Sunday, November 30, 2003

I had my birthday today...I'm 44 years old. Certainly not a landmark birthday,but a birthday nonetheless. It's occurrance gave me pause to look back on other birthday's I've my fortieth, where I had so much jagermiester I fell asleep in my chicken sandwich and cracked my head in the parking lot trying to wrestle a friend to the ground.
Or the many birthdays that I bought myself a tattoo to commerate the mark myself with the passing of another year that I could look at in the future and go "oh yeah...I got this tat when I was 35".
I used to gear up for a birthday...steadily more excited in the days leading up to the big one...a big party,drunken debauchery and fuzzy memories.
I just don't have that kind of energy anymore.
So what did I do?
Last night, I went out to dinner with Ann and this morning I went to the gun range with my son and a couple of my friends...we fired off a few hundred rounds and then went to eat wings at BW3...after which we sat on my friends porch and visited.
No fanfare.
Just another day,but not just another day.
It was a day that I did what I WANTED...hard to come by these days.
Funny how things change.

Tuesday, November 25, 2003

No, not the house of the lord...the house of my son. His first apartment.Wow. His place that he's been talking about for a long time with his best friend and finally come to fruition.He called me yesterday with the news and invited me over to see the place today.
What I discovered on arriving was a place very much like my first place when I was his age.(or at least how I remember it) if you replace my Thin Lizzy and Black Sabbath posters with Twizted and ICP posters...
My son spent some time going over fool's hill , and for awhile I worried that I would never get to see this day. He's on the descending side of that hill these days and things are going well for him...Job,going to school and enjoying it...and his own place.
Bonus points for having a cool ride ( a mid seventies El Camino) and a girlfriend.
At almost 19 standards, he is a rousing success, and I am proud of his success.
For me it was a moment where I remembered when my parents came to my first place, and here I am,in my kids first place...I've been on both ends of a significant event now.
Jeez! This is starting to sound like a letter to Dr.Phil!
Sign me-A proud Parent :)

Sunday, November 23, 2003

Witnesses told CNN the soldiers were shot and wounded while riding in a civilian vehicle. Men then cut the soldiers' throats while they were still in the vehicle and a crowd of Iraqis, including children, stripped their bodies of personal effects and weapons, the witnesses said.

Wow...I guess things really are going well in Iraq after all...can you say Somalia?Jeez.
At least were hearing about it.
Probably not for long.
I'm too old to join up in the regular army...not sure about the reserves or the guard...but if I could go over there I a medic and to document the insanity.
Thanks fucking murderer...I guess killing minorities and a woman in Texas didn't fill your needs you piece of shit.

Saturday, November 22, 2003

I could go back and confront him again...and the shit would fly,although I'm 98% sure I could beat him down...I'm not completely sure.
Not a good plan.
Why would I even revisit this?
I'm not sure...but I am offended, after almost 30 years, I am hated by someone I backed up back in the day when he was a shrimpy,lumpy piece of shit with a sign on him that said attention bullies:fuck with me. I doubt he remembers this...again,I'm cutting him slack...why should I care?
I think it all boils down to the time invested...30 years give or take...30 YEARS...that's a long time and then suddenly you're hated...have I been hated all along? Was there something I did long ago to earn a place on his list (you know the list...the one we all have) that I don't remember?
I don't understand why he hates me...maybe that's it,no...I have a clear memory of what happened and his ire is uncalled for.
I hope I can let this go in a day or so...but it has me pretty wound up today.
Back in the day...2 years ago to be and my friends used to frequent a bar in south Austin. The G&S Lounge,which was connected to a liquor store owned by the same family it was so close to my house, they got my business too. That and the fact that the bar and the store were run by two guys I had known since 7th grade. We were never big buddies in school, but I knew them and liked them and because of that they got my business.
The brother that ran the store is an easy going type...always friendly,the brother that ran the bar is a complete fucking nutcase who could (and would turn on you in a heartbeat),known for running customers off with a cattle prod without provocation...that is unless you count the crazy shit going on in his head.Even his brother acknowledged he is an asshole..."But what are you gonna do"?
There's an article at the Austin american statesman about the G&S lounge that further documents his craziness...look it up if you want.
Anyway,about two years ago we were in the bar having drinks and one of my friends made a joke about his ability to mix a particular drink...the next thing you know we're all kicked out with a blistering rant about what a bunch of assholes we all are,but especially focused on our friend that made the joke.That was the end of our patronage at the G&S...
I continued to do business at the liquor store and would on occasion see the bar owning brother who would snub me, and make snide remarks other times...I would look at the other brother for an explanation...What did I do?All I got was the he's an asshole,what else can I say?
So I blew it off and went about my business...until yesterday.
I got off work early and met Ann for lunch at Maudies, which ended up being margs and beers...when we left,Ann was gonna get beer and smokes and I was gonna go by the liquor store and get marg fixin's.
When I got to the store both brothers were there and I attempted to make small talk with the asshole (I should've known better but I had a buzz) he was,true to form,an asshole to me for no reason and stormed out of the store and went back to the bar.
The other brother and I shrugged our shoulders at each other and when I left the store I decided to go into the bar and call this asshole on his shit and hopefully resolve whatever issue there might be...BIG mistake.
He went from 0 to 60 in no time...went off on how me and asshole friends ripped him off(We tipped the balance...even when he gave us deals...if somebody walked a tab,I wasn't there or didn't know about it)...he was threatening,verbally abusive and basically backed me out of the bar entrance,asking me if I "wanted some shit".
So, here I am, with a guy I've known on and off since 1971 that I've never had a harsh word with about to throw down over an incident that happened some two years about holding a grudge.
As much as I wanted to drop his sorry ass right there on the sidewalk in front of his bar, I didn' was his bar and I had a was on his side.I walked away even though I wanted to beat his sorry ass to a pulp.
I'm not a violent man...I don't like to fight,never have...but I can,and my experience in psych hospitals affords me an advantage over your regular joe when it comes to subduing nutcases (and in this case...kicking ass on them).
I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around this's not over.This I know.

