Astrology Home Buoy
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Sun in Leo

8/22
Monday morning, I had just about the worst time. I overslept. It was calculated day of rest, I mean, I woke up early, rolled over and decided I was fried from the weekend and wanted to stay in bed a little longer. Or maybe it was from a dip in the lake to get the boat out of the mudlfat. But when I got around to logging on to check e-mail and stuff, the traffic at my server was so high I couln't get onto my own site. Then I was off to meet with Ma Wetzel. Guy winks at me... No. See: I was ambling down to the bank, big weekend, right? And one bar's storefront was under construction. I was thinking, "If this was Dallas, that guy would have on a shirt." Then again, so would I. But old, "not.com" Austin is still around. Still barechested, too, on a summer's day. "Kramer, I hate to say this, but you get more and more like your father every day." Thanks, Mom. I did my best to show Ma Wetzel a little bit of Austin, the Texas Chili Parlor, the Amy's on 6th Street, Waterloo Records. She did get in one of those rolling commentaries with a poor guy who obviously didn't know a lot about opera but was a record store employee nonetheless. Poor guy. "Excuse me, is she harassing you?" I politely inquired. Excellent advice?

8/21
Ma Wetzel is in town, but I missed her completely... except for a cell phone conversation. "You know Kramer, your father and I were trying to decide which one of the kids to leave my car to, when I go," she was saying, "and you know, I'm not sure you or your sister wants it...." I wrapped up the show yesterday afternoon a few minutes early and spent several long minutes outside on the cell phone, arranging to work at a private function on a riverboat. It started out as an auspicious evening. In fact, at one point, we were going to cruise by Shady Acres Trailer Park, with its special river frontage. No such luck. After a relaxing evening on the boat, I was supposed to do readings, but I was just pulling tricks out of my hat, and with a certain Virgo at the helm, the boat went aground. And it was suppose to be a three hour cruise. A three hour cruise. The little ship was.... never mind. Two of us — seeing as how I was the only male, although supposedly a passenger — hoped overboard and shoved us off the sandbar, and we made it back. I was reflecting on how different the river looks from being in the middle of it. How tranquil, how calming. Then, in a mere foot of water, how useless. What an interesting evening. Four birthday girls, stuck on a sandbar in the middle of downtown Austin. To be fair, the master of the helm, that Virgo, did a great job of navigating the boat most of the way. And she did bump us back into the dock, just like a car bumping into a curb — ever so gentle. At one point, I did manage the helm myself, and the little riverboat is fun. I must take a cruise again soon, Capital Cruiser. Banner ads: not for everyone.

8/20
Let me see, where to begin? It was rather full day, and no matter how hard I tried, I still managed to piss some folks off. It's not like it was anything I did intentionally, but no matter where I was, or what I did, there was a little black cloud following me around. I got the fair late, barely in time for set up, and no sooner had I tossed out my tablecloth, than I was reading charts. From 10 to 11, I read charts. At 11 I lectured. At 11:45, I sat back down and read charts — straight through, mind you — until after 4. No break. Two cups of coffee, maybe three. By six I was beat. Beat to death, almost. I had dinner with a sweet Pisces friend, but I was so beat, I actually took a "to go" box home with me — two ribs I couldn't finish eating. That tired. I was just amazed that my face didn't wind up in the tray of food — me, mid-sentence, pontificating — and the food, the exhaustion — wham, face first in dinner —

8/19
Off to work at an unreasonable hour of the day — and I'll wager nothing but the die hard psychic fair groupies manage to make it out. The hotel is located next to the freeway, the great concrete river which flows from Mexico to Minneapolis, Laredo to points north of the Red River. And there's a bridge now missing from in front of the hotel so no one will be able to figure out that you have to go down the "intersection from hell" and do an about face in order to get to the fair. Furniture porn? You bet, it's hilarious! Bubba showed up last night, on roll, "You know, I like a girl who has to preen in front of the mirror for half an hour before you go anywhere — it means she's at least half an hour late, every time, and it means she can cast reflection, unlike my last girlfriend...." One a separate note, care and feeding of the Astrologer, part whatever:

>Your approach to your web page and your type of telling your scopes is
>something more grounded and real. Something more realistic because [you] just
>are yourself. You don't try to use fairy dust and magic crystal balls and
>all that bullshit . You just do what you love and do it well. You are
>original and crazy and I applaud that.

