2/17
Dell actually laid some people
off. Digging through this article,
though, I found some interesting ways to look at, since 1998, Dell has added
over 10,000 positions locally, and now they cut 1,700. That still looks like
a gain, over time. Progress marches forward. Naturally, I'm worried about getting
cut, too, but cut out from what? The Neighbor called me up early yesterday morning,
"Hey, what's for lunch?" I mumbled incoherently into the phone, "c'mon,
it's noon already, why are you still asleep?" Because I didn't get home
from Planet Houston until after 2:00 AM, the night before, that's why. Lunch
was a late affair at the Texas Chili Parlor, perfect for a cold day. On the
way home, I stopped at the bank, and tried to chase down the missing deposit.
No luck, thus far. Mercury? Maybe just a teller's mistake.
2/16
Crummy weather always reminds me of Houston. Moist, humid, damp, dripping, wet,
warm, hot, is humid in there, too? We got off to a late start, which meant I
had more time to answer mail and turn in a last minute rewrite. Shows what was
on my mind, I was humming "Volcano," and somehow, that showed up in
the rewrite. Got to Houston. Had dinner at Don [apostrophe] Key in Pasadena,
just down the street from where the old Gilley's used to be. I was wondering
why there wasn't a state historical marker for that one. I noticed one other
thing, too, it costs a lot of money to ride around in Houston. There are toll
roads everywhere, or so it seems, 50 cents to exit. It wound up costing us over
8 bucks in tolls alone. We rolled into the arena, staggered to our premium seats,
relaxed, and enjoyed the show. To start out the second set, Jimmy Buffet replayed
the tape of him getting expelled from a basketball game, and quoted some national
morning news commentator, "She said, 'Singer/songwriter Jimmy Buffet didn't
change his attitude so the referee changed Jimmy's latitude.'" Then, in
reference to the recent passing of Dale Evans, Jimmy did one of Lyle Lovett's
song's. At least twice, after the intermission, Jimmy entertained with nothing
more than his songs and a guitar. That, in and of itself, was pretty amazing
considering it was sold out arena. The weather turned bad for the ride home,
and I was driving in pouring rain, navigating the little truck down dark highways.
For amusement, I counted crossing the Colorado River five times, after turning
off the interstate. And cold, the cold weather was back in Austin by the time
we rolled in.
2/15
I don't see how some folks manage to take time out from their office schedule
to update their personal web sites. It took me a whole day to do nothing more
than routine maintenance on just one site. Of course, it was VD [Valentine's
Day], and it was an office full of attractive women. "Yeah, got to watch
that Kramer, he just poses as being sensitive, he's really a heartless worm,"
suggested the Taurus. Everything gets put on hold today, I'm off to see the
lizard, Jimmy Buffet, live in Houston, Texas. [The good lord willing and the
creek don't rise, that is.] Toys, now, I like toys, and there should a be a
few toys arriving soon enough. I shouldn't shop when Mercury is backwards, but
there were just a few things that I absolutely needed. Not big things, more
like stuff that is required for work. Okay, so it's a little boring, but one
day in the office can pay for lots of fun stuff. It's just the bone weary exhaustion
from working under that fluorescent light thing, after only one day of work,
it takes me two or three days to recover....
2/14
Happy VD.
Good, got that out of the way. Yesterday, I called to cancel one cell phone,
straighten out yet another billing problem, and get another phone hooked up.
So far, 1 cell phone is off, but the new one isn't hooked up yet. And the billing
problem is yet unresolved. Then, I called the bank to find out where a deposit
went — lost in space. Funny thing, this one of the deposits I carried in
and was counted by an attractive teller [why I remember]. Last night, after
spending all day with computers going up in smoke, the folks who were going
to call didn't, and the folks who weren't going to call got through, then the
date last night was canceled at the last minute, and it's all a bunch of Mercury
backwards. I hitched myself up to Magnolia. I wasn't sure that it was my destination,
but it's where I wound up. Passing the Continental Club, I could hear Toni Price
singing (Tuesday is Hippie Hour, now a famous deal). On the way home, there
was the smell of spring in the air, and the heavy fog from the morning never
completely lifted. Appearances are not what they seem to be. Get up and go to
work in an office filled with beautiful women. Like I said, the appearances
are not what they seem to be. But it's a break for this Halloween celebration
day. [The "girls" in the office will abide no truck from moi.] I got
around to posting the first of the animation clips, the first attempt is in
the "splash" section.