Wednesday, November 19, 2003

LT (our other guitarist) was friends with this band Last Tango who had a recurring gig at this club called trophy's on South Congress...they liked to incorporate other musicians into the band and invited me and LT to do a couple of Wolve's songs during the set with them. We showed up at a practice and did 2 of our signature songs "Reststop" and "Artillary" with different drums and was amazing! So we did great response from the crowd .
For me, Playing at Trophy's was special,because I had seen Soul Asylum(when they were a hungry fucking new band...before the runaway/rider hemmorage of talent) there when it was called Blue Bayou and Thin White Rope when it was called Big Mamou's...I was on the same stage of some of my favorite musicians.
I did my best and felt my best on that stage, standing on hallowed ground.
We did the opening slot for Last Tango after that at Trophy's as a band...all four of us.
A friend said we sounded better than ever at Trophy's...he was a victim of our Boomerz shows...:)
The wolve's have been dormant for awhile now...sporadic practices goes on.
When you're 40 something you realize that if you aren't already a star, the chances of becoming one are nil.
And that's least I can say I was in a band....I'm still in a band...

Tuesday, November 18, 2003

I was supposed to add another chapter in the history of my band that maybe 300 people have heard of and would be mildly amused by the story...
After five weeks in treatment ,he's back in the game...with an ad campaign that lauds him as the second coming;"The air feels fresher,the water purer...not because of the environmental whackos...because of ME-RUSH LIMBAUGH"I paraphrase,but you get the gist...El Pig Boy is getting a walk.
This is perhaps the biggest public double standard EVER.
He's on the air monday spouting AA 12 step philosophy it's doctrine...after 5 weeks in treatment????What a load of complete garbage...he jumps to step 9 (making amends) in an instance? He alludes to the truth but doesn't tell it (so NOT true AA cult member behavior) promising to "reveal more" as it is allowed.
I'll tell you what I think...when his high priced lawyers beat everyone down and reform the truth,that's what you'll hear...Limbaugh legal team truth...180 degree's from the reality.
He is a victim...LIE
He never recieved illegal scripts/and/or did parking lot buy's through his maid...LIE
Somehow,because of his status,he's afforded more slack,than say Courtney Love,who were busily shoving it up and breaking it off in a woman who is ...let's face it, a miserable bitch...but for a REASON ...she's never denied it...she's who she is and god love her for it. Here is the truth being played out before your eyes and the public condemns her for it.
But why not Rush? Why does he get a walk?Why is he immune from the condemnation of society (the media)? and Courtney is not?
DOUBLE STANDARD is the catch phrase.
Courtney might be strung out....GET HER!!!!
Rush IS strung out....embrace him like a diety.
A diety of what?
A diety to people so blind they can accept Rush for being a junky piece of garbage and welcome him back with accolades worthy of Jesus, and condemn Courtney for being the same thing, if it's even true(having an addiction ).
I realize the circumstances are different,but it all boils down to the addiction part of it.
They are one in the same...Junkies...lets help them both,equally.
They are the same...they are.
I am starting a call blitz on his show tomorrow,asking the hard questions...I won't get by the screener probably...but I want to know....
How does he get away with it?
Please join me...ask the question.
It's a blow against the empire.
Back to the rock and roll fun tomorrow,and then back to the politics of 2003.

Monday, November 17, 2003

The third and final gig at Boomerz should have been a see I had a penchant for screwdrivers(the liquid ones) and had consumed several over the course of the day starting at brunch...hey,it was sunday,ok?
After unloading at the club,there was the wait through the first set and more screwdrivers,only this time the bartender was trying to kill me with his mixing skills.
By the time we went on there was 2 of everything...two guitars,two mic stands,two drummers and the ceiling had an odd slant to it. I was toast and I knew it,I was also committed, so we launched (lurched?) into our first song and midway through the second I was fine and by some miracle we pulled it off.At the end of the night we were fired...too loud and not what the customers could relate too (more high praise).
So ended our first foray into clubs.
Getting a gig in this town used to be almost impossible unless you were connected,we knew some folks on the perifery of the scene and I was invited to host an open mic at a Jamaican restaurant called Shaggy's... by this time I had written a few decent songs (I quit trying so hard) and had worked up some acoustic versions of our band songs.
This was fun while it lasted (I only hosted once,but we returned several times just to play) but soon the roster filled up with working musicians who didn't have a gig that monday and half the time we couldn't get on the list,and when we did it was limited to 2 or 3 songs. It was a great experience for me personally...I got to share my "other side" with people and got some great advice and support from musicians much more experienced (and talented) than myself.
We abandoned the club thing and re focused our attention on our monthly jams, now held at our guitarists car shop in far east austin,away from any possible complainers,we could play as long and as loud as we was great fun and we got hooked up with a band called Last Tango.
Last Tango would lure us back into the club thing one more time.

