the edge of town, but those giant eyes on the sign creep you out so bad you’re scared to go in? This is your lucky day, my friend, because Emiliano is taking Exotic Adventures in Smalltown, USA to the strip club. It’s about to get real.
Publisher/Managing Editor
by Amy Olson
amy@synthesis.net
PAGE 4
Creative Director
Immaculate Infection
Tanner Ulsh graphics@synthesis.net
by Bob Howard
Madbob@madbob.com
PAGE 5
Productivity Wasted by Eli Schwartz
PAGE 6
PAGE 7
Supertime!
by Logan Kruidenier
PAGE 16
Howl
Jessica Sid Vincent Latham
Nerd
Dain Sandoval dain@synthesis.net
howlmovesmountains.tumblr.com
PAGE 17
Old Crock
Accounting Ben Kirby
Director of Operations Karen Potter
Owner
by Jaime O'Neill jaimeandkarenoneill@gmail.com
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Kozmik Debris by Koz McKev
PAGE 10
Arielle Mullen, Bob Howard, Howl, Jaime O’Neill, Koz McKev, Tommy Diestel, Jayme Washburn, Eli Schwartz, Mona Treme, Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff, Jon Williams
Photography
logankruidenier.tumblr.com
kozmckev@sunset.net
Designers
Colin Leiker, Mike Valdez graphics@synthesis.net
Contributing Writers
zooey@synthesis.net
It’s time to wax that mustache and grease those gears—the spring edition of Chico’s favorite old-timey cycling event is coming up this weekend. Find out what to wear when and where, with a little bit of why and how thrown in for good measure.
Alex Light Alex@synthesis.net SynthesisWeekly.com/submit-yourevent/
Joey Murphy, Jennifer Foti
by Zooey Mae
Seersucker Madness
Entertainment Editor
Deliveries
Comical Ruminations
PAGE 8
Amy Olson amy@synthesis.net
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Bill Fishkin bill@synthesis.net The Synthesis is both owned and published by Apartment 8 Productions. All things published in these pages are the property of Apartment 8 Productions and may not be reproduced, copied or used in any other way, shape or form without the written consent of Apartment 8 Productions. One copy (maybe two) of the Synthesis is available free to residents in Butte, Tehama and Shasta counties. Anyone caught removing papers will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. All opinions expressed throughout the Synthesis are those of the author and are not necessarily the same opinions as Apartment 8 Productions and the Synthesis. The Synthesis welcomes, wants, and will even desperately beg for letters because we care what you think. We can be reached via snail mail at the Synthesis, 210 W. 6th St., Chico, California, 95928. Email letters@ synthesis.net. Please sign all of your letters with your real name, address and preferably a phone number. We may also edit your submission for content and space.
210 West 6th Street Chico Ca 95928 530.899.7708 editorial@synthesis.net
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PET OF THE WEEK
Sick and Tired
Meowze r This cat is one cool dude, the king, the one true cat! He’s independent, charming and has style. He enjoys cuddling with his human friends, following them about their business and occasionally exploring the great outdoors, purring all the while. Meowzer was given to us by his owner after she lost her job and could no longer afford to care for him, and he really misses having special humans to love.
2579 Fair Street Chico, CA 95928 (530) 343-7917 • buttehumane.org
Now Hear This SYNTHESIS WEEKLY PLAYLIST Himanshu - “Kate Boosh”
Tanner
Himanshu - “Kate Boosh”
Colin
Charles Murdoch - “Dekire”
Mike
Juvenile - “Slow Motion”
Tara
Beyonce - ‘Partition”
Brandon
Blind Melon - “No Rain”
Andrea
Major Lazer - “Aerosol Can”
Amy
The sound of my life slowly collapsing around me.
Howl 4
Madonna - “Hung Up”
SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 28 2014
METAPHORS ABOUT ILLNESS, AND THE STATE OF EMOTIONAL POLITICS Remember a few months ago when I was all excited that I could finally get the flu? Well, the other day I woke up feeling like I got punched in the face by a snot-monster, and it turns out that having an Entertainment Editor doesn’t actually mean getting sick is fun. There’s still work to be done, but I’m exhausted, and my throat hurts too much to boss people around. I don’t even know if I am sick, or if these are just seriously awful allergies. The difference? Somehow I feel more justified complaining if I’m sick than I do if it’s an allergic reaction. It’s silly, but there’s a sort of heroic victim-status I associate with fighting off an invading virus—like my immune system is the Wolverines from Red Dawn, battling the invading Soviet forces with mucous and cold sweats. Allergies, on the other hand, are just my body overreacting to bad info. It’s more like the people protesting for that cattle rancher in Nevada who refused to pay for permits to keep his herd on federal land, resulting in an armed standoff with Bureau of Land Management employees. Any minute it’s going to come out that my histamine receptors are just self-serving, bigoted blowhards, and I’ll have to distance myself from all my previous sneezing. Anyway, I’ll stop torturing that metaphor. The point is, I feel like garbage and I’m a big whiner. Also, I’m a little obsessed with the Cliven Bundy saga and I’m looking for a way to bring it up. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, here’s the jist: This guy in Nevada comes from several generations of cattle ranchers. His herd is too big for the land he owns, so he, like many other neighboring ranchers, needs to use public land for them to graze. The land
is a federally protected wildlife area, and is managed by the BLM to maintain some kind of balance between subsidized commerce and the environment. The difference between Cliven Bundy and the other ranchers is that for the past 20 years he’s refused to pay for the use-permits to be there, citing some ideological state’s land rights platform that isn’t based in the law. He lost that dispute in court, but managed to rally every anti-government militia member in the region to pull out their guns and threaten the federal employees trying to round up his cattle. He became some kind of conservative folk hero, but once he had a platform to speak he made a bunch of ridiculous statements about how “negroes” were better off as slaves, and now a lot of people are backing away slowly. The whole thing is clown shoes. People are all fired up about it, willing to go to the verge of revolution over the idea that public land should be free for this guy’s personal profit—resource management be damned right along with personal responsibility. They seem to think he has a right to do whatever he wants because his family has been around for a long time, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s anti-Fed and it’s tax season. Obviously there’s an element of people looking for any rallying point to express their frustrations with a system they don’t like, but the more I read about it, the more this one seems like an odd choice.