It's a pretty lame example, but the nice thing is, "Ah done it all myself."
I can hear that condescending expression now, "Did you do that all by yourself?
You're so, well, manly."
2/13
"[Feb. 13] Feast Day of St. Agabus, a fortune teller and contemporary of
Jesus; St. Agabus later became the Patron Saint of soothsayers." This story
made me laugh. Something quirky and weirdly California about it all. Then I
checked my 'in box.' Yesterday morning was a feeding frenzy [listening to too
much Buffet?]. 100+ messages before noon. A red headed friend of mine, old friend
of the family from way back when, picked me up and we were off to have some
lunch at Curra's. On the way there, seeing the Construction Cranes looming over
downtown, I was bemoaning the changes in the local landscape. "The only
thing that doesn't change is plastic flowers," she said. Ran into some
friends having lunch, and that made for a much lighter afternoon. [Puerco Adobo,
muy goodo.] Still, the retrograde Mercury and Sun conjunction really had folks
going, or they got me going. The lingering question of when to stop caring took
a little extra time to answer, but in one situation, and given the long history,
it's a person who just [my judgment call] wants someone to feel sorry for her.
I'm happy to do that — standard
rates apply, available by the hour, normal business hours. And yes, on occasion,
I've answered a client's e-mail after midnight, but that's different because
that's something that I choose to do, it's not like it is forced on me. There
were two, strictly speaking, only two correct answers out of the 100+ messages.
But after lunch, and with my resolve much worn down, it's sometimes just easier
to give something away rather than argue semantics. And the problem with that
many messages? There's always one, or two, that carry that extra jolt of pain.
Like blood dripping from a bad B-movie set, there's always one message that
has the extra hurt, packed in between the lines. What would you do?
I'm going back to pencil and paper. Mercury is still backwards.
2/12
When Mercury is backwards,
I drag out a pencil and paper, sometimes ink,
but usually just a pencil, and have good time drawing pictures and making notes
about design. Then I sit myself down and rework the web page and navigation
bar until I'm happy. The new look breaks with at least one major design rule,
but at this point, I needed something different. Late yesterday afternoon, the
Neighbor comes and knocks on my trailer's door, "BBQ?" "Sure,"
says I. Eventually, four of us pile into the front seat of truck, and although
I do believe that four in the front is illegal, it was Sunday, and nobody was
looking. Hey, it's the Lord's Day, forgive our sins, and all that. It's probably
been 20 years since I was at the Salt
Lick, in Driftwood, Texas. Used to be a long ways out of town, but with
urban sprawl, it's just at the edge of the metropolis now. Or at the edge of
some suburban sprawl subdivision, anyway. Now, for the taste test, it is still
wonderful, with the moist brisket, and the tender, most thoughtfully seasoned
pork ribs I've had in a long time. Still a winner, and it looks like parts of
the building haven't been repaired since the last time I was there. "XBQ!"
The Neighbor was screaming, "Extreme Barbecue!" Earlier, I was reading
a book by Christopher Cook, local author [according to the blurb], called "Robbers."
Fun
bit of crime fiction. In a bit of foreshadowing, and a literary reference,
one character is talking to a clerk in a bookstore, and asks about Elmore Leonard's
books, the response is along the lines of, "You can't tell the good guys
from the bad guys, sometimes." The opening sequence, too, is literally
set right around the corner from where I live. Very factual. Next time I'm on
the trail to Barton Springs, I'll be looking for evidence of the crime scene.
Late last night, the question came up when I got panic call from a client. Where
do I stop caring? after 11 at night? Is that a reasonable time? And when did
my job description make me a miracle worker, as if a quick consultation with
an astrologer will fix everything wrong in a person's life. Problem being, the
way I see the stars, it's about personal responsibility. You stepped in it,
you got to wipe it off your boot yourself. Ain't my job to fix what you done
did.
