There comes a time when a boy becomes a man.  It often does not occur in a bedroom, or in a van, or any special place.  A boy becomes a man when tossed into the elements, in the world, in a commonplace, in an extraordinary situation, all alone.  For a fifteen-year-old teenager, in high school, becoming a man meant riding big waves, radically, with commitment, for the entire world to see. For Wracks, his time comes now.

“Let’s go down to Diego, “says Getty

“The surf is flat, I checked it myself,” says Cool

“There might be something coming in at staircase,” says Getty

“Do you have smokes and brew,” asks Cool.

“We have smokes and brew, “promises Getty, “I need company.”

“I have gas money,” says Wracks, “I’m in.”

“Get your gear and throw it in back,” orders Getty.

Kool has a green Meth model shaped like a teardrop, and a green robe and a duffel bag filled with goodies, and he tosses them all in the back hatchback of the yellow and white Volkswagen van.  Wraks has a purple and red second hand NatPro purchased for a song from Bee aye the seventh member of the room.  Getty has a red pintail BK potato chip.  Wracks has drilled out the glassed-in fin on his purple monster and installed a neon large orange fin of his own design.  The result yields a blatant diamond tail billboard meant to handle large surf.  He delicately places his board in the back of the van along with his blue druid robe and a sack of food liberated from his parent’s house.  The ride down to Diego bodes long and boring and Wracks falls asleep, like always on the bed in the back of the van as the tuned exhaust blare a blatant note of existence. 

Kool drinks a Budweiser sixteen-ounce in a huge gulp, finds someone to throw the can at, and heaves the crumpled mass at them on the freeway.  The can bounces off the windshield of a sedan, the sedan swerves, and an angry driver displays the finger to Kool.  Kool displays the finger back and grabs a cigarette, then lights the Marlboro with a Bic butane lighter, smiles, and draws a huge puff from the reefer. The who blares from a tape deck suspended from the metal dashboard of the van and time passes.  Smoke drifts in eddies out the side exit windows, and the town of little happenings comes into view.  Looking down at the cliff, the three survey the beach break with rocky reefs interspersed amongst the long expanse of sand.  The waves break at two to three feet with a light wind blowing the soup into a delicate froth of soup.   

“Let’s go to seven-eleven.”  Says Getty “ I am hungry.”

“Yeah, dah.” Screams cool,   “Hamburger, candy, and a huge Slurpee to go for me.”

The yellow-white van growls into town and the first 7-11 looms in front of it.  Getty pulls in, he and Kool exit the car and go inside the store.   They both return with brown bags and large Slurpees in blue and red cherry.  Wracks eats his bread, a packet of Kraft cheese bits and savors a can of red sugared coca cola. 

“We are going to Windiness, “   smiles HP

“The cashier inside the 7-11 says that a hard south swell currently focuses on Windiness and the surf should be larger there. “

“I have never been to Windiness,” says Wracks

“The break appears to be a deep-water reef close to shore and the waves break right and left depending on the season and the swell direction.” “It is only fifteen minutes more, over the bridge, at the entrance to Diego Bay.  A colony of small houses is situated there and the person told me where we could park safely.”

Over the grey steel bridge and into the southern part of the niche, before Crown beach go the three surf riders with hopes, dreams, and ambition.  In ambition comes excellence and today excellence tests under the envelope of big.  Windiness beach looks like a short beach strewn with rocks, typical of southern California beaches.  Windiness sets straight like a flat beach break except here, south of The Niche, the bottom of the ocean a hundred yards out spans deeper than one thousand feet.  For this reason, ocean swells attract to the reef and rear up suddenly out of the deep water and break hard with much mass and water coming over with the breaking wave.  Wracks looks out the side window of the van and Windiness, today breaks at over twenty-five feet in height.  A tall man in a white helmet and long surfboard enters a huge swell and turns his huge board and banks toward shore on the huge wall of water.  The wave at Windiness rears up as a huge triangular peak and breaks in both directions. At this point in time, the lefts break better.  A slight offshore wind makes the surface conditions epic in nature and the waves tumble to completion with spray dancing off the top of the breaking waves.

“I think the waves are too large for me,” whimpers Wracks

“We are parking, and you are going out,” screams Getty. “The conditions are epic and half of Diego watches on the beach.  If you start to drown, they will call a helicopter.”

“Twisted,” screams Kool and the crowd on the beach turn their heads for a second and look at him. Kool tears his clothes off like a man possessed and stark-naked pulls on his wetsuit like a hotdog stuffing machine.  Today Windiness breaks like big Pipe and Kool rides goofy foot. Windansea and 18^th Street are the only breaks in southern California that fire on a hard south-southeast swell.  Both HP and Kool prepare with amazing speed and run toward the entry spot on the beach.  They both run to the water and cast themselves out like torpedoes steaming out of a submarine.  Wracks remain stolid and slowly waxes his board and counts the set waves.  The sets are four in number with the second wave the largest and the sets periodically appear at twenty-minute intervals.  Wracks decides to paddle out.  At windiness, a channel to the right of the reef sucks waters out in a huge riptide when the waves break large, and wracks enters the entry zone and the rip aids the paddle out into deep water and big waves.  Out in the middle of the ocean, an extraordinarily large set hits the reef and Wracks gets caught inside the area where the wave breaks and loses his surfboard, comes up after the set and finds him in the middle of nowhere in twenty-foot-plus waves.  He sees the older man in a helmet and asks him for help.  The older man says,

“Son, in big surf, you have to swim in.  If a rip pulls you out the only way in is to body surf the waves in.”  Wraks again asks him to help him in.   The man in the helmet repeats his command. “Body surf the waves in,”  “It is the only way. “

In large surf the ocean heaves in turbulence and without a wetsuit, most people soon drown.  Wracks starts to backstroke his way into the beach.  The riptide hinders his exit.  A huge set hits the reef.  Wracks turns into freestyle stroke and scratches hard to enter the twenty-foot-high wave.  The wave picks him up and Wracks hydroplanes down the face of the wave using his hands like fins  At the bottom of the wave, Wracks turns and points toward the open area and the wave overtakes him and pushes downward, deeply and the turbulence spins him around like an old rag doll.  When deep under water all watermen open up their eyes.  Watermen open up their eyes to see where the bubbles go.  Where the bubbles move signals the direction up.  Wracks swim in the direction of the bubbles, break the surface, and gulps down a huge amount of air.  A second wall of white   water hits his body and Wracks goes underneath again.  Watching the bubbles, he swims upward and breaks the surface again.  The set of waves concludes Wracks has been pushed inside towards the beach, and exit from the breakers seems possible.  Within ten minutes, the wrack scramble up on the beach and looks for his board.  Some kind observer rescues his board from the rocks and sets the purple explosion on a safe stretch of beach.  Wracks sits  on the beach and looks again at the breaking waves.

“It wasn’t so bad,” he thinks, I am going back out.”  