8/18
I stopped at the Thundercloud to pick up a sub for lunch, I was greeted by a crowded store. I checked the timer on the phone, and it was well past the usual lunch hour rush. Then I noticed something about herd mentality — imagine that there's this counter with three different guys making sandwiches, and there's one long line in front of one guy, a little shorter line in front of the second guy over by the cash register, and finally, no one in front of the guy with the beard. I saunter over there, get a Vegetarian Delight [with a couple of strips of bacon for the cat], and I casually ask why everyone is standing in line when they could be served. "Don't know," the cheery sandwich maker said from behind the counter, "never did get it." Some people would rather stand in line instead of going ahead and getting what they want. I don't think it'll catch on but, "Set your mind free, go to the next available sandwich maker." This is the place I like because they have a strident "no cell phones at the counter" sign.

8/17
Music for the morning: "Don't push me, I'm crazy...." Then one of those long guitar solos which sounds like cats fighting. "So honey," [I was waiting to talk to a lawyer, council for the opposition as it was] "if you surf over to my site, you can see me talking to you on the web cam. It's just like being there. Or here." Sounds like some of the former employees should seek the advice of a good astrologer, to find that next job. Then over to the Dixie Chicks, "Let it rip, let it fly...." Yesterday included more cat serenades and dip in Barton Springs. Plus, I found one of the weirdest tomatoes I've ever seen, it was purple, and the farmer was from Fredricksbug [about an hour west of here]. On a hot summer afternoon, an all natural, vine ripened tomato just hits the spot.

8/16
The Kitty Cam isn't doing what I want it to do these days. And since arriving home, the cat herself has been much more vocal. I've been serenaded, for the last two nights. Now, as an astrologer, I would have to attribute this to the full moon. But the mistress of the trailer, she's been singing to me every since I got back from West Texas. Loudly singing. I figure it's the moon, sort of makes a feller want to sing country music to accompany the cat. Or maybe I was, and that's why she's was singing. The British and French continue to struggle, and I was wondering if anyone saw this as an ironic victory for the English. [It's a news item about an English "charity" providing vasectomies for French guys because such acts are outlawed by some Napoleonic code.]

8/15
Hummingbirds in the morning, the first day of school for Grace's daughters, a household abuzz, a few clients, it was just another beautiful day in El Paso. Grace and I snuck out to the casino yesterday for a brief afternoon of frivolous fun, and I walked out with a little more cash than I walked in with. Bubba came home, and we all went to pick up one daughter from her first day of high school, then off to spend all of Grace's hard earned cash on school supplies. We stopped for a burger, and the high school daughter observed that she was acting more mature than Bubba. I suggested, "Well, obviously." And Grace quipped, "Hello. What were you thinking." Children, children. Maybe there's a song there, "Leaving El Paso...." Astronet.com seems to have forgotten about me. Got to remember to drop them a note. Spew was a big topic in yesterday's e-mail. One particular person apparently spewed coffee all over his computer as a result of reading the weekly scope. That's only the second time that I'm aware of wherein I caused spewage. It's a good sign. The ride back on the airplane was amusing, at best. There was a die hard Democrat and a fueled up "New Texas" Republican having it out with a poor, innocent Pisces girl stuck in the middle. "I vote like a Republican and party like Democrat." (Cancer sun sign). What amazed me was how much this guy acted like another friend — and here's the surprise — they're both from the same neck of the woods, so to speak, Southeast Texas, just outside of Houston.

8/14
El Paso, Texas: I still love this town, a place which is more curious than most parts of Texas. Riding along the freeway, the big Interstate highway which describes an arc through the what seems to be the southern edge of the town, there's a view of mountains, and New Mexico to the north, Old Mexico to the south, and and a thin ribbon of water marking most of the boundary between Texas and its former home. There's a strong Hispanic influence, not to be confused with the delicate overtones of Spanish style, and then there's a little smattering of real cowboy — certainly a far cry from the more urban variety found in larger Texas cities. Combine that with the fact I was staying with Grace and Bubba, and Bubba is, pretty simply put, a real redneck. Gentleman, to be sure, but certainly considered a redneck. Of course, most his contemporaries in El Paso have another name for him, something in Spanish. Late night radio: "... trying to make livin', doin' the best I can, because I was born a ramblin' man...."