2/11
After a couple of days of typical, warm weather, the little cold snap, with
below freezing temperatures has left me and the cat unsettled. I should've known,
though, that this was going to happen. No sooner do I pull the flannel sheets
off the bed than it gets cold all over again. I was poking through some other
web logs, as this is a good way to get a feeling for the times, what with the
planets in evil disarray and all, and I followed some links back to the "South
By" hook & grid
for next month. Last year, I got teased for attending a workshop on the way
the pornography sites work, but using a remarkably similar business model, iVillage's
astrology section, and
the women.com's AstroNet
are very profitable web sites. The similarity is in the business model, and
it's a successful one. Maybe there's something to be learned from the foibles
of the skin trades. Now, iVillage just merged with women.com, but that's a different
thing — the deal I'm paying attention to are the way the astrology sections
make a fistful of dollars. Unrelated: And I'm sex
– typed as "near masculine."
2/10
I got piece of regular mail from my favorite airline, Southwest.
The note said SWA was dropping their SFO gates, as the business was not profitable
and caused delays throughout their system. I wonder if this is the start of
the exodus? The light, nimble companies move first. Unrelated: Patron
Saint of the net.
2/9
This one was interesting.
So was this: "I suppose anglers want to believe in myths...." [From
the Brits.] When Mercury is backwards, I sometimes endeavor to change my
routine up, give it a gentle shake, do something different. It seems that my
morning routine of an obligatory half hour of reading various web sites can
grow into hours or more, so I hit the trail, under a moist and cloudy but warm
day, knocked off some serious miles, then as I passing by the convenience store,
Eddy was there. Eddy has no legs. And he's always friendly, upbeat, and nice.
I'll admit, I admire him — it's his forever good spirit. He's one of the
people in the world who has fallen through the cracks. He's just about homeless,
and when he's out of the hospital, it's easy to find him in front of the convenience
store. He never asks for money, and he's always got a friendly word. He accept
donations, and I'll admit, I've given to him before. We exchanged words, I bought
a Dallas newspaper, and headed on back to my trailer. As I was walking away,
he called out to me, "Hey man, you got any old shorts you want to get rid
of?" A couple of hours later, after cleaning out my closet, I took him
a grocery bag full of shorts I'll never wear again.
2/8
Ma Wetzel called me up yesterday morning to chat, and since I was on line at
the time, I suggested she hit my web
cam. Far be it for me to expect something nice like, "Oh, you look
good." Oh no, "You still need a haircut, and don't you think you should
pick up that stuff on your couch? Straighten your place up a little." From
one extreme to another. From classic opera, a little dash of West Texas Punk
[El Paso's At The Drive In], some Western Swing, and now this: Parrot
Music. Parrot HEAD Music. Next week, looks like I get to go to Houston to see
Jimmy Buffet. Mentioning that Capricorn and his music evokes one of two responses.
Either folks love it, or they harbor a certain disdain for it. Not much in between.
Me? Love it. Beach music. Light lyrics. Hawaiian shirts, a general party atmosphere.
Gulf Coast Music. It's been less than a year since I last saw him perform, and
I'm going to see him again. "All those times I offered to take you to Houston,
and you'd never go with me," said one Cap. "I'm telling you, it was
that Virgo. I like Houston, now." Besides, it only makes sense to go with
a Capricorn to see a Capricorn, a Gulf coast girl to see Gulf Coast beach music.
Figure this: at $3.99 per minute, that works out to $239.40 per hour. Makes
me look positively cheap. "To determine your Barfly name, pick the last
snack you ate and combine it with your favorite drink: Twinkie Martini, &
etc." My Barfly name: Granola Coffee?
2/7
Maybe folks will learn to listen to their astrologer. Then again, maybe not.
I warned about the tough year coming up, and at the very bottom of this article,
I found the real sticking point in some of these online companies going bust.
The web-based retail outfits that go bust are saddled with a lot of debt. That
makes them a less likely acquisition target. A few months ago, last year, if
I recall, a local web operation tanked, and then the former CEO bought the remaining
assets (technology and targeted mailing list) for his next venture — at
pennies on the dollar. And I wish I could remember the source, but the way it
works, the more successful net ventures are based on content, with retail being
a side venture. Like AOL's original form, content — retail was just happy
a side effect. Like this site,
where selling astrology readings is just a happy side business (okay, so it
pays for the server, too). Some much for prognostication, I'm fishing
for a new sponsor. Yesterday was sun, sandals, shorts. Forget this Mercurial
market analysis. And trust Magnolia to come through with a late night snack
of some sort of weirdness, just right for the time: a stuffed avocado, filled
with I don't know what, but it was tasty. Tad strange, but at 11 at night, who
cares?