Wracks grabs the reins of his horse, gets back on and rides again.  Luckily, no huge clean-up sets made him swim in again.  Both Getty and Cool surf as the time of their lives on the left breaking waves, just like Pipeline.  Wracks surfs the rights which break slower and mushier but still huge in size.  Wracks’ gets three huge set waves presently and successfully performs two rollercoaster reentries in double overhead plus surf.  The wrack notes that the bottom turns feel good with the large custom fin.   By three o’clock PM. HP waves from the beach and heads up to the car at a parking place that mysteriously appears out of nowhere for the three at this exclusive and fabulous colony community.  The three exhausted wave riders strip their wetsuits and dress slowly.  Then the three sit inside the car and devour whatever remains of food in the car at hand. 

“That was epic,” says Getty “Awesome radical lefts.”

“Tubular,” asserts Kool as he smiles largely and eats a two-foot-long beef stick.

“I got two really good ones,”  says Wracks “I can’t go left yet.”

“I have to work tonight, “ says Getty, “lets go.”

The white and yellow van roars to life as the megaphone exhaust shakes and belches mist out of the header.  The van rolls over the bridge, gets on interstate five and the three head for home.  HP smokes cigarettes, drinks a Coca-Cola and drives.  As usual, Wracks falls asleep.  Kool Chain smokes and drinks a Budweiser red sixteen-ounce beer.  Wracks wakes up at the refinery, and again at dismal canyon road, past the high school.  At the corner of Mellow man’s lane, Bacon Way and Saint Inez sits the Wracks’ house, with grandma, the dog, and a little bit of home.  Wracks and Cool pull their gear out of the van and Cool takes his board and duffel and disappears down the street towards Marco’s way.  Wracks rinse off his gear with cold water and enters his house.  The little dog wakes up, yelps, and seems to smile.  No one resides within except for Grandma who sits in her room and watches Lawrence Welk reruns.  She waves at wracks and smiles. 

“I will make dinner in fifteen minutes,”  says Wracks

Wracks finds some chicken with wine left over in the refrigerator and puts the mass into the microwave oven.  The oven hums, the dog runs in his sleep on the cushion, the house darkens as light leaves the remains of the day, and night in tranquil hills begins.  Here nothing becomes of what it seems.  

Wracks never rode the waves at windiness ever again.  The drive remains too long, especially for a person who does not own a car.  The secret of windiness remains.  When a huge storm turns off the coast of Antarctica, in the west, extreme south swells focus on south-facing beaches on a north stretch of land.  A huge offshore canyon at windiness captures extreme south swells and Windiness can be twenty feet when everywhere else looks as flat as a lake.  Everywhere of course, except Jalama and the extremely well-kept green custom houses last another day in a time when darkness and immensity threaten the world and the intrinsic fabric of mankind. If a wave rider surfs windiness, watch out for great white sharks as Simmons disappeared mysteriously there one day in big surf in a deep fog. 

Back in the mind of many, so close yet so far away, but not forgotten, lies Sands Beach.  Sands Beach is located in the northernmost part of Island View and has the distinction of being the exclusive retreat for the students who attend the major university that becomes part of the state University system nearby.  No parking exists for Sands Beach.  Students walk in or lock their bicycles in the racks provided by the university.  The University stresses bio-complacency and urges its residents to walk or ride bicycles instead of driving a car.  A student places his or her bicycle in the racks, locks the bicycle, and then walks past a grove of planted pine trees to behold the undeveloped, unmarked, unspoiled vista of Sands Beach up to Naples reef.   The beach shares the same characteristics as beaches nearby in the Island View Community.  White sand with rocky stretches at the land-ocean interface, with plenty of seaweed dispersed, blending into Mediterranean scrub vegetation moving inland.  The Majestic Channel Islands sit offshore and block most southerly and northerly moving swells that might impact on this coast.  Clean ocean water lubricates the interface of beach and ocean and a rocky reef creates a surfing location amenable to board riding.  During the winter months of November to the end of February, intense onshore winds blowing around point conception create surfable waves up to eight feet on the rocky reefs after which the swells close out in a huge wall across the beach.  What makes Sands so attractive to wave riders stems not from its seclusion, or location, only the fact that the prevailing winds create wind swells all winter long.  During the winter months of Island View, Sands Beach breaks three to six feet almost every day.  A right-breaking wave predominates and pipeline tube riding becomes possible across the shallow rocky reefs.  Another byproduct of seclusion and University policy derives the fact that Sands is also the locally sanctioned nude beach.  Women in various stages of undress sunbathe or frolic in the breakers and show nature’s way in all shapes forms and nuances.  Modest girls only take off their tops and men become immune to the sights that normally would send a lone heart racing.

Wracks peddles his ten-speed bicycle to Sands with his Halloween orange progression surfboard shaped by Rdick every chance he gets and in Island View this happens almost every day.  The university does not enforce attendance in class and the girls do not magnetize to Wracks because he is nothing more than a starving student with no ways or means or committee.  Wraks loves to tube ride Sands Beach.  Dalman loves to tube ride Sands Beach, Cloy comes to tube ride Sands Beach.  The wave at Sands Beach has the attribute of being easy to master.  Merely paddle into a building right peak, put the board into a sideslip, and as the swell hits the rocky reef and becomes a tubular vortex; drag his or her hand and tube ride, pipeline style.  This action yields a wave cover-up and an easy exit over shallow water.  Even though the beach has pools of tar that riddle and trap a person who treks across its surface, Wracks never tires of the fine, offshore breezes that prevent the wave from breaking and create a spinning tube that breaks like a closing zipper with spray-pushing out to sea.  Wracks keeps a jug of paint thinner at his apartment to wash the sticky black goo from his bare feet.  Sitting out in the water on an early Saturday morning as the sun nears zenith and watching nude women parade up and down the beach, the reality seems like a vision from nirvana or utopia.  In a neoprene wetsuit, the cool, fresh ocean water, laden with beneficial minerals, replenishes and rejuvenates the body and the relaxation of the moment,  calms the soul making life bearable, even pleasurable.  Even the huge great white sharks that frequent the area bask benevolently and never intrude or molest people like Wracks or his roommate Cool.   Because the sewage outlet for Saint Barbara city, exits two points and ten miles to the south, the white sharks seem well-fed and almost friendly.  When a white shark has no hunger, the beast will hover underneath the surface of the water with its dorsal fin submerged.  A twenty-foot-long white shark can hover in ten feet of water, motionless for extended periods.  Occasionally, a huge white shark will shudder to warm its carcass in the cold water and vibrations from the shaking emanate in all directions like little ripples in a tide pool. At Sands Beach, white sharks often linger ten feet away.   When a white shark’s fin breaks water, the animal seeks to startle prey into bolting or flight. Motion excites predators.  In the presence of a predator, a wise human remains motionless, or moves slowly away from the animal, as they inch away.   Out in the water, if a fin comes up, a wave rider begins, without splashing, to paddle nonchalantly to the beach. This is because if a white shark touches him or her out in the water or bumps that person, the shark will ultimately attack him or her and devour them.  Once a shark has a person in their memory, he or she cannot ever go back in the water at that place and must hunt, catch, and harvest the shark because white sharks remember and live a long time.  Wracks never think about worst-case scenarios.  Waves at Sands beach break beautifully, the water cools and refreshes, and the young women look fabulous in the buff.  S.B. has a short winter period of wave activity, a narrow swell window, and a large surf that only happens for one day.  Wracks soon will return to the city of Angeles and intensive training in remorse.

