Mothers Day, with me and my womens.

OK, so the original plan was to head to Austin and eat a fat meal at Pappasito's. Then Mom told us last week that maybe we'd just stay home and she'd cook Chicken Enchiladas. I was like, "Well, whatever you wanna do mom. It's your day"... Meanwhile I'm thinkin' "Damn! Friggin' women, changin' their minds every five minutes! Shit!"

Then Sis calls me Saturday morning to tell me that Pappasito's is back on. Denise and I are to meet Mom and our cousin Trish at her place in Belton at 3PM. I'm like, "Cool, those Brochette Shrimp are gonna be gooooood!" Then, Sunday morning, Mom calls. You guessed it. Pappasito's is off again, and so are the Chicken Enchiladas.

Now the plan is for Denise and I to head over at about 5PM and pick up burgers and fries on the way. I'm thinkin' "How the hell did we get here from there?", but I tell her "No problem Mom. It's your day. We'll do whatever you want." It sure was easier makin' plans with Dad. Same place, same food, every Friday. These womens are just too damn fickle.



So. we got the burgers and onion rings from DQ and the fries and malts at Micky "D"s. I brought a card and flowers over, and the camera, and we had a great time. You can see the yellow and red roses on the table in the background.

I was gonna get the burgers from Jack-in-the-crack, but there wasn't one around. LOVE their Sourdough Jack. Coulda gone to Burger king. I LOVE their Angus with all the fixens. But we were thinkin' about gettin' somethin' good and convenient, so DQ did the job.



After that we went outside and did a little pruning. The neighbors vines cross over the fence and entangle themselves in Mom's bushes. So I got back there with clippers and cut them back. Havin' about a six and a half foot wing span comes in handy in situations like this. I was born to reach tall shit. Destiny.

Then it was time to have some fun at someone else's expense. Turns out all of my womens are camera shy. Silly girls. Don't they know that's half the fun?



This it what the camera is for. It's like a more expensive version of the rubber snake I used to chase Mom and sis around the house with decades ago. And that shit still works, by the way.



The first few shots... Girlfriend in headlock and camera in other hand... went off as expected. She's cool about the first few shots. Then the smile starts to go away.












By about the fifth or sixth shot she's sayin' stuff like "Get that BLOOODY thing away from me!", in that hilarious British accent of hers. My nipples get hard just thinkin' about it.



Then you lull them into a false sense of safety by takin' a few flower shots.



But then you switch hands and start all over again'. Next thing you know Denise is assuming the Witness Protection Program pose we're all familiar with and my cousin Trish is comin' to Denise's rescue. Silly thing. Doesn't she remember the six and a half foot wingspan?


Six feet and about 9 or 10 inches. Ya just reach out, way beyond the capacity of mortal man, or woman, and keep takin' shots.


Next thing you know she's reachin' and reachin', tryin' to get the camera out of my hand...
















And ends up hoisted up over my shoulder. I just kept snappin' away. She's light as a feather.

Great fun was had by all, and the Brochette Shrimp were saved for another day. I hope your Mothers Day was as fun as ours. Cheers.

Friday night with my womens.

Took Mom, Denise and my cousin Trish to Dynasty Friday night, as a huge thunderstorm bore down on the area. Tornadoes and hail and everything, but we were not to be deterred.



The food was great and the company was even better.



After eating we all went back to Mom's place for an after dinner tipple, and then Denise and I went to the mall to see Iron Man. What a hoot that flick was. Excellent!

Sunday is Mothers Day, so I'm gonna take mom, sis, Trish and Denise all down to Austin to eat at Pappasito's. If I survive it I'll post about it some time. Y'all have a great Mothers day and we'll talk later. Cheers.

Update: Mom called me at about 10 this morning to say she'd changed her mind. Now she says it's such a nice day, all they want to do is work in the garden all day and then Denise and I will bring them burgers, fries and chocolate malts at about 5PM. Truth is, I think my sis called her this morning and told her she wasn't coming, so Mom just wants to stay home and take it easy. It bums me out (I had my pallet set for those brochette shrimp), but it's her day, so whatever she wants is what's goin' down.

And here's a special message to all you hotties out there pushin' rug rats around. Huge hugs all around. Happy Mothers Day.

Big Fun in The Woodlands.

As you know, Denise and I drove down to The Woodlands, a nice suburb north of Houston, to see Roger Waters in Concert last Sunday. Ol' Myron had clued us in to a great little Mexican food place there called Los Cucos, and we were determined to try it out.