2/6
Did I ever mention I don't like it when Mercury is backwards? Worse yet, I hate
taking my own advice: one red headed Capricorn was quick to point out, "Didn't
you say the next four months are going to suck for Sagittarius romance?"
Yeah, thanks honey, love you, too. I don't see any reason why I have to live
out the scopes that I write.
Different topic altogether: Women's bathing suits are now sold in halves. In
normal situation, I suppose, that's like a bikini, a top and a bottom half.
From what I've been able to determine from various shopping expeditions, women's
underwear is sold the same way. I was just wondering if there shouldn't be a
left half and right half, instead. Something to change it up. Different topic
again: Perfect weather (okay, a tad on the chilly side for my tastes), a hike
around the lake, thinking about Crawfish at the Boiling Pot (Cajun style restaurant,
and hey, it's craw dad season in Louisiana), and after six quick miles, the
darn restaurant is closed until late in the afternoon. But across the street,
there's the new location for the Empanada Parlour, and away we go. Then, because
there was no way out of it, I had to go bra shopping with a friend. There's
a specialty shop,
and she needed a certain size to fit her, and it was the afternoon, and there
was a promise of some Amy's for dessert, therefore, I acquiesced. Funniest thing
I overheard while I was patiently waiting on my friend was, "We can get
them up higher." I don't want to know. Then Amy's. Funny guy behind
the counter, he would only throw the sample ice cream at us, wouldn't hand it
to us. As we meandered southwards and homewards, my friend driving with a small
dish of ice cream in her hand, looking at the sights along the Drag, a miraculous
parking space appeared, right in front of a store she'd never been in before,
and it was one last stop at a place on the Drag. Hey, it's hard work to do nothing
all day. I think the day might have been better spent brutally abusing the help
around here. It's that layout question again. Sort of an interesting note
in yesterday's British tabloids. Even more tabloid
news — affects me.
2/5
Two shows, two completely different messages,
and two different venues. One was Saturday night, a crowded movie theater. I
saw "Traffic." What a wonderful film. Deeply evocative, and put together
in a fabulous manner. Always worried about what's going on, or about to go on,
or what's right around the next corner. And not to spoil it, but it was so nice
to see the Michael Douglas character grow some — a distinct change from
what I've seen in previous films of this ilk, especially with him [highly subjective
observation]. The other one was a local production of "Art." Which
is a fine play, excellent script, and one that I saw on stage in London a few
years ago. Now, I had two advantages here, one, I've seen it before, and two,
I've got a copy of the script itself, so I was doing some comparisons. And a
little homework before the show, cruising through the script to find that one
monologue I loved so much. It did sell out the Zach Scott Theater, but the little
room it was in, only about hundred seats or so, that wasn't a big deal. And
the play, in comparison to what I remember from the London stage, was less filled
with "testosterone" this time. Might have been me, might have been
the the "in the round" setting, but the characters didn't quite have
that "guy" edge. Of course, when adapting a play from French to English
English, and from that, to American English, I suppose there's always a chance
that something gets lost along the way. However, that one monologue I loved
did receive a hearty round of applause. And two thirds of the way through the
play, I noticed this one little, gray headed spinster looking woman, just howling
at the antics of the actors. It was one of those educated points about "Fine
Art," and, so it seemed to me, the rest of us didn't quite get it. But
behind me, almost all the way through the show, I had a someone laughing. A
lot. I just wonder about this web guys, I wonder when they spend hours at night,
tweaking my layout. Looks great in Net Scrape Six, but Internet Exploder 5 seems
to chop it up some. Not so sure I like that.
2/4
I feel like one of life's little pleasures comes from unannounced, unplanned,
completely serendipitous trips to bookstores. I had one those, yesterday afternoon,
in the midst of a terminally busy day. I found three books, all on sale, the
Sweet Potato Queen sequel, another copy (that new translation) of Beowulf, and
some kind of Western. But the strangest find (okay, so far it really isn't that
good of a book, but its astrology is sound) is Heart of Stone by Denny DeMartino
(sounds a lot like a pen name).
2/3
"Your applications is still pending, check back in about 30 minutes."