Only the shadow knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men.  Only the shadow possesses the word or invisibility outlined in the Holy Koran.  Wracks do not want to be like the shadow. Wracks wants to work in a free clinic and ride large surf radically.  The future looms hazily in the mind’s eye of Wracks.  The future in its nebulous and stochastic parameters, floats silently, but majestically and never leaves Wracks alone.  In a time when darkness pervades all, and righteousness and justice go on sabbatical without notice, there remains beauty in nature for all to witness, partake in, and enjoy.  Man, no matter how important he or she seems still exists as a toy in the hands of Allah. 

Imaging is the future of modern Medicine.  In a world of procedures, surgeries, biopsies, and the like, non-invasive techniques will eventually eclipse current dogma.   In surgery, the risk of morbidity and death from anesthesia is present, and the longer the operation, the more likely complications and failures.   Biopsies demonstrate very little except the histologic picture of tissues, all of which are moot, and all biopsied organs bleed and lead to surgery.  Endoscopies show the presence or absence of inflammation and/or obstruction and the risk of perforation of a viscus is tantamount.  A perforated viscus leads to major laparoscopy to repair the hole made by a scope.

Enter CAT scans and static X-ray imaging.  These techniques focus on density differences and an increase or decrease in opacity usually means some sort of pathology.   X-ray techniques are easy, cheap, and reliable.   They cause little tissue morbidity and all the patients like their non-invasive nature.  One would think PET and MRI scans might be the new technology to evidence disease in situ, but they are not.   Magnetic resonance imaging relies on an atom changing orientation in the presence of a magnetic field, and when the current stops, the atoms jump to their natural configuration and liberate an electron.   This electron picture forms in a computer, and the pattern suggests various disease processes.  However, the picture produced on a screen reflects secondhand manipulation of nuclear data and sometimes does not illustrate what is happening.  MRI scanners cost an enormous amount of money and use fabulous amounts of electricity, and high Gauss magnetic fields cause cancer.  It is no secret that the cancer rate is statistically higher among people that live next to high power lines.  High-power electric lines emit magnetic fields.   Furthermore, the image on a screen generated by an MRI scan is a direct function of the program that creates the image, and the result is a nebulous picture subject to conjecture.  

What are we the people to do?    Do we rely on CAT scans?   X-ray technics show an increase in opacity dependent on the atomic mass of the tissue being assayed.   This is the reason physicians inject high-molecular weight contrast agents to delineate the area in question.   How about blue light and thermal imaging?    Shining a blue light against soft tissue can reveal masses that have calcium deposition or the presence of calcium in inflammation.  Tumors because of their change in tissue identity can be evidenced as lumps, masses, or accumulations of aberrant cells.   Why blue light?    Red light photons have the same wavelength as the bonds of water and are absorbed and diffused by soft tissue.  Yellow, orange, and green absorb to a lesser extent.  It is the blue light that exhibits the least absorption by protein and water and by Tran’s illumination; a scientist can see what is going on deep in the tissues without biopsy or surgery.  This technic has obvious significance for assaying soft masses and genital tissue.   The breast is a primary example

What is it with thermal imaging?  Isn’t thermal imaging what the Russians use to track jet airplanes and missiles in flight to identify adversaries at a distance?   Highly sensitive Russian thermos-sensors used for medical purposes can also identify and delineate disease.  Infected tissue and organs get hot compared to surrounding tissue.   A thermos-sensor can identify infection.   Cancerous tumors are cold.  Due to anaerobic metabolism and cellular metabolism according to Moore’s embryology, cancer of all types is cold in relation to healthy tissue.  From this primary difference, a physician can determine whether a lesion is an infection, an inflammation, or a cancer.  

Here is imaging in a nutshell.  All scientists relate that their discoveries occur because they stood on the shoulders of giants that preceded them.  This is no exception.  Let us, the public hope that medicine will take heed and not railroad sick patients into surgery.  Hope springs eternal and have a good day.

Everyone thinks that parasitic illness confines the tropics and underdeveloped countries.  This fact may be true, but sophistication brings parasitosis to the USA.  The United States exists as a country of tourists and the corporate airlines ferry them to exotic destinations around the world.  These people come back to the mainland with illnesses that the medical fraternity diagnoses as cancer and obesity whereas they truly are infected with parasites.  All people with protuberant abdomens harbor intestinal parasites in a myriad of types and symptoms. Midriff bulge in women and beer belly in men signifies an abdominal parasitic infection. Everyone over forty has an occult parasitic infection. They must be treated appropriately.  Any nation that lives in coexistence with wild animals, and insects, happen an endemic, reservoir for parasites. 

Most insects perpetuate as vector forms in the body of hosts and cause disease.  The act of living apart from insects is impossible because they are everywhere and reproduce rapidly.  The major parasitic diseases of the world are Malaria and Schistosomiasis.  Malaria is mainly an intestinal parasite that migrates to other parts of the body through trophic forms.  Monkeys and rodents rather than mosquitos, vector malaria in their feces, and when a human ingests contaminated food, they develop Malaria.  As to what insect, this middle form belongs to, is subject to future genetic analysis.  Similarly, Schistosomiasis fluoresces as the middle form of eggs in snail feces ingested by humans, rather than the meta-cyclic, transient, infective form, that students are taught in medical school.  To give human malaria, capture a wild monkey and feed the victim monkey guano.   To give a person fascioliasis, culture snails and feed humans strained snail feces.  To infect a person with schistosomiasis, culture aquatic snails in an aquarium, feed them bird guano, and sift the meta-cyclic trypanosomes out by pouring aquarium water through a coffee filter.  Similarly, for the fish tapeworm, diphyllbothrium latum,   puree raw fish, make a salad dressing or sauce, and feed it to friends or restaurateurs.  All vegetarians with protuberant bellies have been fed pureed raw fish sauces.  The list remains endless, and all parasites culture in sophisticated labs set up by affluent human beings cause endless misery for the unsuspecting citizens of the United States. 

People are mischievous, and treatment for parasitic disease involves lengthy courses under the care of a physician versed in the use of toxic medical agents.  American medicine to this day views swellings and protuberances as cancer to be extirpated surgically.  A surgical patient eventually dies.   All the media hype for colon cancer and the discovery of polyps in the large intestine by colonoscopy is the discovery of tapeworms and parasitic forms in the intestine.  The poor suffer colonoscopy, perforation, and eventual colectomy when in reality they have parasitic disease.  Parasitic disease is treated by an internist competent in the use of toxic anti-parasitic medicines over a prolonged period. 