Letter From the Editor by Amy Olson
amy@synthesis.net
Circle of Trees WE PLANT FRUITS AND VEGETABLES TO FEED OUR BODIES; WE PLANT TREES TO NOURISH OUR SOULS.
Trish and I recently planted a circle of thirteen fairly large evergreen trees. They are a variety of Alaskan Cedars called “Jubilee.” The trees are tall and limber, and they shimmy and dance when the wind blows. There is no getting around the fact that digging holes is plain hard work, but the saving grace is that our soil here is high quality loam with very few rocks, and right now, in the spring time, it is loose enough that you can virtually pull it out by the shovel-full. In the summer, once the moisture has baked out of it, digging will become considerably more difficult. The two black cats, Stiv and Strange, seem to enjoy the circle the most. They like to take turns hiding behind one of the trees, and then the hiding cat will jump out to startle the other and initiate a chase that usually ends with the pursued up a nearby oak tree. The Cedars are too thick with branches and foliage to climb. The circle is a good place to sit and think, or in Trish’s case, to dream. This whole property broadens my mind when I let it—when I don’t allow the grass and weeds, and the endless and growing list of things that “need to be done,” to choke out my long-term thinking, and turn it short and circular. Signs Shifting This morning I put on a pair of old khaki Dickeys that I haven’t worn in a while and found a tight wad of dollar bills balled up in the rear right pocket. Three dollars through the wash, crisp and clean. The forecast called for a chance of rain today, but the skies are blue and cloudless, though a moderate breeze could indicate change in the future. Anyway, for the sake of positive thinking I’m going to take these small signs as a portent
...maybe this awful spring is breaking down into something more manageable... of a shift in the energy patterns—maybe this awful spring is breaking down into something more manageable. If it’s not a truce, maybe at least Mother Nature and the hands of fate could agree to a temporary cease fire. I used to put a lot more stock in signs. I used to follow ravens and listen to the whisper of the winds through the tree tops. I still listen to the sounds, but not what they’re saying. The older I get, the more cycles I live through, the more it seems arbitrary. Good, evil, benevolence, chaos, order, sanity, madness— temporary conditions. Maybe all that’s necessary is to keep plugging along, to keep whacking at that stone, even as the ax’s head is long dull and the shaft is starting to shiver. Nowadays I admit to not knowing much, if anything. It’s a giant puzzle and I can’t piece the damn thing together. On my best days I stop trying. We’ll keep doing our thing—planting fruits and vegetables to nourish our bodies in the short term, and planting trees to nourish our souls, and to leave something behind for those who come along after us.
Immaculate Infection by Bob Howard Madbob@madbob.com
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The Last Federation WAR IS EASY, PEACE IS HARD
CASH! CASH! CASH! We pay cash for your recyclables!! CRV ALUMINUM CANS $2.00/Pound E-WAStE! We pay 5¢ per pound for TV’s , Computers, Monitors and Laptops!! And, as a courtesy to our customers, we’ll accept all other consumer electronics, such as fax machines, printers, VHS players, etc. as a drop-off, with no payments* * Some restrictions may apply Call for more information on getting cash for other recyclable materials.
2565 S. Whitman Place, Chico (Corner of East Park Avenue and S. Whitman Place) 343-5500
Strategy games have always been intimidating because of their overwhelmingly cerebral nature, and some people even avoid them on the ground of repetition. “How much can the idea change,” a cynic might ask, “when the gameplay is always a race to outpace and outmaneuver your opponent?” Some look at the idea of the strategy game, a game inherently based upon the ideas of imperialism, cold efficiency, and manipulation, as the same game played over and over: conquest by any means. Some cite the superiority of grand, turn-based strategy games that allow for peaceful alternative victories like the prestigious Civilization series as a break in the giant imperialism chain, but some others just call that conquest by another name. The Last Federation takes a different approach. In this game you are not an empire, nor even the head of one. You are the sole surviving remnant of a powerful and technologically advanced alien species who has dedicated the rest of their life to interstellar peace. Rather than being one giant, yet equally powerful empire, you are one super-advanced individual. Rather than having dreams of conquest, your dream is unification. Unfortunately enough, as every player will learn, it’s easier to convince two species to kill one another than it is to make them cooperate. The goal of the game overall is to unite all eight planets of the solar system, each with their own extremely different sapient species, into a new solar federation in which they will live in peace and cooperate with one another. That might not be so hard for the good natured, fluffy Peltians who just want to be loved, but what about the outrageously violent, power-obsessed Burlust? How can you play matchmaker between the taciturn, isolationist Boarine and the hard-to-please, honor bound meritocracy of the Skylaxian Senate? How can you reconcile the Andor’s utopian hatred of violence with the unthinking Thoraxian war machine? More than likely, you won’t, and war will break out. And if genocide wrecks the system, it’s not game over. In fact,
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SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 28 2014
it’s not game over until the player dies. If the solar system is united in peace only because there’s only one species left, then so be it. Of course, as many gamers know, the most difficult victory is the most rewarding, and the coveted diverse and unified eight-point alliance is not easy to achieve. Getting them to cooperate at all takes a lot of work and even more thinking. The player will have to lie, steal, spread rumors, fight ships, bribe, gift, deliver speeches, sign bills, build, and destroy. They will have to hire mercenaries, assassins, engineers, spies, and scientists. They will pander to monarchs, duel warlords, manipulate political parties, and carefully track the hormonal shifts of the mighty Thoraxian Hive Queen. They will have to crash one economy and boom another, all to keep a delicate balance of peace and power in a complicated network of politics, murder, and let’s not forget public welfare. So much can be done to such diverse players that the game creates a unique and strange story every time. The game is a fascinating and complex reinterpretation of the space strategy game, and should be played by anyone who thinks the genre’s gone stale. However, the game is difficult and, even on the lower difficulties, extremely complicated. Highly recommended for the veteran, but the casual gamer should look elsewhere.
Productivity Wasted by Eli Schwartz
Koreanical Ruminations: Part II Let’s see, where were we… We’d arrived to our hotel, which was in what my Korean sister-in-law described as the “Los Angeles” area of Seoul. This was evidenced by the fact that not only did every block have several coffee shops, but every other block had a plastic surgery storefront. With names like “Grand Plastic Surgery,” “Second Coming Plastic Surgery,” and giant posters advertising before and after pictures; it was a little unnerving.
