Getting All Your Balls in a Row

Hypomania and its downside

2008-01-31T10:55:00.000-06:00

Due to overwhelming grassroots support I have decided to answer the call of the public and post something on my “fuggin” blog.

Ah, yes, the last posts caught me in the midst of a new-job-induced hypomanic condition. This mild mania phenomenon has followed me throughout my working life. Even my first week of bussing tables found me thinking of how good the money was and how great it was to drink unlimited cokes and stare at hot waitresses and patrons. At that time, I truly minimized the demoralizing aspects of the job, such as picking up people’s snot-filled napkins, half-chewed foodbits and god-knows what else. It didn’t bother me so much that I reached into a liquid and food-filled busspan to retrieve sharp objects like knives and forks that had been used by people that may or may not have had communicable diseases. I was making good money(probably $12/hr on average) for that time and didn’t have to do any thinking. Back in the day, it was important for me avoid thinking at all costs. I focused my thinking energy on drugs, religious studies and theories of personality. In other words, total mental masturbation.

Ah, the college days.

But, like most mental states, the new-job induced hypomania is finite. It gives way to a more sober view. For instance, it is no longer so great that I have to drive 25 miles to work out in the hill country. Yes, the scenery is nice, but it is hard to look at when you have to dodge deer crossing the road. Also, the serenity of the 2-lane farmroad through the hills is hampered by always getting behind some giant pickup truck driven by some slowpoke with nowhere in particular to be.

The dirt/rock road to my actual office is pretty tough on the tires, so I’ve been walking. This hasn’t been so great during the colder days. In fact there was a good freeze a few weeks back that left me without water in my office toilet. After my last flush, I peed outside in the woods.

Yes, I pissed outside at work.

The terrain has not been forgiving after rain, either. For the past few weeks, the entire ranch has been one big mud-pit. So even though it’s been slightly entertaining wearing water-proof boots and camouflage rain gear to work in, it’s just not my scene.(Although who would have thought I’d actually use that camo stuff my mom got me years ago?)

The Shack(my office)

The cat that came with the shack in the back tracks in muddy paw prints and insists on jumping on my desk. My desk calendar has little chunks of mud from Smokey cleaning her paws on it. I like cats. And, sure, it was neat having an indoor/outdoor cat that came along with the job, but on low mental energy days I get tired of shooing away a muddy cat. Plus she meows at me and insists that I leave the faucet running for her to drink out of. I nipped that in the bud though. The cat can drink from a bowl just like any other animal. What, is she going to die unless there is moving water to drink out of? Bullshit.

Maybe I’m just being grumpy, but the little ‘charms’ that the job offered are instead just annoying me. Perhaps it’s because I glossed over the fact that the bulk of the actual job entails me doing the things I despised most about my last job. Throw in the fact that I am the one who is supposed to be organized when everyone else here is completely unorganized only adds to the frustration. As many know, I am not the type to rally others to order.

If I could just prolong that hypomania, if I could really be the guy I am during job interviews. I have had so many interviews the last few years, I have gotten quite good at talking the talk. Like a politician, I have gotten pretty adept at showcasing and highlighting some selling points, while not mentioning other things(like the fact that I have to build in goof-off time into a work day for sanity’s sake). In fact, after a panel-style interview last month, I felt like I had just hosted some town-hall meeting en-route to my presidential nomination. I was ‘ON’ for that and would compare it to being in the “Zone” that sports players get into when they are playing at optimal level. Those Theta brain waves were crashing around in my brain and I was making shit up at an alarming rate. And it was good shit, too. Totally off the top of my head.

I wonder if that’s how I got this job. My brain was ‘ON’ and chose not to directly deal with the real facts of the job, other than it was going to pay my bills sufficiently. Who knows.

I guess if I was always hypomanic, I would never change anything in my life. Hell, I might still be in Pine Bluff.

And that's a scary thought.

In Retrospect....

2007-11-14T21:43:00.000-06:00

Now that I am in Austin and getting settled, I can begin to look back on that weird transition time in Baton Rouge. There remains too little temporal distance to really reflect on what was going for those months while I lived with my in-laws. But at least now I can allow myself to post some of the pictures from that month-long period when I was a laborer on a construction site.

For the first week, we had to get there at 6am. With the 45 minute commute factored in, I had to get up at 4:30 am to get there on time. I would drive in darkness across the Mississippi River into Port Allen and then proceed along the highway-lined river south to Plaquemine. On the way, I would pass casino truck stops and these chemical plants that looked like little cities:
One of those plants is Dow Chemical. According to the billboards, Dow is doing wonderful things for Louisiana. I suppose that the Nicaraguans were not so lucky.

