Everything about a house talks about the people living in it. The bathroom design, the swimming pools reveal the extent of indulgence of the owners. The garden tools speak of his attachment and sense of responsibility. The kitchens tell about his sense of belonging. The living room furniture conveys the pride taken in the house, and the doors say everything about the hospitality of your host.
12/20
That's it — it's official now: everyone is crazy. Weird
organ music. An old buddy from high school years looked me up on the net
a while back. What worries me is his submission for the joke list yesterday,
1] it was quote from Paul Harvey, 2] he was listening to Paul Harvey, and worse,
3] I found the joke funny, too. See, my buddy is the same age as I am. Have
we reached middle age where Paul Harvey is funny? Heavens, the next step is
to vote Republican. [Like that'll happen! As if!] Late last night, I finally
finished reading Zeitgeist. Now, I might be a slow reader, or not fast
about catching on, but it wasn't until some of the last pages of the novel that
I realized part of the plot is about writing. Writing about writing is a ticklish
subject. The funny part about the book, though, there's enough "magic"
to make it happen. Parts of the novel plays on the new age crap I deal with
so often. I think — I'm not sure, but the way I read it — the author
pokes a lot of serious fun at the "smoke and mirrors" of the new age
stuff. Frankly, I chuckled. I'm not sure how to do this one: quoting
a paper, quoting another paper: "Her designer, according to the Fort
Worth Star Telegram, is Michael Faircloth, who also has clothed the Dallas Cowboy
Cheerleaders." It's about our new first lady, and her clothing choices.
12/19
The good news is about spending the upcoming weekend with family. Bad news is
I never got around to packing properly. Sniff at some jeans, declare them "clean
enough," toss them in a duffle bag. Rummage through the dirty clothes hamper,
grab the cleanest looking T-shirts, get ready to roll. I was working on some
of the next year stuff yesterday, and after playing around with publication
dates, deadlines and such, I realized that there's a big problem I have with
getting my material into the alternative press — I've been writing for
a Monday publication date, and most of the alternative press weekly papers publish
on Thursday. Should I shift my publication date? Unlike some columns, I rely
heavily on Astrology for the comments I make. I can't run a Monday through Sunday
column work in a Thursday through Wednesday paper, it just doesn't fit —
timing is all wrong. And the problem with being the boss, the top dog, the man
in charge, is there really isn't anyone I can call on for such a decision. I
gave up and had lunch with one Pisces at Threadgill's, got invited to a play
later this week, got grabbed by the red headed Capricorn, and while she got
tickets to some other play, I grabbed a cup of coffee at Texpresso, then we
boogied around until another Pisces caught up with us. Then it was down south
to get some catfish (all you can eat Monday night), but the restaurant was closed
for a company Xmas party. Instead of crashing the party, the red headed Cap,
the natural blonde Pisces, and myself tried the bakery place. Amazing. Amazingly
good. Just wonderful. My "blackened prime rib" [done rare] was more
like crippled, not cooked. The poor Cancer server was wondering if the cow was
still alive. Then, seeing as how I was the male in the group, it was off to
see the Xmas lights on 37th Street. 37 and 1/2 Street (across from Amy's on Guadeloupe) I knew the short cut. See: there's this little residential street,
and the folks spend most of their year getting ready for the Xmas spectacular.
It is an amazing show, stopping traffic, and generally showing that native ingenuity
— and in some cases, a bizarre sense of humor. Area 51 was the first light
show that was spectacular, complete with a UFO. Around the corner, there was
a Wizard of Oz theme, as well as a life size cardboard cutout of the King. No
place but Texas.
12/18
Some Sundays can be really long days. Breakfast with the Capricorn guys at Magnolia.
Then I have to get together a column for Monday's web posting. Then, because
it was the last shopping weekend until next weekend, I had to do a few last
minute things, like get that darned stuffed armadillo fredlet's been reminding me to find for her. It was a surgical military action, getting
into the mall, splitting up to cover the ground — in and out of the mall
in less than fifteen minutes. Of course, there was another fifteen minutes spent
wandering around the parking lot, usually an empty place, trying to locate the
big, red truck. Back at home, I'm really enthralled with the recent Bruce
Sterling book, Zeitgeist. Getting ready to leave town for a few days
is always hectic because as soon as I drag the old suitcase out from under the
bed, the phone starts to ring, "Kramer, I need to see you this week...."
Hey, a lot of work goes into these scopes, I mean, unlike some places that just
recycle their scopes every few weeks, or years, each scope here is custom crafted,
crunched up from the freshest ASCII, hacked together by the boys in the back
room, meticulously poured over by copy editors, and then finally launched into
the world of the web.