Also, another blogger buddy or ours, Jerry Wiley, had emailed me last week that he was in Houston briefly and wanted to hook up. So I emailed him back and we made plans to meet at the restaurant before the concert and check it out. It turned out to be wonderful. Kudos to Myron for hookin' us up. Good work my buddy.



After the feed we took a picture ('cause ya gotta) and then Denise and I headed out for the concert. We found a great parking place in a garage about a block or so away and walked with the other teaming throngs of concert goers to the pavilion.

Cameras being forbidden in the venue, I was worried that the pavilion folks would grab mine as I went through security. It's not quite as small and hideable as I'd like it to be. It turned out though they were really more worried about guns. They checked all the ladies purses and had everyone lift their pant legs and do a spin around to see if they had anything tucked in their belt. We both walked right in without any problems and went directly for our seats, forgoing drinks, having just stuffed our guts with Mexican food, a few beers and a few Strawberry Margaritas. I didn't get up and get drinks till the mid-concert break before they performed "Dark Side".

Our seats were wonderful, easily some of the best seats I've ever had at a concert. As I said in a previous post, I'd sat here and watched a year ago as Mushy and his Buds attended this same concert in Atlanta on an earlier leg of this tour. I'd been really tempted to drive over there and see it, knowing that Waters wasn't coming to Texas in 2007. So when I heard he was coming and the chance came to see the show I was determined to be right up close. Money was an object, but not much of one. You only live once. I paid $558 for two seats on the 16th row center, under the cover of the pavilion. Denise flipped her lid when I told her how much I'd payed for the tickets, knowing as she does how deep in debt I am, but after the show, as we walked in the afterglow of the spectacle, I asked her if the price was worth it. She smiled up at me and said it was. There was no question in my mind. It was worth every penny.

When we got to our seats I recognized the picture that was being shown on the screen behind the stage. I'd spent a good while a year earlier looking at the pictures Mushy'd taken in Atlanta and posted on FlickR, and I'd read his review of the concert at his blog and at the fan site that posted his shots and review. I knew that the concert would begin when a hand came into the picture to turn the radio dial.



Sure enough, we all noticed when the fog machines began to bellow and cigarette smoke began wafting up in front of the radio. Then the hand reached up, turned the dial and grabbed the glass of booze that sat in front of the radio. Denise began to tear up as the radio played an old song from WW2, We'll Meet Again, by Vera Lynn. Then the hand moved in again and we rocked to Elvis singing Hound Dog. When that ended an old ABBA tune began and people in the audience around me started yelling "Oh God, change the fucking channel", and sure enough, the hand came up and changed the channel to another station. I recognised the tune, another war time ballad, but can't remember the name of the guy who sang it.



Then, as the lights dimmed, Waters and his band walked out from behind the stage and the crowd erupted in cheers. The show began, and it would be at least an hour and a half before they took a break and Waters talked to the audience. They played lots of old Pink Floyd hits, mixing in tunes from albums like Ummagumma, Animals, Wish You Were Here, The Wall, and The Final Cut.



The visual effects were astounding, including this effect, which appeared at the climax of "Set The Controls For The Heart of the Sun". The screen behind the band burned horizontally like a fuse down to the floor. I think it was the most astounding thing I've ever seen in a concert.



The screen behind the band played a constant mix of images, like the clocks ticking as Waters played that sound on his bass guitar during the performance of "Time".

The concert was visually stunning. A feast for the eyes as well as the ears. The band Waters put together played the old Floyd tunes expertly and left me exhausted and overjoyed. Like so many joyful experiences, this concert seemed to go bay way too fast. Dark Side of the Moon went by particularly fast, as we all sang the lyrics along with the performers and stood in wonder at the visual stimulation zooming past our eyes. When this satellite gizmo dropped down and began to beam laser light into the crowd, eventually taking the shape of the prism from the old album cover, the crowd went nuts.

Waters and his band definitely put on a wonderful show. There's no question about it. It was one of the best concert experiences I've ever had, hands down. Thing is, if you'd told me back in the mid '80s, when Pink Floyd split up, that I'd be payin' this much to see Roger Waters and enjoyin' it all so much I would have laughed at ya.

When he decided to quit the band after about 20 years and that the other guys couldn't use the name since he was no longer gonna be in the band, I lost a lot of respect for him. It was as if one kid decided the other kids couldn't play ball any more because he felt he owned the ball. Of course, I didn't want the band to split, loving the music, so I naturally supported the other guys in the feud. I'll never forget, standin' in line at the mall to get Pink Floyd tickets, talkin' to some other guy about how Waters new music sucked and Gilmore was our man. It seemed clear then who the real key figures in Pink Floyd were.