Indoor/Outdoor Amusement Park
The Hotel The best thing about the hotel was probably the fresh squeezed kiwi juice every morning. The worst thing was probably the bathroom. Specifically the fancy toilet from the future that had about thirty buttons. I know that a futuristic toilet robot probably sounds amazing, but with the added caveat of having to listen to your dad giggle while he experimentally presses buttons, it becomes… not cool. Not cool at all, you guys. Dogs at Bauhouse
The Food Something I noticed pretty immediately after visiting a few of the restaurants there was how trusting Koreans are with fire. A lot of the restaurants there are the type where they bring you raw meat and/or veggies, and you grill it at your table. A hole in the center is filled with red hot coals, and metal grates are brought out every few minutes to ensure nothing sticks to the grill. I tried to imagine a place like that in Chico, but I’m pretty sure that it would only take about a week or two before some mouth-breathing Wildcat drunkenly stumbled and tossed hot coals onto the other patrons. One of the fire-in-the-table spots we visited featured a soup that was a murky dark brown color. It also had a brick of something solid in the center that looked like a chunk of raw liver. Mirin warned us that this was blood soup (the brick in the center was congealed blood), and although it was a very traditional dish, she advised against trying it. Not that I was dying to eat congealed blood anyway, but I didn’t try it. Bauhouse, AKA “Heaven” Somewhere in my pre-Korea, panic-induced research, I stumbled across a listing that sounded, frankly, too good to be true. Bauhouse (no, not the English goth band from the ‘70s), is a puppy cafe. South Korea is packed to the gills with people, and although it’s a giant city, the living spaces are generally pretty compact, making pets rather unpopular. Enter pet cafes! Where the average denizen can come in, order a cup of coffee and hang out with a large number of dogs, cats, or sheep. Why sheep? I have no idea. I don’t really care about sheep. But puppies? I am all about puppies. You can also purchase a bag of treats, and get dirty looks from the other patrons as every single dog comes running over to hang out with you. I almost wish we didn’t have such stringent health code laws here so that we could have a puppy cafe on every corner. No cat or sheep cafes though, that’s just irresponsible.
That’s right, I said it. But keep in mind, I think Disneyland is stupid. However, if you take me to an indoor/outdoor amusement park where the rides feature such whimsical misspellings as “Sindbad’s Adventure” and all the employees dress like extras from an elementary school production of Aladdin (with raccoon tails), well then that sounds delightful. This place was overflowing with animatronic animals, and rides that featured heavy-handed storytelling, with smoke and mirrors. And by that I mean literal smoke from smoke machines, and lots of mirrors. The mirrors were mostly concentrated in the mirror maze, which I went into. They made us put on plastic gloves, then we stumbled our way through the hallway of mirrors, which had about the same amount of black lights and lasers than fast skate at Cal Skate. (That was a 1995 Chico joke, for those of you who weren’t around then, it was a magical time). I Have Seen The Future, And It Is Efficient My brother and I also visited T.um, a museum of technology where we took a tour a saw the various technological advances that will be available on the market in ten to fifteen years. I have seen the future, and it consists of self-driving cars with constant connectivity to the cloud, where all our information will be stored. Also your house will be a giant robot that can monitor your health, communication, and entertainment. It’s basically like that Halloween episode of The Simpsons when they turn the house into a robot (voiced by Pierce Brosnan), and it eventually tries to kill them. Hopefully they’ve seen that episode and have put countermeasures in place for such an event. Apparently the technology already exists, but the struggle is getting it to market. If you want to see a better representation of this technology, check out their website: tum.sktelecom.com The Wedding
went there was to hold a wedding in Korea for my sister-inlaw’s family to attend, since they were unable to come for the first one a few years ago. Mirin’s parents decided to go full traditional for this wedding, with multiple costume changes for the bride and groom, and an eight course dinner. The wedding took place in the courtyard at a palatial estate once owned by the emperor. It was up at the top of a giant hill, with a stark white path of blossoming trees carving sharp lines down the hill. The groom’s parents sat at the right side of the wedding stage (yes, stage), and the bride’s to the left. The groom (my brother), was carried in on a “gama,” a platform with a chair, carried by four men who yelled things in Korean as Spencer waved from atop his makeshift throne. Then the bride was brought in, in a windowless box that couldn’t have been more than three feet across and three feet deep. She emerged, looking like a perfect cake topper in bright blue and yellow robes, and they made their way to the top of the stairs on the stage. Their wedding had a lot of stages and rituals to it, and while these took place, an impeccably dressed serving staff brought us small courses of food. Some of the wedding rituals included the washing of hands (to signify a clean mind and body), and a ceremonial piggy back ride, where Spencer had to hoist Mirin up and carry her around a table stacked high with figs and walnuts. After many more small courses of food, speeches, and a costume change by the bride and groom, the wedding was abruptly called on account of snow. I was in Korea for a total of ten days, and my lasting impressions from that short time are that the people are incredibly nice, the food is a mixed bag, and the puppy cafes are—OH MY GOD THE PUPPY CAFE! Someone open a puppy cafe here please. Zooey, out.
Comical Ruminations
by Zooey Mae
zooey@synthesis.net
Korea Does Disneyland Better Than America
If you all remember from last week, the whole reason we FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 7
PART ONE AN EXOTIC ADVENTURES IN SMALLTOWN, USA SPECIAL REPORT: CENTERFOLDS By Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff Photos by Shannon Iris
1. TEASING THE INTRO WITH A LITTLE BIT OF LEG It’s my third night of reporting for the Centerfolds story, and I’m driving north on Highway 99. The sky is wild, black and electric, streaked with glowing pink clouds eerily illuminated from some unknown source. The air tastes like sucking on a dirty nickel. Little five-second rainstorms keep starting and stopping, as if the clouds are all headed somewhere in a big hurry. The DJ on the radio suddenly interrupts his broadcast of psychedelic rock to announce that a tornado warning has been issued. The tornado, he says, is thought to be about eight miles north of Chico on Highway 99. I do a quick calculation involving MPH, vector, and time travelled, and determine that I am on Highway 99, somewhere between 7.5 and 8.5 miles north of Chico. Then, without warning—unless you count the warning I had just directly received over the radio—my vehicle is strafed by a furious bombardment of sky-obliterating hail, the likes of which I’ve never before seen. I can see nothing. If cows are flying by, I have no idea. Am I in a tornado? Are the tires still on the ground and am I still traveling north, toward Centerfolds Exotic Dancers/Adult Superstore? Have I told my mom enough how much I truly love her? The hail turns off, as if by a switch. I look back, expecting to see barns spinning whole in the sky. There are just those eerily illuminated pink clouds, even a few twinkling stars. I pull into Centerfolds’ lot, unpeel myself from my seat and steering wheel. Ivy is sitting on the bench out front, barefoot, her humongous platform heels sitting at her side, her bare, heavily tattooed legs folded up beneath her, her shoulders draped in a leopard print Snuggie. Little mountains of hailstones are mounded up here and there, like the cocaine in Scarface.