12/17
I suppose I'm a little spoiled, but after last night, that's twice I've seen
"Asleep at the
Wheel" during this holiday season. The strains of old swing tunes,
as performed by a Texas C&W Band, a little crossover, a little alt-country,
a little bit of what I've grown up on. Last night was the best, the Wheel at
the Spoke. That's Ray Benson's "Asleep at the Wheel" at the Broken
Spoke [in South Austin]. Arguably one of this town's better chicken friend steaks,
too. While waiting on the band to start playing, I was stuck between two Virgo's,
and we were discussing leather pants, because a patron had walked by, wearing
just such attire. I think there's a corollary between the amount of leather
jeans which appear as a fashion trend, a Republican voting public, and economic
conditions. This formula is still in hypothetical construction — don't
have all the details worked out yet. When the Wheel finally came on stage, the
crown of Ray's hat was less than half an inch from the ceiling over the stage.
I do a shuffling, half groping, variation of pushing a girl around the dance
floor kind of step, and I rather enjoyed myself. People watching is fabulous
as there is every range from real cowboys to drugstore cowboys to city slickers,
and given the Wheel's heritage, a few swing dancers as well. I shoved one of
the Virgo's around the floor for a while, and we got back out when the first
strains of "Hot Rod Lincoln" were strummed, but we noticed everybody
else was doing a variation of the jitterbug (I think that's what it is called)
so we just stood by the edge of the stage and watched, swaying to the tune.
Like many songs, this one is popular, and since the band has to run through
it just about every time, they've made a few little modifications. At the point
where the driver of the hot rod Lincoln gets arrested, Ray gave his version,
"The cop was half my size and half my age, then he called me 'son'....
I told him he couldn't arrest me because I was Asleep at the Wheel...."
12/16
It's taken a half dozen e-mail messages, but Earthlink/Mindspring has twice
told me I could get DSL service, and twice now, has backed out on the offer
— this time, they got as far as setting an appoiment for an installation.
I was talking to the cat while writing a scope, "Maybe you can't buy love,
but you can rent it for a little while...." She was non-plussed with my
comment, and wandered off to the bedroom — pointedly ingnoring me. Late
yesterday morning, after a rather hectic schedule of consultation and associated
chores, I got around to a little nap with the cat. I had no sooner drifted off
to sleep when there was a loud knock on the trailer's door: that Aries girl.
Okay, picture this, I'm dressed in black silk pyjama pants, a black t-shirt,
a bright purple terry cloth robe, barefeet. Hair all over the place. "Hi!"
I'm sure I was a sight. "No, next week, sure we'll get together then."
It takes a full round of opera to finsih writing a horoscope, that's four full
CD's worth. Fished an Xmas gift out of the post office (canned fish from up
north) and got a thank you note spooled up, ready to send. One of those busy
days being Southern. New web
cam link up.
12/15
Ides of December? I've got to get some new jokes.
I was exchanging e-mail with Pa Wetzel, he was quizzing me about possible Xmas
gifts. As I looked around my tiny trailer, I realized there is nothing that
I want for. It was, in fact, a copy of book he gave me last year that I finally
started using, The New York Times Manual of Style and Usage, because
I was having a pissing contest with an editor. [Not really, she was being
nice.] While this was going on, I was trying to outline an agenda for the day,
meet a client at Texpresso, stop by the bank, a little browsing in downtown
Austin? Oh, and right, George W is president — or will be, as the oracle
[moi] suggested. You voted Republican? That's your problem, not mine. "Let
me deal coldly with you" [Shakespeare's Two Noble Kinsmen, Act II,
scene ii, line 69]. I voted Green/Democrat — I can sleep at night with
a clear conscience. Working music for the day? Götterdämmerung —
all four CD's worth. Some how that fit with the politics. So I experimented
with my upper limits on coffee, and shopping, as the Pisces came along, scooped
me up from downtown, and whisked me off to a glimmering, shimmering Mecca for
retail, a jewel in the barren prairie: the outlet mall in San Marcos. I saw
brand name desert camo ladies underwear. I saw brand name snakeskin ladies underwear.
I saw Michael Bolton Xmas Tree ornaments. [For an outlet mall, at least at one
store, the prices were high, "regular retail, $29.00, special outlet price?
$29.95. What is wrong with this image?] We dined, after the mall had closed,
at Palmer's in San Marcos, per Bubba's advice. Good advice, one Gemini,
directing us to another Gemini (server). Pretty good grub. I think I've got the idea for the latest alt–country
phase sweeping the airwaves: Country Goth. You know, there was Grange Rock,
Punk Country, now — Country Goth — sort of a throwback to Johnny Cash's
"Man in Black" look, but with piercings added.