Anyway, I'd get to the work site and the superintendent(boss) would begin promptly at 6am. One day after we had begun the set-up, the asshole left to go run some errands or something. As you can imagine, that meant we didn't do dick. It was at times that these that I was instructed by J(remember J from an earlier post) to do nothing because that was the only rest you was gonna get.

Here are 'work' pictures that I snapped:

It was obvious that I was extremely well respected at the site:

Strangely enough, my body did adjust to the physical strain and I'm sure that it helped build up enough muscles to where the furniture moving last weekend really didn't kick my ass too bad. However, my mind never really adjusted to the labor. I hated every minute of the work and dreaded it most of the time that I wasn't there. Holy fuck do I have a new-found respect for people who do that for a living. It takes some grit that apparently I do not have, or more likely, grit that I do not have to have. If that makes sense.

Or, fuck, maybe I just can't use a hammer worth a shit.

Nevertheless, I did get a chance to wear work boots and almost hoot from a construction site at women.
The end.

New Apartment

2007-11-09T17:38:00.001-06:00

No more fucking hotel room. Although, I will miss the ice machine.

Today is day 2 of the new apartment. The cable guy came by. Hello high-speed cable internet. Yes.

Updates to follow.

Live Blogging from Bed, II

2007-11-06T09:39:00.000-06:00

The last post was more of a warm-up for this one. In fact, some may wonder why I am in bed to begin with and why I am in a semi-crappy hotel with a name like America's Best Value Inn? Shouldn't I be working or something, or looking for a job or something?

Well, a strange thing happened. Last week was temp hunting week. I expected to stroll into a temporary staffing service, whip out out my Masters Degree, flop it on the placement manager's desk and immediately receive a job at a decent post with a respectable hourly rate. Much to my surprise, that did not happen and I was forced to slum around Austin, jumping from wi-fi hotspot to hotspot. Most bars and coffee shops offer free service, some even offer a free secure server to log into. Pretty nice of them.

I sent out a shitload of applications and resumes last Thursday, even applying to stuff on Craigslist. I had begun to use an Austin address and felt that perhaps it was the missing component to my job searching. I was wringing hope out of whatever I could find, basically. Drinking with friends later that night, I was informed that I had an inside connection to get hired at Starbucks.

Yes, things were looking pretty grim overall. My hope, however, enabled me to concentrate on other more important things like a 3-d Imax movie on Friday and LSU football(link not SFW) on Saturday. It was an un-fucking-believable football game. We had found a bar in Austin that has a special LSU room in the back that hosts LSU football every Saturday. Pretty neat. It was quite a raucous event. Lots of hooting and hollering and drinking. I drank a shitload of beer. It was enough booze and excitement to distract me from what was becoming an uncomfortable overall situation.

It's not that we were on the verge of starvation, but goddamn, I'm in a fucking hotel room and I've been looking for a job in my field since JULY. Fucking JULY! So, for 4 fucking months, nothing. Only one crummy interview to show for the whole thing. Mentally, I was beginning to re-experience the job hunting days when all I had was my bachelor's degree and restaurant experience. Sure with a degree, I could have gotten on some manger-track at any number of retail and food outlets like Fred's, Dollar General, Starbucks, Taco Bell, Blockbuster, etc. And not to knock anyone who chooses one of those paths. Livable wages, benefits, free movie rentals or coffee, retirement packages etc. It ain't the end of the world. I'm just saying that I'd probably jump off a tall building if that was my fate.

These ideas were circling in my head on Sunday. Plus, I was feeling the aftereffects of all the beer. After casually checking my email I noticed that one of my craigslist postings had written back. So I called the lady and she told me to come out to Driftwood, TX for an interview.

This was pretty good news, but I was not going to let myself get too excited over just my second interview. Still, I was optimistic. It was way the fuck in Driftwood, which is about 20 miles southwest of Austin. The commute, though, was an estimated 30 minutes. With the way traffic is around Austin, if I had gotten a job 5 miles north of our apartment, it would have taken 30 minute to get to it. So, the distance wasn't going to be a deal breaker.

I drove out for the Monday morning interview. The major highway slimmed down to a 2-lane road with traffic lights here and there and began to notice some spectacular views off to the sides as I drove into the official Hill Country of Texas. I started to think that this wouldn't be so bad a place to work. I meandered around a little po dunk highway and turned off and found the interview site which was a converted ranch. I drove up and parked. I was early so I sat and soaked in sights of the surrounding beautiful land.

I'll spare you the details and the negotiations and what not, and just say that they offered me the job on the spot. I talked it over with the wife and called them back and accepted it. The money is right and the job itself, while slightly removed from what I was doing in Baltimore, is in my field and will teach me about counseling a population I am unfamiliar with. So CHEERS, YIPPIE YAY, YES YES YES, and HALLEFUCKINGLUJAH!!!!!!!THANK THE LARD, the job hunt is finally OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!AND THE JOB ISN'T SHITTY!!!!(except for the manure)!!!!!!