Friday, November 14, 2003

We had a friend in a gigging band who liked our music who had a regular Sunday slot at a club called Boomerz...His band played covers...lot's of covers, from stevie ray to the cure.He offered us the first break slot,30 minutes to play in a front of an audience that was 25% our friends and the rest had never heard anything like us.
I had to buy a new amp for this gig because my current amps were too big for the club...I went to the local guitar shop and ended up with a Laney 30 watt tube amp and in the course of the sale learned the guys here referred to Boomerz as the "Iron Lung" and if you counted all the patrons you might end up with a full set of teeth.I was not encouraged.
The first time we played I would look up to see dumbfounded faces,like they kinda got it but didn't quite relate to songs about rest stop serial was like if we were on american bandstand and the rate a record kid would say..."It's got a good beat and you can dance to it, but the lyrics leave me disturbed and confused...".High praise.
We would decide on set list and practice incessantly initially,but as we got it down we relaxed a bit...partially due to our comfort level with the songs in the set.And because it was starting to be more job than fun.
The next time we showed up early and got to mill around for awhile before we played.There were 2 couples, not from around here,who engaged me in conversation about tattoos...mine and thiers.These guys were straight out of county lock up in louisiana...missing teeth and jail house tattoo's,each was equipped with a mildly obese girlfriend in way too tight ,sportin' a yo-yo denim cut-offs and shirts way too small creating a michelin man effect they were oblivious to.
A word about the "stage"...It was so small that we couldn't all fit and I was front and center on the the mix.We were playing a blues number with lots of lead guitar fills (my guitar).I almost always look down when I'm not singing,but especially during lead fills,which on this song are long.
So I finish one and look up to start the next verse and not 2 feet in front of me are the trailer girls...bumping and grinding away to the song, I temporarily lost it,turned around and looked at LT (the other guitarist),who was also cracking up...we gave the signal and wound up the song before we imploded on each other.Half the regulars decide they like us,the other half still has that look from our first time out.We don't know it yet, but Boomerz management wasn't impressed.
Next: Double Vision.

Thursday, November 13, 2003

I've always had a fascination with rock music...from an early age I used to sing along with the radio to the popular hits of the day.In junior high and high school I fancied myself a singer and a bass player...well, I could approximate the vocal stylings of Geedy Lee and Robert Plant and Rob Halford,but I was left handed and besides those guys in that band from houston that opened for Robin Trower in San Antonio in 1976...I can't recall the name now...but they rocked...there weren't many left handed guitars around so when I played, I played upside more ways than one.
In 1985 me,my neighbor a coworker and a buddy from high school formed what would come to be known as "Left for Dead" we had our inauguration on new years eve 1985 and annoyed the neighbors with several hours of the same song...over and over...which came to be known as "Gary's Song" (the neighbor) until they called the cop's (something we would experience many times, in many incarnations of the band) when the cops arrived we had arrived...I greet them at the door replete in sleeveless T and blue bandanna,pirate style and charm them with promises of "were done officer...10:00 curfew?I didn't know...never again...blah...blah...yadayada." The cops shut us down! (sort of) man...we are rock and ROLL!!!!
Left for dead made it to late 1986 with a catalog of 3 songs and endless jams in the garages of 2 of my houses...but it was ultimately a reason to get together and abuse drugs and alchohol and piss off the entire block...except those houses who were also abusing drugs and alchohol and would occaisionally wander up and stand in the driveway while we played.
During this time I also wrote some really lame acoustic "dylanesque" solo songs that I only shared with family and bandmates who always looked to be on the verge of vomiting but saying "that's a good one man".
This pattern ran itself down through attrition and children and job changes until 1994.
I had been dating Ann for awhile and we had the rock band jones in common...I was still in touch with my high school buddy drummer,she had a high school buddy guitarist,I had moved on to guitar at this point and lefty guitars were readily available...Ann's friend was also left handed...and we had money to buy equipment and start a band.
Wolve's @ Th' Door was born.
We practiced every weekend...practicies were big affairs...with us playing and bbq-ing and socializing.Before we knew it, we had enough original songs to play parties and we did.Soon,we built a deck/stage in our back yard and began hosting monthly jams in our back yard affectionatley called "Club Spit"...basically giant versions of the Left for dead jams with multiple bands,singers and spoken word folks performing until the cops shut us down or 10:00pm came around...It was a glorious time. We were music to break furniture by...equal parts blues,heavy metal and ugly amalgom,but effective.
By the time we started playing clubs we had 23 or so original songs and a couple of unusual covers.
Next: By the time we started playing clubs....the story continues.
FLASH! That band I referenced from Houston: POINT BLANK....
Must be that chink in my hard drive......:)

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

It reads like a Stalinist manifest!Here's an excerpt: NOTE: Editorial submissions of any kind are not accepted. The Onion cannot guarantee their return, nor can The Onion guarantee a response to unsolicited submissions. Requests for articles/graphics from past issues are not accepted and The Onion cannot guarantee a response to such requests.
Can you believe this shit?! Not only are they comedy snobs...they won't even email back to rub it in...Bastards!!!!
After Comedy Central stole my idea for a show about straight guys "converting a homo"
ala' "Queer eye for the Straight Guy"...I figured my only outlet was to do a commentary in the tried and true "point-counterpoint" model.
If you read the above excerpt from The Onion...they don't care if they miss out on possibly the funniest bit of subversive online renegade writing theyv'e ever read and won't even write back to gloat...So here it is...tomorrow afternoon actually...but until then here's a snipet:
"I've always had a sense of color...the right colors" (point or counter-point?)