The notion Waters put out at the time, that his exit from the band was like John Lennon and Paul McCartney leaving the Beatles, sounded like extreme arrogance on his part. Of course, in retrospect, I can see his point. He was definitely the boy genius behind this great music, particularly after Syd Barrett went nuts and was shunted aside, replaced by David Gilmore. But it occurs to me now that nether Lennon or McCartney ever produced music on their own on a par with the stuff they collaborated on with the Beatles. It's as if the parts were not equal to their sum. Maybe Pink Floyd is the same. Only my opinion. Remember, their like assholes. You know.

When he and the Gilmore led version of Floyd both came out with their own albums at about the same time, right after the break-up, it seemed the new Floyd music was light years better than the stuff Waters produced. This concert kinda confirms that fact, with only about two non Floyd tunes in the set list. I still love Gilmore's work, and respect his talent. I love the idea of the old guys are still makin' the music mostly by themselves, without a lot of extra accompaniment. But seeing clips of the DVD of Waters' 2000 concert tour, In The Flesh, convinced me that I had to see his version of the music for myself. My buddy Mushy's report of seeing the concert in Atlanta in 2007 cinched it. I had to see it, no matter what.

In the end, I'm totally happy with what I experienced. It's obvious that Waters is a genius. Perhaps one of the best musicians, lyricists and composers of our time. His politics, evident from the music and the graffiti emblazoned pink porcine spectacle that was towed around the arena, are predictable and forgettable. Growing up the way I did, loving the music, one learns to separate the artists work from their adolescent liberal ramblings. It's like suspending disbelief when yer watching a great movie. It goes with the territory that folks like this, living as they inevitable do, in a privileged cocoon, will have certain predictable feelings, and you can't let them get in the way of enjoying a great guitar solo. It's just stupid to do that. Who cares what he thinks about Iraq? He's just a friggin' musician!

Anyway, it was a wonderful time. I hope he stays healthy and comes around again in a few years because I'd love to see him again. I'd even pay the big price again. It was well worth it. You get what you pay for, don't ya?

Ok, I don't have much time (school is kickin' my ass) but I've got stuff to post.

First off, last Fridays dinner was great. Mom was feeling puny and didn't feel like it so I called one of dad’s old cousins, Wilson Moon and his wife, and Denise and I met them at BJs.



The dinner was great, again, and the company was even better. I'm steadily workin' my way through their menu, but there's so much good stuff on there I think I can continue to go for a long time before it gets boring. The Moons felt the same way. They'd never been there before and loved it. We'll meet them there again soon.



Both of these folks are in their 90s but they’re both still bright and alert and old Wilson’s got great stories to tell. He was about a decade older than my dad, so they didn’t hang out much as they grew up. Dad was more friends with Wilson’s brother. But when they got older they hit it off and became fast friends. That big ring on his finger is from Texas A&M, where he graduated in the early 1940s, back when you HAD to serve in the cadet corpse and go into the army if you went to A&M. I told ya, he's got interesting stories to tell

We used to go over and visit the Moons some nights after going to dinner at the Chinese place. You may recall, it was Wilson who got me goin’ at dad’s funeral when he hobbled up to me on that cane and said “Well, we lost out buddy didn’t we?” I was holding it together till then. It’s always great to see them and hear about their latest cruise, or their grand kids.

After dinner Denise and I went to see “88 Minutes” at the Temple mall. She liked it more than I did. Something about all those hot women chasin’ after Al Pacino. What is he, friggin’ 80 now? That’s WAY too much disbelief to have to suspend. It was pretty cool, even if the plot seemed a bit too convoluted to believe. This Friday we’re gonna go see “Rocket Man”. I can’t friggin’ wait! I hear they’re already workin’ on the sequel.

Anyway, Saturday afternoon my buddy Jim from Ft. Worth drove down and we headed down to Bastrop, East of Austin, to see Eric Johnson in a little live show. A local developer down there who is a huge Jazz fan has been having a Jazz Jam in his house every year for the last 6 or 7 years. Lots of local talent, including Johnson (who lives in Bastrop), show up every year.



This year they held the jam on the patio of a new medical plaza that this developer just put up east of town. Twice as many people showed up this year, donating a minimum of $50 to attend the concert. The money goes to the local Boys & Girls club in Bastrop. We hear the number 400 bandied about, but the crowd seemed smaller than that. It was very cozy.