To get to my office, I have to drive on a dirt road past horses and a pasture. My window is facing a field with trees in the distance and 90% of the time I will have the office all to myself. Before I accepted the offer I was thinking that it was just too fucking cool, that there has to be a catch, that maybe I was just a little manic now thinking that things might work out. But even after accepting, I'm still thinking that working out in the Texas Hill Country is going to be really fucking cool.

I'm so happy that I've dedicated today Total Laziness in Bed Day, hence the"Live Blogging from Bed." I'll go in tomorrow for a meeting, but won't start until Monday. We start moving into the apartment on Thursday. So, today is the last real fuck-off day for me until I don't know when. So I am doing nothing to the extent of my do-nothing powers. My ass has left this hotel room twice today: to get ice and to get a Texas-shaped belgian waffle.

Fuck Yeah!

Live Blogging from Bed

2007-11-06T08:28:00.000-06:00

This is my eagerly anticipated first dispatch from Austin. I am writing to you now from the comforts of the America's Best Value Inn, a dingy place that has wi-fi and excellent ice. They also have belgian waffles in the shape of Texas. You can't beat that.

This whole TEXAS thing is still going to take some getting used to. The country music redneck on the tv commerical said that Texans are tough just like Ford trucks. Also, we have this lovely fast-food place, the Dairy Queen, that serves chicken fried steak fingers because Texans deserves the best. And on and on.

Last week when we arrived, my goal was to find some kind of temporary office job. I looked up a few staffing places and had some interviews. The tempjob interviews are where I think I perform my best. No stress/pressure and nothing really to loose. At one place I had this smoking hot, "placement manager' chick interviewing me. She was maybe 25, dark hair, maybe some native american mixed in there, petite with a little cleavage poking up out of the business suit. It was utterly distracting. She had an expensive haircut. But one strand kept falling out of place onto her face. She kept fixing her hair the whole time, like after every sentence or two. So then I started fidgeting with my hair just out of reflex. I kept her talking by way of nodding and smiling at appropriate places, and looking intense and inquisitive at others. At no other time can I remember having been so consumed with lust while carrying on an interview. She gave me her card and told me to call in to check for an opening or to call the receptionist(who was hot, too). I couldn't turn away from the flash of sexual imagery involving those two, so I blushed a little and said thank you to them and went on my way.

They obviously picked up on something. Maybe it was the tent I was pitching in my pants or the eye-contact that ventured into creepy land. Who knows, but I have yet to hear from them. It's apparently a woman-owned company, so maybe they screen out buffoons like me and assist others who don't ogle their staff so. A female friend of mine says they send her email about jobs all of the time.

Well, shit on them I say. I don't need your stinking temp job anyway.

Stay tuned for more ABVI dispatches!

Make Good Money, $5 a Day

2007-10-27T19:23:00.000-05:00

I know that my loyal readers are in withdrawal and I do apologize for the lack of posting. It's just that I haven't found my most recent position of construction laborer too inspiring. I have had the pleasure of being the low man on the totem pole at the Iberville Parish Veterans Memorial work site.[check out page 3 of the pdf link for some pictures] This has meant an incredible amount of back-breaking, knuckle-bruising work for your ole blogging buddy.

We've been forming up concrete walls. I helped to build the forms and pour the concrete. Also, there was shit work like re-arranging a pile of 2x4's, 2x6's and 2x8's. I got to hammer some nails and use a maul(i.e., sledgehammer) to drive in stakes. I got to shovel dirt, tie rebar and dig a hole to find a sewer pipe. I worked for a real cock-biter of a superintendent who some referred to as a wind-up asshole. Like some machine, he never seemed to really stop working and he expected that out of everyone else including me. It didn't matter that what I was doing was of no immediate consequence. I still had to do it efficiently.

I shadowed a guy who I'll refer to as "J." He struck me as a cliche of a 48-year-old southern black man: " Yes suh. Shoo, I jus gon keep right on sittin' here 'til he(the boss) come back, cause you ain' gon git no break with him around. Naw suh, don't let him see you not workin'." He took me under his wing and we did all kinds of fun, backbreaking shit with him instructing me on how to look busy.

The first thing he told me about was 'The Show Stopper.' Apparently, there was an extremely attractive woman who worked nearby and basically shut down the entire work-site every time she walked by. He told me to keep an eye out for her. I did not catch a good look at her until the next-to-last day. I was signaled and got an eye full. There was a discreet form of communication between workers when women walked by. It consisting of making some sort of animal calling noise. This was to avoid calling out someone's name and thus alerting the bossman. The Show Stopper was indeed incredibly voluptuous. Round in all the right spots. I resisted the urge to hoot at her. But it was tough.