12/14
So much for weather, it felt like the temperature was heading for a more balmy
point by yesterday afternoon. This just in — the new
Air Force One. And while I was preparing that one file, I found another
one lurking on my hard drive. No idea where this came from. Raging Armadillos? "They're mad, they're not going to take it
any more. They will come and nibble on your ankles." It's fun to watch
a city frozen by a little drop in the temperature. Sporadic power outages, at
one store on South First, the guy behind the counter explained, "Electricity
went out at 4:30 AM." Gladly, Polvos was open and serving, and while we
were there, the lights flickered, went dim, and then came back on a few minutes
later. Traffic around town was dicey, as lights were out in a few places. Not
that it would bother any of the non–native transplants. Folks from Dallas
and Houston [not to mention further north] tend to ignore traffic lights pretty
much.
12/13
"She is lumpish, heavy, melancholy." [Two Gentlemen of Verona, III.ii.62]
— for the cat. Or about the cat, as she's not much fond of this cold weather.
Currently reading: The Bottoms by Joe
R. Lansdale, Screwjack by Hunter S. Thompson, Zeitgeist by
Bruce Sterling. The thought for this weather, wherein it never gets above freezing,
and there is the slightest icy precipitation, the question being, how many Stupid
Utility Vehicles will be wrapped around telephone poles, or buried in the bar
ditch around here? Two different girls called, just to make sure I was okay,
not wanting to have anything to do with changing me, but they did want to make
sure I had food. I'm still nibbling on Y2K disaster rations, myself. Knew that
case of chili with no beans would come in handy some time. The cat is the funniest.
She scratches at the door, I open it. She gets a face full of arctic air, meows
loudly in a complaining way, then wonders why I haven't done anything about
the cold weather. As if. "Lizards make bad lovers." [Rank and File]
I did stay up late and finish reading that book by East Texas native, Joe R.
Lansdale. It was either the gripping story, as the plot went careening along,
or maybe it was the attention to details, little observations about the way
the land feels, that sense of place which is so important in descriptive writing,
that method of describing the way the fly buzzes, or how a summer's day feel,
deep in the Piney Woods. To be fair, I was bothered by the racism in the book,
nothing like having a little Klan meeting to set my teeth on edge, but dealing
with just such a topic is sensitive, and it's well handled. As I understand
it, The Bottoms made some list of important crime fiction, one of the
year's best. [The author, for those interested, is a Scorpio.] It's so cold
out, I had to pull my boots on to scoot across to the Neighbor's trailer, just
to watch a little weather on the tube. No change — it's still really cold.
12/12
Weird things arrive at the FGS World headquarters office. Best one this week?
(It was only Monday.) A miniature Texas license plate, emblazoned with "Y'all"
on it. I think the note which came with it was better, though, "It only
took 50 boxes of Honeycomb™ cereal to get this one!" I get queasy
thinking about that much breakfast cereal. I wonder if that tag would make a
good dog tag for a hound
dog? I left the trailer yesterday afternoon, sort of a hike for exercise,
go to the bank and deposit money kind of trip. Glad I grabbed an extra heavy
duty shirt, too — at 1:55 PM, it was over 70 degrees, but by 2:18 PM, the
temp dropped about ten then fifteen degrees, the clouds obscuring the sun, and
the wind shifting around from the north. To the north [whatever]. It was cold,
all of a sudden. One minute, it's a beautiful fall day, a thin bead of perspiration
on my forehead, and the next, I'm wondering whatever possessed me to think I
could wander around with no shirt on in the middle of the winter. I did get
a chance to expound at length, to a friend of the Neighbor's, how this weather
is the perfect metaphor for dating Texas women, one minute, it's hot and sunny,
then, there's a change, and it's cold and icy. Go figure. "I could be right,
I could be wrong, it just might hurt, but it makes me strong, if the shoe fits,
wear and if the truth hurts, bear it...." [More from Hank III]
12//11
"Coyote why don't you leave me alone?" [Rank and File, circa 1982] "I might get drunk and rob a bank/shoot my car if it don't crank...."
[Hank III] I suppose I should add something to the biography which includes
old and new honky tonk music [although Rank and File was supposedly from an
LA punk scene — punks with cowboy hats]. But it was Hip Hop after the Hank
III. Horrors of horrors: I couldn't find that Xmas earring, the one which flashes.
It looks like an Xmas Tree bulb, which lights up. [Watch batteries in it] But
it's lost in this trailer someplace. At lunch yesterday, the Scorpio was talking
about bananas and men, and why one was better, although she liked men, "Because
you can keep them in the freezer." It's an interesting visual, and not
that uncommon for most of the Scorpio women I know. Maudie's,
been a long time since I've been there, and I've missed it. Food was good. Later,
I was supposed to accompany the red headed Capricorn to her company's Xmas party.
