Scraping Genetic Stuff  I'm driving my roommate Stephen Ramos' colorful car. He is talking about how to start it. I think he is full of shit. He is always talking about how you have to do the right things to get the car started. I'm with my friend Sarah Miller at the house of Steve Baylor, a man I used to deliver the newspaper to in Oak Valley. This house is also the location where my aunt Nisa Redding used to live on 3rd Street in Wilmerton. Both houses are green. Sarah is looking for a place to rent. There is a man and a boy outside the house. A "For Sale" sign is by the house. We talk to the people. There are eight bedrooms in the house. There is tall wavy grass that stands straight up. It is very neat and trim. I say that the rent must be around $2,000. We walk back towards the white house next to Steve's house and sit down in two small wooden chairs. We are going to be pulled in the chairs across the snow, which is on Steve's side of the lawn. The grass is on the neighbor's lawn. Sarah, who may be male, picks the head off a flower. There is a man or boy on some kind of motorized vehicle. He takes off on the vehicle, pulling Sarah. I take my chair and go to the sidewalk. They meet me on the sidewalk. I am being pushed by the vehicle, while sitting up on a small wood chair in front of it. Genetic stuff is being scraped off or away while I am being pushed. A person I know from grade school that lives down the road from where we are, Don Olson, is pulling Sarah and pushing me. We talk about fishing. The Olson family is gone. Something happens with an Italian food dish, maybe lasagna, but is starts with an "A".