The work was hard. We were to report at 6am and leave at 2:30p. Break was from 9 to 9:10. You weren't told about break by the boss, you just had to keep an eye on the time or the other workers. Lunch was from 12 to 12:30. You weren't told about that time-frame either. You were informed, however, if you returned from break 20 seconds after the others. The wind-up asshole wasn't too fond of me. Then again he wasn't fond of anyone. I spent hours daydreaming of cussing him out, complete with tensions escalating to physical confrontation. I kicked his ass every time.

I worked there off and on for 3 weeks, but it felt like forever. In Baltimore, I would pass the construction workers going to work and idealize them being outside and doing 'honest' physical work. Well, that idea has been revealed as just that, an idea. The experience of outdoor labor everyday for not much money sucks. And I lucked up with excellent October weather. I couldn't even imagine how shitty it would have been to be there in 90-degree temp with Louisiana humidity.

So, hopefully that will be the last of my labor crap for a while. Now begins the next phase of my professional life: office temp. On Monday and Tuesday, I will interview for some temp agencies for placement in Austin. So, who fucking knows what is next.

Yippie yay!

Slacking, sorry

2007-10-15T16:00:00.000-05:00

Sorry about the lack of posts, but I've been occupied by work stuff.

Despite my failure to get work at the day labor place, I kept hope alive. I went back on Monday the 7th and was selected to work with a few others to help set up a booth at the Baton Rouge River Center, which is basically their convention center. The booth was being set up for Hollidays, some holiday -themed shopathon for women hoping to buy nic nacks and doo dads for christmas and beyond. The booth we set up was stocked with lotions, creams and beauty products for anything from dry hands to varicose veins.

The women we were helping were from Pensacola, FL and had a trailer full of shit to unload and set-up. I was skeptical that there was enough for 3 of us laborers to do. The other two was a redneck couple, guy and girl, in their early 20's I guess. They probably picked us because we were white. Wouldn't want any of the 'darker complection' scaring the white vendors and middle-aged women meticulously decorating Christmas trees. Our particular booth was on a red-themed corridor. I heard the women saying they wanted more red on the trees, they looked so good last year.

The work proved to be ample as we schlepped a goddamned shit-ton of lotions and giant shelves and tables. The boss assured us that our booth was among the best decorated. The woman in charge of the operation was a 40's-ish blond who was very particular about how we unloaded and set up. The other two laborers took this as condescension and set to taking sarcastic tones with her and muttering hostile whispers under their breaths.

The day went slowly as we conducted the rest of the tedious setup. Besides the mind-numbing nature of what we were doing, it was the pay that kept pecking away at my temper. Minimum fucking wage, $6.00 per hour. Not that what I was doing was sophisticated or actually deserved much more than that. But still, at the end of the 7.25 hr day, I had made $40. I have walked by a bar and spent that much before.

We were pretty tired, and they were exasperated, so we ended up leaving early. I figured the lost $4 was worth my piece of mind. I was elected spokesman to break the news to the Type A boss lady that we were done. She raised her eyebrows when I made the case that we were fine with leaving early. However, she recovered and said that was fine. We left and I picked up my check at the Labor Finder office.

During the work day I had gotten a call from the father of a friend of mine. The dad works at a construction company and he had called to say that he had some work for me. I called him when I got home and he told me of a construction labor job he had for me that would pay at least $10/hour. I thanked him and said I would see him tomorrow to sign the papers and take the drug test.

To be continued...

Work work work

2007-10-10T16:04:00.001-05:00

When we first came down, I had put out some temporary office work feelers. This involved filling out about a dozen online temp worker things for the BR area. To this day I have not received any leads from that. I had done some work with a friend of mine, but after he didn't return my calls for 2 weeks when he owed me money for a job, I decided to not pursue further professional entanglements with him.

However, the need for money hasn't really been a big issue. As you may know I have been living rent-free and somewhat expense-free for a while now. Besides the occasional work, I've kept busy running errands, playing Madden and honing my Wii Sports skills. I'm Pro Level at tennis, bowling and golf. Hells yeah!

But, the wife says those days are over because we need money. That means plan B for jobs.

I am still looking for jobs in Austin and will be moving there within a month. But I need something now. My BR jobs prospects are limited: I don't want to screw over any managers by taking an opening, then scuttling off. I know the hell it is to be understaffed because of flaky employees. So I cruised the classifieds and the only ad that really seemed to fit my situation was the ad that read: LABOR FINDERS, daily labor daily pay, wear work boots and bring 2 forms of ID. Daily pay. 5474 North Blvd.