We had to stop for batteries for the earring, and yes, I finally did unearth
it. Now, I was just looking at the Aries scope for the week, and I had to take
a bit of my own advice, because the clerk was having a tough time trying to
process a card — always carry a little cash. This is the third or fourth
company party I've been to since Thanksgiving, and it was pretty good one. Hair
care specialists make for a lively crowd.
12/10
Fredlet had a cool/not cool list. As I recall, flying around the countryside wasn't
cool, but driving around was. I've got one to top that: taking a train around
the countryside. Sure, I was late leaving Ft. Worth, but there was a payoff,
Tommy's Burgers downtown. I had to resist — it wasn't easy — but I
did resist buying a new cowboy hat. It's not like I need another one, but the
wares for sale at the Peter
Brother's Hat Shop is a pretty attractive deal. If I only had an extra $500
to drop on a new lid. Not yet. A train ride back to Austin is no big deal, but
this was greatly improved by reading a good book, a spectacular sunset, and
a full Gemini Moon. Maybe
it was the full moon, maybe it was the beautiful weather, maybe it was the spooky
book, but I got home and did a bit of tweaking to the web site. What started
as a simple project kept me up for half the night.
12/9
I like this place: I was at the Paris Cafe yesterday morning. I snapped a couple
of digital picture, but unfortunately, none of the images turned out. While
I was art directing the food, I couldn't help but giggle at the way the crisp
bacon, stretched out underneath the two eggs, then the four biscuits on two
separate dishes all looked like a face. Either I've been reading too much about
Sister, or maybe there's some subliminal message in my breakfast foods. I met
an Aquarius buddy and her [boyfriend? significant other? date? coworker? roommate?
these Aquarius/Aquarius relationships are so hard to figure out.] for coffee.
Formerly of Ft. Worth, she's now in Seattle. I got a lame response to my talk
of "Grange Rock," another joke failed. But when we got around to cell
phones and computers, we got to communicating on the same level. The guy had
a Palm, "My company paid for this, so there were about 200 of these,"
and his had a custom logo on the cover, Ace
Freely. Oh yeah, made my day, hang out with a real Seattle guy, geek out
for a spell, and talk about important stuff like music. He looked at my Visor,
"You got any good games you can beam me?" "I've got an old copy
of 'Space Invaders,' but that game was old before you were born, if I recall...."
In a coffee shop, in Ft. Worth. "Dude, I worked in the video game
business." Good to see old friends. And the coffee was pretty good, too.
But this got me off on another tangent: hats. [Like cowboy hats.] The society
page of the Ft. Worth Star Telegram had pictures from the last multi-million
dollar fund raiser, and most of the guys were wearing cowboy hats. Try that
on for size in place else in the country.
12/8
"On the muscle of my arm, there's a red and blue tattoo, says 'Ft. Worth
I love you...'" [really old Michael Murphey song] "30 miles between
Dallas and Ft. Worth — the oddest of couples." [And I can't find that
quote's source] I love trains. There were a half dozen gray headed ladies toddling
off to the dining car — all wearing Santa hats. One passes back by with
a cardboard tray of snacks, the train lurches, she lurches, then she looks at
me, smiles, and says, "Drunk again." El Paso, Alpine, Del Rio, San
Antonio, San Marcos, Austin, Taylor, Temple, McGreagor, Cleburne — Ft.
Worth — it's the Texas Eagle. #21. Or #22, I can never keep that straight. Sister's
got herself a good press person, if you ask me. And Railhead BBQ is pretty
good. Cute shirt, too: "Life's too short to live in Dallas." Reckon
one must be from around here to understand that one.
12/7
"Waiting on a cold front/picking the meat right off the bone."
Bad news yesterday morning: one of my editors got fired. Good news yesterday
morning: I'll get a DSL hook up. Bad news: I make baby Sagittarius girls cry.
Good news: Sagittarius girls [who are very understanding] at Prima
Dora. Then, I had my own recount victory. I was passing by Jo's on South
Congress, and I stopped to get a big cup of coffee (double cappuccino). I pulled
out my frequent coffee card, handed it over, and the nice woman behind the counter
took one look at the card and said I could have a free cup of coffee. There
were two places where the card had been punched, but the punch didn't go all
the way through. "No recount problem here," she said, "free cup
of Jo." I think I just sort of stared with that stunned animal look. With
a new hat for Sister in bag, and a cup of coffee in the other hand, I ran into
the mail man — the guy who serves Shady Acres. He was in one of the more
upscale areas, not far from my low–brow home. I had to ask about the last
of the doughnuts. I had slipped him part of box of the warm ones yesterday.
