After driving boat all over the lake on Sunday morning, that’s two [2> mornings in a row I’ve been up at 5 to go fish, I wandered up to Quero’s to meet the Austin Journal Writing folks. Out of five present, one of them had a regular job. The rest of us, 80%, are odd jobbing, doing a little of this and a little of that. Or like me: fishing and doing astrology.
That’s a lot of us without a regular paying job.
One of the funnier moments resulted from an encounter in a McDonald’s before we ever got fishing. A couple of guys towing another bass boat, took one look at me and my buddy, and then asked me, “There was tournament at the lake yesterday? Just one day, right?”
Fishing buddy Bubba grumbled about this as we climbed back into the truck, “Next thing you know, they’ll be asking me if I’m the guitar player.”
I had just the best time fishing on Sunday, that’s two days in a row, two different lakes, and Sunday’s catch?
At one point, I was laughing so hard from almost falling in that I almost fell in a second time.
As far as the fishing itself, what with me being the “Fishing Guide to the Stars,” Sagittarius and all, despite my modesty, the fact suggests that I did, indeed, get skunked on Sunday, \\i.e.\\, no fish for me. Bubba got two small ones, pictures to follow. But the humor was back, the attitude was good, and life was grand. It was cloudy with warm, wet tuffs of moisture scudding up from the coast, making for an enjoyable, pleasantly overcast morning.
Best thing I caught was some good BBQ in place I wouldn’t have stopped at if it hadn’t been Sunday, and if we hadn’t been in a hurry – Billy’s Bar B-Q in Bastrop. There were 11 bucks on the wall – that’s almost all of Santa’s crew – excellent ambiance.
I was hustling to get back to that gathering of the local journal writers. Been on the books for a while, just seemed like the thing to do. As I alluded to before, they’re interesting, qualified people mostly without \\real\\ jobs.
After the writers left, I was joined by a few more friends. Something about those Margaritas on a Sunday afternoon. A little bubbling “queso flameado,” or, as the one sweet Pisces explained, “It’s Texas Fondue.” I was sucking on a tall latte from Jo’s, just down the street, and we got to talking about a business deal.
It’s just a talking phase, nothing concrete, too many variables, too much to consider in one time, but I got hint about a possible meeting for a maybe job offer. I’d have to relocate to another town. I’d have to work at a desk some of the time. I’d have to answer the phone, manage a budget, and work for someone else. Wouldn’t all be inside, though, and that’s a plus. Better still, this unnamed town? It’s a location that I dearly love.
Two things to consider: I wouldn’t have to give up my writing, and it would mean a regular paycheck.
It’s all a long, long way off. But it would be nice to consider not worrying about little things that crop up, like the server’s bill, or cat food. Might never happen. Might be a long shot, or a pipe dream, and tomorrow morning, I still have to worry about paying for the credit card that has the server’s recurring monthly fee on it. Plus, the city, county, state and especially federal income taxes – all that, as well.
I’m not into visual portents too much. Saw an Osprey with a fish in its talons, caught a big fish. I did see a Horny Toad on the way home. In the wan light of the dusk, heading into the sunset, there was a reptile I’ve never seen before, not in this part of Texas. I wander what **that** animal totem is?
Of course, it could be another guy, just looking for his dinner. Impressive looking fellow, too, almost didn’t see him, due to his natural coloring against the limestone and brown grass.