Of course there were no numbers or office hours listed, so I looked them up on the internets and was able to find a number for the office. I called and the guy that answered growled that they had lots of work and that I should get there at 5:30am. So last Friday, with all other employment options exhausted, I found my way to Labor Finders.

I rolled up there at 5:25a with jeans, work boots and a bandana in my pocket. People were strewn about outside, some sleeping on the sidewalk, others pacing back and forth. The demographics closely matched those of the people I counseled in Bawlmer. For most, their appearances were the same, too. They wore torn and stained shirts and pants. Some reeked of alcohol and all smelled of stale cigarettes and unwashed clothes. Mostly were over 40 and worn down by god knows what. I swear the back of one man's neck looked and moved like leather.

As soon as the guy arrived and opened the doors, we all shuffled in and formed a line to sign in. After signing in, the first guy dutifully turned on the tv mounted on the wall. The local dinky-ass morning show was on. Apparently there was amassed at Tiger Stadium 1,000 fans at some predawn party for the CBS nationally syndicated morning show. After signing in, the men sat around and stared and shared stories. One guy was really yapping on and on about the work he had done that week and how it was good that he had worked 4 days straight and that it may rain today and did you have a cigarette and so forth.

I went to work filling out my application. I thought it odd that they asked for my educational background. I circled the 4 by Years of College for it was the maximum education level on the paper. I finished it and turned it in, then sat and watched tv. The book I brought to read stayed in the car. I didn't want the others to think I was some pussy and beat me up.

I sat and sat and smelled the room. Periodically, the manager guy behind the plexiglass would grunt and growl people's names. His voice really was shot. (Think contemporary Bob Dylan, but worse) The louder he yelled, the more incomprehensible it was. He primarily communicated work availably work by pounding on the glass to get everyone's attention. Then he'd point at the lucky worker-to-be.

Hours went by and my name wasn't picked. At about 8:30a I left and ate a steak, egg and tater-tot wrap from Jack in the Box. It was ridiculous and probably constituted 2000 calories, but I figured I needed that for a day of labor.

I returned to the office and waited. The crowd had thinned out considerably since sunrise. It was just me and a few others, including the guy that was carrying on and on about all the work he had been doing recently. He sat slumped over a table and slept on his arm. I figured it was safe enough now to read my book, especially since the alternative was to watch Martha Stewart.

Yes, the Martha Stewart Show was on and none of the laborers got up to change the channel.

At about 10a, the manager guy kicked everyone out and told us to try back tomorrow. He informed me that it sometimes took a few days for him to find work for everyone, but that he'd take care of me and that I should come in tomorrow. I said okay knowing full well that I was going to be tailgating all day and that there wasn't a chance in hell I'd come in at 5:30 on a fucking Saturday anyway.

I returned to the pad, able to comfortably play video games and drink beer having made a legitimate try for work.

The end.

L-S-U, L-S-U, L-S-U, L-S-U, L-S-U!!!!

2007-10-07T12:10:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, the wifey and I decided to head down to the LSU campus for some tailgating. Along with an ice-chest, chairs and a bottle of Jack, I brought a camera to help capture some of the mayhem of the LSU vs Florida pre-game.

As you may know by now, LSU won 28-24. It was an awesome game. For in-depth comments on the game itself you may go here and here. We watched the game at a nearby bar as we didn't have hundreds of dollars to spare on tickets. But we did wade into the tailgating fray, and that's what this little post is about.

We arrived on campus after waiting in about 35 minutes of traffic. We walked along a relatively calm Highland Rd schlepping our cooler, chairs and booze. The sidewalks were full of purple and gold, but the car traffic on the street was at a trickle. As soon as we got onto campus, we loaded up our no hands koozies and set off to meet up with our associates.

They had set up at 8:30 that morning and were hitting their stride when we meet up with them at about 1pm. We got there just in time to enjoy the grilled gator shish kabobs. They were pretty friggin good. There were multiple grills set up and we feasted on chicken wings, ribs, and andouille, not to mention all of the potato salad and other concoctions.

We were set up pretty close to the stadium and strategically close to a building that I used to take Spanish classes in. They were nice enough to leave the building open and let people use the bathrooms. Otherwise it could have gotten ugly.

I was sitting back with a beer and cleaning the bbq off my hands when I noticed what looked like a coffin under the tent next to ours. Upon closer inspection, it was a coffin!!

But not just any coffin. This coffin was fully stocked.

I was so impressed with the whole coffin thing that I decided to walk around the tailgaiting festivities to see what else was in store. I was not disappointed. Apparently some Tiger fans had acquired a stuff Gator toy or something. Check it out:

I knew something was about to go down when the giant guy with the ice-chest started stomping on it. Luckily I was quick enough to capture the essence of Tiger tailgating. Other pictures help to document this as well. I guess sometimes it comes down to people being able to transport their living rooms to campus.