It was a box I was trying to pawn off on the Capricorn, but she was too sly
for me. There were only a few of the doughnuts left, but he said he enjoyed
them immensely, and yes, he knew what they were, as he had family in the Deep
South. He had planned on taking some of the delicious lumps of yeast, sugar,
flour and sugar back his wife, but alas, the doughnuts didn't make it out of
his truck. I can honestly say I feel his pain. I hope this link works, it was a funny article. One of my lawyer friends suggested I read the
Left Coast papers to watch for trends — something I've actually been doing
for a while. Train ride
today.
12/6
No music morning. I was trying to get a grip on some upcoming deadlines, the
first of the month always reminds me of that. I tossed on what I had been wearing
Monday night [dollar movie night at the Alamo],
and waited because Miss Capricorn was supposed to shoot by to fetch me so I
could score a coat and some doughnuts. The line at the Krispy Kreme store stretched
out onto the highway. From listening to folks talk, the morning drive radio
airwaves had been abuzz with this new addition to Austin's culturally diverse
culinary landscape. It was a mad dash, but watching her eyes light up with that
first fresh doughnut, literally, less than minutes old, that sort of made up
for long wait, the mad dash, and yes, I did get the coat at something like 20%
off — more than offsets the price of the box of doughnuts. But all that
sugar coating on the doughnuts — do people really live on just doughnuts
and coffee? All that sugar, empty calories, next thing I know, I need to take
a nap. More doughnuts, another nap. People live like this? Isn't there supposed
to be something more to this diet? I knew I should've snagged some jelly filled
ones, too. The Neighbor is home — he announced his arrival with loud knocking
on my trailer's door. Funny thing: seeing a grown man standing there with Mickey
Mouse Ears, his name embroidered on the back. Guess he had fun in Disney Land.
12/5
Musical selections for an early Monday morning: old Prodigy, tribute album to
Suicidal Tendencies, Hank Williams III [Hank Three], George Strait [greatest
hits, the prototype "hat" act]. Hank Three segues nicely into old
Prodigy. No, really — they're both cutting edge new wave alternative next greatest thing music. The red headed Capricorn came along and rescued me
for an afternoon of fun. She did notice the almost empty box of doughnuts in
the ice box, "I had those for the first time, just last week." "You
know, the new store opens Tuesday, way up on 183," I suggested. "Dude,
I am so there." I got one of my best laughs in long time with her —
"Ma Wetzel offered you a ticket overseas if you cut my hair above my collar."
She laughed so hard; I laughed so hard my back ached. We did miscellaneous errands,
like shopping for extraneous stuff like office supplies and cat food. The one
pet food superstore has an adoption center there, and it's a challenge to get
out of there without taking home any new cats. However, both the Cap and myself
already have cats at home — and I doubt my [feline companion] roommate
would tolerate another one like herself — "Her Largeness," as
the Virgo refers to the cat. We did stop long enough to check out some coats
at a coat superstore, and I've been shopping for new winter wear — and
I hit the target. Now this is the difference between guy shopping and girl shopping:
the coat I liked, my size and everything, it will go on sale tomorrow morning.
I could save $15 if I come back in the morning. But I'm on a mission, and here
is the goal. Can I wait? As a guy, I would have to say, I'll just take it now,
in fact, I'll just wear it out the door. But the ever consistent Cap? "Look,
get them to put it back, and we'll pick it up tomorrow when we come up for doughnuts."
I'd pretend it was tough call, but red headed women are always right —
a hard lesson to learn, but that's the way it is. To follow up on the music
selections? "Interstellar Overdrive" [Pink Floyd, Relics, 1967].
12/4
"Them Georgia jails don't have such a beautiful view, and Fort Worth is
such a wonderful town I'll disappear into ..." Still dining on left over doughnuts. "Would
it still be considered sexy if you have to pull out the fire extinguisher?"
I guess it depends on whether you're playing fireman or not — but I was
just answering the question as a friend was getting ready to invite over a special
guest. I was still trying to decide if the fire extinguisher was a sexy or not.
Cold weather begs Texas Chili Parlor chili, the triple X variety. And, for that
matter, the Triple X chili is the closest I'm getting to a triple X rating.
In this case, it merely implies obscenely hot chili, which given the dark day's
and cold, damp weather, was just perfect. A little late night tweaking on the site, how long before someone notices?
Maybe it was the chili, maybe it was the doughnuts.
12/3
Shopping day, but it begs the question, why shop on a busy Saturday? I got out
very early, skipped the e-mails, and got after it. No luck at Sam's, but marginal
ideas elsewhere. Most interesting comment from yesterday's mail bag was an inquisitive
Aquarius wondering why the Dec.
4 scope wasn't up yet. Well, it's not here yet. I was wearing a "Krispy
Kreme Doughnuts" T-shirt [gift from a Virgo], and managed to wrangle
an invite to their Austin opening party. 'Asleep at the Wheel' was playing,
Ray Benson taking up most of the room in the tiny tent — my "date"?