They played a free form jam for about an hour, with EJ sitting in about half way through it. The main guy there was this local jazz guy named Hannibal Locumbe. he was amazing, and the other musicians accompanied him really well. It was a wonderful time, and both Jim and I decided we'd definitely come back again next year.



After that they served dinner to everyone in the crowd. We lined up and went through the line and got a nice plate of food. After that, as the sun went down and the temps got as bit chilly, EJ and his band took the stage.


They played all the familiar tunes we associate Johnson with, like "White Cliffs of Dover", and then they closed the show with wonderful renditions of “Crossroads” and “Red House”. I was blown away.

After the show ended an beautiful young singer and her boyfriend/guitar player took the stage to play and we were impressed with her style. She sang some old standards and some great old Sergio Mendes stuff and did a wonderful job. Meanwhile I got in line to get a CD signed and have my picture taken with the dude.

The CD was for Jim. The picture was cool enough for me. Anyway, I figured I’d rip the CD to my hard drive when I got home and have it anyway. We got back to my place and Jim sacked out in the guest room. Denise and I slept in till about 10AM, by which time Jim had long since hit the road. He’s an early riser. He said when he got up I was snorin’, and when he got out of the shower I was still snorin’, so he just hit the road.

Denise and I slept in till... Well, lets say we finally rolled out of the sack by about 2PM and then showered and headed for Houston. The Roger waters concert was set for 8PM at the Woodlands Pavilion, north of Houston. It was great! We ended up meeting a good friend there and eating great Mexican food and then took in the concert. I took 418 pictures during the concert and it's taken me till now to get the best shots processed and on FlickR. I'll post some of those shots and a review of the concert tomorrow. Click over to FlickR to get a look at some of the shots. They're set up in that set in the order they were taken.

Ok, That was long in comin', but I hope you enjoyed it. We'll chat again later. Cheers.

Another fun weekend's comin' up.

First off, my cool little bullet clip cigar lighter has gone tits up on me. It was gonna happen sooner or later. Nothings made to last now. Chinese crap. I took it apart and tried to tinker with it. I'll see if I can find a way to fix it. It's way too cool to toss away.



Sad little dude, ain't it? Maybe I can get some parts from another and cannibalize or somethin'. I LOVE this lighter and I'm a stubborn bastard, so there you go. We'll see how it goes.

On the other hand, I've got two great music events in front of me this weekend. The first one is gonna be a small benefit concert down in Bastrop, where Eric Johnson is gonna join a few other musicians to play a short jazz concert for the Boys and Girls Clubs there. My buddy Jim from Ft. Worth and I are gonna head down Saturday. We donated $50 each for the tickets. It's supposed to be played on the patio of some local bank building, so it should be cool.

It'll end at 10PM and then we'll drive back home and Jim will spend the night at the house. We'd thought about pitchin' tents in some local park but they were full. I also decided that it would be better for me if I came home and slept here Saturday night in stead of having to get up, drive up here and get Denise and then drive down to Houston to see the other concert Sunday night. That's too much damn runnin' around.

Sunday afternoon, while Jim drives back up to Ft. Worth, Denise and I will head down to Houston to see Roger Waters do his Dark Side of the Moon show. I can't wait!



I plunked down a ridiculous amount of money for these seats ($558) so we could sit up front and jam. I plan to take good pictures and leave with my ear drums humming. As I told you in a previous post, I sat here about a year ago and watched Mushy and his buds take in this event in Atlanta and was sick about the idea that Waters wasn't comin' to Texas. It was worse after I saw the great pictures Mushy posted too FlickR.

It turns out he was comin' to Texas, it just took him a while. He had to drag his show all the way through South America and Europe before gettin' here. I'm psyched as hell to go. it should be great. Wish us luck.

Aside from that, my mom's got a visitor this weekend. My cousins Trish and Sue were supposed to both converge on Temple to spend time with her but Sue isn't coming just yet. She decided to wait and come next weekend. Trish flew in to Killeen yesterday from Michigan for a two week stay. Denise and I picked her up and then I went to work while Denise took her over to Temple. Sue, when she comes, will drive up from Houston. When she comes up the girls will all have a huge time. The one missing link in all of this giggly, girly, family stuff is my sister.

Mom and sis have seen their relationship disintegrate since Dad died. My sister has emotional problems, but mostly she's just a selfish, spoiled brat. She fell apart right after he passed (Daddy's little girl) and said some nasty things to mom that nobody could believe. If she'd had as big a set of balls as she sometimes thinks she has I would have beat the living shit out of her at the time, but that's water under the bridge. Enough said.