At approximately 5p, we started breaking down the tailgating area in order to watch Mike the Tiger and the Tiger Band enter the stadium. We jostled and pushed and climbed a fence in order to get close enough to get these crowd pics.

The LSU Golden Girls are hot.
Even the people in the stadium were looking at the entrance festivities.

We were all sardined along the street, but I put the wifey on top of the ice-chest and she got a shot of Mike the Tiger pacing about in his cage. Poor thing was probably terrified from all the screaming and hollering.

So, shortly following the entrance we retired to our watching spot while everyone else, or at least 92,000 went to the game and watched LSU go 5 for 5 on 4th-down conversions and beat Florida with a 4th quarter comeback. Awesome fucking game.

The end.

Suckers with Jobs

2007-10-05T17:45:00.000-05:00

Just in case no one heard, my wife got a job in Austin.

And even though it's been fun farting and blaming it on her 88 yr-old grandfather, I suppose it's time for us to move.

It is unclear when exactly the move will occur, but as usual I'll keep you posted.

Man vs Nature, continued

2007-10-05T15:45:00.000-05:00

I was on the back porch with my father-in-law the other day. We were sitting on patio furniture, drinking some beers after finishing putting on yet another caliper. Apparently the rebuilt caliper from O'Reilly wasn't worth a damn. Pretty scary since it's defectiveness led to a dramatic loss of brake fluid. Nothing like trying to stop and mashing the pedal all the way to the floor before beginning to slow down. So it was in the sense of righting a wrong and avoiding a major calamity that he drank a Coors Lite and I drank a Miller High Life-Lite.

Kicking back beers, we looked out at the back yard and noticed a squirrel running up the trunk of the large oak tree. I remarked that our dog Bird probably wishes she could climb trees. In the hopes of catching a squirrel, she bolts out of the door in a dead run every time we let her out. My father-in-law(we'll call him 'D') remarked, "I've got something that can climb trees." I didn't quite catch on and said something to the effect that perhaps our old cat could climb up the tree after the squirrel.

At this he got up out of the chair and repeated that he had something that could go up there and get it. He walked over to the utility room and retrieved a .22 caliber rifle. He told me how he had special shells just for squirrels, I think he called them cv's or something. Anyway, he walked to the edge of the driveway and admitted that the neighbors to the right of the house would "freak out" if they saw him. The other neighbors wouldn't care, as Mr. B has reportedly shot a few himself.

While he was retrieving the rifle, the squirrel had jumped to the nearby pecan tree near the garden. D asked me to point out the critter for him, and I did. He approached the tree while holding the rifle down toward the ground with his right hand around the outside of the trigger and his left hand underneath the barrel. Moving into position, D was careful to use the carport to obscure him from the squirrel-loving neighbors' view.

D looked up and spotted the squirrel, then raised the rifle and shot. This happened in one fluid motion, taking about 2 seconds. Apparently the beauty of cv's is that they are very quiet shots. A "pop" not much louder than a BB gun rang out, and the squirrel jumped to another branch and ran frantically down the limb. Just as D declared that he had missed, the squirrel fell out of the tree and hit the ground with a soft thud.

In his thick Mississippi drawl, D. reflected, "Well. I guess I got 'im."

I walked over toward the still-twitching squirrel. It wasn't a head shot, but it was still a pretty damn good shot I thought. I said as much and it dawned on me that my father-in-law had just shot a live animal in the back yard with a rifle. The realization elicited a childish giggle, and maybe that was just because of the beer on an empty stomach.

He explained that he had shot about 15 in the last week since his wife had renewed his gun privileges. "If you walk out to the tree line where I've piled them, you'll definitely smell 'em," he confided. Also, he wanted the episode to remain a secret from my mother-in-law as she has explicitly forbidden firearm discharge in the backyard.

So, by posting this, I've threatened the Father/Son -in-law bond. But I figured the greater good was at stake and that a disservice to humanity would be done by remaining silent.

Cheers.

Sunday walks in Austin

2007-10-03T11:23:00.000-05:00

There will be a Man vs Nature update shortly, but I am making sure that by posting it I will not get my father-in-law in trouble. To be continued...

In other news, we made another little trip to Austin. Somebody other than me had a job interview. We hauled ass up(over) there on Sunday and stayed at a local poet's residence. That evening we ate curry chicken and drank Shiner Bock. It was a refined experience. One of the perks of Texas drinking is the proximity to the old Spoetzl Brewery. For instance, I got to drink their summer brew, Shiner Kolsch. It was quite tasty. We drank into the wee hours of the evening, discussing potential children's names. Options for boys(my last name not included): Dwayne Wade, Kevin Koenig, Royal Vincent, Robert Earl. Girls names: I can't really remember, but I think we agreed that Virginia was a nice name.

