If it won't reach...stretch.

Since 1952, the population of the United States has doubled. If I said that in the past sixty years the population of my living room doubled, that would not be cause for alarm. I don't compete with the inhabitants of my living room for survival. We collaborate.

But America is not my living room.

Americans in 1952: 157,552,740

Americans in 2012: 312,901,000

Twice as many Americans competing for a sense of belonging and identity. Twice as many humans who need to be fed, clothed, sheltered, enlightened, amused and loved.

What does that mean for artists?

81% of Americans say they would like to write a novel one day. On average, .0005 percent of Americans actually make a living as writers.

In 1952, 70,000 Americans called themselves professional writers. Today 152,000 Americans get paid to string words together to inform, entertain and challenge the masses.

Twice as many workers competing for less revenue from twice as many customers.

An increase in readers does not increase the demand for new books. A thousand books can just as effectively stimulate a million people as a billion people. Technology further allows fewer writers to reach more people.

So take solace, writers: We are less valuable to America than ever before.

We are free.

Here are two recent expressions of my freedom:

1) a collection of new work called "If it won't reach...stretch," a pocket-sized reader featuring contemporary poetry, fiction, essay and comics by a diverse group of people who have at least one thing in common: They are friends of mine.

To browse the book, or buy a copy, follow this link: If it won't reach...stretch.

2) "Yeah lovin' it," a spin-off of Real San Francisco exclusively featuring pictures of McDonald's trash I saw on the ground.

Visit here yeahlovinit.tumblr.com then use the Submit link to send your own pictures of McDonald's trash and I'll put them on the site.

More people means more hamburgers, more trash, fewer book deals, fewer summer homes for authors. Welcome to the Free Market. I'm free at last.

Da Bomb

High above the city of Pacifica, California, the self-professed foggiest city in the world, sits Milagra Ridge, home of decommissioned NIKE missile launch site SF-51L. Here, 400 yards from a young housing development, two cemented-over launch pads for nuclear tipped ground-to-ground missiles are gradually being reclaimed by grass, underbrush...and now, moss.

Click the video below to see a slideshow of mossymossy's day trip to Milagra Ridge, with some special thanks to the Gap Band!


Visit a mossy softness for more!

Love Guns

Thank you to our friends back east for sending pictures of the blizzard of 2011! Our condolences go out to the Daniel family in Chicago...



And to my dad and Audrey's family back in Indiana...


And to anyone who had to commute yesterday on Lake Shore Drive:


Yes, the weather has been extraordinary here as well. Why, it dipped all the way down into the 60s yesterday! We almost had to bundle up for our picnic at Battery Townsley!


While planning our picnic, we researched possible uses for old nuclear missile silos. At Fort Cronkhite, the Marine Mammal Center is using decommissioned NIKE missile silo SF-87L for the storage of veterinary supplies.


Up the hill from Fort Cronkhite, embedded in the coastal cliffs, lies a massive firing platform constructed during the build-up to WWII for the placement of large guns to defend the Golden Gate from a Pacific attack. This is Battery Townsley.


On July 1, 1940, the first 16-inch round ever fired from the Pacific Coast of the continental United States was fired from Battery Townsley. The battery sits idle now, quietly acquiescing to the salt, wind and fog.

Mossy Mossy thanks you for your service, Battery Townsley. And we heart you!


To see more from Mossy Mossy's visit to Battery Townsley, visit A Mossy Softness!

A Salute From Fort Ord

Sunny days and cool breezes off Monterey Bay. Cyprus, sage brush and sardines.

Kind of makes you want to shoot something, doesn't it?

For seventy-seven years, Fort Ord was the most desirable domestic assignment in the U.S. Army. It's idyllic location meant reliably awesome weather, gorgeous scenery, fresh, local brussels sprouts and artichokes and delicious seafood year round.

Many a lazy afternoon was spent by many an American boy firing live rounds of artillery over the wind swept plains and soft rolling, seaside hills surrounding the Fort's clapboard bunkhouses.

Jimi Hendrix did his basic training at Fort Ord. Clint Eastwood and Jerry Garcia both once called the Fort home. A portion of the base was set aside in the 1980s as the first federal nature reserve designated for the protection of an insect, the Smith's Blue Butterfly.


When the Army decommissioned Fort Ord in 1994, the coastal artillery range and beachhead were designated toxic Superfund sites due to excessive lead dust (from the bullets) and the prominence of unexploded blow-uppery of various kinds.

A brief, lawsuit-worthy attempt at remediation by the Army followed, and the area was converted into a State Park in 2009.

Today most of the area is still poisoned.

The California coast is littered with relics of war. Echoes in the agriculture remind me of the cost paid by so many so I could walk here free today. I am thankful for their sacrifice. And I hope for a day when we can more easily sacrifice our pride than our children. I hope for a section of this earth to one day be set aside for the preservation of humanity.

I understand war is necessary. I just don't believe it is necessary as often as we are told. And when I see the bare feet of my neighbors' children running care free through the lead-poisoned sand of the Fort Ord dunes, I wonder with what sincerity our government is working to keep us free.

But they are busy, I know.

So we all must do our part.

A Salute to Fort Ord from Mossy Mossy!


For more photos of Mossy Mossy's day trip to Fort Ord, visit A Mossy Softness.