Sure, I've heard that before. "Typing for Dollars" kind of a day.
At least, with this type of ghost work, I get chance to explore strange, new
dimensions. [But these pumps are killing my feet. I honestly don't know how
women can stand to wear stiletto heels, even though, in my best piggish tone,
they sure looks good.] From surfing around the yesterday afternoon, I seemed
to note a sense of dissatisfaction with the "High Tech" industry,
the cyber geeks are all a little unhappy right now. Last year's cute is this
year's failure. I had dinner with the twin Virgo's and a Pisces with her new
puppy. No, we didn't have her puppy for dinner, that was just my thought. And
I learned that rolled up newspapers are not a "politically correct way
to train a puppy, not anymore. But for a boyfriend? Sure, that or a stun gun."
2/2
Yesterday was a cold morning with a noisy cat. Think she missed me when I was
out of town, and she must've had that persistent worry that there would be no
food, ever again. [Judging from her considerable girth, this really shouldn't
be a problem. And I was home before it was time for her late night snack —
just goes to show that some women are never happy.] The syndication check went
to the the wrong address, or so they say, as it and a 1099 form both bounced
— from a P.O. Box I haven't had in more than four years. But the paychecks
usually came right to the trailer. So much for computers that never make mistakes.
Bad news: I got to fooling around on the Apple
site, testing my "credit worthiness," and up pops a new idea for
fresh site design of my own. And I don't think many people really understand
just what I go through while managing a joke
list. On a good day, maybe half dozen jokes hit the list. Maybe a few more
in the last couple of days, but that's largely due to to the new Presidential
fodder we now have. But I have to sort through countless submissions, and hundreds
of reruns. If I've seen the joke once, unless it's really, really funny to me,
it goes in the virtual ASCII recycling station. I guess that sounds bad, but
part of this page is made from recycled text pieces.
2/1
"When you two get together, you talk about three things: food, excrement,
and horoscopes." (Ma Wetzel's response to Sister and mine's breakfast table
conversation.) It started when Sister asked me to go to church with her. Preschool
was just letting out and it brought back a flood of memories — I went to
kindergarten at this very church. Since we had Pa Wetzel's car with a handicapped
tag, instead of fighting the urge, I just took the first available space —
handicapped. "I'm male, no conflict," I told Sister, "genetically
handicapped." She groaned, but considering our goal, she had to ride it
out. We found the church's library, and she checked out some books and tapes.
I have to admit, I was right proud of how she carried herself off, signing in
under a slightly fictitious name, behaving well. Then we skated around town
a bit, winding up at Pa Wetzel's office, in the company of the Virgo. Since
he was busy, we trailed over to "Y O Ranch Steakhouse" for a quick
meal. Halfway through my BBQ platter (served by a shaved bald Libra with a close
cropped goatee), I discovered a long hair in my meal. I didn't make a fuss,
the guy was very understanding, and he just told us the meal was free. He even
insisted we have some free Banana Pudding, which he swore was "hair free."
[Actually, the meal and the dessert were great, except for that follicle garnish,
and it wasn't curly one, so it wasn't a Wetzel's garnish.] From there, we hopped
cross town to the "Under
Main Theater" as Sister is looking to bring one of her performance
pieces to Dallas sometime soon. It was amazing to watch Miss
Gemini Performance Artist freeze up when she met the theater's director.
I thought it was a great space. Back across town, we kidnapped Pa Wetzel from
the office, citing our business as more important than his business, then bounced
home. Okay: no one in my family is a good driver. I tend to think I'm the best,
but that's not saying a lot. But we made it fine, without too many detours.
Sister feel asleep for a short nap, I snapped
a web picture, and put it up on the kitty
cam for a little while. An early family dinner, and some complicated transactions,
plus details of said transactions, plus.... Complicated business deals by Pa
Wetzel left Ma Wetzel wondering what color shopping cart she should get —
for her new home. (Bit of a pessimist, that Ma Wetzel.) Okay, but the day wasn't
over yet. I had the Virgo give me a ride to the airport, and then I sat across
from a darling pair of Taurus girls, one heading home, and another heading to
town for business. Prognostications? Going to be a strange couple of months.
Especially for Taurus. I'm not sure I can take too much more of this activity
— and some updates to the schedule.
