Taurus 2001 Journal
5/20
Short note after a long day at work in the Permian Basin: "Bubba, it don't
get more Texas than this."
It was an evening dash after dinner, long enough to snap that single shot of
a pawn store, something rather evocative about the area.
5/19
Thanks for noticing.
From yesterday's mail bag:
> I found your page with descriptions of the
> signs -- nifty stuff -- and being a writer, and thus narcissistic, I went
> ahead and read the Cancer one -- and as you wrote, "Look out baked
goods" I
> recognized that I was chomping down on a piece of homemade zucchini bread,
> with zucchini picked from my garden. Go figure.
Back to back e-mail, this one was next:
> I've seen the new pages by way of the "Abyss"
menu option. I'll spare you the
> longwinded version of my critique and just say it's VERY cleverly and
> tastefully appointed - but then, you've seen my hairdo.
Nice send off. Lunch was barely at the county line, in Dripping Springs, at
the Nutty Brown Cafe. Basic burger fare — the call of the open road. As
we piloted along through the Texas countryside (390 miles), the recent spring
rains made everything lush, relatively speaking. Turning off the interstate,
doing some back roads, first the Virgo driver, and then me, both of us noticed
the cactus blooms. Never did a good picture of some, but I
did snap a few shots of rather luscious Prickly Pear blossoms, yellow and
rose. What I wanted was a picture of some of the spiny purple blossoms, but
I was unwilling to risk life–threatening dismemberment, crawling over a
rusty barbwire fence, in order to fetch such a close up. Check in, roll over
to Odessa for dinner at Dos Amigos, affectionately called "Dose" by
the local populace. Bull ride arena, in a restaurant, no where but Texas. My
friends inferred that I was smitten by the Libra waitress, "12 minutes
before you asked [her birthday], a new record."
5/18 ["Music triggers some kind of response" — Chemical
Brothers]
While at the bookstore on Wednesday afternoon, fredlet and myself hounded the
Cancer poet girl to read a little Carl Hiaasen, after all, the Cancer was from
Florida, and that whacked out stuff might be good entertainment, mind candy
from the drudge work of being such a wonderful academic. Yesterday morning,
this fell down the virtual vacuum tube, from a Cap:
> The whole time I was reading Sick Puppy, [by
Carl Hiaasen]
> I pictured the main character, Twilly Spree, as looking like you . . .
I was actually quite honored — and very amused — by the comparison.
Mr. & Mrs. fredlet popped in and out all day yesterday. Lunch at Hyde Park,
then, a fabulous dinner consisting of many parts of fish that looked like they
would all make excellent bait. Mrs. fredlet was astounded by my consumption
of wasabi. I didn't see the big deal, but she was busy snapping pictures of
the stuff. And that sweet Pisces joined us, interestingly enough, she introduced
herself as "no longer the sweet Pisces, just a Pisces now." Off to
the Permian Basin
this morning, but this note from yesterday explains what I'm looking forward
to:
> Dude, the boss said to tell you we'll swing by and pick you up around noon
> tomorrow, so ask the old lady in the first trailer to chain them dogs.
I
> just cleaned the tires on the Tahoe, and I don't need no stinking dogs
> pissing all over them.
5/17
Hanging around computer guru types is always amusing. Combine that with a little
bit of the dry Capricorn humor I enjoy, and I get to hear things about "Wireless
networking is the killer app — imagine sitting on the porcelain, and reading
your e–mail?" "Yes," as the Leo chimed in, "just don't
send any attachments." This lack of sleep and lack of exercise sure gets
in the way of the usual scheduled naps and hikes, not sure I like this "work"
experience. But as I dashed out the door, I couldn't quite read the note at
the top of the charts, it either said 2 or 4, meaning either 2:00 PM or 4:00
PM, and I had another engagement at 4:00, so I hoped for the best. It was the
worst, had to be rescheduled for later. I was with Mr. & Mrs. fredlet, walking
around the Half Price Bookstore, along with a Cancer, and it happened twice,
there was some guy in there with a long ponytail and an orange Hawaiian shirt.
"I kept thinking he was you, what are the chances of that?" Chances
of what? "Chance of some guy with long hair and an orange Hawaiian shirt."
Me and the fredlets did a little late night browsing at the CD store. I picked
up a Hank Williams Sr. disc and some new Chemical
Brothers. Nice mix. "Why don't you love me like you used to do? My
hair's still curly and my eyes are still blue...." [Hank Sr.]
