SwampLog 3.0

CQ... CQ...

Still alive. Not really kicking, since that would require a bit of effort, and I truly don't have that in me.

Devinukah 2004 begins at sundown tonight. I'll be celebrating by working at Bronco's. Expect things to be a bit ... looser than normal.

I honestly don't have a lot to say right now, because I'm trying to sort everything out. Where everything seemed so clear in April (work, home, heart), nothing is meshing together at all. I shouldn't expect anything to make sense, after the last three decades, and (as Gary repeatedly reminds me) it's all a matter of perception.

Basically, I'm crowding the rock face again, and need to back away a little bit and get my bearings.

Apologies if this is all cryptic, but you know how, when you sit down to make out a list of things you need to do and nothing jumps out as a secondary priority? Everything on your list needs immediate and total attention? That's the way my life is at this moment.

I need to figure it out soon -- I've already alienated one person (I'm sorry, LLB) and it was only because I have no handle on my time. I hope that the damage isn't more extensive.

I think the way to get back on track is a big-ass burrito at Freebird's. Yeah. Or a caramel frappucino at Starbucks. Something that allows me to people-watch.

Song Lyric That Woke Me Up At 4:47 am

"And when I see you down, I want to pick you up /
I want to give you hope /
And remind you of the best of times."

-- Sara Hickman

Embers

Marty had the unfortunate job of telling me that one of our former favorite haunts has burned to the ground.

Sol's Taco Lounge in Deep Ellum was a place where Marty and I would go get the best fajitas in the Metroplex. It was this long and narrow restaurant that maybe had room for 120 people, and was just this funky little Tex-Mex joint that we stumbled upon by accident. The reason we liked it so damned much was that every time they made fajitas, they would have to take the platter outside, because the smoke from the sizzling slabs of meat or poultry would fill the whole dining area otherwise.

After we found the place, I would bring first dates there, ignoring completely the unwritten law that you never take a first date to a Mexican restaurant, since the potential for making a mess is great. The atmosphere at Sol's overpowered that. The first lunch I had with my AnywhereYouGo.com editor, Stacey, was at Sol's, since the place was right around the corner from our offices. I absolutely loved that place.

After moving to Fort Worth, I went quite infrequently over the last few years, and it has been at least a year since I was in Sol's. The news that the restaurant is now gone is no less painful, though. The owners, according to Marty, have no plans to rebuild, focusing their attention on their Addison location (which I viewed as an abomination).

There's something to be said about the impermanence of the whole thing, but it just bums me out too much to think about it.

Dan Quayle Would Misspell It Anyway

Just popped a new journal exclusively for movie reviews and whatnot on Rotten Tomatoes. The first entry is here. Enjoy.

Almost Overheard

This morning, like any other lately, started with me stumbling into the office and beginning work on DallasBaseballHome's front page. Marty and I exchanged pleasantries, and he said something to me. I should have written the set-up down, but my punch line, which I clearly remember, was:

"What, do I look like Bill Parcells to you?"

Damn, I need coffee. This happened less than an hour ago, and I'm already drawing a blank. My brain set the "memory marker" too late.

The feedback from shaving the goatee is overwhelmingly positive from everyone... except myself. I think it makes my face look fat, and my mouth doesn't work right. I usually tried to shave it down once a year, but research shows it has been at least three years, and possibly four, since I've been clean-shaven.

Less than a month before Devinukah 2004, and I have no idea what I'm going to be doing. It's in Marty's hands, and out of mine. As long as I'm with my friends, it doesn't matter what I do, but I fear it involves ski masks, abduction, and other related things.

Let's Make It Smooooth!

Every now and then, I like to shave off the goatee and regrow it. The ends feel better, the skin underneath it needs to see the light of day, and it's a rare opportunity to shock the bejeezus out of everyone. I, personally, think it makes me look like Donny Osmond, but people seem to like it this go-round. We'll see how long I keep it this way.

Lower!

Creed sucks sucked.

Okay, I stole the headline from FARK, but really, I hated Creed.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Driving along last night, going home after my Wednesday gig at Bronco's, and I hit... something. I have no idea what. What I do know is that three of my four tires are now flat, and I absolutely lost my mind once I got the car into a parking lot. A friend found me walking in the rain along a well-traveled road and brought me home (thanks so much, Jer). I would have called for assistance, but my phone was dead.

A lot of things have happened over the last couple of weeks that I should have written about, but simply didn't have the time. For example:

While at Whataburger getting breakfast last week, the manager behind the counter asked how I was doing. "I'm doing well, thanks," I responded, and gave him my order. After keying it in and giving me my change, he said, "You're not from Texas, are you?" I replied, "I am, but have moved around a lot. Why do you ask?"

"Because no one in Texas knows that 'well' is an adverb."

I laughed all the way home.

See? That was a good anecdote. Not at all something that leads anyone to think I'm losing my grip on things.

But I am.