The test of time determines ultimately the genetic pattern of parasites so that scientists can compare gene sequences with the gene sequences for insects.  Then we the people will have a definitive diagnosis and treatment.  Surgery, as a treatment, confines trauma patients, to stop bleeding, rather than people with bumps or obstructions.  A person cannot look at themselves in a mirror and diagnose their maladies.   A physician with lengthy training in tropical disease must exert their ethical religious influence to maintain the health of the population.  The treatment of intestinal snails involves toxic agents.  Schistosomas rapidly develop resistance to praziquantel.   The fish tapeworm is the hardest intestinal parasite to worm.   What the world needs now is competent physicians dedicated to preserving the health of the nation’s citizens.  We don’t need money-grubbing capitalists, who charge a lot and do very little, in modern medicine.  Civilization eventually becomes an economic franchise and we the people need God-fearing individuals to help us and we need them now. 

One day, after school, around 2:30 at Tranquil Hills High, Wrack pulls the chains from a red Suzuki 250 motocross bike set up for the street. He puts the chains in his backpack.  A tall, lanky, athletic male walks towards him from the Parking lot. The person has dark curly hair, and sports a Hawaiian shirt, beige corduroy walking shorts, and plastic flip flop zories.   The people in these parts call plastic sandals zories because Zorba wears zories and has a pair.  The person waves the classic star trek salute to Wrack and says, “Hello, my name is Lu, want to party this weekend?”   Wrack says, “Are you from around here?”  “I go to Sunni high school on the west side and am visiting a friend here in town.  I have all the stuff necessary to party and I need a shotgun. Are you in?”  “What you got?” inquires Wrak.  Lu points to a brand-new Volkswagen Westphalia minivan.  “I even have curtains on all the windows,” says Lu.  “The back seat folds out into a bed big enough for four people. It gets good gas mileage and even has a water tank in case of thirst, but I try to keep the water tank full of Vodka.”  ” Are you joking,” asks Wrack?   “Can I see?”   “Sure,” says the minivan is two tones with a light blue bottom and white top.  All the windows have cute sliding curtains done in beige cotton print.  “Look inside,” says Lu.  The side door slides open with a low metallic groan.  Inside is a huge bed fitted with turquoise vinyl foam cushions one foot thick.  A small wet bar constructed of stainless-steel sits opposite the bed on the driver’s side.  Next to the door is a small closet.  Indian-style curtains with beads separate the driver’s compartment from the bedroom so that one person can drive and another sleep in the back in total privacy. “I have the big 1800 engine,” says Lu.  “It will do 80 miles an hour and 65 miles an hour up hill.  “How much did this cost,” asks Wrack.   “Six thousand dollars,” says Lu, “six thousand.”  The van is totally custom with an electrical outlet and running water.”  “Unbelievable,” exclaims Wrack.  “If I am in town on Friday, I will stop by and pick you up with some girls.”  “Are you in?”  Whispers Lu “I’m in” says Wrack.  Lu walks slowly to his van door, gets in, starts the engine and drives off slowly.  Wrack waves goodbye and kickstarts his motorcycle to ride home.  Friday is three days away.  The sun sets early in tranquil hills because the mountains near the ocean shield the sun during its descent.  The sunsets on the beach are magnificent on a daily basis especially in the spring and summer.  The huge orange supernova orb descends minutely surrounded by   red, yellow and purple strata and Wrak never gets tired viewing them and today is a school day with homework to do, family to visit and dinner to eat before going to bed and early to rise to make a young man healthy, wealthy and wise. The little dog curls up on his cushion and lies on his side and runs and whines as he sleeps like he is chasing rabbits.  Then when you go to see him, punkin has gone outside, nowhere to be seen.

     “Be sure you brush your teeth,” says Lu-ay.  Girls do not like grungy teeth.  He is in the classic Hawaiian surfer wardrobe as usual.  My father looks at Lu, Lu looks at my father, and my father looks back at Lu.  My grandmother peeks out from behind the hall door with one eye and then she is gone. “Let’s go partying,” yells Wrak. “Yes.”  “Party we shall.”  Shotgun in the Van with seatbelts and down Bacon Way past Deadpan’s Lane to Market Street and then on Moonrise Blvd. the van hums with tuned exhaust headers and a glass pack muffler.  Lu pulls a gas mask from underneath his seat.  “What is that?” asks Wrak. This is an oxygen mask from a B-17 with a meerschaum pipe secured to its end.  “What do you smoke in it?” asks Wrack.  “Weed,” says Lu, “and Lots of it.” From behind the seat, Lu pulls a 30-gallon black trash bag into the driver’s compartment.  The bag is full of something.  The something is Mexican commercial green marijuana, about, two pounds worth.  Lu stuffs some Mexican grass into the meerschaum pipe, secures the gas mask to his head and hands Wrack a Bick Lighter.  “Light me up,” says Lu.  “The police cannot see me smoke anything while I drive,” says Lu.  “I can smoke pot on the freeway.”  Wrack takes the Bick lighter and flames the pipe bowl.  Lu puffs hard inside the mask and smoke jettisons out the side ports like a fire-breathing dragon.  The whole cockpit fills with smoke.  “I will smoke a cigarette,” says Wrack.  Lu pulls down his mask and says, “Ragweed.”  I don’t smoke ragweed, only the best.” “The police cannot believe I smoke weed through a B-17 oxygen mask.  They never pull me over.”  He pulls over to a street off Moonrise Boulevard in tranquil hills and stops in front of a residential address.  He honks twice.  Two girls ran out from the front door of a house set in lush bushes.  They have light brown hair rendered blond by the sun or peroxide.  Lu says, “This is Joanie and Jennie.  Jennie says she wants to meet you because she likes surfing. 

       Both girls have hot pants on without nylon stockings, and halter tops set off by tan bikini lines.  They have purses with chain straps.  “Don’t you feel cold,” says Wrack.  “Not at all,” says Jennie, “Not at all.”  “Wrak, get out of shotgun and go sit in back with Jennie.”  “Joanie wants to sit with me.”  Wrack opens the side door, gets out and then unlocks the side door and lets Jennie in.  Wrak and Jennie sit together.  She feels very warm to the touch.  “Would you like a drink,” says Jennie.  “Sure,” says Wrack.  Underneath the wet bar is a refrigerator, Lu says, “Jennie, there is a quart of beer underneath the sink, break it out, we are partying.”   Jennie obtains a plastic glass from the refrigerator and pours some beer into the glass and hands the cup to Wrack. “Drink all of it,” she says.  “Sure,” says Wrack,” ” I love Coors beer.”  Wrack drinks the cup down in one gulp and burps. “Pardon me,” says Wrack.  “That was really good.” “Here,” says Jennie. “Drink another.”  “I love beer.” Says Wrack.  Night moves in to tranquil hills and Death Wood and happy hills.  Wrack never could remember where the party was that night, only that it was fun.  The party location exists somewhere between the lines.