5/16 [Feast Day of St. Brendan, Irish Patron Saint of Sailors]
Ruby throat, ruby chest sparrow at the birdfeeder. I was answering a business
call, arranging for reading appointment next week, and I was just so embarrassed:
Duran Duran was going the background. What's worse, this a CD I recently bought.
So I only paid $1.98, for a short "greatest hits" version, but there's
something in there. Over produced, 80's pop, yeah, I know, but I still have
a certain aural affection for "Girls on Film." It's personal, dating
back to being in the nightclub business. The VJ [I sure hope the statute of
limitations is up] mixed up a video that was certainly a lot more interesting
than the original. So it's one of the few memories I have from a time when I
was little less — or more — lubricated. But it's a just a horrid situation
to be talking to someone on the phone, and "The Reflex" is blaring
as a musical backdrop. Mr. & Mrs. fredlet
dropped by for some late night dinner and conversation. A quick meal with them
and Bugboy at the Magnolia. Promises for bat watching soon. News from various
ends of the computer biz. Tales from their road trip. Then, as a special "Route
66" gift: the fredlets' got me a stuffed Jackalope. Perfect. I'll be in
Jackalope Country this
weekend.
5/15
I'm still up in
the air about going to New England, but there's only one reunion, and I've
got at least two other Austin events this year. But I sure could use the money.
I wasn't having too much fun yesterday morning, doing the business as usual
thing, and the trivia question wasn't getting any good answers (okay, one fun
one, but that was it), so I strolled out and spent part of the afternoon trying
to synchronize a pedometer Pa Wetzel had given me. It hooks into the handheld
for an accurate count of everything. Long about halfway into a four, then six
mile hike, I realized it might just be a perfect day: no shirt. But tragedy
struck as I snagged a paycheck out of my mailbox, in order to deposit that check,
I had to go into the bank, and to go into the bank, I had to put on a shirt.
And as long as I was wearing a shirt, I might as well pick up a sandwich for
supper. Total time? Less than an hour. An otherwise perfect spring day ruined
by having to wear a shirt for almost an hour.
5/14
I keep getting drawn back to a beach on the Gulf Coast — Mustang Island
— more a large sand bar rather than anything else. Spending even a day,
even an afternoon, in the area is always revitalizing. Something about getting
home with sand still between my toes, the ultra fine grit everywhere on my body,
something about a little time by the salt water, and all the bad stuff fades
away. I still don't like what Mother Nature does to them poor, little guy Sea
Horses, but I guess that's the luck of the draw.
5/13
In nature, like in the Corpus Christi Bay, where fish are plentiful, there's
the seahorse. You know what happens to a guy seahorse? He gets the woman seahorse
pregnant, she unloads the fertilized eggs on him, and then, somehow, he's stuck
with birthing and raising all those little seahorses. And carrying them inseminated
eggs before any of this happens. College funds for baby seahorse. Does that
mean he gets to celebrate Mother's Day?
5/12
Driving to the Gulf, sweeping over that one, last set of hills, on down to the
low sand dunes. It begins long about the time we roll through San Antonio, there's
a change, a shift, the pace slows down, the topography flattens out, and the
scenery becomes a little more lush. There's a special place called Snoopy's
[fresh fried food] where I like to stop and eat. Riding in a truck isn't exactly
tiring exercise, but telling stories is. "Dude, you can pick them."
The way it was described to me, the commercial fishing boats back up the restaurant's
pier, the fish are herded through the batter and flop into the grease. What
can I say? The locals showed me the place, and I've been going back ever since.
Now where's that lucky hat? "Women want me, fish fear me."
5/11
Reminds
me I need to get OS X. Cold feet, too, about travel. No, not this fishing trip,
the New England run, in June. This weekend, I'm looking forward to lots of sunblock,
lots of beach, lots of fish, and lots of nothing else. The simple life. I want
to live like my cat, as I watched her yesterday morning. Her goal? Stay awake
for a little while after her breakfast. Ma Wetzel ruined the weekend, though,
as I was originally set to leave out Thursday night, but she showed up and demanded
Mother's Day time. Scorpio's just don't seem to take "no" as an answer.
So I collected her at the hotel, wandered off downtown to eat at some fancy
place, then — caught Ma Wetzel by surprise — I picked up the check.