Mom and Dad have been paying her way, keeping her in an apartment in Belton and letting her take her time to "find herself", see a shrink and get over some pretty nasty stuff that happened in her earlier life. They've been paying her way and making excuses for the past five years but now that Dad has passed, the money train has hit a big bump.

Mom's not only worried about her own financial position (still up in the air, how much she's gonna get each month) but she's also sick to death of hearing about all of sis' childhood issues. She's convinced that sis really hates her (she's told her so many times) and only has anything to do with her for the money. It's sad as hell, but I can't do anything about it. It's like standing on the side of the tracks and watching a train wreck. Of course I find myself in the middle, with both of them venting to me and telling me their side. Of course, my sympathies mostly lie with mom.

I understand my sisters issues but I also know it's long since time for her the get over that shit and make a life for herself. I know I can't support her. That's a fact. The more she alienates herself from mom the worse her situation will be. She's even pissed at Denise for "taking her place in the family". Hilarious, considering the fact that sis has failed to take the position she should have taken, at my mom's side. Denise has just taken up the slack, out of love for me and affection for Mom.

Anyway, it's a huge pile of steaming, smelly drama, but it's my life these days. So it'll be nice to get away again and jam with some great music this weekend. Denise and Jim and I will have a huge time.

The plan is to head over there tonight and take all of them out to eat, somewhere (of course, without sis). I think it's my turn to pick a place, but I'm flexible. Denise told me last night that Mom voiced doubt over whether or not she'd want to go out. Trish may not want to ether, so Denise and I may be on our own. We may call old Wilson Moon and his wife and see if they want to join us. After that Denise wants to go see 88 Minutes, so we'll probably catch the late show.

Anyway, it looks like it's gonna be another fun, tiring weekend. Well talk on the other end. I'll have killer shots to post, fer sure. You try to have fun too and I'll see you later. Cheers.

Last Friday we took mom out to eat and then headed for "Big 'D'".

It was overcast and threatening rain when Denise and I headed over to Temple. By the time we got there it had rained a little and Mom's garden was lookin' great. Here are a few shots of the back yard so you can appreciate it.

We've come up with a scenario now where each week one of us gets to pick the place we go to eat. The one who picks has to pay. It took some doin' to get mom to go along with that last bit (She always feels like she should pay), but both Denise and I insisted. This was Denise's turn to pick, so we went to BJs, just off I-35.



As usual we started out with drinks and appetizers. Mom always gets a top shelf margarita, Denise had a Shandy (Beer and soda mixed), while I tried one of the many beers they brew specially here at BJs. I think this one was an Irish Red Ale. The appetizers were Crisp Tater Skins and Santa Fe Spring Rolls. Those spring rolls (front) have become my favorite thing out there. They're even better if you ask for honey mustard to dip them in. Enjoy.



The menu there is large and so far, nothing we've tried has been too disappointing. The last time we went I had the shrimp and pasta, so this time I was gonna go for another burger. That ended up sounding good to all of us so we all ended up goin' there.



Mom and Denise both ordered a Cuban Burger, which is a slab of beef and ham with mayo and mustard on a bun.



I ordered an Open Faced Chili Cheeseburger. As you see, it was a bit of a mess, with the Angus burger opened flat on the plate, covered in good chili made with their own Piranha Pale Ale and then fried onion strips sprinkled on it all. It was impossible to eat it as a burger. I just used my knife and fork to kill it off, very slowly. It was good, but I don't know if I'd order it again any time soon.



It turned out their Cubans looked a little better than my chili mess. I was wishin' I'd made it a threesome. I ended up helping Denise finish about half of hers Saturday morning for breakfast, so I got the best of both worlds.

By the time we finished eating the sky had opened up and a storm had rolled in and it was pouring down rain and small hail. We stood around a bit and then, not wanting to spend the rest of the night in the restaurant, I cowboyed up and went out into the shit to get the car. I grabbed one of my rain hats from the back seat and got Dad's old golf umbrella from the trunk and used it to get Mom and Denise to the car one by one. By the time we got back to mom's we were drenched.



Denise and I took off our clothes and put them in the dryer for a tumble. Mom got me her robe to put on, and Denise had to have a picture. The good camera was in the car so all you get this time is the phone camera shot. Ain't I purdy?