Monday, November 10, 2003

I finally got to see Road to Perdition, and while I enjoyed the bummed me out.There were so many overfolds from other movies I had a hard time staying morose. For example, when Tom Hank's character is bent over his plate of food at the diner and Jude Law's character is watching him I kept imagining Tom was talking to "Wilson" from "Cast Away", ( who was conviently out of camera range -on the table...where the PLATE should be!)asking for advice...Then there's the scene where Jude's character is photographing the stabbing victim...who's not dead,so jude kills him and then takes the picture ...I kept flashing on Jude's portrayal of the russian hero sniper...who kills the fuck out of alot of nazi assholes in a very hero like fashion in "enemy at the gate"....Then there's the part at the end that conjured up visions of Hanks ,mortally wounded,firing his side arm at that tank in "Saving Pvt.Ryan" like a retard...which reminded me of Hank's portrayal of the idiot savant retard country boy makes good in "Forrest Gump".
Thinking of Gump made me think of Gary Sinese who for some strange reason makes me think of Tom Sizemore,who was in "Saving Pvt. Ryan" with Hanks, but is now in Jail for abusing Hiedi Fleiss,an ignorant slut...which reminds me of Jane Curtain on Saturday Night Live,which Tom Hanks has hosted many times,frequently playing a retard of some sort which reminds me of that sitcom he was in way back in the day "Busom Buddies" and then he made the movie that launched him "Big".And that made me realize something more important...
WHY do I know ALL this useless shit?

Sunday, November 09, 2003

New discoveries
I was driving to the store tonight when I realized that our car with the automatic transmission came with a factory installed tachometer, but our truck with the standard transmission has no tach at all. I've been driving the car for four years and only now did my brain register there was a tach on the dashpanel. On the other hand, I'm completely aware that the truck has no tach because I always look for the tach and then remember it doesn't have one. This discovery of a tach that's been in front of my face for four years comes days after my discovery of an air conditioner vent under the steering wheel, also previously unnoticed during four years of driving the vehicle. I blamed that one on the fact that I'd probably never driven the car in a dress before, but now I think maybe I'm just damned good at ignoring things that are not of immediate interest or importance. What possible use is there for a tach in a car with an automatic transmission that will never see the drag strip? And that vent under the steering wheel? Well, maybe it provides the guys with some necessary ball cooling, but there better be a way to close it the next time I'm driving around in a dress.
The answer
Every year I dread the question of "What do you want for Christmas?" I should be hearing this soon from my mother who always has her shopping done by Thanksgiving. Well, thanks to Subversity I now have the answer. Anything from this place would be a soothing balm for the scars I have from biting my tongue while handing out the real thing.
My Bloginality is INTP
Interesting that such a short questionnaire would give the same results as from the real Myers-Briggs test which I have taken periodically over the last 20 plus years. Some people change categories over time, but I've always been an INTP. One therapist, after reviewing my assorted off and on therapy records from a period of about ten years or so, told me, "You seem to have a very stable personality." It was not meant as a compliment. Well, what can I say? I spent a great deal of energy as a child trying to change who I was to no avail. I didn't fit in and when I did manage to "fake it" for a while and be accepted by the other kids, I was completely disgusted with myself the whole time. It wasn't worth it and I went back to being the "weirdo". High school finally rescued me from that torture when I fell into the auto mechanics students/street racing crowd where I fit like a glove. Okay, not quite like a glove because they were all guys and I was this weirdo girl that liked to work on cars who wasn't allowed to actually take the auto mechanics class because I was a girl and girls weren't allowed to enroll. However, the auto mechanics teacher was cool and let me hang around and many of my teachers were also cool and wrote me passes to go down to the shop on days I didn't need to be in class (which was most of them) so it was a workable arrangement. Case in point: English Lit class consisted of reading X number of books off a list of 50 and writing book reports about them. I had already read every single one of the books on the list, most of them when I was in elementary school. The teacher, after a long question and answer session to determine that I had indeed actually read all of them, managed to come up with X number of books not on the list. I'll always be grateful to her for pointing me towards "Red Sky at Morning" by Richard Bradford which I liked so much that I "lost" the copy and had to buy it from the library. All the same, I read all the books and completed all the required reports after only two weeks of class so... well, there you have it - a permanent pass down to the auto mechanics shop for the rest of the quarter (a bit shorter than a semester for those of you unfamiliar with the stupid quarter system.) Rinse and repeat for several classes. So I managed to have a pretty good time in high school despite the fact that I was a pretty weird chick. Did I go to the prom? No way, I was probably out racing and winning $50 from some unsuspecting dude ;->

Saturday, November 08, 2003

Lost in the blogosphere
It's raining outside and the air is chilly. Our dogs have the right idea and have spent the entire day curled up and sleeping. I have spent the afternoon wandering around from blog to blog. I used to go down through my blogrolling list each day and check each site in alphabetical order, but the list got a bit too long to do that at one sitting and not everyone posts every day. So now I haphazardly jump around and of course someone will link to someone else who will link to someone else and before long I've wandered way off track. It goes something like this... I visit Snooze Button Dreams which leads me to Electric Venom which leads me to Suburban Blight which got me to admit that I was once a Pern-head and off I go to take some silly Quizilla test.

And so on and so forth for the entire afternoon. I've got windows and tabs open where I have no clue as to how I got there in the first place such as this white paper called The Blogging Iceberg which confirmed my suspicion that most of the bloggers in the world are under age 30.