Burned her a CD with all my latest photos, a home movie, got her a T-shirt with
pink flamingos, and dinner. Then, we wandered down to see the shoe shine girl,
and see about the latest bid I have for her daughter. What else? Bubba's old
girlfriend was in town, workshopping some new age stuff, and she asks her teacher
where to get a good reading. "Kramer? You mean THE Kramer? Kramer Wetzel?"
Mars, man alive, is bringing all sorts of old friends together again.
5/10
>round about 5/9/01 7:01 AM, ya'll Canlindo@aol.com
said:
|> Man, are you overflowing with self-importance. Looks like you really need
the
|> spotlight more than you want to help people. Do the readers of astronet
a
|> favor. Take your act someplace else and make room for someone who's more
|> helpful.
Don't complain to me: complain to the editors at astronet.
I took a really long walk yesterday. Not that I needed it, I was feeling pretty
good about myself as I was just finishing up another column. Funniest thing
about that column I ghost write, it is exactly what that whining letter was
about — fits that one person exactly — and it's nothing I would ever
sign my own name to, either. I got in, had about half a loaf of Pecan Butterscotch
bread I just scored at the Farmer's market, poured myself the first huge glass
of home–made Mint Hibiscus tea, and the phone rings. "Yeah, whatcha
want?" "Kramer? Kramer Wetzel?" "Uh, yes." I hate unsolicited
sales calls or people looking for that free reading, calling me in my
trailer. "Uh, dude, did you ever find that condom you lost?" No joke,
I laughed almost hard enough to cry. High school. A long time ago. In a galaxy
far, far away.... Looks like I'm going to a high school reunion next month.
No, not some place I graduated from, but my one year in a boarding school back
east. Way back east. In state smaller than my ego these days — according
to some. I love a road trip!
5/9
Writing is therapeutic for me. I also write to amuse myself, first and foremost.
A brilliant astrologer once suggested the problem with astrology was taking
it all too seriously. I swiped that sentiment, "The biggest problem with
astrology is astrologers."
>round
about 5/8/01 10:04 PM, ya'll canlindo@aol.com
said:
> sign: Cancer
> Your scopes are pretty much worthless because all you do is talk about
> yourself in them &
> the real kernel of info to us nets out to about l sentence. Why don't you
get
> the spotlight off yourself & give signs more helpful information. It's
not
> about you, it's about how you "guide" us. Or is it?
Where to draw the line? Some people keep me on a retainer. Other clients book
my time by the hour.
When I get e–mail like that, I think to myself, "Self, get job, fly
a desk someplace, do a little real work." Now, I spent all of yesterday,
or the greater portion of it, in an office, browsing the web, trying to figure
out why one link wasn't working right. The regional representative was there,
and she pointed out a few copyright issues, but those were easily and quickly
resolved. I just put what pieces I'm directed to place, where I'm told to put
them. But 8 hours straight through, under the fluorescent lights, that was enough.
I had to wear shoes (sandals, really) all day long. But everything was working
right, by the time I left. Dinner was such a treat — Pisces to the rescue.
I've been to Gino's before, but last night, it was just perfect. Italian Cheese
Enchiladas, one of those dessert crispy tortilla taco things, a fresh pack of
American Spirits, and I whinnied about needy people sending me e–mail.
My Pisces friend was experiencing much the same problem. The people watching
was better than it had ever been, as far as I was concerned. And the server
was a cheery Cancer woman with nice hair. Then I looked up the chart for the
moment, Jupiter was just getting past being opposite Pluto. I'm really glad
that's over. As someone with some understanding of the cosmic forces at work,
the Saturn/Pluto deal coming up ain't going to be pretty. I looked back over
my own words, and then slapped my forehead, what was I thinking? What's worse
than being talked about? Not being talked about! [attributed to Oscar Wilde.]
5/8
Monday morning in Austin, after the Sunday night weather thrashing, the surface
of the river had little eddies with mulch and muck, but the sky was clear blue,
washed clean. Even the air felt fresh. I was looking over my travel notes, and
I had this one about my desert travels, how the most important thing to carry
is not water, but lip balm. On various westward trips, I've forgotten tapes,
printer ink, cables, software, flyers, but I've never gone without lip balm
[Carmex, Chapstick, Beeswax, & etc.]. I wonder how I survived all those
years in the desert without some kind of lip medication? Going back out there
after living the soft and easy life in Austin — makes for a sharp contrast.