8/13
There was a song by the New Radicals — I gave Grace a copy of the CD a while back, a token of appreciation for putting up with me on her couch, and I was greeted, Saturday morning, while still in the shower, with that one song playing really loud. "The Bangles are getting back together — and I would really like to be between them...." Robin suggested. "So it was in the emergency room, and there was this big biker guy, his back was causing a terrible pain — apparently — and as the staff got him out of his clothes and onto the table, there was this tattoo on his left butt cheek, Yosemite Sam with a shotgun pointing you know where, and the inscription, 'Come out of that hole you silly wabbit.' You can just imagine how everyone was laughing at that one." Sunday morning in El Paso: Hummingbirds. Amid Grace's Bubba's collection of various dead animals mounted on the wall, hunting trophies, there's the odd one in the backyard. I counted close to a dozen.

8/12
"There's even an ax for the Alamo tree." I've got to pick better reading material, that's for sure. Right before I was heading to the airport, the last article I was reading was a New Yorker fiction piece about the plane ride from the dark side. Synchronisity? I rode from Austin to El Paso sitting across from an old girlfriend. We laughed, we joked, and I said nothing serious. Seems like everyone else has a more exciting dating life than I do. Had lunch at Kiki's, one of my favorite places, then got a nickel tour of the town, seeing as how I got to El Paso a little early. I tried to pick my clothing carefully, but I think I failed as I was greeted, at one point, "Braveheart goes surfing?" "Surf's up, m'lady?" Watched big clouds, thunderclouds I would guess, building up along the Organ [?] and Franklin Mountains. And my foray into the Sunland Park amusement area? Lost my stake from Las Vegas — c'est la vie. So it was a totally wasted day, and nothing but amusing. Great friends, great fun, good food.... the moonlight night, a Sagittarius in the backyard talking to me, a sweet little cookie....

8/11
"The prince of darkness is a gentleman." Edgar in Shakespeare's King Lear [III.iv.146] I nearly forgot, I managed to get myself registered for an "Acting Shakespeare" workshop. How to interpret the language on the stage, or something like that. It'll be a class at the State Theater, just around the corner from me. I called up, shortly after waking, and the nice person on the other end of the phone was far too cheery. "Prozac, that's the secret. You should try it!" I could hear her smile on the other end. I had checked with one of my real, English trained, Royal Shakespeare buddies here in town, and he recommended it as he knew the teacher. I suffer from no pretense that I will be a Shakespeare actor. I suffer from no pretense that this is the beginning of a new career in acting. But I am hoping it will help me as a critic, and maybe get a chance to look at some of the texts from a completely different perspective, not academic or astrological. Had to switch gears to get a little work done yesterday, from C&W back to mixed media music. Much better now. A quick trip downtown, then a short hop over to the Springs for a summer afternoon in cool water — all the local pools are chained up now, I can't just slip a pocketknife into the lock to sneak a dip. Off to the airport, El Paso time, the West Texas Shuffle.

8/10
Weird weather. For the last two days, it's looked like rain. But when I got up yesterday morning, and swung open the back door of the trailer so the cat could do cat things outside — I think she nibbles on green things outside, and I know she does her best to reduce the population of lizards. Naturally, she brings them back alive. And all the while, it looked like rain, felt like rain, but there was no rain. I worked in the office all day yesterday, rather upset to be working. But work I did. It's a little weird to be an observer, and then, for most males who walk in, for them to assume that I'm the owner, as I sit in the back with a computer. "I thought you were the boss." "Oh no," I replied, indicating the Scorpio boss, "she is. That's for sure." Right, like that dimpled smile really hides a tenacious, determined [and rather shrewd] boss — and me, stuck in this estrogen rich environment.

8/9
Texas is neither a part of the South, not really, as the South considers Texas too westerly to be part of the great southern heritage. But in the same vein, the great American desert southwest, New Mexico and Arizona, they don't want to be included in the same grouping as Texas. It's just not the same thing. Classifying plants, and by extension, anything else, falls under a scientific name called "taxonomy." Trying to explain things to people outside of Texas frequently doesn't work. Folks not from here, always consider us Texans as roadkill eating southerners, or wild as the wind cowboys. I suggest it's something in between, separate and apart from the rest. I was ghost writing away yesterday morning, and I kept coming back to the funny thing I once encountered overseas, "And the dish is spiced with coriander." "Huh?" "Cilantro, I believe," clipped the very European server, "is what you know it as." "Oh, cool. Yeah, I'll take that "