         The best parties have a live band and a keg of free bear, or three kegs of free beer, or four kegs of free beer, and a smoking room.  This party has it all.  Wrack feels high and Jennie asks him to dance.  Wrack starts doing the twist like Chubby Checkers and then the swim like Goldie Hahn.   Somehow a strange force throws him to the floor. He became the first break dancer in southern California, spinning and sliding on his back.  Jennie squeals with delight.  The night has just begun and the band plays “Gimme Shelter,” and “Brown Sugar”   and more.  A ton of pretty girls in scanty clothes appeared and now everyone is dancing.  The girls dance. The guys dance.  Kool is here He says, “Hi Lu-ay, what is shaking”.. The Getty is here with his Doctor’s daughter and night moves into night.  “Let’s sit awhile,” says Wrack.  “Let’s go back to Lu’s Van and listen to the radio,” says Jennie “I left the door open.”  “All right,” says Wrack, “Let’s go.”

“It is more comfortable back here,” says Jennie.  “Why are you closing the curtains,” inquires Wrack.  “So we can have some privacy,” says Jennie.  “Want some more beer,” “Sure, “says Wrack.  Wrack drinks beer. Wrack drinks beer because the world is incredibly high and colors and textures vivid and exciting. Wrack hopes the beer will cut the buzz that somehow permeates his being.  “I turned on the radio,” says Jennie. “You have a radical bottom turn.”  “What shall we talk about?”

The door pulls open with ferocity and Lu pulls Wrack out of the door.”  “I was wondering where you two were.”  “I have to get the girls back home by 11:30!  “I don’t know what came over me.” Says Wrack.  Jennie closes the door and composes herself. Lu and Joanie get in the front and start the car.  Wrack and Jennie lean on each other.  Wrack is back on earth and the van hum’s down the highway from Happy Hills to Tranquil Hills to the beginning of rationality and reality.  “See you later girls,” says Lu.  “Bye Wrakie, let’s go party again,” says Jennie.  Wrack waves goodbye.  Jennie turns around, puckers her lips and gives the air a slow long kiss, and then they are gone.  “Use the one-day delay,” says Lu, “The one-day delay.”  “What is the one-day delay.” Says Wrack.  “Date them once and do not touch them, the next date they are all over you.”  “I understand,” says Wrack.

The custom Westphalia sputters off into the night.  Lu has to visit a friend at Saint Elsewhere.  The night is dark and long and quiet and the porch lights on bacon way glimmer sadly and emphatically.  The quiet permeates the seaside atmosphere, and in the quiet broods something unearthly lives on the house on the corner.  Wrack opens the front door with his Schlage key.  Grandma stands at the door with pun kin sitting next to her standing form.  “You are home,” she says, “thank God.”  Punkin wags his tail and yips with a high note.  “It is fun dancing grandma,” says Wrack.  “It is late, go to bed,” she says. The door is locked and the house of Wrack closes up for the night, tonight and all are home and accounted for and Saturday is today when the sun comes up.

At the church, she is the most beautiful person in the world.  The billowing white dress made of lace and chiffon that she borrowed from her sister insists that she is very special.   She wears blue suede high heels that make her almost six feet tall.  Her long golden hair weaves into a bun, and her grey eyes and smile make her groom feel like he is worth a million dollars.  Dressed in a black tuxedo, dark, shiny, and new, the groom has a ring and nothing else except a lifelong promise.   The Catholic Church in a wealthy section of Encino is chosen by the groom’s mother; a woman of many talents and accomplishments, and the guild of her friends who live on the west side of town.   Full of figurines and stained glass windows that let colored light into the room, this church with many brown pews and polished marble floors, exudes the essence of a wealthy Christian heritage.    As the bride ascends the stairs to the alter where the groom awaits with hope and high expectations, the black-bearded Latino priest, dressed in a green gilded vestment, proclaims a union of families and a marriage between two, young people.  After a lifelong promise, the small gold ring goes on her finger, and then a kiss on her lips, and then the two begin their life together.    A huge black, Cadillac, limousine awaits them at the stone-stepped entrance to the cathedral.   Then off to the airport, with their nylon luggage, the two begin their honeymoon at Aunt Della’s timeshare in a tropical place

The parents subsidize most of the elegant marriage ceremonies and exotic tropical destinations. Roc notes that economy seats on an airline are small and confining, and when the person in front reclines his chair, a passenger must recline to remain comfortable. The cabin reveals rows of chairs, canted back, like an open can of sardines. The meal consists of a hot, meat sandwich and a cold soft drink, but most passengers buy the little bottles of hard liquor, drink them down, and get drunk.  The morning wedding turns into afternoon, and the afternoon darkens to night and the plane arrives at the tropical place.   Palm trees sway in the light sea breeze, the nylon luggage is light, and the two-engine transit plane waits for people to embark, to go to an upper-class place, that only the upper class frequent.   Flying in this light plane feels like your feet are hanging into open space as the hand of God wafts the children of the covenant to a new place. 

Hundreds of Portuguese man of war litter the tropical beach, and the water is warm, and the sun shines intently upon humanity.  A Cuban man with long black hair says “good morning” as he fishes for his daily meal from the beach.  He fondles a six-inch long stiletto, that is sharp, and cuts bait gingerly.

  “There is no rest,” he confides to the new couple.  “Good luck” he says as he makes another long cast and the life ahead begins.  

The players in their brightly colored uniforms and special hats play Jai-lei in the coliseum, and their scores post on the electronic board overhead.   Roc goes and bets on the games. He never wins and the old man with long white hair and a brief smile sits in a chair away from the action, knowingly. The Roc buys a rum and frascadito and throws them down his throat.  This is how they live he says to himself.

  “This is how they live”, and I am different and he gives his bride a hug.