I was planning on going out to a neighborhood coffeehouse/cafe/bar called The Green Muse tonight, but the weather is too crappy for me to be sitting outside on their back patio so I think I will just stay home, drink beer and wander about on the web.
Political Compass
This seems to be making the rounds this week as I found it mentioned by both Essay and Robert. Like Robert, I had taken it long ago when it first hit the net and all I remember was I ended up somewhere near the Dalai Lama. At that time I was completely taken by surprise when I fell on the left side of the economic scale. I've always considered myself to be a strong supporter of capitalism and free markets and back when I was in college (over 20 years ago) I once took a test that placed me firmly on the economic right. No communism for this gal. Obviously something had changed over the years and after a bit of thought about the matter I realized that I had simply spent too many years working for corrupt corporations who didn't give a damn about their employees. That was, after all, one of the reasons I walked away from a 15 year career in Human Resources. I got very tired of watching rank-and-file employees lose benefits and raises while upper level executives received huge annual pay increases and company provided Jaguars. With so much first hand knowledge about the ways that certain companies shit on their employees, my answers to the economic questions on this quiz definately fell towards the left. I decided to take the test again so I could add my numbers to Tim Lambert's chart of bloggers. Apparently a year of unemployment has pushed me even farther to the economic left and I blame the Patriot Act for the push closer towards the Libertarian end of the scale. I scored as follows:

Economic Left/Right: -6.25
Libertarian/Authoritarian: -6.41

I guess the next time someone tells me that I'm out in left field, I'll just have to agree with them.

Friday, November 07, 2003

A Few Random Thoughts
Rob gets the floor for discussing the entertaining (?) events of the evening so I'll just jot down some random things that I thought about today.

(1) I apparently run less risk of running afoul of city ordinances if I just beg for money on the street corners of Austin rather than attempt to sell an actual product. Perhaps I should take up begging as a full time profession instead.

(2) The stereotype of the Asian tourist with cameras is not just an exaggerated generality. I actually witnessed a tour bus disgorge approximately 20 Asians males who promptly proceeded to take pictures of the Whole Foods Grocery on Lamar. Maybe I need to take stereotypes a bit more seriously in the future.

(3) The job that "fits you to a tee" will *require* a college degree, which you don't have. I'm from a generation where you didn't need a degree unless you were going to be a doctor, lawyer or engineer. These days, even some of the clerk positions require a friggin' college degree. The job pays $10/hour and requires a degree? Unfortunately for me, in this town, they'll have plenty of "qualified" applicants.

(4) A 20 degree drop in temperature in Austin, TX will result in everyone wearing jackets even though it's only down to 50 degrees. Including myself. It's was only 50 degrees this morning and I was running my underdesk heater. What a wimp!

(5) Duct tape has been an essential item for me long before the Homeland Security Department ever stated we should all possess a roll of it. We used to refer to it as "hundred mile an hour tape" back when I was a street racer and I can testify that it actually holds up quite well to 150 MPH if needed. It comes in handy for so many things and one use that many of you may not have thought about (or ever needed) is those times when you need to leave the light on in a room, yet you have a compulsive light turner-offer like me living in the house. Just stick a piece of duct tape over the light switch and that's enough to remind the compulsive light turner-offer to leave the damn light on. In this case it 's because there's a turtle soaking in the bathtub, but I seriously doubt that's something that would occur on a regular basis in most households. I'm sure there must be other equally valid reasons to leave a light on in a room because otherwise my habit of turning the lights off wouldn't have rendered so many screams of protest over the years....
Ann and I met at our favorite place after work today (it's payday after all) and it was cool at first , but then a group came in with a demon child who immediately began screaming BEFORE the high chair torture device was introduced...not a good sign.
Let me describe this group of people...we have of course the screaming toddler,her mother,a dreadlocked twentysomething know nothing, the father... a "i cut off my mangy dreads and now wear a watchmans cap to cover it up but still have the mangy beard with shit living in it you don't want to catch...the parents,a scary barfly looking woman paired with a guy that has probably seen more prison than free time.An added bonus was the asexual looking aunt who looked like a retard.
So the kid is screaming and they put it in "time out" audibly so the offended (us) will know they are dealing with the you can imagine...the kid just screams louder what with being pushed face in to the wall of the patio...we see and hear these lame ass attempts with contempt,this is no place for a child...this is not burger king's playscape (damn them and McDonalds for fostering the "a restaurant is an ok place to let our feral children run wild" to the american public) this is an adult facility,and the adults don't like your snotty nosed rug rats running roughshod over our attempt to have a peaceful time of drinks and tex-mex...get a fucking babysitter ok???
So...the satan child leaves...they bus the tables and pull three of them together...oh's an office party.
Here's a description of an office party (8 or more people,who work together,getting together for drinks and food) set to the lyrics of that song by rick nelson's "Garden party"
Well I fell into an office party and the women were all so loud
that they couldn't hear each other above the din
and the laughter was fake and loud
with each round of margaritas they got increasingly shill and loud
cackling like like a bunch of fucking hens
and I couldn't hear myself think at all
Because they are so fucking self centered...they didn't notice the disapproving looks
That I threw at them like I wished they were claymore mines... the analogy only works minimally but you get the point.
There are kids and fucked up kids...don't bring a fucked up kid out in public unless you are sure you can control said fucked up kid...don't ruin my time just because your fucked up kid has ruined's you're kid not, mine...don't share the trauma with me.
And you loud asshole office groups...chill the fuck out or do it at home.