Once we dried off we headed to Dallas, getting there at about 11:30 PM. We checked in to our room, over in the quieter wing of the hotel, and found the next morning that we had sliding door that led out onto a cool terrace. The terrace turned out to be the roof of the parking garage. No matter, it was neat to wander around up there and take pictures.

Early Saturday afternoon we drug ourselves out of bed and headed up to D/FW airport to pick up my old college buddy Russell. He and I met in Grad school at UTA back in the mid-to-late 1980s. We come from very different backgrounds and have many different attitudes about politics and stuff but we also share many ideas and feelings about many more things, so we get along famously. He moved to England from Dallas back about 8 years ago and now lives in Wales.

He'd flown home to Tennessee to visit his folks and decided to make a short trip to Dallas to see friends before heading back to England. Denise and I picked him up at the airport and then we drove around Dallas, showing Denise around and letting her see some of the things she hadn't seen before. Russ still knows much more about the city than I do and was a great guide.

These longhorns are part of a set of sculptures laid out near the Dallas County Convention Center at a place called Pioneer Plaza, and it's cool as hell. The artsy fartsy types in Big "D" hate them and think they're crude, but the public loves 'em. They're very cool, and you can see more shots of them over at FlickR.

After walkin' around the cows we took Denise to see the wonderful art deco architecture over at Fair park. It's the site of the Texas State Fair each year and was built to commemorate the centennial of the Texas revolution in 1936. Built when it was it's a testament to the art deco styles of that time.

Here's a closeup of the archer from the portico of the Hall of State. This is where FDR stood (OK, leaned) when he opened the centennial in 1936. It's a beautiful place.

After walking around the park we went back to the hotel to freshen up. Then we went to meet up with another friend named Jim and eat Mexican food at a place called Ozona, on Greenville avenue. Russell can't get good Mexican food in England so he was ready to chow down. Denise and I both agreed when we got our enchiladas that maybe you can't get good Mexican food at Ozona ether. It was good but we're spoiled, used to goin' down to Pappasito's in Austin and doin' it up right. Everyone had a great time.

After that we all went over to the Hyatt and sat at the bar. We wanted to head out on the town, but Jim had his 12 or 13 year old daughter in tow, so there was a limit to where we could go. We drank some more and talked there at the hotel, and then they all drove down to Jim's place in Duncanville and Denise and I went to up to bed.

Sunday, we slept in again and then drove down to Jim's house and then went to eat MORE Mexican food for lunch. This time we went to Veracruz, in Duncanville. It was good. After that we decided to go up to the east side of town and walk through a gun show in Big Town mall. It was OK, but not worth goin' all that way to see again.

After that we parted the ways and headed to Ft. Worth to visit some other close friends. We didn't get home till 11:30 or Midnight. It was a long weekend, but a fun one.

We've got another fun one coming up, but I'll tell you about that tomorrow. Here's a hint... Lots of loud music, both Saturday and Sunday. It's gonna be fun. We'll talk. Cheers.

A friend sent this late last night. Thought I'd share.

These are actual analogies and metaphors found in the essays of high school students.

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

He spoke with wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

Her vocabulary was as bad, as, like, whatever.

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

The hailstones leaped up off the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star crossed lovers raced across a grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a landmine or something. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids with power tools.

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

She was as easy as the TV guide crossword.

She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.

It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.

I'm still workin' on last weekends shots. Maybe post something later today. Huge plans this weekend. It'll be another busy one. We'll talk. Goin' to class. later.

Ol' Dudley blew me away with this one.

Y'all need to head over and see this. Am I the only one that started humming the bass beat from "Jaws" when I saw that? Seriously, I' gotta get me a Gar. I'm both grossed out and fascinated. At least it wasn't a huge friggin' spider.

Reminds me, you hear about that dude that got eaten by a Great White the other day? Ok, that was just wrong, I apologise.

My grandaddy's shotgun.

When my father was growin' up his daddy had this 12 gage shotgun on hand at all times. It was used to put food on the table and to fend off critters that threatened the family livelihood. Dad used to tell me over and over about the time he found a snake in a corner of their barn and went to get this gun. He was maybe 6 or 7 then. He'd found the gun, took it out to the barn, took deadly aim and proceeded to blow out the whole corner of the barn, dispatching the snake in the process.



Dad was never into guns. The other story he tells concerning this weapon is about his mom forcing his older brother to take him on "hunting trips" in the woods with he and his friends. My uncle was a sure shot and had a pump action .22 that he could hit anything with. He and his friends would be arguing about which ear they were gonna hit on a squirrel sitting up on a tree limb when dad would cut loose with this shotgun and take out the squirrel, tree limb and all. He didn't get invited back after that.