Of all odd places to ride waves, Point Zero ascends to top of the list. When Zuckie was asked why Point Zero was named Point Zero he replied in his casual goofy foot manner,”Why don’t you go and surf it yourself and see why!” No one speaks about Point Zero. People talk about Sakis which is the next point to the north, and drainpipes, but never about Point Zero. Pick, the archtypal soul surfer and one of the most talented of the pre-generation used to surf it alone. He never would talk about it either. One day Cool and Wracks picked up Pick hitching at Moonrise Blvd and PCh and he said, “Bring me to Point Zero today.” Kool who owns a brown and yellow Volkswagen van acknowledges the plea, drives past Point Doom and drops off Pick who draws on a cigarette he claimed from Cool and disappears in the bushes. Cool finally confides to Wracks why no one talks about Point Zero. “Pick was surfing it alone one day and a twenty foot white shark grabbed him in its mouth and swam around with him for over five minutes. Luckily a large set of waves hit the reef; Pick unzipped his wetsuit, wiggled out and escaped. All the shark got was a neoprene taco for lunch. Cool who also is a goofy foot never rides Point Zero either. “I like Colony,” he says, or “Let’s go to Drainpipes.” When wracks finally bought his first car at age 21, a car previously owned by the famous one for one hundred dollars, Wracks pulled down the side road and switchback, past the torn down beach house and the sign that says Point Zero and to the parking lot on the ridge overlooking the beach. The old barracuda, belching smoke and smelling like a refinery on fire comes to a rest. In front of Wracks sits a desolate beach. Point Zero sits as short left point, littered with boulders and has huge stalagmites sticking out of the water in the zone where waves break. Out about one hundred yards floats a huge kelp bed. The beach although short beautifully typifies the beaches in north County: white sand, sea shells, kelp on the beach and brick a bract thrown about by the intense tides of large duration and amplitude that happen during the summer months. To the north about five hundred yards lays Leo Carrillo beach with its famous Rock, right slide, and huge campsite across PCH. Half way to Sakis point, a dark strip of water abuts up to the beach. No waves break in between Sakis and Point Zero because a deep trench divides the two points and he or she can see the deep water showing with a dark blue shadow. In this trench that ends only ten feet from the beach, huge white sharks sleep. The only fatal shark attack in southern California occurred ten feet off the beach, in calm water, on a beautiful day to a swimmer wading in the water alone. The buddy to the person watched in horror as his friend was bitten in half then eaten whole. The water then became calm again. Why then does anyone surf Point Zero? Most of the time, small piddle waves crumple haphazardly down the left point in many sections and slow spots. Most of the other surf spots break better including Sakis that lays a ten minute walk up the beach north. The answer to the question lies in propinquity and timing. When the Bu is six feet plus, the reef at Zero at the point breaks. On a big southwest swell Zero breaks two feet bigger than the Bu on the reef with fast left slides after a shallow take off tube. One Saturday Wracks awoke late to discover a large southwest swell starts to hit North County south facing beaches. Immediately he puts his new Lightning bolt gun into the Cuda, Fires up the beast with a screwdriver in the ignition and heads north. Everyone in space including heaven parks at Surfrider beach. The Bu breaks at ten to twelve feet at low tide coming up in spinning tubular vortexes off the far point and everyone including the messiah floats out in the water on their big wave board. No parking spots remain and Wracks outclassed heads to places north. “I am going to check out Point Zero,” thinks Wracks. “I want to surf backside today in big surf. “ The ride seems short and Wracks keeps the windows down because the cabin fills with exhaust smoke as he drives. Down the small road the Cuda bumps and Wracks beholds the secret that Pick will take to his death.
It just happens that a large southwest swell focuses on Point Zero! The slowly rafting kelp forests one hundred yards out cover a reef that only yields breaking waves when the swell exceeds six to ten feet. In breathtaking revelry, huge mountainous breaking caverns rear up on the hidden reef and throw over like a left Sunset Beach Hawaii. The wave then hits the point and barrels down the line for fifty yards until it reaches the deep chasm that divides Sakis from Point zero and there the water remains calm. On this day when Surfrider breaks at ten to twelve feet and God thinks about going in, Point zero looms outside at fifteen to twenty feet high on the Sets. In his mind, Wracks thinks in an instant, like a light, “speed, danger, and sharks Oh My.” Wracks puts fresh Paraffin on his Lightning bolt space ship, pulls on a spring suit in blue, buckles up his leash and paddles out. A huge set hits and wracks barely make it over the top of the second wave of the set. The third wave backs off smaller. Out in the middle of madness alone, in the Kelp Bed Wracks sits. A person with a long board arrives on the beach and watches. A huge set of waves appears on the horizon. Wracks paddles to the right to get the second and biggest one. He paddles as hard as he can and sees a wall rearing up in front of him and Wracks thinks he is too far back and will drown. Wracks make the drop to the bottom and turns as hard as he can in a squat. The board accelerates like a bar of wet soap, and the wave comes over him, and the wall must be ten feet thick, and Wraks prays for four seconds. Neptune releases him and mother earth bestows him with a kiss and Wracks shoots out of a spinning vortex like he never has experienced before. After countless S turns down the line, Wraks exits at the trench and out of the corner of his eye sees a head slowly rise out of the water and look at him. Wracks paddles back out as fast as his skinny ass will go and the Long boarder who saw the wave runs down the beach with a nine foot six inch custom long board gun, jumps into the white water and paddles like a man possessed out to sea. Back in the lineup, Wracks sees the other person. The other person Wracks later discovers is Roy. Maybe Joist paddled out to put Wracks in a headlock? Maybe Roy arrives to size up Wracks for a go. Whatever the case, Wracks and Roy enjoy twenty foot waves alone with deep respect for each other’s territory. Wracks surfs at least six, maybe more, twenty foot walls all the way to the trench. Joist gets many too. Wracks starts to tire but knows that this session may be the best one he will experience in his lifetime. Finally a huge twenty five foot wave catches wracks in the impact zone and his leash slices through half of his board like cheese cutter. In the middle of the maelstrom, Wraks freestyles into the white water soup and feels something touch him. Sprinting like an Olympic swimmer, Wraks heads to the beach and body surfs a small ten foot wave into the craggy beach where he Rock dances through the white water and the breaking soup upends him two times. On the beach lies his new Lightning bolt gun almost cut in a half like a band saw. Wracks sits for awhile and watches the huge waves break in the kelp forest in a light summer breeze as the sun relentlessly puts a shine and glamor on the water’s surface. The rocks on the beach cover with green and the seaweed smells musky and the warm sand sits alone and other cars start to show up. Wracks waves to Roy and heads up the cliff. Roy sits outside alone. Wracks smokes a cigarette, climbs in the car, and drives home. Surfrider beach still has no seating available and people pay the Parking lot attendants at Alice’s restaurant fifty dollars American to park there. Wracks enters his house, walks to his bedroom and falls asleep. Wracks woke up at night to eat something. The dog in the basket wags its tail and yodels. Wracks eats, goes back to sleep, wakes up in the morning to wash off his gear and check the waves and the swell dropped down to six feet in size and Wracks returns home to study and do chores.
Wracks would savor Point Zero three more times at greater then fifteen feet before he leaves southern California. Amazingly, Roy appears out of nowhere with his long white long board with a red band around the center and they share huge, gaping, spinning, kelp forest vortexes together. A few other people eventually join them out at the reef but never more than five people at a time. A fin never came up to circle Wracks out in the lineup. However, Wracks could feel something there waiting for him, possibly waiting for a mistake. Occasionally when Wracks made a long ride to the chasm, he would imagine a head slowly emerge out of the water in the periphery of his vision from behind. The images from these ventures ingrains into Wracks memory and imagination. Point Zero still exists. Few people surf Point Zero because Surfrider beach and the Colony break better and situate in town. The secret is this: on a huge southwest swell, in the summer, Point Zero breaks bigger than anywhere in Southern California including Lower Trestles. Please don’t surf Point Zero Alone.