8/8
So Monday started out way too early. I got one of those personally disturbing e-mail's from a particular Virgo, and after that, Sunday night wasn't quite sleepless, but I couldn't really do much more than toss and turn. For some reason, I was up early Monday morning, and per a previous arrangement, called up the red headed Capricorn so we could take a hike around the lake, before it got too warm. "Nice to see you mentioned in the Chronicle," she said. News to me. "Yeah, in that article about online journals or something." Hint: I didn't see my sobriquet listed in the online version of the story, and frankly, a little sidebar isn't that big of a deal, although, it is the first time I've ever been mentioned in the Chronicle, in any capacity — what's weird is this came out last Thursday, and no one told me about it until Monday. After a long and spirited hike around the lake, as we were nearing Shady Acres Trailer Park, and the lovely air conditioning, the Capricorn had another brilliant idea: breakfast at Magnolia. Off we went. Over a plate full of poached eggs draped with delicate Florentine spinach, the next idea came up: movie time. The 11:30 matinee of "Space Cowboys." Universally panned by the critics, I could understand why, I mean, it has a medium fidget factor, but it was more entertaining than answering the phone when it buzzed halfway through the film. Besides, anything that makes old guys [Clint Eastwood, James Garner, Donald Sutherland, Tommie Lee] look like sex super stars is okay by me. Follow the movie with some Amy's ice cream, and it was full day, all before the mid–afternoon. Got a late night call from Oregon, Peg–o–rama phoning in an update — "Reading the journal lately?" "No, why?" "I mentioned some C&W, a sure sign of the four horseman approaching...." "The Four Horsemen? Did they do a new album?"

8/7
I'm pretty sure that this means the end is near, I bought a country album, Alan Jackson's Greatest Hits. This is bound to be a harbinger of the fall of civilization as I know it. Worse yet: I know some of these songs. The end is near, I fear. Mortal fear. As one poet remarked, "I'm not in my right mind." [but the album is 50/50, 50% stuff I can like, 50% stuff I hate about country music in the first place] Went riding along with a Gemini yesterday afternoon. More summer food: Sonic. "I'll have foot long chili cheese dog, big fries, and a diet coke." After stating my order, I had to wonder, and did so outloud, "One of these things is not like the other...." The requisite accompanying minor chimed in, "And if it doesn't work out then blame it on your mother...." Didn't matter which side I took, I was in touble with 50% of the party, either way.

8/6
Take back Vermont? Found it on another web log and liked the initial splash, although I'm not sure about some of their politics. Mental health days are fine, but I kept trying to get through to the sales department at the yellow pages place and had no luck. The Leo rousted me from my lair, and off we went to Gun and Knife show. It's pretty weird, it's in a hotel where I'm used to doing psychic fairs, so the facility itself is not new to me, but the feeling is very different, it's almost all male. Some surprise there. One of the first booths I stopped at, with my Leo companion, I looked at a selection of Case pocketknives, and she was looking at something else. "Scares me when she buys a big knife like that," I commented to the vendor. "You know," the vendor said (retired vet surgeon, according to his card), "most guys with a castration complex, the girl grabs a small knife, one of those tiny ones."

8/5
I suppose the big news is that Chrstopher did have his baby. [well, it was Christopher's wife who really had the baby] And, as fate would have it, and opposite my predictions, it turned out to be a girl. But yesterday was an impromtu mental health day. One of those days when the wisdom of the situation, and few aches and pains from running headlong for so long, all seem to catch up. Lay on the couch and read a book, cover to cover. Bummer for Beaumont.

8/4
"So you're my favorite Gemini — except for this one here, she wants to go to the Gun and Knife show with me — that's pretty hot, too, you know...." I opened the trailer's door, and the cheery Lone Star Overnight delivery person was dropping off a package. Apparently, the Sagittarius scope motivated a certain person to send me a Dixie Chicks CD. And Lone Star Overnight was just an added bonus touch, something for the good old boy here. After sitting at Threadgill's for an afternoon of meeting with people, I did quick hike in the afternoon sun — the HOT afternoon sun — up to the bank to deposit my booty, past a juice joint, then down to the trail to scoot on over to the east side and the office. It was an ill–timed journey as I missed the rush hour traffic, but I found out it was an ozone action day, and the sun was rather merciless. I was one crispy critter by the time I got home. And then there was the Gemini who was having a baby, and that kept the phone lines tied up, too.