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SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 28 2014
Ivy is kind of freaking out, and for good reason. As we sit on the bench together, she tells me about an incident, back in 2001. She was working at a strip club in Houston very much like Centerfolds. Then an Act of God swooped down out of nowhere and destroyed her every possession; clothes, photos, everything. What happened was a flash flood. “It was the scariest, most surreal moment of my life,” Ivy tells me, soothing herself by stroking her legs with her long, purple, sparkle-covered nails. The flood hit in the middle of the night and in the middle of her shift. The water rose quickly—one foot, two—spilling into the club, filling it. The barely dressed girls had no time to prepare, they had to abandon strip (sorry). With the aid of a kind co-worker’s boyfriend, Ivy was able to make it through the flooded streets back to her apartment. But the only way to her ground floor unit was through a sunken parking lot, which was now a small lake. Alone, in the black night, her silky little garments clinging diaphanously to her, she slipped into the dark waters and swam. But it was too late. It was all gone. Over the several days I spent with the women of Centerfolds, I heard quite a few stories of personal disaster, of being left with nothing, of finding oneself terribly alone, of slipping into something dark and obscure. In every case save this one, the stories ended with the women sliding into a strip club, not running from one. Still, whatever else one can say about the women I met, I’ll say this: they are survivors.
2. SETTING THE MOOD Centerfolds, 10 miles north of Chico, has a roadside truck stop type feel. It’s an aging building with a yellowing marquee, backdropped by miles of cattle pasture. We park, go in. Shannon Iris—the photographer I worked with on this story—
and I are feeling nervous. We keep waiting for Centerfolds’ management to change their mind; for a phone call to come in and for them to say “Actually, guys…” But that doesn’t happen. We have free reign. Well, almost free reign. Shannon can go past the curtain, back into the dressing room. I can’t. “It’s the girls’ ‘safe zone,’” Angel, a dancer and the club’s manager since 2009, explains. No guys allowed. Right away, Angel takes Shannon into the dressing room and I’m left wandering around, looking like a lonely customer, albeit one who creepily takes notes.
lit by black lights, red rope lights, Christmas lights strung around fake plastic plants, and, bathing a pool table in the near corner, a swath of almost mystical forest-green light, too. There’s both a non-operating cheesy-looking fireplace and a broken down waterfall, which is made of fake stone and strewn with discarded lengths of mildewing plastic tubing. The stage has two glimmering golden poles, a wall of mirrors. To its left is the DJ booth, to its right, the “VIP” booths, each with a bath mat-sized circle of stiletto-shredded carpet at the threshold. It smells like perfume, pleather, nail polish, disinfectant, old carpet, hairspray.
To access the strip club one must first pass through the “Adult Superstore.” I peruse. There are things to eat, like the edible crotchless panties called “Cummy Panties,” or “Lollicocks.” There’s “Jizz,” a “cum scented” water-based lube. There are dildos and strap-ons of all dimensions, including “insane.” Some are “Phthalate Free,” whatever that is. One is glow-in-the-dark (probably like 100% “Phthalate”) and yet also described as “life like.” There’s an S&M section, with paddles, collars, gags and nipple clamps, as per the usual.
There are no customers yet, no women on the stage. There is, though, an old man replacing a few bags of trail mix from the vending machines. Which snacks are most popular in a place of spread-leg entertainment, I wonder?
There are sex dolls. For instance, the “Fuck Me Silly 2: Mega Masturbator” ®, a creepy, headless, limbless, pubic-hairless torso, which advertises “Over 12 lbs. of tits and pussy.” The FMS2:MM is reminiscent of one of those marble sculptures of Aphrodite you’d see in a European museum, except that it’s made from thermoplastic rubber and includes a drain hole in its back for “easy cleaning.” We Americans have always been a pragmatic people.
I head over to the DJ booth. The soundboard is huge, with all sorts of blinky lights, knobs and levers. In the dark it looks like it could be Dr Dre’s studio or the cockpit of a space shuttle. What the hell is all this shit, I wonder? Couldn’t they just have a laptop, mic and amp? The DJ, Mike, is a worldly man with an aging rock star look—Alice Cooper, maybe. He’s in a skirt-length black tee and uncle-shorts, and he’s wearing his long, goth-black hair loose and flowing.
And there is porn, all manner of porn, from midgets to MILFs to 3D High Definition porn on Blu-ray. This porn, it strikes me, is probably the strippers’ biggest competition. And now, the specter of young men raised on cheap/free internet porn looms. One could even, if they so desired, watch 3D High Def porn while in the tender embrace of the admittedly headless but still very supple and lifelike FMS2:MM, all ordered from the comfort and drawn-curtain anonymity of one’s own stained bed. The store is as empty and desolate as the pastures outside. I leave the bright fluorescents and enter the strip club.
“See this piece right here?” he asks, pointing to an object which is so old that its black plastic housing has faded. “This piece actually made it into the trash. I pulled it out and got it to work again,” he explains. “And this amp here? I bought this at Salvation Army for like 15 bucks. And my wife got this mic for two dollars at Goodwill.” The mixer is held together by Scotch tape.
3. THE BREEZY, INCONSEQUENTIAL PRANCE AROUND THE STAGE The club is sprawling but feels intimate. This is because it’s atmospherically
“Hard to say,” says the old man, who moves so slowly I can read the ingredients off the bag as he wills it towards its coil. “Not exactly flyin’ outta here on a daily basis.”