Monday was the interview. While that was going on, I dicked around town. I surprised a friend who manages a coffee shop and shot the shit with her. While she did inventory, I settled in with a coffee and muffin and lumbered some through Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy. It's a fucking wicked book so far. It gets a little slow sometimes as Cormac likes to get all literary and make these profound statements in ridiculously long sentences. But he is a bad-ass writer no doubt. This title is set in the mid 19th century and was written in 1985. For something more contemporary, check out The Road which won the Pulitzer prize for fiction.

I dined with the interviewee at the Roux in downtown. The place was largely empty, but it had a good feel to it. Food wasn't too bad. The po-boy was remarkably good for not being in Louisiana. We discussed the interview and overall she was guardedly optimistic. To me, being tentatively optimistic is impossible. I've found it to be an all-or-nothing type of thing. If hope does creep into your psyche, it's best to just run with it until it is spent. It's like getting a huge crush on a girl. You can't suddenly pretend that you don't like her and that it doesn't bother you that she's banging someone else.

After that we went on a whirlwind tour of Austin's malls and shopping areas looking for a birthday present for her mother. While she was doing that, I managed to find some new flip-flops. It's safe to say that the new footwear was the highlight of the trip for me. My new Tiva's are awesome. Highly recommended if you are in the search for comfortable leisure footwear.

Yes, of course it was great seeing the Austin people I hadn't seen in awhile. On Monday evening we met up with a Baton Rouge friend and her boyfriend and ate some good bbq at Hill's Cafe. It was fun hanging out with them despite the fact that there was a picture of George W. looking at us the whole time. We ate and drank, but we retired early because everyone had to do this stuff the next morning. I believe they called it work, or something. I don't know.

Anyway, we crashed out and slept as well as we could on the gradually deflating air mattress. It would fool us into comfort for the first hour. By the 4th hour, our asses were touching the floor. And when we were finally awoken at 8:00am by the gas-powered hedge-trimmer across the street, the only things not touching the ground were our heads( I suppose because they were lighter than the rest of our bodies.)

We dropped the poet at school and fueled up at the 7-Eleven. The hippy-looking guy tending the wide array of coffee informed us that he had been up since 4am. We nodded and responded with something. I guess my greasy-hair and beard endeared me to the guy since he only charged us for 1 bagel and coffee. I felt famous or special or something.

The trek back to BR was largely uneventful. Lots of traffic, road construction and horrible drivers. We stopped at a Dairy Queen in Welsh, LA and I witnessed some white-trash-looking woman yelling at her granddaughter and slapping her arm for reaching for crayons and knocking over a drink. In hindsight, I could have threatened to call the cops or something. But that could have slowed us down and put us in danger of hitting BR rush-hour traffic. We hightailed it out of there and didn't speak until we were safely out of Jefferson Davis Parish.

We did miss rush hour traffic. We unpacked the car and were comfortably lazing at the compound by 5:30pm.

The end.

Man vs Nature, Part 1

2007-09-27T17:17:00.000-05:00

Things are not well at the compound. I was informed several days ago that our house's integrity has been compromised!

To the right is Exhibit A of the violence being done to the house. Apparently, these vent pipe casings are attracting predators that are systematically destroying(eating) the roof's defenses against water assault. Reports indicate that only months ago close to $500 had been spent repairing several of them. Now, in a short time period, the invaders are back and wrecking more havoc.

A source familiar with the matter says that the culprits may in fact be living right under our noses, so to speak. Experts on the matter have weighed in to suggest that the varmints responsible for the destruction are none other than squirrels!

Meet the Enemy!

I will keep you posted on this ongoing conflict between man and nature.

Your moment of Zen with Pop and JB

2007-09-27T17:05:00.000-05:00

This was taken this morning. JB has these tumor-like objects around his asshole(the vet referred to them as parietal adinomas or something). He proposed that the best strategy to combat the excess of testosterone most probably causing the swelling was to neuter the dog. So today, JB got snipped. They were cuddling before the operation so I snapped this photo just in case he wouldn't make it through the anesthesia.

Update: JB is alive and well. But without nuts. Now we may need to get him some neuticals.

The Saturday of Despair and Redemption

2007-09-24T10:59:00.000-05:00

No, my "lame pussy ass", did not go to the LSU game. In fact I did what anyone should do when faced with family commitments: I got good and drunk the night before, so that I looked and felt my best for the grand clean-up.