My red headed Capricorn fetched me up — "Dude, I'll be right there,
I'm leaving in five minutes, no really, I am...." Three hours later, she
finally showed up. I wasn't the least bit upset, she just got a cable modem.
If it had been me, I'd still be playing on line. We did the long walk, and took
a detour by Hut's for hamburgers, fries and a shake. Did wonders for both the
physical and spiritual well–being of both of us. This
is what I like to read in an e–mail:
> sign: Scorpio
> TalkToKramer: Hey dude, you were so 100% right.
And this:
> sign: Aquarius
> TalkToKramer: Just wanted to say thank you, I ordered my chart from you
last
> November and this week in particular it saved me from setting myself up
from a
> large disappointment.
5/7
One minute, I'm in heaven, floating along in a cloudless desert day, and then,
less than two hours later, I'm back at the desk in my Austin trailer, answering
mail, getting stuff done, and my stomach is going bad. I had such a wonderful
time in El Paso, and the delight of the Saturday night BBQ, and then, here I
am, facing deadlines, trying to figure out how to get everything done before
the next big fishing trip. The El Paso morning, as I got up from the couch,
the sunlight streaming through my hostess's windows [did I ever mention how
much I like Aries fire? Or double Aries fire?] That El Paso sunlight has a very
different quality to it — like it's bright yellow and clear, not like a
muddy afternoon sun in Austin. Which, yesterday afternoon, I got a chance to
sample as I walked up the hill to Magnolia for breakfast with the Austin Journal
group. Off the airplane, shake the El Paso dust off my sandals, and stroll up
the hill. Strange group. There was an oddly mutable flavor to the crowd. I kept
getting shuffled to the head of the table, and I'm not sure I liked that position.
It's also the first group of writers I've encountered wherein I felt totally
at home. Not out of my element. Sort of weird. I still think that the breakfast
place I'd been at in El Paso, two mornings in row, I still figure that's the
best it's been in a long time. At the corner of Shadow Mountain and Mesa Drive,
the Pastry Chef. I did manage to change up the advertising stuff: finally: nothing
but products I like and/or use. Last night, a thunderstorm blew through town,
"I like thunderstorms and neon signs."
5/6
The whole purpose of my quick flight to and from El Paso was ostensibly business
development. Location scouting, too. I'm in El Paso a half dozen times a year
as it is, I just never get to relax when I'm there. So I had about 24 hours
of non–scheduled time. We cruised up to New Mexico, and I got a couple
of killer photo opportunities, like me with a dance troop from old Mexico, like
me with a pack of border patrol guards, like me in front of the requisite NM
blue doorway. The adobe shots, you know, that staple of southwestern photography.
Then, meandering — I am the master of meandering — back to El Paso,
we passed in front of the strangest site, a tractor that looked like it was
painted all sliver. "Border Art Residency" was the place, and they
had all manner of strange stuff. Closer inspection revealed the tractor was
a normal John Deere, it just had aluminum foil taped over it. All over it. Dinner
on Saturday night was a bit if surprise, there not being a show in town, a few
folks found me a little unexpected. I had the best time with Grace, Bubba, and
the rest of the crew. Something as simple as a backyard BBQ sure sets itself
apart, under the cool, desert sky, the almost full moon wheeling by overhead,
the BBQ grill fired up with burgers and brats (Bratwurst). Of course, there
was a special "field trip." But more about that later — maybe.
5/5
I caught a cab to the airport, yesterday morning. The driver had blonde dreadlocks,
and he was listening to early Beatles music — stuff that might have been
released before he was born. Through the exigencies of the long distance digital
pipeline, I fished this one out of the virtual mailbag:
>ok, this is fyi because I'm really impressed. This is maybe the
>third year I've ordered stuff from you but
>I never realized how good you were.
That works. So does a place called "Cattleman's." It's ranch, it's
stockyard, it's a restaurant. My Aries hostess ["Make that a double!"]
recommended the "cowboy" two pound T-bone. I almost picked up the
perfect gift for Mother's Day, but I resisted the urge, in the gift shop next
door, a T-shirt that read, "Vegetarian: Indian word for lousy hunter."
