Wherein the idea might be something along the lines of wrestling, but what prompted me was the concept lifted from another East Texas writer, about “wrestling the words to the page.”
Horoscopes and artificial goals:
I was bouncing between two tasks, one was actually writing upcoming scopes, trying to keep the material as fresh as I can keep it, and the second was proofing and prepping a column. Plus doing an audio background for the weekly update. So that’s three tasks, and the way I see it, they all run together. The artificial goal was the get everything wrapped before I ever left. I had a dismal day, on Wednesday, because the weather really sucked – way too cold, rainy and gray – and because I never did hit the arbitrary goal. I never quite finished the scope, never got all the disparate bits of audio to work correctly, and I didn’t finish proofing an upcoming column.
The best I could come up with was the ad, stuck in the middle of last week’s scopes. I also realized that it didn’t quite convey what I wanted, not enough of the right words. Yes, I’m working on it. There’s a Mercury Retrograde time approaching, and I expect to twiddle with web layout and work on advertising images. And write a lot more in the journal. And catch hell for uncorrected grammatical errors and typical typographic mistakes even though I’ll be extra vigilant.
What I didn’t do on Wednesday, though, got made up for on Thursday. Up early, words bumping into each other, nouns conjugating verbs, and when I reached the stopping point, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to keep going. But I’ve got to put everything on hold – Friday afternoon? Airport then MAF (designation for Midland-Odessa Airport).
File this under the Leave Us Alone category:
Being as removed as possible from mainstream anything, unless it involves real astrology or fishing, I missed this. However, I know from first-hand experience, that the town mentioned is not really normal. The waffles at the cafe downtown? State of Texas emblem in the middle. South Side Meat Market? Home to “world famous” – justifiably so – Elgin Hotlinks. Good, good sausage, especially on the grill.
Freebird!
I was really working on something, and I clicked on the web for a second opnion, and that one entry just made me laugh. After reading the backing story in the paper (online), though, I’m trying to recall, but I think some of the facts are wrong. Not that it matters, either, because I certainly can’t come up with verifiable proof. Not that it matters, either. I wonder though, what did we call “alt-indie” music 20 years ago? Wasn’t called “alt-indie” at the time, of that, I am sure. What I do recall, maybe a punk show (the old Hot Club anyone?), at the end of one two-minute song, there it was, “Freebird!”
Some of my memories, dreams and reflections may be tainted, faded with time, with pigment then added to help fill in the black and white areas.
I had to venture downtown – okay, I wanted to venture downtown – and upon arriving, wondered why I bothered. Mid-day. Suits mixed with musicians mixed with emo-looking (alt-indie) types. Just a hint, and it’s not like I’m any kind of a fashion critic myself, as I tend towards comfort over style, but when groups of three are dressed exactly alike, it really doesn’t speak of independence – it looks like a club.
Two more items caught my attention. Language. I don’t exactly have an “ear” for harmony, or any other type of music, but I’m fair with some accents. I was listening to France French (not from Canada, excusez moi, Quebec), then something that was either German or Dutch, as I was pacing a couple of folks who were nattering along in one of those languages. At first I was sure it was German, but the lack of hard sounds made me wonder if it wasn’t Dutch instead.
Another item was a (looked like a fresh print to me) Adam and the Ants white T-shirt. Which only makes me wish I signed up to as an iTunes Associate and I could link to the songs, and make three cents for every purchase. Which might offset the cost of a new fishing rod and reel.
Another item I overheard, while I was walking home to Shady Acres?
“Dude. Dude, we like them even if we don’t like them, got that?”
(Some dude I passed on the sidewalk, while he was talking into his palm, which was cupped over his ear. Might’ve been a phone there. Might not.)
I missed one show due to work, I had arranged for a client call, and later in the morning, I had an offer for backstage pass to see the Gourds – about the same time. Now that would’ve been worth the hoopla. But fun or money, which is more important?
Party on. Dude.
Fish de jour:
I’m estimating that this feller is over a foot long. Light bite, nice fight. Almost had to tickle him to get him to take the hook. We played “tease the fisher person” for a few minutes. Now, the way the wheels in the cosmos turn, when I went down to the lake’s edge to fish, I had an audience, as several neighbors were down, watching the water flow by. A couple was drinking wine, and I’m guessing, it wasn’t wine from a box. Another guy was sipping on a tall Bucky cup. Sinced I just dug the earpiece – like a ball of bad ear wax – out of my ear, I didn’t hear much of the chatter. The fish only started hitting after everyone left.
“There’s that weird neighbor, always down there fishing….
