What’s in my purse?
The term I read was “murse,” not purse. For man-purse. Or, as I’ve heard it before, “man-bag.” I’d love to carry one. I think it would be great. The problem is, and I’ve got a number of bags that would work, the singular problem is, I can’t be bothered. Closest I’ve gotten to really carrying a purse is about once or twice a year, when I’m working, and I need something to carry a large tarot deck – a show deck. After much trial and error, I did finally settle on just one shoulder bag kind of a thing, and I had an aunt who used to carry an identical bag, but for her it really was a purse.
Made by Sun Dog, a company that used to specialize in outdoor gear for the photographer set, they seemed to have branched out some. But I’ve gotten to the point that I either clip it to my belt, the stuff, or I toss the stuff into a pocket of cargo shorts I’m wearing. Or sports coat, for those rare days when it’s cool outside. About the only time I carry purse is for work, like this coming weekend.
I suppose, that a laptop carry bag, might, to some, appear purse-like, but that’s a different issue.
Worrisome:
I was writing about culinary matters, working on a scope, and I only covered three food groups: fried, BBQ, and Tex-Mex. The only problem is I’m beginning to feel that I’ve become too Texican. As if there was no other kind of cuisine that mattered. Come to think of it, there really isn’t. I’m turning into a narrow-minded person. I understand that there are other types of food, but do they really matter? Hey, don’t like it? Don’t read about it.
Not worrisome:
I was idly listening to my neighbors. One was going on and on about a perceived problem with management at the ole trailer park. The maintenance guy was doing this, or wasn’t doing that, or whatever. After listening for a while, another neighbor chimed in, “Someone ought to write about this place, it would be a good series or something.”
“Yeah, someone who writes a lot ought to do just do that,” I chimed in.
Unrelated:
This one was funny.
Cussing notes:
Missed it the first time due to work, looks like there’s a second swing through Texas for the Hank III tour. From Cain’s in Tulsa to the Ridgelea in Ft. Worth, I think I’ve been most of those places. Including Dos Amigos in Odessa. Too bad it’s still a work weekend for me, or I’d be on the road someplace to see a show.
Everyone of those rooms are perfect for that show – assuming it’s the two-show set-up as in the past.
Unrelated: toolbox.
Tools used in the production end of things:
1. Apple Safari web browser.
2. Apple iWork word processor.
3. pMachine’s Expression Engine.
4. Fatcow (dot com) web-site hosting.
Hot Day-hum.
Found it again.
Cherechez le poisson:
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A neighbor (Aries) was rowing his kayak. Canoe. Whatever. As he got closer to the dock, I reeled in my line a little and pulled this guy up from around the pilings. I mean, I knew he was there, the fish, but I was hoping for something a little more interesting. However, fish is fish. new neighbor. He claimed he was imnpressed but demurred on fresh sushi for dinner.
Swing Time:
Finally found a notation from Wayne Hancock’s mouth to the reporter’s story about Flatland Boogie, which, in context, makes it even better. Some times, the back story can improve a song, “Written on 87 north-bound.”
What was weird? As I passed one place downtown? The song “Hoy-hoy-hoy” was on the outdoor speaker.
Coincidence? I think so.