Two Virgo's. Just sort of figures, way the week's been going, now doesn't it?
So Krispy Kreme Doughnuts have arrived in Austin (North Austin, doesn't look
like I'll get there too often, but it's a nice thought.) The production line
is visible through a plate of glass, the dough passes through the hot grease,
then air dries for a link or two, then the hot doughnuts pass through a curtain
of liquid sugar glaze. It's amazing. I was offered one of the hot doughnuts,
straight off the machine. Sheer culinary delight, still hot. Three of the four
major food groups are represented in a single Krispy Kreme doughnut: Sugar,
White flour and Grease. Oh yeah. Last summer, Bubba saw the Dwight Yoakum show,
and Hank III opened, "Man, he looks like his granddaddy, he sounds like
him, it was great...." I found one of the Hank III CD's last night. I'm
very impressed. This kid rocks. [Well, rocks if you like alternative country.]
12/2
I've been on a little kick lately, reading a lot of female authors. Nice stuff,
enjoying it immensely, but then I got into a philosophical discussion with the
cat about a point in the latest book I'm reading, with a gay male protagonist.
I was going some place with that thought, and lost it completely. I'm sure it
wasn't politically correct, but don't even think of asking whether I care —
I don't. The Fort
Worth train station I've passed through several times this last year —
looks like I'll be back in Cow Town soon. The Mac version of Napster
is up. Maybe that's old news for some, but I was pleased, having never played
with it before. I just have to wait until I get a big hard drive and that DSL
hook up running. Sister
gets another really nice plug. That San
Francisco Chronicle story was quite nice. I remember how "angst ridden"
she was, just last Monday and Tuesday. But as a performer, I know what it's
like, it's hard to live up to the hype. Tried to go to Guero's last night, but
the place was too packed. Same held true for Polvos, "Yeah, well, you can
put it in your journal now, it's been discovered," noted the Pisces.
12/1
Only 25 days left to buy
me that big gift. Better yet, send money to my favorite charity: me. Continuing
yesterday's musical theme, from that same CD, "Only the good die young."
And seeing as how this is still birthday time (milk this one, Bubba), looks
like I'm not good. Got a postcard from the Tate Gallery in London. Which reminds
me of the Pink Floyd Animals Tour. [Yes, I was there, more or less, with a heavy
dose of "less" I would guess.] Answer to a question I had about the
brevity of the average punk rock song: "yeah, punk songs are short because
the drummer can't play more than 2 minutes without getting worn out...."
The Virgo answering the question is a drummer, so he should know —
but it only makes sense to me, too. Spookiest thing thus far this morning: I
got a question from an editor about the lyrics for the "El Paso" song,
and two moments later, I get a message from El Paso. [Before coffee, anything
is spooky.]
11/30
>29, eh?
>Never underestimate the power of exfoliants..
Oh yes. Now if I could just exfoliate my brain today. Been a long week already.
I grabbed the cell phone, pointed it at the CD player and punched the keypad,
trying to get it to cycle the CD's. It looked like the remote, you know. It
was an honest mistake. I was trying to decipher the lyrics from a 1974 album
before the opera stuff came up. "I'm on a southwestern pilgrimage to be
a frontier sonneteer...." I was on my way out of the trailer last night,
off to have Sushi with my Aquarius babe friend, and the Neighbor, and his Cap
buddy were looking at Venus and the Moon lined up with each other. I told one
of the recent jokes off the joke
list. The Cap looks at the Neighbor, "It must be hard living next door
to him." Now, Sushi is fairly predictable, good, but the same, me with
my eyes watering, in the middle of Wasabi–induced stupor, murmuring sweet
nothings to the Texas Roll. Then the Aquarius suggested shopping, but as fate
would have it, everything was closed but Amy's. Herein should end the tale,
but no, there was THE MOST amazing music on their sound system, sort of a punk
version of an 80's song. I had to ask. The only guy working was Taylor, at the
Amy's at the Arboretum store. I told him it was my birthday, to see if I could
snake a little free ice cream. [Remember the other night? That was paid for.]
No problem, got the free dish of vanilla bean. But the music — it was wonderful.
Great fun to hear the "Best of the 80s" compilation done by hard core
punk bands. "Yeah, my buddy scraped it off the net with Napster,
then burned a CD. Bunch of punk cover songs from the 80's." "Keep
on whispering in my ear, telling me all those things you'll do.... what I like
about you...." Thrashing my way through the era? Most good punk cuts are
only about two and half minutes long. Best treatment of some old cover songs
— maybe an entire era which is musically best forgotten. "Wasn't that
a song Sting did?" "The Police." Perhaps the best birthday present
I've ever gotten. "99 Red Balloons." Then a better version of Soft
Cell's "Tainted Love."