It's a Stevens 12 gage, and it's about 70 years old. The gun had been in my uncle Mack's gun cabinet since before my grandfather died in the early '60s. My cousin John had grown up shooting it and enjoying the ties that the gun represented, connecting him to his own father and our paternal grandfather. He'd grown up here in Bell county and had known Granddad as a child, so the gun meant a lot to him.

When my uncle Mack died in about 1998 my Dad decided he wanted the gun. It was his fathers gun and he wanted me to have it. He told John about it and John handed it over to us without any hesitation. He hated to give it up but now says he gave it up because he wanted to keep peace in the family. His own son was even more upset. To him the gun was his only tie to his grandfather, my uncle Mack. I felt bad about the whole thing, but dad was in charge and doin' what he wanted, as usual. Everyone just put up with it.

When we got it I decided to take it somewhere and get it cleaned up. These pictures show the result. I've regretted doing that since then, ruining the original finish of the gun, but I was an idiot back then and didn't know anything about guns, other than that I wanted some. Since I got it back from the gunsmith it's been in my closet, leaning up against a wall. I never shot it, too worried about how old it was and whether it would stay in one piece.

When some bastards broke into my house and robbed me in '05, old guns like this one were completely ignored. They went for the cooler, more modern stuff, to my sorrow. When Peggy learned about that robbery she asked me if they'd taken the shotgun and I could see the relief in her face when I told her they hadn't.



Dad wanted me to have it because he knew I loved guns. He also knew that I'd always longed for some sort of closer connection to his side of the family, so having this gun might make accomplish that. But I knew that these other folks, who I love dearly, had been hurt by what my father had done all those years ago. By rights, it's really John's gun, to be handed down to his son, and then to his, and so on. I'll never have kids to hand it down to, and it doesn't mean as much to me. I never knew Granddad. The ties just aren't there.

I told Peggy a long time ago that as soon as Dad died I'd give it back. I didn't want to upset him by doing it while he was alive. I didn't want to have to lie to him if he asked me where it was. When he passed away a month or so ago I knew it was the time to make the gesture, but something in me resisted. It was as if I was going against Dad in some way. Hell, maybe I'd gotten used to having it.

I got a call from Peggy the other day. I was scheduled to go over to her salon in Salado last Friday and get my hair cut. I do this every six or eight weeks or so. It's a great time. She wanted to beg off because she was gonna go with John to see her kids and grand kids up near Ft. Worth and spend the weekend. I decided after thinking about it that this was as good a time as any.

I have several hours off between classes on Thursdays and knew I could make the trip and get back in time to teach. I took a few pictures of the gun for me to save and in the end I decided to wrap the gun in an old deer hide bag that I'd sown together and put a few beads on about 15 years ago to carry my hunting rifle. It seemed fitting somehow. I wanted them to see that I'd taken care of the gun and also give them something from me for the years I'd had it.



So, I wrapped up the gun in this case, tied off the end and took it to Peggy's salon and handed it over. I was surprised to find myself sniffling a bit and my chin crinkling when I handed it over, and then the tears came. It was like I was parting with Dad all over again. It hit me hard for a few minutes but then John walked in unexpectedly and I straightened up. You know, it's a guy thing.

Peggy looked at him, holding the case in front of her and asked "Do you know what this is?", and with joy in his eyes, looking at me from under the brim of his cowboy hat, John smiled and said "I think I do." We ended up laughing and talking about the gun and his experiences hunting with it. He talked about one time when he was kneeling on the ground by a tank (in Texas that's a small stock pond that attracts wildlife) waiting for doves to fly by when both barrels went off at the same time accidentally and the gun flew out of his hands.

I told him how sorry I was that Dad had done what he'd done and he was cool about it. In the end Peggy told me to go ahead and sit down and she gave me a great haircut and then didn't charge me. While I was getting sheared John picked up the case and left with it, going home. I watched him leave with it and got a bit emotional again, but then I put it behind me. After the haircut Peggy and I hugged and I drove home. I pulled out a fat cigar from the glove compartment and cranked up the jams about as loud as I could and tried not to think about Dad too much. That sort of thing seems to help these days.

You guys have a great Monday and we'll talk again in a few. I've got great shots from the weekend to share. Later.

I’m hemorrhaging money these days.