Jalama Lompoc began as a destination away from it all, far away, in the resources of my imagination.  Everyone would say, “Let’s go to Jalama,” and no one would know why except that the word Jalama arouses the curiosity of Wracks and more.  Geographically speaking, Jalama Lompoc exists as the name for a city in Central California, on the west beach side.  To get to Jalama Lompoc from Los Angeles, a traveler embarks on the 110 north and then at the Danish town of Solvang, head to the beach to highway 1.  Another way is to take the Pacific Coast Highway all the way up, past the Point Mugu obstacles, Past Ventura, Past Santa Barbara, until the winding hill with no pity at a 15 percent grade, for twenty miles, takes the traveler to Jalama Lompoc State Beach Park.  Then and there a traveler has arrived after three hours of driving.  Jalama Lompoc Beach Park to the north consists of campsites on the beach.  A cliff then grows to the north and the place becomes Point Argüelles.  The beach has white sand, plenty of seaweed and a scenic cliff backdrop.  Up to the north sits the city of Surf, the sister beach to Jalama Lompoc.  The Jalama area points directly north, northwest and Point conception just outward on the map to the most western place on the west coast of the United States.  For some unknown reason, the water at Jalama invigorates at a temperature ten to twenty degrees below the surrounding ocean to the north and to the south.  To a surfer, this cold water means intense pain when dunked by a huge breaker far out at sea and Jalama Lompoc has the largest breakers on the California coast.   All winter long, Jalama breaks bigger than ten feet every day and large swells make the place a shipping nightmare with waves bigger then can be imagined. Jalama also breaks in the summer but in a smaller capacity.   A reef to the very south, almost to the North gate of the Ranch, of Jalama Lompoc receives the name Tarantula point. In the summer when every break on the coast was under 3 feet, Tarantula was triple overhead.  During the fall huge tarantula spiders migrate across the road and you can see them and pick them up.  Every day from November to March, Tarantula point breaks from fifteen feet to greater than fifty feet in size, all wrapped up in a huge triangular peak that a surfer can ride right or left.  The left breaks bigger and longer and Big D goes there and surfs alone.  ‘Why do you surf alone in shark infested water,” asks Wracks?  Big D says, “I hate crowds.”  The Wracks never had the guts and just watches.    Jalama Lompoc sits arithmetically, in the center of the red triangle of death.   On these beaches, up to Pismo beach, and particularly Jalama, the biggest great white sharks on the west coast up to Alaska, lurk just outside the area where the waves break and take advantage of the upwelling phenomenon that brings in bait fish, to gorge on albacore, seals and in a pinch, humans dressed as seals in black wetsuits.  When Wrack goes to Jalama, he mostly watches because intuition tells him danger floats in the water and looks at him.  Wracks also does not like the cold water that turns a humans head blue after one hour in a full length 5-millimeter wet suit, while being doused by breakers over ten feet. The cold water keeps the sharks friendly but the fisherman in the area say they are there.   Wracks has never seen a shark at Jalama or at Tarantula point but local inhabitants tell him that if he sits on the beach long enough with binoculars, a thirty foot long plus great white shark with a  six foot dorsal fin will break the surface or breach in front of them.  None of the local wave riders  surf in these waters. When Wracks surfs the beach break reef, north of Tarantula point, he would occasionally see the kelp forest heave upward as if a huge object swims underneath.  Great white sharks do come into kelp forests to hunt prey and the kelp forest at Jalama and Point Conception forms the only barrier between surfers and huge hulking predators.   The long expanse of pristine shoreline, with beautiful undulating green water, vast kelp forests, abutting a craggy and beautiful coastline, hides a garden of death.  Egg man took Wracks to Jalama one day in the summer when the entire coastline held no swell and mirrored flat as a gridiron.  Tarantula point that day breaks at eight to ten feet of hollow turning tubes.  Egg man thought again and decided not to surf that day.  “Why aren’t you going out,’ asked Wracks.  “There appears to be no one on the beach for twenty miles in either direction,’ let’s go home.”

Why does Jalama Lompoc live in the imagination of Wracks?  The reason breeds thus:  The Point conception area boasts the largest and most perfectly shaped waves in the world.  The negative scares as cold water, huge waves and hungry, hovering predators that create nightmares.   Rumor has it that the most perfect wave in existence lays at the tip of Point Argüelles and that the biggest reef break on the planet, “Perko’s” sits between Point Argüelles and Point conception. A Wrack only imagines.   Perko’s breaks larger then tarantula point.  Wracks never has surfed them and probably never will  The thought of surfing Little Drakes wakes up Wracks in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat, awe and hunger. The Riddler got into the ranch and surfs Drakes.  The Riddler has disappeared and his legacy lives on as a quandary and story tossed around an opium pipe late at night, in a cabana, in the trench at Pang Oh.  The Ridler has gone, Hamilton has gone, and only Butch Van Artsdale lives on. Wracks sits up, late at night, with a laptop, and transcribes his thoughts to a testament meant to inspire and also warn the next generation of intrepid wave riders in search of a thrill and self-actualization.  The weather seems good up North.  Water flows, birds sing, and life abounds in contrast to the vast colonized desert to the south.  Another day passes, the children become adults, the world turns, online gaming abounds, and the imagination of the one brims full of tales, adventure, speculation and more.

What is Antimatter?

Antimatter can be thought of as the opposite of matter, or matter that has properties to opposite or contra-positive of the normal steady state.  In a simplistic fashion, antimatter can have anti-protons that have the same mass as a proton but the charge of an electron, anti-neutrons: neutrons that have no charge but an opposite or out of phase wave associated with it, and anti-electrons which have the same mass as electrons but a positive charge. In a more real and concrete interpretation, antimatter has the same properties as matter but in a 180 degree out of phase wave nature associated with it.  For example, an anti-electron will have the same mass and charge as an electron but an opposite wave function.   It may happen that, an antimatter particle, colliding with a matter particle will annihilate and release energy in the electromagnetic spectrum equivalent to the equation energy equals mass times the speed of light squared.  A gram of hydrogen annihilating another gram of anti-hydrogen could be said to liberate approximately ten to the ninth power joules of energy in a microsecond burst.  This amount of energy released per unit time is astounding and may be used for producing work because of its magnitude.

Physics of antimatter annihilation

An antiparticle of given mass can annihilate another particle of matter of the same atomic weight.  To use dissimilar particles of mass and anti-mass results in an equivalent of a fissile.  Using like particles of anti-matter and matter brings wave functions that are 180 degrees out of phase into proximity for capture and annihilation. Bringing mass a1 and antimass a2 together in a magnetic field long enough, annihilation will occur.   The reaction of plutonium fission can be likened in a tangential way to reacting antimatter with matter in the sense that the two components of the reaction must be held together for a minimum amount of time for the reaction to ensue or the elements will quickly separate and the reaction quench. In a fission bomb, plutonium wedges must be held together to initiate a chain reaction. In annihilation, two particles of matter, anti and real must be collided and maintained in union for annihilation to proceed.  In a fusion reaction the constituents must be held together in a relativistic environment or the constituents may separate and the reaction fails.  In nuclear physics all reactions must be brought to relativistic state for the event to proceed.  This is because, nuclear reactions only occur under very special circumstances.  