1/31
I checked the Mail Box twice on Monday, and the January syndication check was
not in the mail — and it's long overdue. Maybe it was my response to a
too serious Pisces,
or maybe it was the late check, but I got the web guy to 86 the "free chart"
link
from the front page, and I myself reworked the splash
page, so it resembles my own tastes a little better. And I never could get a
consensus of opinions, either, about whether to use a real splash page, or to
let the weekly column always be at the root of the web site — interesting
debate, and no easy answer. But I know the sites I like have the data on the
front page. News: that's what's important. I had sushi with a red headed Capricorn
for lunch, the Pisces and one of the Gemini's came by and gathered me up for
a culinary adventure for dinner. Middle Eastern cuisine at Ararat. I had the
sizzling (hot and spicy) lamb. The only thing I could find fault with the place,
okay, maybe two things, one: they didn't call the tortillas tortillas, and two:
the business cards [with web
address] make lousy toothpicks for digging that succulent lamb out from between
my teeth, after I got home. Airport morning — another long day in Dallas
— then home again at the end of the day, or so I hope. "Good lord
willing and the creek don't rise," to borrow a quote from Hank Williams
Senior. Off to see Sister [and attend to familial business] — yet again.
Now, this will be the second time this month I've had to do this shuffle. I
liked the Amazon headline, "1,500
staff Remaindered...." I'm sorry to see my 'next best friend' at the
help desk go, but if they cut the folks who actually didn't really accomplish
anything, well, there goes a lot of the help desk folks I talked to. "Wow,
you didn't get your refund? You didn't get your credit? You should have that
by now...." Took a at least three calls, each time.
1/30
By 9:00 AM, I had breakfasted, answered e–mail, slammed coffee, watered
the plants, and done the last little bit of heavy lifting, and frankly, I was
ready to go back to bed. I'm not sure I could really call it a full day's work,
but it sure felt like it. Reports from Gemini land indicate that Mercury is
"a–fixin'" to go retrograde. There was an eerie, spooky calm
out on the Monday afternoon airwaves, or so it seemed. I chucked two thirds
of my obligations, and went for short hike around the lake. Up on the bridges,
the wind was out of the north, and it was cold. But the shoreline was calm,
in the lee of the buildings, and much more hospitable. Sun was out, but I still
violated one of my hard and fast rules about not hiking when the temperature
is below 70, it was only about 65. But it was nice enough, and it seems like
about forever since I've been able to enjoy any semblance of warm weather. Of
course, a cold winter usually means a hot summer. Midnight run to the airport,
oh yes, I'm planning on using this one, something to hold over a particular
person's head, "Sure, you can't take me to the airport 8:00 AM, but I can
get out of bed at midnight to come and get you?"
1/29
But the
real crisis?
This is why we love the British.
I begged out of the manual labor thing after scoring a breakfast at "El
Mercado" [S. First Street], and angled for the Neighbor's trailer for the
ball game. The ads were supposed to be even more enchanting than last year,
but near as I could remember, they flopped pretty badly. None of them really
scored with me. The e-Trade ads seemed to be about the best, but let me recall,
it was just last year, and it was an e-Trade check that bounced on me, from
a client. On further examination, the money was in the account, and this was
the company's mistake. Heavens forbid someone would intentionally bounce a check
to their astrologer. But the lack of response on the part of the company makes
me wonder if it's really worth it. Great marketing doesn't insure they will
be around in the future, and judging by the way they treat my clients, I'm not
sure I trust the company myself. But some of the ads were nice. And I did get
carried away with the back to back kick off return thing, for about 30 seconds,
it looked like there was going to be a ball game. As usual, my prediction for
winning was hopelessly wrong. I was sort of rooting for the Giants.
1/28
How I get roped into these deals, I'm not sure. It sounded like breakfast and
trip to the hardware store. Little did I know this trip involved me lifting
50 pound bags of mulch and 50 pound bags of gravel, and then, oh yes, I fell
for that line again, "I just don't know how to do this...." So I got
to help spread some manure in the pouring drizzle. Had dinner with one of the
best raconteurs I've ever listened to, over in a corner of Guero's. Friend of
a friend, and the guy's a journalist. And he did have stories to tell. He was
much luckier than I was yesterday, he got to do the "Lockhart hat trick,"
a slice of BBQ and a slice of bread in each of the three places, Kreuze, Black's
and Chisolm Trail (Floyd's). "Just a day trip, I've got to do a show about
Texas food tomorrow, you know, 'brown food.' Tex-Mex, Chicken Fried, and BBQ."