Thursday, November 06, 2003

When I came home from work today I greeted the "top dog" (Sullivan) first,and was met met by a limping, bloodied, somewhat less than enthusiastic victor with a couple of nasty gashes over his eye and a mean rip on his shoulder.He was a much subdued version of his usual loud, boisterous self.
Then I greeted Theo "the loser", minimal superficial wounds,no limping and seemingly none the worse for wear...Sully was more interested in sleeping on the couch (unusual for him)...Theo was like he always is... and Irene is still queen of the roost.
there's something wrong with this picture.
Is the winner actually the loser? I look back and don't remember having dogs being such a class struggle...we have dogs,we love our dogs,they love each other and us, and we all get along swimmingly. Something's changed.
It got me to thinking...Have we somehow complicated the pack mentality by invading the realm of the dog and infecting it with our uniquely human form of petty bullshit?
Was who gets fed first,who gets greeted first,who gets the fancy collar not an issue for dogs before we made it an issue?
Before we domesticated them dogs fought over things like who gets to mate with who? and who gets the good parts of the kill? Dominance was born out of survival , not who gets greeted first at the end of the day.
Dogs didn't kill each other over a space on the bed or couch until we complicated thier lives.
I looked at Theo and Sully this afternoon and was reminded of Rodney King's plaintive cry "why can't we all just get along?"
As far as dogs are concerned,I think we fucked up the balance by imposing our petty bullshit on them...they were fine when they they were just dogs...and somehow,over the years,we have altered thier essence.
I love my dogs, and to promote harmony in the pack I have to redouble my efforts to be more like be a working pack.
The pack mentality.
We could learn something from a nation I mean,but that's another story.
The Dog Fight
Our two male dogs got in a fight this morning in the doorway of the office. I'm not sure how I got out of the office and into the hallway since they were between me and the door, but I wasn't about to try and pull them apart or pull them away from the guitars cases or the printer. Last time I tried to save a piece of furniture I got a nasty bite on my stomach. All I could do was watch while the guitar cases came crashing down on top of them as they apparently tried to rip each other's ears off. I remembered Theo's complete fear of the "can of air", those cans of compressed air that I use to blow the dust out of my keyboards, and I tried that, but it didn't work. Most likely because Sullivan doesn't give a damn about the can of air and Sullivan was definitely winning the fight. I decided to throw the water out of their water dish on them which I know never actually works to stop a dog fight, but it was a way to express my frustration, fear and anger about the battle before me. Naturally the water didn't phase them, but when I waved the empty water dish above Sullivan's head it distracted him just long enough for me to get the office door closed with Theo on one side and Sullivan on the other. I'm sure the water dish had nothing to do with it other than perhaps Sullivan had decided he had "won" and was now thirsty.

There are no major injuries that I can see. There are plenty of shallow cuts, both of them are rather stiff and sore and there's a bit more ear shaking than I'd like to see so I'll be checking the ears again tonight, but I think we can skip a trip to the vet this time. The first fight was much, much uglier than this one and this time I'll place the blame squarely on myself and Rob. The first fight was Sullivan's adolescent move to topple Theo out of the top dog spot. Since Sullivan was clearly the winner, we modified our behavior accordingly, but I think we've been slipping and occasionally favoring Theo again. Well, here's our wake up call because not paying attention to pack hierarchy is a dumb thing to do when you have two large male dogs living in the same house. When it comes to dog training, it's usually the owners that need the training, not the dogs and apparently we're no exception, sigh.
I haven't drank enough coffee yet but...
Frustrated by my early bedtime these days, I've decided to start blogging straight out of bed. This is probably a mistake, but I've got a spell checker handy so I'll give it a go even though it will likely take me hours to compose a few coherent paragraphs.

I've been out and about the last two afternoons running a variety of ill-fated errands. Ill-fated in the sense that most errands were not completed. I needed to make copies of something before I mailed it, but the copy machine at the post office was broken. I went to another post office, but it had no copy machine at all. A trip to a nearby store with a copy machine found me scrambling in my purse for change to pay for the copies and returning my other items to the shelves because their credit card machine went down. Not a big deal, I had time to get to the next place by 4:00 pm, but then my car was trapped in the parking lot by a delivery truck for 20 minutes. I still had minutes to spare as I pulled into the lot of the next location only to lose those minutes looking for parking. No parking, the clock ticked down and I decided fate was against me and went to Maudies for a beer instead of running any more errands. Much better to be sipping a cold beer at Maudies than driving around in rush hour traffic anyway. Yesterday was a rinse and repeat experience of traffic delays, parking problems and stores without the expected items on their shelves. I have decided that the best thing about not having a job is that I don't have to drive to some place and back every day and deal with the mess that is Austin traffic. I will, however, have to face this again should I ever get that elusive job. It seems these days that all the jobs are either in Round Rock or some other place that is an hour's commute away and pay about what it would cost me in gas and therapy bills to drive that far. Rob's increasingly frustrated with being poor so I suppose I will start sending applications in that direction as well. As far as I'm concerned, no amount of salary could ever adequately compensate for a drive to Round Rock, but if it means keeping the lights on... well... okay.