I sit down next to the DJ booth with DJ Mike’s wife, Maricel, who is from the Philippines. In her heavy accent, she tells me about babysitting the dancers’ kids, about how she’s only here tonight to be close to DJ Mike, because he’s got some sort of lung infection. She tells me some other stuff, too, but it’s hard to concentrate because a stunning woman with long brown hair is now doing some casual warm up stretches in a Day-Glo string bikini just a few feet away. Cont. on page 18 FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 9
Yay, the Seersucker Ride is here! By Amy Olson
“What?” you ask. “How could you have not heard me?” I answer, “It’s written right there in the title—THE SEERSUCKER RIDE IS HERE!” At this point you’re already exasperated and a little tired of my shenanigans, but because curiosity burns in you like an eternal flame, you’ve mustered the patience to read on. I know what you really mean: you don’t know what seersucker is, you don’t know what the Seersucker Ride is, and you don’t know where this “here” is that I’m referring to (it’s certainly not the cafe you’re sitting in). Do you remember November? Ignore the fact that that rhymed, do you specifically remember the Sunday before Thanksgiving? You may have seen hundreds of grinning cyclists who looked like they’d blown in from the early 20th century, decked out in all manner of tweed on vintage bicycles, riding in a pack that trailed a quarter mile from tip to tail through the streets of downtown and through the loop of lower park. That was the Tweed Ride. Perhaps you’re a dedicated reader of this fine publication and you recall our cover feature on said ride, wherein you gained insight about the history of such things, and the appeal of riding in tweed. Or, perhaps you missed all that. Fear not, it isn’t complicated and I’ll explain it for you here very briefly: People like vintage bicycles. People like old-timey clothes. People like getting together to celebrate the simple pleasures in life while wearing old-timey clothes and riding vintage bikes, and people created events called Tweed Rides (ours, which is in its second year, was organized by Craig Almaguer, George Knox, and Dax Downey, and is made wonderful by many talented and creative members of our community—including the beautiful posters by Jake Early). In the autumn, tweed is the cozy woolen fabric of choice. This is the springtime version, so people wear breezy seersucker. But what is seersucker? What should you wear to this thing, and where can you get it? This is also very simple. Seersucker is a light, puckered cotton fabric (often 10
SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 28 2014
checkered or striped) traditionally used to make summer suits. Think Great Gatsby garden party, but with pants cuffed below the knee to show off delightful socks and wingtips. If you’re a gent, you can go full-donkey and get yourself something like this at an upscale clothing shop like Formal Education, complete with the perfect accessories in all the right shades. Or you can just hit the thrift stores for an ill-fitting ensemble of light colored whatnots, throw on a pair of suspenders, some argyle socks and a jaunty cap of one kind or another, and call it done. (You do have a jaunty cap, don’t you? Try Tom Foolery; they have all sorts of hats and flasks and whatnot) If you’re a lady, it’s even simpler. You’ll want a soft knee to calf-length dress, or a bike-compatible skirt and blouse (try a shop that specializes in vintage, like Bootleg or Funky Trunk). Add an old-fashioned hat, maybe some pearls, a pair of gloves, your best cycling-heels and some bright red lipstick—boom, you’re ready to ride. Honestly, you can wear whatever you want: pick an era, pick a gender, pick a point of view, or go as you are. Your bike can be totally modern, your clothes can be a mish-mash of whatever’s in your closet, the real point is to get a little old school-fancy and have a good time. Where and when is this wonderful thing going down? It happens on Sunday, May 4th, and begins at the Downtown Plaza at 10am sharp (rain or shine). If you’re a child 12 and under—stop reading this paper right now! There are adult themes and foul language!—I should say, if you’re associated with a child 12 and under who you would like to bring to the ride, Chico VELO is sponsoring a coinciding bike decorating and Little Nipper Ride, starting at 9:30am. If you miss the beginning—I don’t know, maybe you just couldn’t get your jaunty cap to look jaunty enough—the ride will wend its way through Bidwell Park, culminating in a leisurely respite at Five Mile, and for many will continue on to Sierra Nevada Brewery for a little post-ride refreshment. There will be picnicking, and pipe tobacco, and record players on bikes. For full details, more photos, and a route map, visit the Chico Tweed Ride facebook page.
This Week Only...
BEST BETS IN ENTERTAINMENT
Friday, May 2nd
Wednesday, April 30th MONTY PYTHON’S SPAMALOT
FIRE & ICE 2014: A4A & SURROGATE
LAXSON AUDITORIUM
LASALLE’S
Spamalot premiered on Broadway in 2005 to the tune of several Tony Awards, and now CSU’s Department of Theatre and Music is bringing the knights, the french people, the killer rabbits, and the music to Laxson Auditorium. $16 general admission, $10 students & children. April 30th thru May 3rd at 7:30pm, and May 4th at 2pm.
If Armed For Apocalypse is bringing the fire, and Surrogate is bringing the ice, then where do openers Aubrey Debauchery & The Broken Bones fit in? Earth, I guess. Despite what the contrasting symbolism may suggest, it’s all going to very loud, and very, very good. Starts at 9pm.
Thursday, May 1st
Sunday, May 4th
AFRICAN GROOVE CELEBRATION DRUM & DANCE PARTY
KZFR DOWNTOWN PLAZA PARTY CHICO CITY PLAZA
CHICO WOMEN’S CLUB
After countless fundraisers and fundraising concerts, we have success! Chico’s favorite radio station will continue to radiate awesome-ness with a new 6,000 watt transmitter, and is ready to party. Come downtown and celebrate the livelihood of listener-supported radio. Entertainment, music, giveaways, and more. 6-9pm.
229 BROADWAY ST, CHICO, CA
It’s time to get down. At 4:30 there’s a dance class w. Naby Bangoura for $15. At 5:30 there’s African dinner for $10, half price for children. At 6:30, for $5-$10 (sliding scale), the drumming and dancing begins! Featuring Samba Sirens, Ascencion, Chico West African Drum And Dance Ensemble, and more!
Other new and exciting things!
28 Monday
t h g i N e e i d La own the night
thursdays
buck11h:3o0upr m 10:30-
Sierra Nevada Big Room: Matt Andersen, David Jacob-Strain. $15, 7:30pm
30 Wednesday
Maltese: Musical Store Room’s Premiere Party. Esco Chris spins classics from 9pm-12am.