First off, I plunked down a little over $700 for a new set of tires yesterday. Nice Goodyears. It’s been a year since the last set, which seems too soon, but I have put about 30,000 miles on the car since then, so I guess it makes sense.

Also, I was driving up from Florence yesterday morning and listening to an Austin radio station, KLBJ, when they talked about Roger Waters appearing in concert in Dallas and Houston in about a week and a half. I couldn’t friggin’ believe my ears! A year ago this month, I sat here, green with envy, reading about Mushy and his buds going to Atlanta to see Waters and his band do all of the old Pink Floyd tunes, plus a full rendition of Dark Side of the Moon on it’s 30th anniversary.

I looked at the web sites back then and saw that Waters wasn’t coming anywhere near Texas and actually looked into driving to Georgia. Figured it’d be a cool way to get to meet Mushy and see a great show. I asked soldiers in my class “Who’s from Georgia?” and “How long of a drive is that?” I wanted to see it so badly but it looked like it wasn’t to be. I couldn’t afford it all and was tryin’ to be sensible.

When I later saw the pictures Mushy posted of the event and read his description of it I realized how much I’d screwed up, thinking about trying to be good and not spending too much money. I can’t tell you how much fun I’ve missed in my life, buyin’ into someone else’s idea of bein’ good. What a stupid fuckin’ waste of time! Anyway, a year went by and I’d basically forgotten about it. No, not really. Missing that concert was still eating at me. Then this Austin radio DJ dropped the bomb.

When I got to work I used the computer to look it up and check the details. I didn’t really believe it was real. I figured now that he’d finally come to Texas the concert would probably be on a Wednesday when I have class. Something would go wrong. Rush just played a gig in Austin on this last Wednesday and I couldn’t go. Pissed me off!

I figured SOMETHING would screw it all up. But no, the concert in Dallas is scheduled to be on a Friday night and the Houston show is on a Sunday night. I looked into tickets for both shows and it turned out the ticket site for the Houston show allowed for a better view of where your seat would actually be. I scrolled through the ticket prices and seat locations and, filled with excitement, I made the decision that I wouldn’t settle for the cheap lawn seats at the back of the venue. I’ve done that a few times and the view is not really worth the price of the ticket.

Before I knew what I was doing I was taking out my credit card and plunking down $558 for two tickets ($236 a piece, plus tax) in about the 16th row, center section, under the awning. I told a student who was sitting up front in class, what I’d just done and she was amazed. I told her this is why we grow up and get a good job… So we can blow ridiculous sums of money on rock concerts and guns and stuff. She agreed.

Denise, on the other hand, shit a brick when she took me to lunch and told her about it. Oh, she’s glad to be goin’, but she knows a little about how much money I owe to this card and that one, so she was looking at things a bit more sensibly. I need that in my life, but not right at this moment. This is a once in a lifetime thing. 30 years from now the cost won’t matter. Hell, I’ll just make more money. Teach another class. Everything will be cool.

After getting the tires and eatin’ lunch with Denise I went home briefly and then made a short trip to Salado. I knew my cousin Peggy, my barber, was gonna be heading up to see her son and grandkids today and I had something to give her. Something for her to hand over to her husband so he could hand it down to his son, and on and on. It was really something of theirs that dad had made them to give to me years ago. I felt bad about that back when it happened and wanted to make things right. I’ll tell you more about all that in my next post. Meanwhile, here’s a teaser shot, to peak your interest.

Denise and I are drivin’ up to Dallas again today. We're gonna take Mom out to eat at BJs in Temple and then we’ve got two nights reserved at the Hyatt. We'll be ccomin’ back Sunday afternoon. My buddy Russell from Grad school days, is flyin’ in to DFW airport from Tennessee Saturday afternoon and we’re gonna be there to pick him up. This is the guy that lives in Britain now, having moved to England in about 2000 with his wife Gay when she got a great job over there.

I went over there to visit them in about 2003 and had a wonderful time. Little did I know then that all wasn’t cool in the Walker household. They eventually split up and she came back to the States to go back to Grad School but he stayed over there and got a job as a Speech Pathologist for the NHS. He eventually moved from Yorkshire to Wales, where he lives now, with his current squeeze.

We’ll pick him up Saturday and get together with some other old friends and have a wonderful time. We’ll probably eat and drink WAY too much and in the end, Denise and I will steal another two glasses from the Hyatt when we check out. Their little glasses are so stylin’! We’ve got a growing collection. I figure with the price I pay for the room they can throw it in with the bill.

Anyway, have a great weekend and we’ll talk about other stuff on the other end. Cheers.