Wednesday, November 05, 2003

I look around our world today with dismay and a creeping sense of dread. As our government keeps digging the hole deeper and deeper here and abroad what you see and hear on the news becomes an increasingly transparent attempt to distract us from how deep the hole has gotten.
If anyone is foolish enough to still think our involvement in Iraq/Afghanistan is legitimate,I want some of whatever it is they are smoking/snorting/shooting (which probably came from one of the aforementioned countries).
There are rumblings about reinstating the draft for crissakes...if that isn't one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse I don't know what is. My son could end up dying in one of these countries for a man who clearly is in it for profit...I don't like him(my son) much some of the time,but I wouldn't wish that on anyone...not the 173 dead since that asshole in the white house said "bring 'em on" (where, by the way , is the outrage over this statement? why isn't somebody, somewhere beating this shit like the proverbial dead horse???)...but especially not my son,or anybody else's son or daughter for that matter. The white house poo-poo's the comparisons to Viet Nam, but we didn't lose almost 58000 in the Nam in 8 was years in the taking...they ticked up slowly,just like now. When Rummy says long,hard ,slog what the fuck do you think he's talking about? He was there,he knows...he's talking about bodies,bottom line. Our enemies are taking a page from the bible of Ho Chi Minh and applying it in Iraq. What killed us in the Nam ,and everybody before us back to the 16th century spanish missionaries was nationalism...if you think the radical people of Iraq don't have that same tenacity, think again...they hate us and our ideologies with every fiber of thier being.If we want a swift end to this we should bomb Saudi Arabia into the stone age...but we won't because the bush administration is chugging saudi dick 24-7 (just my opinion). Imagine that...from the 1500's NOBODY could impose thier will on a little country full of fucking rice paddies...what are we doing in the middle east? one word: oil.One name:Bush. We, as a nation are taking it up the ass,and we're so full of the narcotic of the white house controlled media we hardly notice the intrusion...we're more focused on the shit they cram down our throats (go to for many examples of this shit...this useless "friends provides sex education for our children") to notice the complete rape of our credibility in the world arena...many countries hate us..and they should...we deserve it...the U S of A is fast becoming a piece of S H I and T.
Internally we aren't doing much better....a jobless recovery my may have heard the in india et al...big corporations in thier rush for the buck are dooming this country...championed by that retard in the whitehouse...amazing isn't it? Big AMERICAN companies are rapid firing nails into the coffin of america by outsourcing.
We're killing ourselves out of greed,and when the end finally comes these companies will throw thier hands in the air and claim they had no clue...FUCK them.
I used to think that if I worked hard I could have a good life in I'm reduced to my chances at the lottery.And you know how that goes.
What's that sucking sound?It's us,going down the drain.

Tuesday, November 04, 2003

Food allergies suck
I have a few food allergies. These are true allergies, the kind that make me break out in hives or make my throat and tongue swell up or make my digestive system react as if I have food poisoning. I've yet to need the adrenalin shot, but I've come pretty damn close before. I thought I'd pretty much figured out everything I'm allergic to, but I was quite surprised to wake up on Monday morning feeling extremely ill. Was the pork from that previous night bad? Why can I barely open my eyes? Why does it feel like I have something stuck in my throat? Why does this remind me of the lobster experience? Because it's a allergy response, you idiot - grab the Benadryl!

Turns out I didn't need to go get an adrenalin shot, but I did need to figure out what was I allergic to this time. And the only thing "new" that I ate was sauerkraut. I've always avoided it before, but my memory was that I just didn't like the smell as a kid (my mom was a big sauerkraut fan.) Well, I really enjoyed the pork cooked with sauerkraut late Sunday evening, but I definitely did not enjoy what happened in the early hours of Monday morning. So I add yet another thing to my list of foods that I can't eat. Sauerkraut seems a really strange thing to be allergic to, but there's no denying the reaction that my body had to it nor the effectiveness of Benadryl on the symptoms. I suspect that I've either never actually eaten it before or it made me sick at the time I did eat it because I can say with certainty that I've not eaten it in at least the last 30 years or so. I did find it tasty this time, but it wasn't so good that I'll be craving it again anytime soon. Unlike oranges, which I pine for regularly and occasionally break down and eat one and end up with a nice case of hives as a result. Oranges and shrimp - two things I shouldn't eat, but do and one or the other will probably be the death of me someday when I have a much more severe reaction than just hives. Some people live dangerously by jumping motorcycles over canyons and I live dangerously by just eating food. Ah well, I guess we all need some element of risk in our lives, eh?
For them to leave. Tomorrow morning, the GM, the cleaning and renovations managers and several senior techs are leaving for NOLA and won't be back until monday.This leaves me with 2 techs to do the work that gets called in,a cleaning department that essentially takes care of itself,all the retail traffic(my usual job) and the phones (which I answer or end up dealing with anyway more than anyone else with the exception of the GM...MAYBE).
I will be in charge.
I can't wait! I am baptised in management by crisis...this will be no problem for me without these "key" staff members around to help (complicate matters). I was invited to go but opted out because we are "broke ass poor" and can't afford it.Knowing my love of the big NO,everyone was surprised I opted out...I played it down,but really I would have loved to go...but since I can't,I'll hold down the fort and somebody better bring me a fucking t-shirt from Marie Levous(sp?) house of voodoo.
Enough horn tooting.
Good news on the dog vet (he fucking ROCKS) diagnosed the problem with the GM's dog that his previous vet missed...some antibiotics and some fluids and she should be fine...that's my vet...he KNOWS his animal ailments,better than the average vet...I was relieved to hear that Pepper could be helped.
Anyway...the next few days should be interesting.