5/4
"You're cranky these days," said the note. That's because most of
the folks I talked to were irritable. I can only be happy and joyous for so
long. Yes, I did the morning show yesterday with Johnny the Cancer DJ guy. ["Jammin
105.9 Jammin' Oldies"] [Which, I'm sure, begats another question, as their
tag line goes, "What is a jamming oldie?"] And his Virgo staff. Then,
when I checked my e-mail, I had a whole bucketful of mail, and almost to the
letter, the notes were demanding. Frankly, I'm getting a little tired of folks
demanding I give them a reading right now, and for free. It's not likely to
happen. Wouldn't that make you a little cranky? I'm used to be courted a little
bit. Long walk helped me immeasurably. I was just passing south of downtown,
on a shortcut, and I caught the barest flicker of movement out of the corner
of my eye, a bird, and it was one of the everyday [maybe crested, I don't know]
herons, up by a boat dock. Rather elegant looking. Off to the airport, and another
day on airplanes. After a week of folks demanding free readings, I'm not sure
I'll answer any e-mail for a day or two.
5/3
"Hold on, hold on, I can't type and hold onto the phone," I love doing
tech support for my family, "don't send me e-mail, send me a fax."
[Ma Wetzel on the phone, but at least she read her e-mail.] Apple's new iBook,
a lot like my Titanium PowerBook? I suppose, that's the problem with bleeding
edge technology. She doesn't know it, but I can type and talk on the phone —
the advantage of a headset [and read the Apple web site at the same time.] I
was saddened yesterday by the sight of a large snake floating in an inlet near
the power plant, on the east loop of the hike and bike trail. I like it over
there, a little more rugged, a little more wildlife, and seeing the big feller
floating along, very dead, bothered me. It was probably, judging from the markings,
a Texas Rat Snake. A fairly big snake, eats rodents and such. I'd seen a similar,
if not the the same one, very close to the same place, nearly a year ago. If
it's the same one, it wasn't poisonous or dangerous in any way. Not particularly
pretty, but not an ugly critter, either. Now, if it was a Water Moccasin, those
guys are just plain mean. Moccasins are the same family as rattlesnakes, too:
pit vipers. That big old Texas Rat? He was just as harmless as could be. And
I don't want to sound cranky or nothing, but I'm getting awful tired of going
to bed right after sundown so I can get up early in the morning. Like today:
I have to be at the radio station at 6:00 AM. I'm missing my nightlife.
5/2
I was reading a vampire book [The
Cowboy and the Vampire] the last few nights, and I know how useful my cat
is for protection when I'm asleep. I've taken to sleeping with a cross, even
though I don't believe that stuff. The cat has also taken to napping at my feet
during the morning, instead of her usual places. It's cute, but it makes for
poor content on the kitty
cam. Useless facts from some survey: Ease Of Use/Navigation: 74% Regularly
Updated Information: 58% Quality Of Content: 57% Access To Customer Service:
40% — which would suggest that writing the scopes is a lot less important.
I should spend my time designing an easy to navigate web site. Regular updates
aren't needed. Right. I believe everything the experts tell me. I'll just run
this week's scope next week. After all, I should be spending more time —
according to experts — making the site easier to navigate and faster loading.
Best e-mail I got all day? Hanging out with a Sagittarius saves on therapy bills.
Lunch downtown, and instead of a long hike, I just ambled through a few stores,
picked up some light [airport] reading for this weekend. I was proud, got home,
pulled the receipt out of the book, and stuck the new
book in my bag for
the next trip. As a confirmed bibliophile, that's a difficult task.
5/1
I could've told you that.
It's such an abrupt turn, I was cruising along in East Austin, on the hike and
bike trail, just digging on the day and grooving along, watching a rap star
shoot a video.... Wait, if it's shot with reel film, not a camcorder, can it
be called a video? Loping along at a sedentary pace, sort of feeling good. When
I wandered back into the Shady Acres compound, though, there was turn for the
worse. Maybe before, as the sandwich maker called me "ma'am." Hey,
it happens, didn't ruffle my feathers. Might have called me "man,"
for all I know. I ran into another resident, and he was muttering foul things
about the management. A column was sent back for a rewrite. Exactly 43 people
wanted my attention focused on their problems, just as soon as I hit the door.
14 phone calls later, I finally got a break as fredlet called to let me know
that 1] Washington State is beautiful, and 2] she and her honey would be passing
through Austin Town. I was holding forth in loud voice about the workload around
here, and I quoted my hourly rate. She laughed and said that's what she charged
for multimedia development, "If it wiggles, it's a $120/hour."