We left him to wind his way back to cow town, and I went to see "Crouching
Tiger, Hidden Dragon" or whatever the title is. I suppose I should write
a review, but all I can really say is that I enjoyed it immensely. Of course,
I was physically tired from all that labor — and it wasn't like that was
a movie I could fall asleep in.
1/27
"Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition" [Dixie
Chicks, Fly CD.] Old phrase, reworked nicely. Ever have one of those songs
that gets stuck in your head? Work, more work, and then, late last night, even
more time spent pounding stuff out of the machine. My poor stomach decided it
had finally had enough of this sitting inside and drinking coffee, all that
coffee finally turned a little sour. So what did I do last night? I helped a
friend load gravel. Not really an exciting task, but it sure felt nice to stretch
some other muscles for a change.
1/26
Wednesday night's "duck spring roll" had an adverse reaction with
Thursday morning's digestive system. I'm a little out of shape for fine, rich
food. And duck is still one of my favorite food groups, as fowl as that might
sound. Rich, tangy, rich, slight game taste, and rich. Greasy and rich. Maybe
duck is a perfect food group, but I'm out of shape for eating it. I worked at
the computer yesterday morning, and I spent some time trying to chase down a
missing paycheck. Seems they are all doing paperwork in California by candle
light. One red headed Capricorn was dropped off at the airport, leaving me with
her baby truck, and I grabbed a quick bite on the way home — east side
taqueria. Then, I had this gig yesterday afternoon at the Convention Center,
doing card readings. It was far more practical to come home and park at Shady
Acres, and then hoof it up to the Convention Center because I don't know where
there's any free parking, and I'm way too cheap to pay for it, not when I can
walk faster than I can drive. Working at an event like that was strange. One
[more] red headed Capricorn to add to the list, but by and large, the Pisces
out numbered everyone other sign, about 14 to one. Walking home, the pedestrian
route seemed faster than the long line cars stopped up at the light. But the
day was far from over — a quick run to Sam's for groceries — always
buy in bulk — almost out of the Y2K foodstuffs now — then the Neighbor
gives me a "Hello" and suggests Magnolia for dinner, his treat. Sure.
I've always imagined that Magnolia is an Austin, vaguely vegetarian place, but
following the suggestion, I had a tenderloin dinner entree. I was amazed. Astounded.
Blown away. Really tasty treat. That was one big hunk of rare meat, perfectly
seared on the outside, and warm, bordering on raw, on the inside. And the server?
Another red headed Capricorn. I'm seeing a trend here, and I'm not sure I'm
liking it. Or maybe I am. I guess I should add, at some point yesterday, I agreed
to lunch next week with yet another, well, the description is getting a little
old, but you can guess by now: red headed Capricorn.
1/25
I was reading another author who seems to have supplanted me in local popularity.
And while I was sort of amused, I spent a lot of time asking myself, "What's
the point of this article?" I had dinner with the Pisces last night, at
her behest, and she wanted to try some place new, "I've got a hundred dollar
bill just burning a hole in my pocket." I suggested Castle Hill, and off
we went. Over a relaxed dinner starting with duck spring rolls, then lamb [something
or other sauce], I was bemoaning my fate as I spent the greater portion of the
day working on the computer and fielding client phone calls, doing a couple
of readings, and then, about the time I noticed it was a nice day, the phone
rang again, and I was back at work. The original plan was to have dessert at
Amy's, right around the corner, but that got misplaced by the dessert menu.
While I found the caramel sauce a just a little thin, the Amy's Cinnamon Ice
Cream and the accompanying [apple, pear, something or other] fruit cake was
good. But it was still difficult to walk past Amy's and not go in, but stuffed
as we were, it was possible. I did finally find "At the drive in"
— punk rock originating in El Paso — at Waterloo. But wandering around
the record store without ice cream in hand, it just seems wrong. I had some
comment running about the joke
list. President's
play. Of course, if too much work is all I've got to complain about, then
I'm not really in a position to complain, but it seems like years since I've
had a nice, hot, sizzling walk around the lake. Been years since I've perspired,
nice, clean, honest sweat.