Monday, November 03, 2003

When I got to work this morning there was no Shadow waiting for me at the door. "Oh...they haven't let her out of her yard yet..." . The GM was getting out of his car as I was and we commenced our tradition of "having a smoke" (he quit...I haven't...but he still gets to have a smoke) on the sidewalk in front of the store with the usual what's up and such.There was no barking..." she must be upstairs with the AP clerk who brings her SIX pork tenderloin steaks to hide strategically around the shop" I thought to myself.(what self respecting street dog wouldn't love this clerk?).
When I finally went Shadow.I headed to the back to let her out and was in the cleaning dept. when the admin. assist informed me she was of the cleaners had taken her home!
She gets to sleep inside at night and has one constant companion instead of 30...hooray!As good as good news gets, I missed her today...the shop felt empty.
Back to the morning smoke...The GM's Dog is old...10 plus years and a large breed...she'd had some problems breathing in the recent past and went off her food...improved some but had recently fallen back to illness,not eating,listless...etc..
The GM fears his dog is dying and will ultimately have to be put down.
This guy loves his dog...he knows I have had my share of loss with dogs,having to put down the one and only Buddy(lived a remarkable 14 yrs.,despite being a large breed mix) and our Boxer Diamond,and he asked me what it was like...
How do you describe what it's like to kill something you love?
Even if you know it's the only thing to do?
I tried to explain it to him...I think I managed "it's really hard dude" before the memories came crashing in and after reciting some mecahnics of the procedure ended with "it's hard dude,I don't like thinking about this day". I referred him to my vet.
This was all before 8am.
The day went by with my thoughts on Shadow and our time together and I went further Diamond and Skeeter (another boxer who died suddenly of an aortic anuerism) to Buddy the wonder dog, to parents Irish Setter.
I was engulfed in the memories of dogs...they touched me then...they touch me now.
I did my 4 miles after work and came home to the usual...Irene racks me 2 steps into the door,Theo sticks his nose in the grocery bags, and Sully barks until you put the toy in his mouth...then he rumbles while you scratch his back and tell him you love him.
And he loves doubt about it.

Sunday, November 02, 2003

My exciting life - NOT
Laundry, dishes, picking up dog poop. Oh yeah, I'm living "The life of Riley". That idiom is probably meaningless to anyone younger than me and probably meaningless to a lot of people my age as well, but I had older parents so it was common use in the household when I was a kid. For those of you not familiar with the phrase, it means something along the lines of living the easy life. Well, unemployment has it's perks in that I have no outside job to go to every morning, but struggling to pay the bills and feeling the need to play housewife since I'm not earning an income has left me a bit unfulfilled. I wish I had inherited my mom's housework genes, but I didn't. I'm the kind of person that will not notice the dust bunnies in the hallway until they are so big that they actually attach to your pants leg as you are walking by them. Only then do I look in amazement at the mess in the hall and grab the broom. I have made great progress in keeping up with the dishes and the laundry since I've been unemployed, but I'm nowhere near my mom's super housework woman status. That woman worked a full-time job and kept a spotless house with absolutely no help from my dad. I can't figure out how she did it because I can't do it with NO job. Maybe housework was a "hobby" for my mom because she's mentioned that she actually LIKES it. I can't imagine such a thing. What possible thrill could one get from cleaning something that's only going to be dirty again in a few days? I think in my former lives I must have been a nomad...make a mess... leave it behind and move on...
Who goes to the fabric store? Soccer moms in need of some batting to give that gingham goose by the front entry...nay..."foyer" some chubbiness befitting a goose. Or maybe the mother and daughter team trying desperately to bond via the patterns of Simplicity,with mom thinking of the manhattans to come and daughter thinking of the boyfriends to places mom wouldn't like. Or maybe the fat couple, dressed in jungle patterns and loud hawiian shirts like people would mistake the girth for a seductive, tropical's not're tropical but still fat...give up and start exercising.
They were all there, and all staring at me...looking at the buttons.I was shopping for buttons for a shirt recently ressurrected from the grave sans it's buttons.I thought dice buttons would look cool and went in search of said buttons.
I landed at the fabric store nearest my house and found my buttons...very cool buttons by the way...but the stares...They were staring at me like I was from another planet.
To them I am outwardly a freak...a heavily tattooed,00 plugged ears freak.
They don't know who I visage frightens and confuses them...they wonder why I am in the fabric store...I will be the topic of conversation at dinners and pentecostal prayer meetings for days to come...that pathetic soul covered in sin. I just needed some buttons.
And that's the problem...
They see me as who they think I am...I see them for what they are.

Saturday, November 01, 2003

Well here it is...we survived another foray into halloween and it's all saints day.Let's cover the halloween thing first...for 2 years in a row I've listened to callers calling in to my drive time talk radio condemn this "holiday" as the embodiment of evil...please!
It's halloween...that night when little kids dress up and go collect candy which they eat until they have a tummy ache.Adults partake in much the same way...except what ends up upsetting thier stomaches isn't a reeses cup.
Whichever religious nut that started the "halloween is evil" campaign should be's not like were dancing standing up.There is a history to halloween...and it's not a shameless leap into pagan idolatry.
For the record:All Hallows Eve.: What once served as a spooky New Years Eve tradition for the ancient Celts (which they called Samhain) was ultimately appropriated by Pope Gregory IV in 840 AD to serve as the daylong vigil preceding the Feast of All Saints. Even so, the Christians preserved the pagan festival's spooky trappings anyway. Cunning bastards.(thank you rotten-dot-com).
Now back to all saints day...
Our local public radio station celebrated today by playing music from musical saints that are no longer with us...I like this concept,honor those that have changed us in some small yet meaningful way. On this all saints day I'd like to thank the following:
Jimi Hendrix: Thanks for being a visionary with the guitar,but mostly thanks for being a visionary with a lefthanded guitar.
Janis Joplin: Thanks for being the hellified voice of the blues.
Jerry Garcia: Thanks for "ripple" and a thousand other gems.
Bob Stinson: Thanks for the replacements as I want to remember them.
Phil Lynott: Thanks for the stories.
Mark Dorsey: Thanks for the samurai vibe...I hope you got to see ghost dog before you died.
Johnny Cash: It burns,burns,burns...hope you're not.
The list goes on and on,but I won't.
Happy all saints day...may the saints preserve us.