8/3
I finally got home and got myself collected after being on the road, and going places, and attempting to fulfill my civic duty, and I had a quiet morning — in bed, asleep. As I woke up yesterday, downed some coffee, and looked over my list of things to do, I looked at a couple of events I was planning to participate in, one was up in the Arlington area in the fall, and another was here in Austin, early September. I called to see about booth space, pricing and so forth. In both cases, the price of doing business is just too steep for my blood. Or bank balance. $500 to $800 for a small booth booth space at a holistic fair? No way. I can only meet and greet so many people, and I figure that's money better spent on coffee and BBQ. Let me see, at $800 a pop, I have to do 32 readings at $25 a each before I even begin to cover my costs... it doesn't add up. So I wandered off to Barton Springs to beat the summer heat, bought a loaf of bread at the outdoor market, and picked up a baggy full hibiscus leaves for making some tea. And one tomato. A single tomato, with the juice dribbling everywhere, a little dash of salt to enhance the flavor. That's a summer time food which can't be beat.

8/2
"All rise for the honorable..." and then, "I had 30 cases on the docket today, and they have all been resolved, you're free to go." So much for Jury duty. I was on foot as it's easier to walk from Shady Acres Trailer Park to the Municipal Courthouse rather than try and find parking downtown [quite possibly shorter, too], so I took off towards Texpresso, had a cup of the most delicious coffee in the world, kept on trudging towards the bank, and it was very bored teller who helped me. "I hope you don't mind if I'm partially dressed," I said as I buttoned one button on my shirt. "No man, this is Austin. Besides, if you're female, it's virtually legal to be topless anywhere in this in town." No wonder I still like it despite the over crowding caused by the recent influx of vulture capital and all the new Republicans. Lyle Lovett show at the backyard, and on a whim, I got ahold of Bubba on the cell as we were heading out there, "Hey Pops." He showed off some of his own clever wiring, "I call it my Tex-Mex wiring job. East Gate has a Texas flag on it, and the West Gate has a Mexican flag on it." During the first part of the show itself, a 'special guest appearance' was Ray Benson [Asleep at the Wheel]. Now wait, this all ties together. I fetched a package out of the mail today, a tape sent by nice Cancer reader, her Daddy used to play with Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys. So early in the morning, I slipped in the Asleep at the Wheel tribute album, and spooled up some songs to start the day.... and, one of the songs is Lyle Lovett. Pretty cool. But wait, after the show, after seeing an incredible performance at The Backyard by a very talented performer, I got this in an e-mail:

>This week's cap scope doesn't just rock.. it "RAAWKS!!"
>
>If only I didn't have the credit of a dead man.. yes, a dead man. I
>applied for a new apartment last week - they run the credit check, only to
>find that my social security number is listed under my dad's name..
>according to them, I was born in 1917, I've been in the military for 20
>years and was issued an Exxon gas card in 1976..

Some days, I love my job, and I love the Texas music. I was looking for a decent category for Lyle Lovett. My companion for the evening considered it to be "40's Blues, no, really man, 40's Blues." I was thinking it was just Texas music — the performance included a love song about a truck. And a solo by a guy playing a viola {bigger than a fiddle, smaller than the stand up bass on stage}. Where else but Texas?

8/1
"We'll always have Paris [cafe]," just doesn't quite work, but the place is great. Big, flaky biscuits, eggs done correctly, runny for me, well–cooked for some people, you know the type. It's a great place, a little south of downtown Ft. Worth. I needed to stop by a post office. If I was in Austin I would have just stopped by Rick's Drive Thru Postal as it's the easiest for me. In downtown Ft. Worth, I figured it would be real quick and easy to stop by the downtown post office. I swung into the building, saw a metal detector, and immediately alerted the security cop I had a package with three pocketknives in it, and that it was a phone in my pocket. He laughed, then called another cop over, a real uniformed Ft. Worth officer. Chambers was her last name. "Look, I carry this one pocketknife because it's small enough to fit through airport security without raising an eyebrow, what's up with this?" "Take it easy, it's a Fed building, nothing longer than two and half inches. Look, it's only Monday, and this is the least weirdest thing I've seen so far this morning...." "And it's only Monday?" "Right. Don't worry about it. You don't look dangerous." Ft. Worth, where the west begins, just don't try carrying anything which might look like a dangerous weapon. But it gets better because my train was more than two hours late leaving the downtown station, it gave me enough time to scout out a hat store. Peters Brothers Hats, since 1911. "Just don't let me spend any money I don't have...." and that was a tough challenge because they have hats, custom fitted, custom made, right there. I know where I'm getting my next hat. "I can see you usually wear, what 7 7 1/8? That's because you really have an oblong head, you need a properly shaped 7." And across the street, The Human Bean coffee shop. But guess what they have, a rare delicacy known only as Krisp Kreme Doughnuts. What's this? A little slice of some of the South's best food staple, in Ft. Worth? I tell you, this is the next Mecca. Ft. Worth is way cool. Best thing heard all day? I was in another place, getting my customary "tank of caffeine" 76 ounce cop of coffee, and heard this: "It's okay, we'll just take you to a church and se if you catch on fire...." Tuesday schedule: jury duty (no pocketknife) and then Lyle Lovett — and his large band — at the Backyard.