11/29
"Here's the cool website."
Something about couch surfing with all female hosts — a guy like me heads
into the bathroom, and it's a test, a pop quiz in life, to determine which one
is soap. "Not that one, it's for feet, or 'no, you don't want to use that...'
[and I don't want to know why I don't want to use it.]" Yesterday morning,
after waking upon the Leo's couch, we got back together with Sister for coffee
at Peet's. Sister was still
a little frantic about her upcoming show. Must be a family trait, she had a
note taped to her chest, "Toilet paper, toothpaste." Sounds like stuff
she really needs. Then after getting properly fueled up again, we walked back
over to the grocery store to pick some more props for Sister's Xmas gig [working
title: the Wrapping Paper Caper]. I found the tape, she found the dinner rolls,
I stepped up to the top of the freezer section to get her more wrapping paper,
and then we headed to check out line. And again, I'm reminded it was my birthday
as Sister told the checker and the checker announced it over the PA, "It's
Kramer's birthday today. He's 29. [She checked me out closely] Again."
I was bright red, but I must admit, I've never had my birthday announced in
an Oakland supermarket before. Arriving at the airport, I was grateful Sister
had to hustle on to her rehearsal, as the Leo reminded me, "If your sister
was here, she'd stop the car and announce it." From there, it was a miserable
time with United Airlines. Never, ever fly their "less than friendly skies"
because the ticket people will jerk you around, the ground personal are cold
and heartless, and somewhere in the corporate chain, there exists a senior management
person who obviously can't think correctly. Who ever thought about not having
any contingency planning for cloudy mornings in San Francisco? Imagine that,
it might be foggy there? Why, "Who'd a–thunk it?" San Francisco
fog, it's like saying Texas is hot in the summer. But I got home, hit the ground
running, and it was drinks at Guero's with another Sag [and that Aries waitress],
then dinner, then a sweet Cancer girl making us ice cream at Amy's, for a night
cap — although, I'm not sure I can hang with the idea of "Nyquil"
ice cream. After such a long day, I needed no prompting to sleep. I just hope
the boys [and girls] in the back room here at FGS World HQ don't see this.
11/28
"Be a little worried about me?" I was trying to appeal to Sister's
better nature. She was busy freaking out because she has a show coming up, "I
have to toast the rolls; they make better puppets." See, the guy at the
counter in Monterey said my flight was running late because of weather delays
in San Francisco. Like this is any surprise. So, instead of flying, we drove
up. Then, quick as could be, Sister drops me off with one of her friends, a
mighty Leo, and we hopped on down to Peet's,
for some of Oakland's good coffee. A burrito at the Burrito Shop held us over
until we could Sister packed off to her rehearsal. She was a bit manic about
the show she has coming
up. While she rehearsed, since I was stuck in San Francisco with no clean clothes,
and instead of doing the obvious thing, like a load of laundry, I decided, with
the expert guidance of the Leo, that buying a black T-shirt would be the way
to go. Ever try to shop in downtown San Francisco, on Monday night? To be honest,
after a little looking, I did wind up with a shirt, but the trip also necessitated
a stop by Oiri Restaurant for some Japanese cuisine — their sushi Bar is
closed on Monday nights. I toured Nordstrom's from the top floor to the basement.
And we met the most incredible pen salesman (the pen shop in the Nordstrom building)
in the world. "Gemini. Monkey. You do numerology? It all adds up."
Most near walked out of there with some $400 pens which are were completely
unnecessary — until you meet this salesman. He was slick. When we picked
Sister up again, after her rehearsal, the tone was a little different, from
"I'm never going to do this again — I've got to find a real job,"
to the more [my] Sister–like, "Yes, it's starting to come together,
we've almost got this sorted out...." Arts run in the family — I'm
just glad she got the Gemini mania, not me.
11/27
I took a long hike yesterday afternoon. Sister couldn't understand why I didn't
want to hike with her, but she has this frenzied pace I just can't hang with.
Slow down, look at the animals, the gray squirrels, the fox, the camp robbing
jays, okay, this is enough nature for now. I liked coming out of the cabin and
seeing some sweet doe there [I'm thinking it would be good roasted or in chili,
or maybe, there's enough for both]. One morning Sister walks up and she is transfixed
by the sight of three young bucks, deer bucks, with their little antlers, and
skittish expression, big brown, watery eyes, cold, wet deer noses. I think I'm
rested and ready for a slightly more chaotic pace — enough communing with
California's nature. Another day for airports and stuff. Maybe not. United Airlines
(I knew there was a reason I didn't want on this flight) was late from Monterey
so I would have missed the flight to Austin from SFO, so I'm now stranded in
CA. What a terrible hardship it is. And the so–called "customer service"
guy was cool, calm, and useless.