4/30 [Festival
of Beltane]
Monday morning. Loads of mail from the monthly news. Yesterday was supposed
to be a Capricorn kind of a day as one fetched me up from the trailer for a
hike (west loop) and some food (Hula Hut). I was supposed to buy dinner for
another Capricorn girl at Magnolia. Wound up being a Capricorn and Taurus (earth
signs) and a Pisces waitress. Broke up that Capricorn strangle
hold on the day. [Actually, I just get stupid around Capricorn females —
go figure.] Unrelated surfing tidbit (Sunday night seems good for this): the
dot bomb fallout and growth.
I make 90% or more of my travel arrangements on the web, usually at weird hours
of the night. Or at 10 in the morning, when I should be doing something more
productive, but the web makes it a lot easier for me to get my travel stuff
done. Takes a lot less time. I don't have to talk to anyone, and ask about the
flights and fares. Hotel reservations, too. It's been like this for several
years, ever since Southwest
had their "web extra" bonus thing going. As far as that commerce goes,
that's where I spend my money on the web. Now, this is mostly for regional travel,
by air, by rail, and business accommodations at the destination. Travel destinations,
though, were the furthest thing from my mind last night as I walked home from
Magnolia and that Capricorn (and Taurus and Pisces). The ambient temperature
was about perfect, the Leo Moon was about halfway there, it was that feeling
of all is right in the world. A lone kid on a skateboard rolled past me, and
in the street light, I could just make out a row of hair spiked up down the
middle of his head. A real mohawk, surfing the empty Sunday night streets.
4/29
Fishing. Got to love it. Catch and release: got to love that even more. Days
like yesterday don't get any more perfect for fishing. There was a cool, dawn
mist on the river. On the highway to lake, there was patches of low fog. "Look:
we're flying under the clouds." The motor barked to life, and we were up
on the plane, heading out at 60 knots an hour or more... then, silence. Trolled
over to the edge of the dam, and started fishing. My early luck was spotty,
at best. The Virgo had better luck. Well, except that his motor was seized up
or something. And instead of doing a typical guy thing, taking the motor apart
right there (my suggestion), we just fished our way back to the boat ramp. Excellent
fishing. Perfect weather. Almost cold in the morning, before the sun came up,
but I was able to shed my long pants by midmorning. And in that inlet where
the boat ramp was? I caught my last two fish right in there. My Virgo buddy
got tired of taking pictures, I caught so much. What could make this even better?
Some BBQ at Elgin's [home of the world famous Elgin Hotlink] Southside
Meat Market. "I always get a half pound of sausage and an orange soda."
Home before two in the afternoon, I snoozed for a bit, and then went for a late
trek around the lake. Just too nice of day not to be outside. I drifted off
to sleep, a little early while the sounds of conjunto music, played loud and
outside someplace, floated in over the water.
4/28
Off to the lake this morning. As I was leaving for dinner last night, I noticed
that a neighbor's friend (a rockstar) had done something to his hair, it was
a subtle shade of fuscia. "Nice hair color," I said. "What, this?
Happens every time I get abducted by aliens." Only in a trailer park. Former
Republican Governor Bush (affectionately referred to as "The Shrub")
was/is in town. This does not bode well with some of us. Increased security
means everything downtown is jammed up. It's not fun. It's not good. I thought
we got rid of him by shipping him out of state. I should've figure that with
the jet fighter flyby yesterday morning, rattled the trailer's windows — I
was not impressed. I did do a nice, long hike yesterday afternoon, the west
loop of the hike and bike trail. Typically, I like to walk on the little stone
walls that border portions of the trail, just to change my pitch up. I was hopping
up on one yesterday afternoon, talking on the phone at the same time, and I
misjudged my step. Skinned my knee. But what was the worst? Some folks saw it.
Nothing hurts as bad as a deep wound to the pride. Pride doesn't go before the
fall, it goes with the fall.