1 Thursday
Blue Room: Thoroughly Modern Millie by the Blue Room Young Company. 7:30pm Cafe Coda: The Hoot Hoots, Stubblegum, UFO Vs. The Alien. $5, 8pm Chico Theatre Company: Shrek The Musical. 7:30pm LaSalles: Hot Flash on the patio. 6-9pm
Laxson: “Monty Python’s Spamalot”. 7:30pm Lost On Main: Sammy Dread. 9pm
2 Friday
Blue Room: The Twilight Zone Live. $10, 10:30pm. Thoroughly Modern Millie by the Blue Room Young Company. 7:30pm Cafe Coda: Allegory’s Spring Hafla. Belly Dancing performance. $5, 8pm Chico Theatre Company: Shrek The Musical. 7:30pm Laxson: “Monty Python’s Spamalot”. 7:30pm Lost On Main: Gift Of Gab, Lyrics Born. 9pm Maltese: GravyBrain. $5, 9pm Peeking: BassMint, ft. Intellitard &
EAT. DRINK. PLAY. 229 BROADWAY ST, CHICO, CA 14
SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 28 2014
Find Out How you Can Play Pool for Only $1/Day!
Duffrey. $3-$5, 9:30pm Rowland-Taylor CSUC: Chico State Guitar Ensemble presents “Camaieu”. 7:30pm
3 Saturday
Bat Comics: Free Comic Book Day. Blue Room: The Twilight Zone Live. $10, 10:30pm Thoroughly Modern Millie by the Blue Room Young Company. 7:30pm Cafe Coda: Belda Beast CD Release. Ft. West By Swan, Monk Warrior, and Cities. $5, 8pm Chico Theatre Company: Shrek The Musical. 7:30pm Downtown: Pioneer Day Parade. 11am Laxson: “Monty Python’s Spamalot”. 7:30pm
Lost On Main: Jelly Bread W. The Quick & Easy Boys. 9pm Monstros: Generation Decline, Expired Logic. $5, 8pm One Mile: Endangered Species Faire 2014. 11-5pm
4 Sunday
Blue Room: Thoroughly Modern Millie by the Blue Room Young Company. 2pm, 7:30pm Chico Theatre Company: Shrek The Musical. 2pm Laxson: “Monty Python’s Spamalot”. 2pm Lost On Main: Orgone, DJ Spenny. 9pm Maltese: Rainbow Girls, The Rugs, Duffy’s Sirens. $5, 9pm Senator: Ty Dolla $ign, Joe Moses, Mila J. $13, 7:30pm
LESSONS, LEAGUES AND TOURNAMENTS! GREAT FOOD! LIVE MUSIC! 319 Main Street (530) 892-2473
Ongoing Events 28 Monday
100th Monkey: Happy Healing Hour: variety of healing modalities offered to the public. Donations accepted, 5:30pm The Bear: Bear-E-oke! 9pm Cafe Flo: Jazz Happy Hour ft. Carey Robinson Trio. 5-7pm Chico Womens Club: Prenatal Yoga. 5:30-6:30pm DownLo: Pool League. 3 player teams, signup with bartender. 7pm. All ages until 10pm Janet Turner Print Museum: Juried Student Exhibitions. 11-4pm Maltese: Open Mic Comedy or Music, alternates every week. Signups at 8pm, starts at 9pm. Mug Night 7-11:30pm The Tackle Box: Latin Dance Classes. Free, 7-9pm University Art Gallery: 59th Annual Juried Student Exhibition. 9am-5pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Yoga Center Of Chico: Sound Healing w. Emiliano. Breathwork, Meditation, Healing.
29 Tuesday
100th Monkey: Fusion Belly Dance class with BellySutra. $8/class or $32/month. 7pm Cafe Flo: Open Mic with Aaron Jaqua. 7-9pm Chico Women’s Club: Yoga. 9-10am. Afro Carribean Dance. $10/class or $35/mo. 5:50-7pm. Followed by Capoeira, $3-$10. 7:30-8:30pm Crazy Horse Saloon: All Request Karaoke. 21+ DownLo: Game night. All ages until 10pm Farm Star Pizza: Live Jazz with Shigemi and Friends. 7-9pm Holiday Inn Bar: Salsa Lessons, 7-10pm Janet Turner Print Museum: Juried Student Exhibitions. 11-4pm
LaSalles: ’90s night. 21+ Maltese: Karaoke. 9pm-Close The Tackle Box: Karaoke, 9pm University Art Gallery: 59th Annual Juried Student Exhibition. 9am-5pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Woodstocks: Trivia Challenge. Call at 4pm to reserve a table. Starts 6:30pm
30 Wednesday
Avenue 9 Gallery: Art Guild’s exhibit “Delbert Rupp: Enigma” 12-5pm 100th Monkey: Open Mic. All ages. 7pm The Bear: Trike Races. Post time 10pm Cafe Flo: Live Jazz, 5-7pm Chico Women’s Club: Afro Brazilian Dance. 5:30-7pm DownLo: Wednesday night jazz. 8 Ball Tournament, signups 6pm, starts 7pm Duffys: Dance Night! DJ Spenny and Jeff Howse. $1, 9pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm Janet Turner Print Museum: Juried Student Exhibitions. 11-4pm Jesus Center: Derelict Voice Writing Group, everyone welcome. 9-10:30am Panamas: Bar Swag Bingo/Trivia Night. 9-11pm The Tackle Box: Line Dance classes. Free, 5:30-7:30pm. Swing Dance classes. Free, 7:30-9:30pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm University Art Gallery: 59th Annual Juried Student Exhibition. 9am-5pm Woodstocks: Trivia Night plus Happy Hour. call at 4pm to reserve a table. Starts at 8pm
1 Thursday
Avenue 9 Gallery: Art Guild’s exhibit “Delbert Rupp: Enigma” 12-5pm The Beach: DJ Mack Morris.
LIFE IN CHICO
10:30pm The Bear: DJ Dancing. Free, 9pm Cafe Flo: Delta Blues Project w. Porkchop Holder. 7-10pm Chico Theatre Company: Shrek The Musical. 7:30pm DownLo: Chico Jazz Collective. 8-11pm. All ages until 10pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm Has Beans: Open Mic Night. 7-10pm. Signups start at 6pm Janet Turner Print Museum: Juried Student Exhibitions. 11-4pm LaSalles: Free live music on the patio. 6-9pm Maltese: Karaoke. 9pm-close Panamas: Buck night and DJ Eclectic & guests on the patio. 9pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm University Art Gallery: 59th Annual Juried Student Exhibition. 9am-5pm Woodstocks: Open Mic Night Yoga Center Of Chico: Ecstatic Dance with Clay Olson. 7:309:30pm
2 Friday
100th Monkey: Acoustic Music Singer Songwriter Showcase. 7:30pm Avenue 9 Gallery: Art Guild’s exhibit “Delbert Rupp: Enigma” 12-5pm The Beach: DJ2k & Mack Morris. 9pm The Bear: DJ Dancing. Free, 9pm Cafe Coda: Friday Morning Jazz with Bogg. 11am Chico Theatre Company: Shrek The Musical. 7:30pm Crazy Horse Saloon: Fusion Fridays. Country dance lessons 9-10:30pm DownLo: ½ off pool. All ages until 10pm. Live Music, 8pm Duffys: Pub Scouts- Happy Hour. 4-7pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm Holiday Inn Bar: DJ Dance Party.