11/26
The nice thing was, I celebrated my birthday with my family so I don't have
to worry about anymore messy parties. Got that one out of the way. Sister and
I were sharing memories about growing up, and Ma Wetzel's proclivity for saving
wrapping paper to use again. As I unwrapped one package — cool stuff for
a writer, Venetian Glass pens — Ma Wetzel was longingly eyeing the wrapping
paper. "Like it?" I asked. "Yes, looks good — we could get
at least two or three seasons out of that one...." [Ma Wetzel trailed off.]
After packing the folks off yesterday morning, Sister and I hopped up the road
a ways to grab some coffee. I spied a doughnut looking thing in the pastry window
and got one, as well. Sister, like this has been a theme for the the last week,
"Oh, that looks good, can I have a bite?" "You never liked donuts."
"Yeah, but it's on your plate therefore I want it."
11/25
Pack the folks off to airport, then it's just Sister and me. My mother had fallen
asleep listening to "Götterdämmerung," and my Sister leans
over to me, and whispers in my ear, "They're so sweet when they're asleep,
they look like little angels, and they're so quiet. They can be good at this
age, you know...." Our laughter rousted Ma Wetzel from her little impromptu
nap, "I was just listening to the 'Twilight of the gods' you know...."
Good save. [Not really, but it is vacation time, and allowances must be made.]
11/24
"Just wait, you get a vodka martini in his hand, and just wind him up,
then listen to him go. He has the mythology, the story line itself, feminism,
women in his life, a little of our family history, you know, a little bit of
everything works into his explanation...." Sister was explaining her version
of Wagner's epic "Ring" Cycle, the great opera. And she was also explaining
how our uncle does this little talk before hand, and the talk itself is worth
the price of admission. We're all looking forward to the spectacle in Seattle
next summer. It was the topic because it was family business, I guess. We did
the early dinner thing, and suddenly;y, around 9:00 PM last night, just after
Venus had set, casting a strong enough shine to cause a reflection from the
one planet's light on the waves of the Pacific, just after I saw all that, had
taken it all in, I think I hit that collective feeling of "why did I eat
so much?" At the restaurant, there was a couple there with a pair of kids,
and Ma Wetzel just had a terrible time, she wanted to lean over and suggest
that the two year old and 6 year old were better behaved than her own children.
Sister and I had to agree.
11/23
The weird thing about being in CA, on the edge of the world, it's the time zone
change for me. It's not a like, a lot of time zones, just a few. At dinner the
first night, my father was busy suggesting I get an "over active"
imagination from my mother's side of the family. My mother was busy suggesting
I got it from "your father, oh yes, his sister writes a lot like that too,
you know." I snuck out with Sister for a cup of coffee, around the corner from the motel. California sunshine,
Sister, me, and the things I heard, "I always learned about drugs from
you," when I admonished her for having sugar with her caffeine, "oh
yes, you taught me best." Thanks Little Sister [wait, that could be a song].
And categorically, I deny everything Sister suggests that I taught her. But it was fun doing not much of anything. I think
Sister and I accomplished maybe 15 minutes of shopping, which given our genetic
donors predisposition, is rather amazing. "And then after the next double
Cappuccino, you can fix my computer." It was her dream for the night. I
don't think I ever got around to touching her machine.
11/22
[No complaining, it's all here in the archives.]
Cab to the airport (6:00 AM red eye flights really lets one figure out who one's
real friends are — no one wants to haul my butt to the airport before the
sunrise.) Then, at the airport itself, there was one of the musician friends,
and I'd been meaning to call him about the theme song I've been working on.
A certain Scorpio Texas author suggested it was an FAA regulation to have a
screaming baby in the seat behind me. Seems to be that way — more truth
than fiction. Except I wound up with a kicking screamer behind me. I wonder
which gods of airport traffic I've irritated now. SFO, crowded, fogged in, raining.
But a hundred miles south? I figure half an hour on the ground in Austin, then
three hours' worth of flight to SFO,
then another hour's worth of work in the airport was pretty good battery life.
Fetched this note up while I was Ferndale:
>>By the way, I really like your site.
>>Unlike most astrological material on the net, it gives an intelligent
>>impression.
Definitely left an impression, the cool [cold by my standards] night sky, a
rain storm, then that aching [yes, it hurts to look at] clear air, clean air,
a little fire burning in the fireplace, and the stars, what a sight. Crystal
clear viewing last night, no wonder so many people fall in love with California,
it's like this is the very edge of the world. "Why don't you ever write
anything nice about Scorpio?" [Oh yes, this is a family vacation, what's
my family getting together without a little incessant Scorpio wit?] You see,
Sister won the toss of the coin, T-Day in CA, Xmas in CA. [B-Day in Texas].