1/24
I seem to be reading a lot history. Just happens to be the subject of the books
on the table at the moment. And I can't listen to the Valkries [Die Walküre]
without thinking about a certain character from a certain movie, saying something
like, "Charlie don't surf!" While the Moon was lining up with my Venus,
all I could write about was love and romance, in the most glowing terms. Which,
to be honest, is a far cry from my usual point of view. But I'm not bitter.
And while on the subject of bitter: I've been running a food
survey, by birth data, for a year or more now. Interestingly enough, folks
not from Texas, or the South, they don't like "chicken fried" as much
as we do. Even though I don't like his two faced politics, the new Prez is going
to make it a required category. Get used to it.
1/23
Monday after a show is always filled with "burn out" time. And given
all the recent dot
coms becoming not coms, I wondered why I didn't see more techies at the
psychic fair. On the schedule? Nothing — for a reason. Ma Wetzel recently
informed me that her father's favorite opera was Wagner's Ziegfried, out of
the Ring Cycle. So I was listening to it one more time, trying to get handle
one the story line. Some things don't quite add up, maybe my German is rusty.
I was surfing the web yesterday, and from a MacInTouch
link, I went to an Apple
History site. The site's author has a plug about no banner ads, and a link
for making a donation. Wonder if I should do the same? Molly Ivin's Saturday
column
was about the new president. She noted that many Texans will find work in Washington
— getting them out of Austin. There is hope. And W's favorite food is chicken
fried steak, much to the horror of most of the east coast. Of course, we need
smaller government, unless of course, it helps a business man build a ball park.
1/22
Sunday mornings, especially before a mission critical event [like work], I've
found that I really do benefit from a large, delicious breakfast. I've got it
worked out in El Paso, and Saturday morning, it was Magnolia — always a
favorite in Austin, but yesterday, we tried Curra's for breakfast. In a delightful
change, it wasn't too crowded when we were there, and the serving person (Taurus
girl) was obnoxiously bright and cheerful. Must be a morning person. But the
food was good, and got me going for the day. I didn't even know Curra's had
breakfast — previously, I was just getting upset with the big crowds late
in the day. I hitched a ride home after working all day, via Artz Rib House,
and fell into bed at some unreasonably early hour, like before 10, just dog
tired.
1/21
Sounds like whining, but I wonder about some of the folks I see at the events
I work at. I'll watch a person walk around and drop $100 or more on readings,
bouncing from reader to reader until that person hears what he or she wants
to hear. From my own experience, I've found that peddling dreams is a little
less lucrative in the long run. I got busy Saturday afternoon, and at one point,
all I remember, was begging for my client's leave, long enough to stuff a granola
bar in my mouth, just to keep going. Had some delicious tacos last night at
Guero's, sort of a necessary thing. Then, a little later, I was with one of
the Virgo's at the home improvement store, she was looking for something for
her house, and she kept saying, "I like but it's too big." Right,
like that's a common complaint. She was talking about microwave ovens, of course.
1/20
The Neighbor came by, and I offered him a beer out of the box. "Lone Star
Tall Boy, wonder who this was for?" he asked. It was kind of obvious, I
had it as bait for a particular date. Didn't work, but can't blame me for trying.
The Neighbor, after he was suitably primed, and me, we hopped up to Denny's
for breakfast. Like two, normal guys. He had a hankering for the "[something]
Slam" breakfast platter. Pretty typical guy scene, though, we both read
the daily paper while eating. What I'm reading right now: The World of Chaucer
by Derek Brewer. Ma Wetzel had left it behind as late Xmas gift, and judging
from the cover, it's an English [English as 'England' English] only imprint
and as unpedestrian academic prose as possible. That's it, the Neighbor, and
his Scottish friend, they're nuts. Last night, they went down to the waterline,
and hit some golf balls. Trying to drive them across the river? It's freezing
cold, and there are these two guys, talking, drinking beer, laughing a little,
and trying to drive a big bag of golf balls, one at a time, across the river.
Aquarius starts right now, and so does the big event listed in my travel
schedule. Working
weekend for me. I didn't get as much sleep as I like, listening to the sound
of a driver hitting a golf ball, then the occasional roar of laughter.