7/31
Breakfast at Jazz Cafe. There's nothing like a surly waitress to really make my day start off on the right foot. Or surly friends — finish up an exciting afternoon in the town "where the west begins," at a little known steak house, out on the Jacksboro Highway. The Denton Highway, the Old Denton Road, the names folks give the stuff around here never ceases to amaze me. What's really amazing is how undiscovered this area feels, like it's still got that "small town, everyone is friendly, hey, how you doing, don't I know you from high school" sense about it all. I still got one more shopping site to hit in the morning, darn this couch is getting lumpy.

7/30
It is so weird, just walking to the train station. Beginning a trip on foot, rather than calling a cab or friend for a ride to the airport just feels weird. And as much time as I've spent at this one lake, I saw something I never saw before, a pair black swans. Must be an omen, but for what? The train ride was uneventful, although, there was the briefest shower somewhere between Temple and Waco. It was right after the train picked up an extra sleeper car — "How do they do that?" "You see it in movies, it's just like that, they just bump into the car and it attaches itself." "Oh, right, that's how I wound up married so many times...." I had a late lunch at Fred's [Fred's, Texas], and my timid companion suggested she really liked this one shirt a guy was wearing. As a South Austin denizen, I didn't find the guy unusual looking, or even threatening, nor any of his companions. A little ink (tattoos) and a few visible body piercings, pretty normal stuff. "Look, I ain't from around here, and my friend really likes that shirt you've got on, where could I get one?" "You like it? Here, I'll let you have this one, hey, Don, okay if I have lunch with no shirt?" "Sure. No, wait...."

7/29
Off to the train station this morning, slinging a backpack over my shoulder and waltzing on over to catch the not so limited Ft. Worth bound Texas Eagle express. There's one reason I still have hope for Austin: people. I wandered into a particular coffee shop in order to get something cool and refreshing to fuel me all the way home. As the little door alarm tinkled with a beep, I noticed through my shades that the counter help was availing himself of counter space. Looked like he was taking a little nap on the counter. I was downtown, sort of out of morbid curiosity because there are number of empty store fronts on Congress Avenue, and I was hoping this particular counter person would have the skinny on what sort of businesses were sniffing around. No news. In strictest astrology terms, there is an eclipse, sort of like a super new moon rapidly approaching, and folks seem to be acting like they're all going a bit crazy right now. But not me, no, I am a professional. I'm going to Ft. Worth for a party–party weekend. I'm hoping to catch a little Shakespeare in the park up there, but I'm not sure the schedule will allow it.

7/28
What a weird day. There seems to be a lot of "getting married" stuff floating around right now. I blame the planets, and that big fixed sign pile up last May for these permanent actions. The statistics I've been quoted, though, suggest that marriage isn't always a good idea [60% + higher failure rate in the first 5 years]. So a Virgo reminded me, last night, "A 'get well' card is always good a for a married couple, right?" Sure, whatever works.... The computer sent the August update, and somehow, unbeknownst to me, the subject line read "June update." It's not like I did that intentionally, so there. And the update is current — just the software is out of date. Must be a Y2K problem. I worked at home, took a picture of the cat reading her fan mail, then caught a quick ride up to the office and worked there for half an afternoon. Then came home, had dinner with a Libra and looked at her tarot cards for while. But in between, and old flame called me up and requested a letter of recommendation for herself. The last time I did a recommendation for someone, he answers to the sobriquet of "Bubba," and when I got called, pre–coffee time, "Him? Man, he's great! He's got four planets in Gemini...." "That's not exactly what we were looking for." "Oh, you mean a character reference? Yes, he's quite a character all right." He did get the job, but it wasn't everything it was supposed to be.

