Melody Pond got her brain wired in correctly this morning. All the plugs run to all the right pumps. She is no longer frigid. She is warm and welcoming. And I've been in her three times today. Wait, does that sound bad? Too bad. I've waited all of my adult life to have my own hot tub on my own back porch, and I'm going to take advantage of it at every opportunity now that I have one. It was purely coincidental that I had to wait until I was in middle age with a diagnosis of lupus to finally justify the effort and expense (albeit greatly discounted in this case) of acquiring and running one. If this doesn't help significantly with my constant pain, nothing will. Or maybe that isn't the case...
I went to a local film festival tonight. I had memories of South Park running through my head at the idea of attending a small town in Colorado film festival, specifically of Eric Cartman insisting that all independent films were essentially about gay cowboys eating pudding. Tonight's offerings were far more interesting. The first very short film was a memory piece called Pondwing, by a guy with local ties who also worked for Skywalker Ranch for a while. He talked about finding a pond on the ranch that reminded him of his grandfather's spread in North Texas, and tied it charmingly to the scene in Empire Strikes Back with Luke's X-wing fighter crashed in the swamps of Dagobah. When he appeared at the front for questions, he cited his biggest influences in film making as Ray Harryhausen (of the Sinbad series and the original Clash of the Titans, both of which I loved as a child) and a professor at CU named Stan Brakhage (whom I adored as a freshman in his intro to film studies class). The next film was an animated music video called Boomerang, by a man who lives in/near Humbolt County California, which I have been told is somewhat of a cannabis growing hub. The film and the song were phenomenally good, and I hope to be able to download the song sometime soon. And then the themed films for the night appeared.
The first was from an 18 year old who lives in a neighboring town called Bulletproof Karma, about a man whose aggressively growing brain tumor was stopped and shrunk with CBD oil and a clean diet. The second, longest feature of the night was called Rolling Papers, and it followed the entire first year of legal recreational pot sales in Colorado. It was absolutely fascinating. It centered around Ricardo Baca, the head of the cannabis department for the Denver Post, and his staff of pot critics, investigative journalists, photographers, and columnists. It talked about city council meetings, hyperbole in the press, state issues like Child Protective Services, competitions, lack of regulations (at the time) for edibles, and even an extended act set in Uruguay where cannabis was nationally decriminalized and regulated that year. They had specially branded sets of rolling papers printed up and set on each seat in the venue as handouts, and I grabbed a couple extras to give away to friends and family. I can't use them myself, since smoking anything at all is frowned upon for lupus patients. But I came away with an altered perspective and a lot of food for thought. All in all a very productive evening.
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