Mountains, cars and coconuts

As y'all have no doubt noticed, it's been nearly three weeks since I've blogged. No doubt some fans of The Secret were hoping that the inactivity on Whirled Musings was due to the influence of their collective powerful intentions. Perhaps they were even beginning to believe that my absence was permanent – and good riddance to all of my horrid negativity and hate-mongering, some were probably thinking.

I am truly sorry to disappoint them, but I'm back.

Actually, the Rev and I got back home late last week, but we have had so much catching up to do that blogging, alas, had to take a backseat. As I mentioned in a previous post, we took a road trip up to Montana to see a new client. Not only were we preoccupied with the logistics of the trip and with our new project, but, unfortunately, our ancient notebook computer refused to let us avail ourselves of the many wi-fi hotspots now available in even the remotest parts of the country. Curiously enough, dial-up didn't work either, which, I imagine, is the Universe's way of telling us we need to replace the notebook asap. So we barely had a chance to check email, to say nothing of blogging.

Beyond the connectivity challenges, our trip was a true Wild West adventure, or at least the modern-day equivalent thereof. The Rev says that if someone had told him, before the trip, that he'd end up driving 80 miles an hour over slick roads with blowing snow and wind gusts of over 40 mph, he'd have thought they were crazy. But if you don't drive 80 or faster through some parts of Wyoming, the other drivers will run over you.

Ironically, the weather we encountered was not nearly as crappy as the weather we left. Up in the mountains it was, as they say, a "dry cold," and an invigorating one at that, whereas the Bayou City and other parts of Texas got the miserably wet cold. And I am happy to say that despite the ice, blowing snow, and mountainous terrain, we did very well on the way up to God's Country and back. This was due not only to the Rev's skillful driving but to our wonderful 2000 Honda Odyssey mini-van, which made it there and back again with no complaint, getting up to 30 miles per gallon (!), despite the rugged conditions and the fact that it was loaded down with three weeks' worth of food and survival gear (which, fortunately, we didn't have to use).

And we found the people up in the Rockies to be friendly and warm, even in Colorado, where for many good reasons they hate Texans, though they hate Californians even more (but not as much as the people in Montana hate Californians). Having been a Coloradan myself, and then a Texan, and then a Coloradan again before I once more became a Texan, I have experienced Rocky Mountain Texaphobia firsthand. On this trip, I am pleased to say, our Texas license plates didn't attract gunfire, "the finger," or even so much as a sneer, at least not that I could discern.

I've been in Texas most of my life but spent my early years in Wyoming, Montana and Colorado, and they left an imprint that won't go away. Once you have been, as Canadian singer-songwriter Bruce Cockburn put it, "cut by the beauty of jagged mountains," you are scarred for life. There's no hope and no help for it, except to eventually go back to where the mountains are, to where there are real seasons, and where rain smells like rain instead of being infused with that curious fish-and-silver-polish smell it has on the Gulf Coast. And in case you've never been to Montana, let me assure you that it does live up to its name as Big Sky Country; the Rev's pic (above) of a sunrise over an area just outside of Helena only hints at the vastness.

It's not that I wouldn't miss Texas a whole bunch, if I were living back "up there." I'd no doubt miss living in the semi-tropics; I would long for the extended swimming-pool season, and the ability to wear sun dresses and flip-flops almost all year round. Maybe the Rev and I should winter down here and summer up there. (Or, given the sucky winter we've been having down here, maybe we'll winter in Costa Rica, and just do spring and fall here.)

At any rate, I'm officially back now, or at least part of me is, and, furthermore, I'm not finished with making fun of The Secret – not by a long shot. It's just that there are so many other things to make fun of too. I hardly know where to begin. But seeing as how I just got back from a long car (or van) trip, and just yesterday I received a car-related email from my favorite new-age spam service – talk about synchronicity! – I'll extend the Secretrons' reprieve for a little while longer.

The email in question bore the subject line, "Your Car, Your Sexuality." Well, that's pretty well-trod territory, so I nearly deleted the email without reading it. But then I saw that that the message was actually from Florida psychic Frances Fox, whom I've written about before, and she always has something new to say. So I read on.

"Your car issues are a map to your sexual issues," Frances asserts. And she should know; she has done a whole lot of studying on the matter, and her research goes far beyond the old car-as-phallic symbol stuff. Oh, sure, we're all familiar with the cliché about the middle-aged guy who buys a $150,000 red sports car named Francine an expensive sports car to compensate for his inadequacies, and then brags nonstop about it on every public forum imaginable. That's old hat. According to Frances, though, it's not just middle-aged men whose "issues" are reflected in their cars. It's all of us. And if we clear our car's aura, we can go a long way towards fixing our issues, whatever they may be.

In her groundbreaking new Flash animation, Frances spells out some of the problems people have with their sexuality, and how those problems are reflected in their cars. Naturally, Frances has just the advice – and the products – to help clear away all of those problems. You owe it to yourself, your car, and your sex partner(s) to follow this link. If you gain nothing else, you will at least learn how to feng shui your car, which is even better, and almost certainly more evolved, than pimping your ride.

Frances Fox, I must say, is a veritable fount of information. In that very same email, I also learned that coconuts are extraordinarily powerful tools for enhancing sexuality, as well as for warding off negative entities. Frances' research has revealed that "coconut has the vibrations of joy and fun. Coconut essence is also good for people who disassociate." It seems the vibes of this hairy tropical fruit are incompatible with negative vibes; negative entities simply cannot occupy the same space as a coconut.

Frances discovered this startling truth while consuming a Coke mixed with Malibu rum, the latter of which has the flavor of coconut, she says. "As I was drinking the rum and Coke, my chest started to feel strange," she writes. At first she thought she was having a heart attack, but the strange feeling passed. This happened repeatedly, till she realized that maybe she had a drinking problem. No, actually she was looking at the label on the bottle of coconut essence that she sells, and it dawned on her that coconut vibes are incompatible with negativity. Apparently she was still carrying some negativity, which happened to be attached to her chest.

My initial thought was that perhaps this was the fault of her plastic surgeon; I understand that Florida is a hotbed of botched boob jobs. But Frances says that the strange feeling was the result of the coconut vibes warring with her negativity vibes. So she now sprays her coconut essence all over her body and in her car to ward off that negativity:

Obviously, I am now using the Flores de Isis Coconut Spray on my body and continue to enjoy coconut every opportunity I get. I am, also, officially adding the Coconut Spray to the kit for house and aura clearing. I now know, from personal experience, that entities have a hard time sharing space with the vibrations of the coconut. And while we’re at it, why don’t we all place a real coconut on our desks, or next to our beds? You can never have too much of a good thing.

Negative entities have a hard time sharing space with the vibrations of the coconut. I am now aware that cultures that believe in negative spirits and exorcisms often use a coconut to flush out bad spirits.

And there's more good news: If there are no coconuts where you live, you can buy a bottle of Coconut Spray directly from Frances. Use it in your car, along with the other products in Frances' special Flower Essences kit, and not only will you clear away all negativity from your chest and other bodily parts, but your sex life will improve dramatically. And your car will love you for it.

It's good to be back.