7/27
"Neighbors, you are tedious." (Much Ado About Notrhing, Act III, scene 5, line 17). I had folks getting upset at me as I crossed in the crosswalk, with the light, the little sign flashing "walk." Rather upset me that the car drivers, in their air conditioned, non-renewable resource guzzling machines couldn't take time for the kinder, more gentle route. Like walking. The best bumpersticker reads, "What's you're hurry? you're already in Austin." This all got started when I finished a reading, and the client suggested that she wanted some good Mexican food. I hopped on over to the east side, and had me a giant burrito filled with all manner of tasty morsels of lean pork carefully marinated and then slow cooked on a spit. Such a fine repast does lend itself to moving at slightly slower pace, though. I was going to include a dip in the Springs, but frankly, the hot afternoon got to me. There's at least three apartment buidlings around here where I can sneak into their pool — just snake a pocketknife blade into the latch and pop the gate open, no keys are necessary, and that works for me. It's only trespassing if I get caught, right?

I hate running things from the joke list, but this one was so good, I couldn't pass it up [c.f. #10, "If you cain't run with the big dawgs, get up under the porch with the pups"]:
Subject: Some Rules for New Arrivals in Texas
RULE 1: Never order a steak at a Waffle House. They serve breakfast 24 hours a day. Let them cook something they know.
RULE 2: Don't laugh at folks' names. Merleen, Bodie, Luther Ray, Tommie Jo, Johnny Bob, Mari Beth, Marva, Edna Earl, and Inez have been known to whip a man's ass for a lot less than that.
RULE 3: Don't order a bottle of pop or a can of soda; this can lead to a beating. Down here it's called Coke, even if you want a Pepsi, Sprite, or Dr. Pepper. Got it?
RULE 4: Texas women don't fancy the smart mouth Yankees. Just remember, they all have Big brothers and Bigger daddies.
RULE 5: Don't show allegiances to any other school football team but the Longhorns or Aggies. All the others are a bunch of candy asses who play Wyoming every week.
RULE 6: Don't call us a bunch of hillbillies. Most of us are better educated than you and a whole lot nicer to boot. We just talk that way to piss you off.
RULE 7: Yes, we know the humidity is high; just quit complaining, spend your money, and go home.
RULE 8: No, the state symbol of Texas is not the orange and white highway barrel. This road construction pisses us off too.
RULE 9: Don't go to the Cracker Barrel and order toast. If you do this, everyone will know you're from Nebraska. Just eat the biscuits like GOD meant for you to do. And do not order poached eggs. No one from Texas eats eggs poached.
RULE 10: Don't try to talk with a Texas accent if you don't have one or use regional idioms you can't possibly understand. Nothing makes us madder.
RULE 11: Don't be telling everybody how much better it was back home. We're not going to change to make you happy. So if you don't like it here, Delta is ready when you are!
RULE 12: Our food isn't overcooked; yours is undercooked.
RULE 13: Down here, "Kiss my ass" is a perfectly acceptable way to close an argument. You can't get more closure than that.
RULE 14: Flirting is a Texas tradition. It doesn't mean you're going home with someone later. It doesn't mean the person flirting with you is even interested. It's all just practice.
Rule 15: Take your hat off when you say the words "Tom Landry."

7/26
One of the e-mails making the joke lists these days is full of insipid inspirational advice, like "live every day as if it were your last" and while I call that sentimental, maudlin advice, it's something which I embrace as often as possible. I got to thinking about this as I was faced with a decision, Texpresso or Ruta Maya? I was going to hit one of them, maybe both. But as the whim of the traffic light changed, I found myself heading straight down 4th Street which means I took it as an act of god (maybe just the traffic switch box) that I was supposed to go to Ruta Maya. Buy a pack of American Spirits $4 + leave a dollar in the tip jar, then get an Espresso–Mexican Vanilla shake, $3 + a pound of Espresso Roast beans, for a grand total of $13.85, leave another dollar in the tip jar, and I'm suddenly out for $20, and I hadn't had any lunch yet, either. So I trotted off to the bookstore, not really my intended destination, but the book I've been reading is lagging a bit, I wondered if the helpful staff could recommend something. Since I was properly juiced up, yes, they did. Looks like a fun novel to read on the train this weekend. More news as it becomes available, and I did spend a certain amount of time trying to explain to the woman behind the counter at the bookstore, that even though she sold me a bad novel once, she had the foresight to warn me it was bad. That's pretty decent service, if you ask me. That nice, personal touch. I wondered on home, still stuck with that fatalistic idea, but all in all, it was a good day. Late in the evening, after too much good coffee at Spider Trap or Spider House, or whatever the name of the place was, I finally jumped back into my online search for a particular brand of pocketknife, not a Case XX, but something a little different. After looking in all the other search engines like Excite, Hotbot and Lycos, I finally went back to the granddaddy of them all, Yahoo. Look: Moore Maker Tools, online.

