ARRRRRGH!

Did you ever have one of those days when you wonder which thing will be the one that makes that bloodvessel in your brain pop? '06 just has not been good to me so far. Today may determine whether I continue posting or die of a massive anurism.

Cocktale Napkins

I used to be somewhat of an artist. Those days are gone. My only real talent in art now lies in the doodle. I can make recognizable animals and stuff, get my point across, but that's about all. Last night at the pub I was doodling on cocktail napkins. My friend Michael was there, so I made the above sketch of me and him. I stole the lines from a comic strip, but it was so "me" I couldn't resist. In case you can't read the scratchings (I was at a pub) I'm saying "I hear ghosts only haunt places they have angry unfinished business." to which Michael replies "Man, you're gonna be EVERYWHERE!" I think I captured me pretty well... Michael's nose is pointier than that. Sigh.

HA!

No cartoon charicters were harmed in the making of this post.

Blown Away (Part I)

The Austin "Blown-Star" Blog Meet has come and gone. I have been meaning to put some "afters" on here for some time. I won't bore you with excuses, but will just move on to the reports. The cast of characters (and boy are they) I am about to pass on to you is not in any real particular order, mainly chronological, but not adhering to that standard.

I missed Friday's meet to attend a concert, so, I was already a day behind when I arrived on Saturday. I got to the hotel and with great eagerness went up to the sixth floor balcony to find... Nobody was there. Hmmmm... I went to the bar (logic dictates) and... It was empty. I guess I hit the supper break. So, being a self entertaining kind of guy I ordered a glass of bourbon and decided to wait and watch.

I recognized this shining face rushing by the bar, stopped her and immediately got a big hug and a welcome. She was on her way to see the bats, and El Capitan was sitting in his Caddy out front waiting for them. I walked outside did a quick meet and greet and decided that since I'd seen the bats before (I live here) I was going back to the bar. I was told that Marcus was eating in the diningroom having a burger, but I opted to wave at him from a distance told him to keep eating and I'd meet him officially later. Hotel bars are notoriously depressing so I downed my drink and went upstairs again.

I suppose I should have recognized this Helluva nice guy when I hit the top, but I can be kind of dense sometimes, I introduced myself and he gave me a good cigar. We chatted for a while, and little by little they wandered up. Here's where it gets a little fuzzy.

I squared off with this redneck right off the bat. I was still trying to act polite, and there was no call for me to be. What else did I expect from a good 'ol boy who got his start in the same state I did. We were only about three sentences in before he offered me the quick way down off the building. (sorry Livey, it wasn't you... Although he did reiterate the offer when I was rubbing your neck) I was headed back to the parking lot for a bottle when I bumped into The Man (I knew I had made it as a blogger when he quoted me on his blog) coming off the elevator. He was a lot quieter than I expected. (and shorter, no offence) He explained the quiet part in his blog and that was good enough for me. I did notice that he had a self satisfied smile on his face every time I saw him, a very confident individual indeed. This debonair chap actually asked me if I had cooties when I offered him a pop out of my flask, that was a first since third grade, but he did take a hit, and we got on famously after that. One or another of these guys was playing guitar when some jackass (actually he's a really great guy) told the group I was with to "Hey, shut up a second, OK". After they were done I joined that side of it and threatened them with my favorite long, convoluted biker story. Not knowing I'd really carry it out he baited me, and off we went. I've gotten laughs with "the chipmunk story" before, but with the interjections and comments this time I got to play the straight man for once. I plowed through with the singlemindedness of Forrest Gump while I was heckled and ridiculed and the crowd around us began to revolve. People were actually limping away holding their sides and tears streaming down their faces while new people showed up to see what was so funny. Finally Eric couldn't hold up his end anymore and collapsed and I wound it up. (I think Eric was mildly disappointed that I wasn't quite that dense and we were playing each other, but it was still epic)

I think this is as good a place as any to pause to catch my breath. To Be Continued...

Father Time

My Father was born May 9th, 1919. Raised on a farm in Menola, NC (don't look for it on a map, it's a small area in the middle of Ahoskie, Woodland and Murfreesboro), he was next to the youngest of 10 kids. He spent 4 years in the south pacific as a combat engineer during WWII. He came back married my Ma and had 5 kids himself (well, not himself... that would be wierd). Ma used to tell me the difference between faith and knowledge was that she knew I was hers, Pop had faith I was his... But, all you have to do is look at pictures of him and me at the same ages and you can tell. He taught me gun safety, and how to shoot, hunt and fish. Oddly enough I don't think I ever played catch with Pops. He taught me how to swing a hammer and a hoe, but not a bat. He taught me how to light a fire, split wood, drive a truck, drive a tractor, plant a garden, pick vegetables... Well, in essence, how to work. I hate to work. I am actually fairly lazy. You'ld never know by the way I work 60-80 hours every week, but I am. Pops always found something for me to do. He was always in the middle of some project or another, and I got roped in more than I care to think about. I am a consumate jack-of-all-trades because of that. All of my siblings are, every one. Build stuff, fix stuff, break stuff way beyond repair rather than admit we can't fix it...
He knew everybody. Everywhere we went someone knew "Mr. Bud". I couldn't get away with a damn thing as a kid. I always got ratted out by someone who knew my Pop. Well, thats not strictly true. I did avoid a night in lock-up once because his cousin was the magistrate on duty. (ignore that Ma) But it was damn hard to do bad stuff and not get punished.
He was respected throughout our community. He was always asked for help and advice. He was steadfast and reliable, always there when he was needed. He always had a story or a joke (something else we all inherited).
I was just twenty-two when he died. I was still pretty dumb back then. I wish I could talk to him now... Let him know that I finally grew up... Some. The older I get, the wiser my Father was. I wish I was too.

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'

That clinches it. I'll be doing the new blogroll tomorrow or the next day. The Blown-Star (hat tip to somebody) blodgefest is over. What a great bunch of folks. Several of them are going to be blogrolled here from now on. I deeply and sincerely regret that I did not get to spend more time among them. Over the next few days or so, I will catalogue a few of the folks I met and provide some linkage to them. I only got two pictures, and I am in both, but I may post them regardless. I feel very proud... Only one of them threatened to throw me over the 6th floor railing.