8pm-midnight Janet Turner Print Museum: Juried Student Exhibitions. 11-4pm LaSalles: Open Mic night on the patio. 6-9pm Maltese: Happy hour with live jazz by Bogg. 5-7pm. LGBTQ+ Dance Party. 9pm Panamas: Jigga Julee, DJ Mah on the patio. 9pm Peeking: BassMint. Weekly electronic dance party. $3. 9:30pm University Art Gallery: 59th Annual Juried Student Exhibition. 9am-5pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm
SICILIAN CAFÉ
3 Saturday
The Beach: DJ Mah. 9pm The Bear: DJ Dancing. Free. 9pm Crazy Horse Saloon: Ladies Night Dancing. 10pm-1:30am Chico Theatre Company: Shrek The Musical. 7:30pm DownLo: 9 Ball tournament. Signups at noon, starts at 1pm. All ages until 10pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm LaSalles: ‘80s Night. 8pm-close Maltese: Burlesque with The Malteazers! 9pm Panamas: DJ Eclectic on the patio. 9pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Yoga Center Of Chico: Mind Power Workshop w. Gayle Kimball, Ph.D. 1-4pm
4 Sunday
Chico Theatre Company: Shrek The Musical. 2pm Dorothy Johnson Center: Soul Shake Dance Church. Free-style dance wave, $8-$15 sliding scale. 10am-12:30pm DownLo: Free Pool, 1 hour with every $8 purchase. LaSalles: Karaoke. 9pm Maltese: Live Jazz 4-7pm. Trivia 8pm Tackle Box: Karaoke, 8pm
Do you like Life in Chico? So do we! “Like” Life in Chico, CA
facebook.com/ChicoCA
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PHOTOS BY VINCE LATHAM FACEBOOK.COM/VANGUARD.PHOTOGRAPHY
SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 28 2014
by logan kruidenier - logankruidenier.tumblr.com
Leaf on a Tree
“Hey, you.” I stopped walking, looked around for the source of the voice. There were houses; there was traffic; trees lined the road I walked alongside. Eyebrows raised, I turned to keep walking—“I’m right here! Right here!” A fresh green leaf shook a little on its newly grown branch. “Ahh… You’re a leaf.” “I know! Don’t I look great?” It gave itself another little shake in the wind. I admit I was a bit taken aback, so my manners took over, like they usually do in awkward situations like this. “Yeah! You do. Very—ah, green.” “You seem troubled.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the serious expression I imagined the leaf was assuming as it said the words. “Want to talk about it? I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.” “I’m sure you are,” I replied graciously. “Well… Yeah, today I’m a bit depressed. The daily grind, you know. I’m having trouble feeling like I have any purpose here. You have it easy being a leaf: No one expects anything of you, everyone loves you!” For a moment, I heard no response. The bright leaf on its newly grown branch, growing out of its tree at about eye-level, was the lowest growth on the trunk; all the tree’s other foliage was reaching high into the cloudless sky, where it joined the other trees in making a dense canopy that shaded the entire street. This leaf was really quite pretty, I thought. Who would bother to notice it except me,
right now? I felt obligated to appreciate the little guy as best I could, since I was probably the last human who would bother to stop and have an imaginary conversation with it. Besides, its jovial attitude was something I needed today. “It’s hard when you don’t feel you have purpose,” the leaf finally said. “But I look at you and see plenty of purpose, within this moment alone! If you hadn’t stopped to talk, I’d probably have fallen off the trunk eventually, and died, without once getting to practice my English! “My situation isn’t all that different from yours. Living down here on the lower reaches of the trunk can get a bit dreary, but I catch sunlight here that every other leaf misses! It’s important. Your work is lower down too, I assume?” I nodded. “Yeah, it’s lower down. I just wish I did something so much more glorious!” An older, well-dressed man went by on the sidewalk, his head turned over his shoulder to give the leaf and I a strange look as he passed. “Yeah, I wish that too,” my friend replied. “And you might get there someday, as another person. But today you can really only do the work in front of you.” The leaf swished up and down for emphasis. “Yeah leaf, you’re right,” I sighed, then gave it a smile and a nod before walking off.
Howl howlmovesmountains.tumblr.com
PHOTOS BY VINCE LATHAM FACEBOOK.COM/VANGUARD.PHOTOGRAPHY
On The Town
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On The Town
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PHOTOS BY JESSICA SID
SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 28 2014
Working for Tips, and Working for Schmucks Charles Koch is one of the notoriously hateworthy Koch brothers, those nasty billionaires who spend so much of their inherited wealth in pursuit of preserving privilege and tax breaks for people just like themselves, plutocrats who sometimes make the robber barons of the 19th century look like flaming liberals. Koch, who makes more money in 30 seconds than most anyone else on earth makes in a year, eats lunch once a week at the Wichita Country Club, joined there by a gaggle of fellow richies and sycophants. Sometimes Mr. Koch will even pick up a tab for his fellow gazillionaires. What he won’t do, however, is leave a tip for the people who serve him. Not a damned dime. If you’ve ever worked for tips, or waited on people in a high end joint, you know that pressure and stress mounts exponentially when you’re serving an ostentatiously wealthy patron. Such people are often exceedingly hard to please. So when Charles Koch and his well-heeled cronies come for lunch, that makes for a hard day for those who are bowing and scraping to make sure everything is perfect for the potentates of power. Years ago, my brother worked for Basque Norte when that restaurant was up on the Paradise ridge on Pentz Road. One night, a party of 20 people came in, pouring out of three campers to have a restaurant meal while on the road. There was a passel of kids, and the demands for service nearly overwhelmed the waitress whose section and shift were taken up with taking care of them. When that party left near closing time, the owner noticed the waitress had tears running down her cheeks. When he asked what was wrong, she held out her hand to show him a quarter, two nickels, and three pennies. Behind her, three tables were littered with the mess left by her customers, evidence of a difficult evening of work for that waitress. “This was the tip they left,” she told the boss, who then took the change from her hands and raced out the door as the three campers were pulling out of the graveled parking lot. He came up beside the first camper and said, “Excuse me, sir, but you forgot your change.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” the customer said, “that was a tip.” To his great credit, the boss tossed the change through the driver’s window and said, “well, then, you can just shove it.” Waiters and waitresses rely on tips to pay their rent. Not paying for the service provided by people who serve them seems consistent with the Koch brothers’ view of life, an attitude of entitlement for people like themselves, and not much for anyone else. They are scum. The six ever-so-greedy Walton family heirs are richer than the 40 percent of Americans at the bottom of the heap combined, meaning those six people can claim more personal wealth than everything owned by more that 130 million of their fellow Americans. And still, the U.S. taxpayer helps subsidize the Walton family by paying benefits and offering food stamp assistance to Walmart employees who can not live on the wages paid by that company. Since many of these assholes won’t offer even tips for service, I’ll offer a tip to working people who support these rich pricks. We’d better all wise up and resist these bastards before this country starts to look like India, or one of those other two-tiered oligarchies where everything—including basic rights—is reserved for the top one percent and the politicians who do their bidding.