7/25
"Financial hardship is no excuse for not serving on a jury," said the judge. Or the clerk. And does it matter? I got up and got out, and after a quick (tasty, nurturing, bountiful, delicious) meal at Magnolia I showed up for my 9:30 AM Jury Summons on time, even a few minutes early — only I was late. So I got bumped into the 10:30 group. Went without a hitch. I have a one in three or four chance of winning a slot on a municipal court jury next week. Guess I better check my horoscope for then. With my lottery luck, I would suppose this is good, but I'm still a little worried. I did manage to work in a quick dip at Barton Srpings because yesterday's rain, while it cooled everything off for a little while, the ambient air temperature was back up furnace settings by mid day. I got back to the trailer, and slapped a few different CD's into the player. I was trying to verify some lyrics for a copy editor, so that meant I had to listen to some Robert Earl Keen — next to that, I had the [Asleep at] Wheel's tribute to Bob Wills because someone had written in with a connection to that kind of music. But diversity is important, and the Lords of Acid are in there, too. Of course, the poor CD player balked at that last selection. Wouldn't play it, not after the sweet fiddle and the gentle strains of pedal steel. Which one is the real Pisces?

7/24
In the middle of the afternoon, yesterday, I was wondering whatever had possessed me when I had figured, at a late moment, a nice long hike around the lake's shore would be in order. The first mile was a breeze, and I kept a good marching pace right up to mile five point one. It quit working, then. Not just sort of slow downed, I mean it quit. The sun was mercilessly hot, the sky was a clear blue, and there was no hope. Being on the northern shore posed a problem, as I live on the south side. In this life, there just aren't any shortcuts on some days. I kept on at a much reduced rate, composing letters to the editor, considering how to answer some annoying fan mail, the usual running thoughts in my mind. Shortly after I got home, the sky darkened, and there was a great burst as the skies opened up for some much needed rain. Rain is welcome: one to three inches, depending on your location. A little later in the day, I was entertaining a Virgo and her child, and I asked them what they wanted to do, "Whatever you want, Kramer," so it was off to Amy's for ice cream, for starters. But the poor little girl was shivering, first from the rain, the air conditioning, and then from the ice cream, "I can't finish it." "What? You think you're going to get in trouble or something, 'you get no dessert if you can't finish your ice cream'?" Did the usual thing, the sky was painted with brilliant deep hues at as the sun set on the bat bridge.

7/23
I was heading back to Magnolia, yesterday afternoon, nothing interesting in the mail bag, and as the cicadas buzzed in the older neighborhood's tree cover, I found myself "surfing the shade." I would amble from one side of the street to other, meandering in a forward direction, but carefully picking the route with the most trees. Even in the hundred degree heat, I was doing pretty good. And there's some kind of trigger, some sort of emotional release which I get from the insect buzz noise, the heat, the shade, it all fits together well. It was day for running errands, and after one more reading tucked away in a cozy booth at the Mag, I hooked it downtown. I was passing one of the junk shops on South Congress (afternoon sun, stick to the west side of the street and stay cool), and there was this one place with a little doll house chest of drawers. Perfect for a few items I've got laying about the trailer, items which need a home. It would look so choice — then, in the window, there was a flyer for "Austin, say 'no' to light rail." I looked around in the store, but I can't do business with an entity which so vocally is opposed to some form of rational progress. Of course, the other option is to ride around in Stupid Utility Vehicles which putrefy the air — apparently this particular shop keeper has never seen their beloved South Congress Avenue when the early morning traffic is backed up for miles. One of my errands was a buying a train ticket for parts north next weekend. Cost? Round trip is $56. That's approximately one point two five tanks of gas in the truck. And heading up to Dallas/Ft. Worth is a two tank minimum. Do the math. Of course, true, die–hard Texans resist getting off their mechanical horses as it represents a lack of freedom. Wait, I was born in Texas.

7/22
Yesterday was a long day with phones. Then a short hike in the summer sun to Magnolia for a little reading, at least, that's the plan right now. Or was that yesterday? I keep looking for patterns, it's part of what I do, and the only discernible pattern is Virgo. Virgo, Virgo, Virgo. There must be about two dozen of them, all clamoring for attention in varying degrees right now. But the pattern is not consistent in that, the needs are different. Job, money, love, always looking for something.... but then, aren't we all? Remember: due to El Nino, the price of artichoke hearts is slightly higher. For that one reader: Index for this year.

Index for this year