4/27
I pulled out of the trailer on foot yesterday, and I did something a little
unusual — I intentionally walked out without the beeper, the voice mail
and the cell phone. Just a handful of change and a shirt. I took one of those
meandering, "destination unknown" wanders. Spring weather, not too
hot, do some serious miles and not think about "it." I'm not even
sure what "it" is, but I sure wasn't thinking about it. Sure felt
nice to wander aimlessly for a few hours, the sun glaring down, around people
but gratefully, devoid of human contact. The biggest quandary in my life? Eyore's
Birthday or Lake Bastrop for fishing this coming Saturday? Tough call. Looks
like I'll go fishing, though. Virgo fishermen are not easily dissuaded.
4/26
"He told me, "Son, East Texas is where I come from...'" (as sung
by Lyle Lovett). That quick dash to the office wasn't working for me. It was
a sad day for High Tech Austin, too. There was a "Triple X" theater
for years, on South Congress, right across the street from a Junior High. Famous
pornography palace because it was battleground for freedom of speech versus
zoning versus common sense versus neighborhood watch groups and toss in some
religious folks, too, so you can pick your side. Personally, I thought it was
just in bad taste. Future Protocol took it over, finally, renovated it, and
turned the old theater into a nice "dot com" office. Beautiful renovation,
at least from the outside, preserving the old marquee. There was banner on it
yesterday morning, "This space for rent...." I never quite understood
what Future Protocol did,
either. What's sad is that someone was brave enough, daring enough, to use an
old building, preserve the neighborhood, and wrestle out a tenant who had been
problem, or eye sore, for some time. Maybe a profitable tenant will take it
over.
4/25
Quick dash to the office this morning. Amusing list
(from MacInTouch). No,
I haven't bought Macintosh OS X yet — I need my astrology software, and
it doesn't look like it works with the new stuff — yet. I was listening
to Die Valküre, and the leftover CD from Monday night cycled up
afterwards. "I was riding on a concrete slab, down the river of a useless
land, it was such a beautiful day, I heard a witch doctor say, 'I'll turn you
into a toadstool'...." [Iggy Pop's Repo Man theme song.] Gemini
(third from the left) for lunch: she took me to place on the east side of town,
called Azul. [I think.] Good food, good coffee, lame hours as far as I'm concerned
— 7 AM to 3 PM, more like a breakfast nook than a coffee stop for me. But
good food. [Pork tenderloin with goat cheese and apple.] My Pisces friend fetched
me up for dinner, at the Cherry Creek Catfish Parlor. Tuesday night special?
Pork ribs. This, along with fried green tomatoes, hush puppies, French fries.
Cole Slaw. Whew! I know there was a vegetable in there some place. I listened
while she laughed about dating experiences. For a girl from Connecticut, she
shore is turning into a damn fine Texas lass: "The cowboy stood me up because
some of his cattle got out of their pens, and he to round them up. Then, today,
the mail brought us this note, asking if I wanted to be on the 'Peoples' Court'
program." Stood up by cowboy so he can go round up cattle, and then a chance
to be on a day time TV program? Does it get any more Texas than this?
4/24
Yesterday's rain, thunder and lightening made for some weird stuff. I had the
trailer's patio door open, and the cat was complaining that I didn't turn the
sprinkler system off. I think the cat is a little misguided as to what power
I really do have. The mailman really delivered: I ordered a DVD version of Repo
Man so I just had to watch it yesterday afternoon and evening. I'd forgotten
what a seminal classic that film was. Is. Whatever. It most effectively catches
some of the so–called "punk movement," with its awesome, awe–inspiring
soundtrack. Witty writing, excellent dialogue. Bizarre plot. Over the top story
line. As a bonus, the version I got had the sound track on a separate CD. It
was a low budget, 1983-4 film that garnered a huge cult following. I remember
why, now. "But what if he's innocent?" "No one is innocent."
The original score was by Iggy Pop. I'd forgotten how good some it is. Or the
lyrics from the Circle Jerks, lounge punk, love to use this in a scope sometime,
"We just get by, however we can. We all have to duck, when the shit
hits the fan...."
4/23
The cat was making more than her usual noise this morning, urging my tired self
out of bed. Her food dish was empty, again. Flashes of lightening broke through
the open window, briefly giving a dance floor look to the trailer, and my head
was pounding. Another peal of thunder, another flash. When the weather changes
drastically, I usually feel it my knees — this morning, I had a pounding
headache. Unplug the computer from the phone line and the wall outlet. Got some
great pictures
yesterday morning. Hung around Cancer people all day long — or so it seemed.
Cancer photography person. Cancer Neighbor who lost his phone Saturday night.