Antimatter can be contained in a near vacuum within a magnetic field as long as matter opposite to the atomic number of the antimatter is not brought into proximity.  Two like but opposite particles of matter share the same mathematical but opposite properties making equivalence real.   For example: an atom of hydrogen antimatter under real conditions will not normally react with an iron atom because of the dissimilarity of mass and the shielding of the nucleus by barrier particles.  These will only react at relativistic conditions found only in nature at the center of a sun or neutron star.  This is the big bang of a dying star.

Production of antimatter

Antimatter can be produced on earth by spinning particles or atoms in a tokomak until the particles change nature at the speed of light.  Matter spun in a circle at the speed of light eventually changes character and can be siphoned off with magnets and contained in a vacuum.

On chemical scale, reactions are either exothermic or endothermic and have an activation plateau to achieve for initiation.  On a nuclear level, the constituents much be brought to a relativistic state before the reaction can proceed.    A relativistic state happens when matter is brought to the speed of light. A relativistic state occurs when transuranic elements are brought in high concentrations in close proximity.  The combined mass is inherently unstable and the atom fissions at the speed of light.    In a relativistic environment, matter can change into energy and back again as the wave function is similar.  Accelerating mass to the speed of iight produces relativity when matter is accelerated in a circle in a powerful magnetic field.  This is because anything moving in a circle at near the speed of light becomes the speed of light due to the linear velocity of an object revolving in a circle.  VSub *t   = AsubR / radius.  

Passing energy through various crystal lattices changes the frequency of the energy in the electromagnetic spectrum

Uses of Antimatter

At present no way exists to realize the great amount of energy liberated in a microsecond by the reaction of antimatter.  It may be possible to store antimatter in an evacuated bottle in a magnetic field.  It might be found that antimatter can coexist with matter as long as the two are not brought to a relativistic state.  In fission reaction unstable matter disintegrates into more stable forms with the release of energy.  A fusion condition will extinguish when the relativistic environment no longer exists.  Antimatter reactions progress to complete annihilation under the proper conditions.    Antimatter energy will power starships to different galaxies and fuel huge and create awesome lasers and particle weapons.  The harnessing of antimatter energy will provide the means to transgress time and the warp as envisioned by Albert Einstein.  Energy can be converted to specific forms such as gravity waves and the essence of time itself.

On a positive note

The universal field equation may become a plausible reality

Who is at the door asks the Wracks, it is after dinner.   I’ll go see.

Tell the Fuller brush man we don’t need any merchandise says father Wracks.

Its me says Kool, alive and well and I want you to come along for a ride. 

I haven’t heard of any parties says the Wracks.

I need a shotgun says Kool to pick up some merchandise.   I feel safer if I don’t go alone insists Kool

What are you going to get says the Wracks

A Q Z says Kool, it will be quick and easy.  They are professionals

All right says the Wracks, I don’t know any better

Wracks and Kool embark in the brown and yellow fully camperized Volkswagen van that his father had bought him.   He puts the car in gear and they exit bacon way.  

Look in the glove and see what I have says Kool

Wracks opens the glove compartment and pulls out a jet-black two-inch barrel Smith and Wesson thirty-eight special.  

Its loaded says the Wracks.   What are you going to use it for.

In case things get rough, just pull out the gun and blast them says Kool

I am not going to jail for murder one says the Wracks.   You blast em.

Yeah dah voy says Kool.   Yeah dah voy.

Down the one to the ten and soon the two are in an opulent section of West Los Angeles stuffed and festooned with endless two-story apartment buildings all sitting in manicured residential neighbor hoods. Kool pulls to an empty parking space and inserts naturally and the two exit the car and enter a group of apartments.

This is the one says Kool, 2202, apartment 10 second floor.  Let’s go, we are invited.

They climb the stairs and knock on apartment 10.  A Hispanic man of average height with wavy black hair opens the door.  He is dressed in jeans with a workers rayon shirt.  He has a Texas style silver belt buckle and the television is on and two others are watching intently smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. 

My name is Paul says the man.   Come on in.  I have been expecting you.   What can I do for you says Paul.

I would like to talk to you in private says Kool and the two walk into the other room.   Wracks walks over to the sofa near the television and looks in and the two Mexican Americans look back at him an ask him if he wants a beer. 

No thanks says the Wracks, I am on business.

Suit yourself says one of the other guys and they go back to watching a drama police show.

Kool and Paul reappear and Paul says to the Wracks, I have something I want you to see.   Go to apartment 15 and knock three times.   The wracks says goodbye and they walk over to the brown apartment door and knock three times.  A Mexican American man in jeans and tee shirt with new adidas sneakers lets them in and the Wracks beholds an amazing sight.   The entire apartment is filled with bricks of Marijuana all wrapped in pick toilet paper stacked head high.

Want to buy any pot asks the man?   All you can smoke.

I don’t have any money says the Wracks.   Kool, do you want any pot.   It looks like commercial grade green marijuana all bound in kilograms. 

No says Kool.   I have bought something else

If you ever need any pot, you know where to come.   Just talk to Paul first.  

Thank you very much, it was nice meeting you says the Wracks

Adios, says the man as he closes the door behind them

Well did you get what you came for asks the Wracks?

I will soon see says Kool and he show the Wracks an automobile trunk key, holding it up int the dark night.  We are looking for a light brown Ford Granada says Kool.   Help me find it.

There it is down the street about one hundred feet away says the Wracks.

Let’s go find it says Kool.

They slowly walk to the car and Kool goes to the trunk inserts the key and opens it.   In the trunk is a small brown bindle covered in butcher paper with white string as a bow.  He takes the package, throws the key in the trunk. Closes the trunk and directly walks away.   Back at his brown and yellow van, he throws the package under the seat and speaks.  Get in, we are done here.

What’s in the package asks the Wracks?

Blow!    Pure crystal blow from Bolivia, uncut, and a lot of it.

What are you going to do with all that coke says the Wracks?   Cut it and sell it and give it to the girls.   They go wild over the stuff.  

Girls like coke says Wracks, why is that so?

They like it more than men.    

It is so expensive; it is out of my market says the Wracks.

If I see you later, I will give you a line.   We are almost back to your house.

Kool pulls up to the front of the Wracker house and says thank for being shotgun. There are going to be a lot of happy people tonight.  What are you going to do.

Study like I always do.   I don’t have an inheritance; I have to accept a career.

I will see you soon says Kool, have a good night. And he puts the car in reverse and heads off into the darkness.  The Wracks goes to the front oak door with marble centerpiece, inserts the key and is in the hallway with the big mirror and father is smoking cigarettes, and eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream.

How was it asks father.   Was it worth it

It was a simple drug score with the big league and I don’t fit in. 

You are who you associate with says father Wracker.

I am going to study says the Wracks, and the room is empty and the simple cheap desk with Formica top appears with the tensor reading lamp and the Wracks lights a cigarette and starts to read.  Time goes by and he looks up at the big clock and it is late and sleep awaits.   Tomorrow is another day.