The Abita Bar Crawl scene was packed. Downtown Baton Rouge has morphed apparently since I left. They now have 3 or 4 bars on 3rd Street that seem to have some excellent potential. We started at the Roux House to sign up for the $1 Abita beers. Walking up, we noticed that there was an obscenely long line at Happy's across the street. It turned out that the sign-up table was only at one bar rather than 2 as advertised. After some split-second critical thinking we decided that immediate gratification was better than waiting around for $1 Abitas. We quickly escaped the Abita crowd and walked a block down 3rd.

After a shot of Jack and a beer at Boudreaux & Thibodeaux's , we were ready to head back into the throng of people and meet up with our friend and her law-school associates who were now pondering the line situation. It was great seeing her and meeting her pals( they turned out to be pretty cool). They decided to ditch the abita thing, too. We then commenced with beers and carbombs after a wild goosechase for the illusive Thristy Tiger, a dive bar that was closed that night for renovation into an up-scale martini bar. Fucking gentrification.

Now it was not my intention to become shitfaced, but these things happen unintentionally when I let my mind go on it's version of autopilot. It's an interesting gear. And I would say it's somewhat mystical in that it focuses you on the present in a way that meditation should. No thought of tomorrow's ills, only the Now. Intense conversations, sincere promises and assertions. Bold proclamations that goddammit, maybe we should just go to New Orleans. Tonight!

We wound up on the balcony at Boudreaux & Thibodeaux's , and drank and talked until our law school contingent called it quits. After all, several of them had to get to their tailgating spots by 9am. So the night ended up taking us to a friend of ours' house in nearby Spanish Town. In retrospect, I realize that if I had stopped drinking then, everything would have been better. But at the time, a little wine and cheese seemed like a grand idea.

Getting back to our place at 3am was not the original plan, but hey, theses things happen. It's not like I lost millions of dollars in bribes.

So, Saturday morning was ugly. In fact while I was driving to Pop's old house, I was really wondering how in the world I was going to pull it together. How was I going to be lifting and moving stuff and cleaning in this state? I imagined just being propped up in the corner, shaking and looking at the ground while my in-laws cast alternating glances of pity and disgust at me.

But it was not to be. The cornbread that I choked down at the house started to work around the time that the Pepto-tablet/Ibuprophen cocktail kicked in. I got out of the car and went right to work. My condition was not 100%, but I was able-bodied. A victory for late night drunkeness!

We packed a lot of shit up. I rummaged through a utility room with rat and mice-eaten papers and found all kinds of nasty shit that I will not catalog here. Suffice to say that we got everything done in time for kickoff and went back to home-base. My brother-in-law had barbequed some brisket and pork, and by that time my appetite had returned.

So I kicked back in the recliner, porked out and watched tv as the LSU fans at the stadium got soaked by the remnants of the tropical depression.

The end.

Fuck: A Tropical Storm AND an LSU home game!

2007-09-21T17:28:00.002-05:00

As of now, Tropical Depression 10 is on a direct course to cause some rain issues for the LSU game(kickoff 2:30pm Saturday). Not that it fucking matters to me. I was gearing up for some hard-ass drinking. I mean some real boozing. The Tailgaters, close associates of mine, are going to get to their spot at 8:30am and start the festivities. Kelly(not her real name, but maybe) plans on bringing some breakfast wraps to munch on while she starts beer drinking. Although she admits that for such an early a start, maybe she should bring along some hard liquor for drinks. That's my girl.

I was all geared up for it, too. I was ready to set an alarm so that I could get to campus by 9-ish, sit in a lawn chair and begin to defile myself. I had even decided to take it easy for tonight's Abita Beer-sponsored bar crawl.

But no. Family responsibilities call. Tomorrow has been designated Clean-all-of-the-shit-out-of-my-grandfather-in-law's-house Day. The in-laws recently put his house up for sale and the closing for it is next week. Tomorrow, GameDay, is the only day that my father-in-law is available to run the Moving Truck Show. Since he has exclusive rights to any use of rental trucks in the household and cannot be absent when one is being rented, GameDay is when we will get a truck and haul away the big furniture stuff such as the frig, bedroom stuff, etc.

I put in a day of packing shit up and moving things around today. And I've been given the "it's okay if you go to the game, but I'm going to help with the move" talk by the wife. But I'm not buying that shit, I know where that leads.

I'm not by nature a guilt-ridden person, but it would probably ruin my buzz at the pregame. And, it looks like it will be raining the whole goddamned time. So I'll sit this one out and have to be content with hooting and hollering at a bar with a clear conscience.

Is this the best picture ever?

2007-09-21T16:49:00.001-05:00

You may cast your vote in the comments section.

Virginal Posting as inspired by the comment that any moron can have a blog

2007-09-20T17:08:00.000-05:00

This was a view from our bungalow thingee in Costa Rica. That dark blue stuff is the Pacific. We wondered if that stick dangling from the tree was going to drop while we were there. It didn't.