Old Crock
by Jaime O'Neill jaimeandkarenoneill@gmail.com
PHOTOS BY JESSICA SID
On The Town
FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 21
APRIL 28, 2014 BY KOZ MCKEV
Aries
Taurus
Gemini
Cancer
Leo
Virgo
It’s time to put your money where your mouth is. The new moon solar eclipse happens at 11:14pm PDT Monday. How do you envision using your resources in the highest way? Think in terms of your possessions. Do you possess them, or do they possess you? Mars’ retrograde motion is beginning to slow down, and your drive toward a better relationship needs to be looked at with more scrutiny. Family issues can be dealt with during the weekend. Try to eat better as the warm weather season comes on.
The solar eclipse is all about you. You’ve completed some major tasks during the past year. This new moon allows you to initiate new ideas and to set them into motion. Venus moves into your twelfth house where karma from love affairs and artistic imagination become more important. Avoid chronic liars. It’s time to take courage and to realize your goals. Continue to work on your physical strength and stamina. Money making potential is highest Wednesday afternoon through Friday.
Party while you can, but use caution. There is no simple solution to what seems to hurt us. This is a time of year when you are less likely to be conscious. Deception can easily be seen as truth. Don’t always trust your eyes and ears. Pay attention to symbols and messages in dreams. Be more aware of what you can do to help others, thus improving your karma. Pay special attention to those who are in isolated places such as rest homes, prisons, and hospitals. Get more sleep when possible.
Comfort is something that we take with us. We can’t depend on other folks for the comfort that we seek. This is a good time to socialize and to connect with good friends. The new moon eclipse will help you to prepare for the future. Get together with groups of forward thinking people. The weekend features the moon in Cancer. This is a good weekend to plan a party or an event. You have the kind of gifts and resources that people are looking for. Don’t underestimate yourself.
You are more conscious of your talents and skills. You are able to recognize a need and are willing to fulfill it. This week’s solar eclipse can help you be a better beautifier. More cooking, gardening, art, and music, please. Venus moving into your ninth house on Friday will help to make love more of an adventure. The weekend is best for laying low, catching up on sleep, and doing things to improve your karma. Career opportunities are more likely to move in your favor.
The uncertainty of what you recently went through may have made you slightly more timid about taking risks. The new moon solar eclipse in your ninth house highlights higher education, foreign travel, new languages and a higher philosophy. It also makes you luckier than usual. Take some calculated risks. Go out of your way to find the things that inspire you. Wednesday through Friday are good for career advancement. The weekend is best for spending time with friends and socializing.
Libra
Scorpio
Saggitarius
Capricorn
Aquarius
Pisces
You’ll begin to see the fruits of your labor. Your hard work will have paid off. Team efforts, service work, small pets, and charitable causes are likely to be activated by this week’s new moon. Personal health issues can be affected as well. Sometimes it takes three steps in order to move just one. The weekend looks good for public appearances, as well as for advancing your career. Venus moves into your seventh house on Friday, enhancing your ability to feel and find love.
The things that limit us ultimately make us stronger and give us opportunities to be more innovative in our approaches. The new moon eclipse give us a new angle on relationships. Avoid people who are so independent that they disregard your personal needs. People who seem sneaky or dishonest need to be avoided as well. The weekend will give you an opportunity to experience new things and to embrace the deeper lessons. A calculated risk may work out in your favor.
What you want is coming, but you’ll need to pay for it. There is no skipping steps this time around. You need to dive in and do the work. Make good on what you owe others. Your karma is only as good as your reputation and what you’ve contributed, both seen and unseen. Relationship issues are best worked on Wednesday through Friday. The weekend is best for relaxing and taking some personal time that doesn’t involve others, unless it means helping them.
Our broken hearts allow us an opportunity to be more compassionate to others. Dissatisfaction can bring a greater awareness of what is needed most. The new moon eclipse can bring matters of the heart to the surface. Your creative abilities get a shot in the arm. Any issues with your children will be made clear. Do the work with an anticipation for good to come out of it. The weekend looks good for romance and partnerships. Give compliments freely and practice diplomacy.
When we ground ourselves in a comfortable place, we can emerge refreshed for the bigger challenges that lie ahead. The new moon eclipse is about honoring your parents and your ancestors. The most familiar relationships are often the most difficult. Dig into your comfort as well as your discomfort zones. Do what you can to heal the past in order to move forward in freedom. The weekend is good for organizational projects as well as causes that require a group effort.
Good communication is a gift. The things we can do with our hands represent the passions of our heart. This new moon eclipse has to do with siblings, old friends, communication and our local environment. You have good things to share so be conscious about that. Learn to bloom where you are planted. The weekend is good for love affairs, creative projects, working with children, and being playful. Resist the temptation to spend money on a luxury item.
Koz McKev is on YouTube, on cable 11 BCTV and is heard on 90.1FM KZFR Chico. Also available by appointment for personal horoscopes call (530)891-5147 or e-mail kozmickev@sunset.net
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