Cancer security guy at the festival, sitting in the booth with me. The funny
thing about that was, the moon was in Aries. Those Cancer folks were supposed
to be irritable — but they weren't. Part of being at the Bob Marley Festival,
though, has a lot to do with with that "everything's going to be all right"
sense.
4/22
The morning seemed cloudy, but by the afternoon, I was sitting in the dappled
sunlight at Jo's, had not one but two double Cappuccinos, then after several
hours, wandered down to see my friends working at the Bob Marley Festival, on
the river front. Miss "Right of First Refusal" (Aquarius) sure knows
how to throw a party. It's been a long time since I've been in the midst of
that much partially exposed "hippie" flesh. The aroma of sage, incense,
and other things filled the air. Soul food vegetarian BBQ tofu (when in Rome,
dine like they do), served up by a Pisces, then I did some serious hanging out
with the volunteer squad. While I was sitting by the exit gate, a guy with a
blue pug boxer looking dog came by, headed out. "How did you do that?"
asked one of the staff people. "Him? I bought him on the Internet someplace,
just like that." I walked back to Shady Acres, the breeze out of the east
blowing my hair around my face, and as I crossed on of the busy streets with
a crowd, I listened to a guy with a kid on his shoulders, eavesdropping on parts
of the conversation, "No, if I get hit [by a car], you're pretty much screwed,
too." He looked over at me, "Kids: got to tell them just like it is."
4/21
Funny thing, I don't mind going to the airport at 5 AM when I'm going some place,
but when I've got to take somebody else, my alarm clock mysteriously didn't
go off in time. Made it anyway, in the pre–dawn dark. New York should look
out for red–headed Capricorns. Then I got home, and the Neighbor, because
his normal work schedule puts him in the store at 5:45 AM, he was up. "8:30
AM, that's like, really sleeping in," he said, pulling on his first beer
of the day, "so what's for breakfast?" I don't think I've had a beer
for breakfast since I was in high school. The lottery question is a trick question.
"If I won the lottery, what would I do different?" The right answer,
for me, is nothing. There's always the thought that there wouldn't be those
pesky "late notices" arriving with their "urgent attention required,"
but other than that, I don't know that there is a lot that I'm not doing right
now. I won a little chump change, and I bought a nice dinner the other night,
but above and beyond that? Why do I have to win the lottery to do what I want
to do? The point of creation, the time when the magic works, every morning,
when I sit down with a cup of coffee, and the magic happens, I'd still do that.
I write to amuse myself. A perfect day? Sort of depends on where I'm at, but
a little writing, a little walk, some interesting foodstuffs, that's about all
that is required. Me and the cat, we had nice little nap on the couch yesterday
evening, the breeze ruffling the curtains, the cat purring, and me dog–tired
from running around all day — quiet contentment with where I'm at. Still
bought another lottery ticket, but that was out of habit. Never can tell when
the stars might make me lucky again. Sure would cure my IRS problem and the
late notices. I could also afford a new faucet for the kitchen sink. But in
the right perspective, mine, none of that is very important.
4/20
Feast Day of St. Peter Martyr — busted for entertaining women in his cell.
Why can't I be a monk like that? Better yet, he talked his way out of getting
in trouble. My life is never like that — I always get in trouble. Maybe
not always. Yesterday morning, while waiting to go to the office, I surfed over
to the Texas Lottery site to see if
I had any winning numbers. I gulped a little more coffee and started counting
how I was going to spend the millions. No, just thousands. Wait, no, just hundreds.
What would you do if you won the lottery? No, I didn't win a big
amount, and what I did was continue working on my e–mail in–box,
process an order, answer the question that went with it, and then I did walk
downtown (beats trying to find parking), stop off and have some lunch at a Vietnamese
noodle house ($5.41), then walk into the Texas Lottery Commission, hand the
Gemini behind the counter my driver's license, and collect the [not that big]
check. I did splurge. I got two sweetrolls at Jo's, and I had a double shot
of espresso in my coffee. Whee! Big spender. How am I going to spend that money?
I thought about while I was walking. Weekend in Vegas? No, I've got appointments
this weekend. I might send all that money to one credit card, though, that would
be nice. Sometime next year, someone is going to get a couple of horoscopes
that are frightfully joyous and happy, though, as I did write some before cashing
in my ticket. Yes, when I win big, I'll still do what I do. What
would you do?
