The Voyage from SAC to SF to SC | The Adventure in Sound | Fucking Tourettes Productions

The Voyage from SAC to SF to SC

Hung over and readjusting after a late night drive back and forth from Sac to Grassvalley back to Sac. My head ache decided to subside, the road beckoned.

said my farewells to Sacramento, hopped into the Subaru and headed back to San Francisco to drop off the captured audio. Making sure that multiple copies of the media exist. It sucks when you loose shit...I’ve learned this the hard way, a few times.

Back on Highway 80, I got bored of driving with the herd so I veered off and got lost on the back roads. Pulled over in the middle of nowhere and played guitar for an hour or so. Kinda just took in the breath of the sights, relax,

Coming through Berkley, on an over pass was a giant upside down American flag alongside was a banner that advocated for the freedom of a certain someone that I couldn’t completely catch. It made me feel at home, especially after being in Sac and Grassvalley where patriotism, and American pride is high. Sometimes I think being a citizen of this country comes with a load of guilt, knowing that you were born into a civilization that plans to span and grow with out limits, like a corporation, always thinking of the benefits for itself.....Knowing that there is a side of the coin that is set on the adjusting morals of our ways, and fine tuning the evil of an empire, remembering that humans are humans, and that is a good thing to remember.

Ahh San Francisco, you will always be my mistress, though through life I’m sure i will have many affairs with many other metropolitans, you will always be my firstest.


Back in the city I saw that the police had set up camp on Mission street. There was a new police cheif being sworn in the next couple weeks who was suppose to clean up the system, on top of being an election year coming up and the mayor Mr. Newsom runing for governor puts SF under the microscope, and all combined with the record of no homicides in the Mission District to date this year(that may have changed in the recent dog days of summer)Had the cops on full alert.


Around dark I departed for Santa Cruz. As I love doing I drove down Highway one. Which is one of the most beautiful drives night or day. The fresh ocean air, the sound of waves crashing. the lighthouse, the memories, the light traffic (at night). Before I hit “Devil’s Slide” I decided to go by the house in which I originally wrote the sum of the movie script that had consumed my life in the recent years.


A small little cottage on Freemont street where my aunts, granparents, and father had resided for much of their lives. I had the privilege and curse which had led me to take up residence here for about four or five months. At which time i worked at a movie theater during the afternoon, worked on the house at night and in the morning, painting, sheet rocking, cleaning the lifes collection of things my relatives deemed not worth keeping on to. This was the nightmare that provoked me to write the story in which a man with a clinical mental illness finds himself in a house that he inherited from his recently deceased mother. Already a prisoner of the house the man due to his illness the man now finds himself a complete prisoner during the rise of the living dead, which he has prepared himself for. Creature comforts, living on the roof of his house with talking road kill, still taking his meds, he is enveloped into a world that no longer has use for the current being of humans, and the rest of the story is not to be told at this time. I got into Santa Cruz late. My brother and his better half (Ai) were watching cable as late night tends towards in the suburban Santa Cruz. Hello and Goodnight, and we’d all see each other in the morning.DSC02330