What next?

Strange days lately. I realized that I've pretty much accomplished my major goals in life. I have Wife. I have Dog and Cat. I have my scooter and a pretty decent car. We have the house. I have a job I love (except that it could pay a little better) that allows me to occasionally travel. Pretty sweet. Other than seeing more of the world before I die and buying more toys and tattoos, those are what I've wanted to do and more.

Kind of left with a sense of "now what?" I mean, besides enjoy it of course.

It is kind of a strange feeling. A little restless. And really, what else is there?

More travel? Sure but no rush.

More pets? That's a maybe but Cat is getting older and we really don't want to stress him out with new additions that disrupt his well being.

Kids? Hell no, not even if they come with huge stipends and an army of paid for nannies.

Maybe I just need to get back to teaching next week and I'll be too busy to think about it.

Pictures of wrought iron

I put a bunch of New Orleans photos on my flickr if you want to check them out.

There's a link to my photos to the right.

Post-modern haiku: Tattoo

Yes, of course it hurts

The needle digs and skin bleeds

And soon it will itch

Is there anybody out there?

I've been spending a lot of time alone and outside of my normal routines lately due to various traveling. It has been a strange experience.

Wife went on a family visit. Then I had business travel as I've mentioned. Then Wife had business travel. During my business travel I managed to catch up with an old friend and tried to make some new ones (jury is still out on that).

School hasn't resumed and I managed to hit a perfect storm of finishing my book, latest video game, and netflix a day before Wife got home. Plus no good TV. Nice stir crazy affect. I could have contacted some locals to hang out. But I couldn't think of anything last minute I wanted to do in order to decide who to even bother to try to get together with. I'll confess some of it was pure laziness on my part. Inertia is a bitch.

But I'm also just plain weird when it comes to socializing. I'm not very good at it, except for those times when I am. I'm so hot and cold at it. I hate making small talk. I love meeting new people. Except when it comes to talking to them. I made some very intense connections to people in college and after that I almost never talk to anymore.

I moved too many times to put down strong enough roots to feel connected. And that is where I've really screwed myself. Cause I just don't feel like starting over again making new friends here. "Oh, you've all got pretty satisfying social lives? Cool. You change your mind, you let me know."

So many people I've let get away. I miss you all. Drop me a line some time. I hope you're all happy.

But I'd prefer if you'd all move here.

---

School starts in two weeks. I promise I'll be less maudlin then.

Pimping my wife

Wife has a side business making hoola hoops. She got a nice write up in the weekly city paper.

I'm just so excited and happy for her. I have nothing snarky to add.

I know what it means to leave New Orleans

Just got back from a conference in New Orleans.

It was a strange mix of work, fun, and self-analysis. I guess it is only fitting in a town with NO's reputation. When I first thought about writing it up, I thought about doing some sort of diary entry, spelling out the day and what occurred of note. That almost seems too traditional and mundane to cover it.

Some highlights though:

I caught up with a friend from high school days. How do you overcome two decades of time? Amazingly enough I like to think we might have succeeded. Time will tell on that but I also feel I put to bed some of my lingering issues from then. I also learned just how much goes on that one is oblivious to knowing. We think we know most of the picture. Some times we have the equivalent to a snap shot and a piece of twine. Clues that we think tell a story but turn out to be far short. I also had the best cup of coffee I've ever drank.

My life never stops being surprising or entertaining. I saw a horse cop ride half way in to a karaoke bar and dance on the back of his mount to a hip hop song (yes, I and several of my friends sang at the bar. No, I was not the person on stage at that moment). I got to witness part of the New Orleans Red Dress Run, an excuse to drink and for many participants to cross dress. Just now I remembered that I saw two tranny hookers. At 1:30 on a Saturday afternoon. I had someone explain to me and a friend in much more detail than was called for the details of his heart attack.

I had several of the nicest meals of my life. In case you were wondering, haute cuisine appears to be about reducing food down to its essence flavors. A feast for the senses. Very indulgent. I highly recommend it. But at the same time there is something analytical about it. The experience gets in the way of the nourishment. Comfort may not be a transcendent experience but it sticks to your ribs. Some times we feed our body. Some times we feed our soul. Haute cuisine falls somewhere between those two poles. I'm glad I got to do it.

Actual conversation (slightly paraphrased) that happened to me on the streets while I was taking a photo:
Strange woman who may or may not have been hitting on me: "Can you answer a question for me?"
Me as I realize she is not going to walk into my shot so I can take it: "I can try."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Why are guys such douchebags?"
Me: "Testosterone."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Really?"
Me: "Yes."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "That's it?"
Me: "Yes."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "How do you get them to stop being douche bags?"
Me: "Hurt them."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Wha?"
Me: "You've got to hurt them in such a way that makes them realize how much they are hurting other people."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Oh. That won't work. He's always going to be a douchebag.....Oh no. Oh no! OH NO! OH NO! Someone is calling me a douchebag!"
At that point she ran down the street to have a half shouted conversation with someone she had seen walking towards us. And of course she was drunk. It was after noon. But her title was long enough.

By the time I left I was nearly crushed by the longing to see Wife again. We had been apart for over a week due to overlapping trips. Suck ass to a painful degree.

I also must say thank you to B.S. for being there.

And to E. and N. for new experiences and hopefully new friendships. And for making me feel welcome with the cool kids. I have no idea if either of you will ever read this. But if you do, I'd just like to say: "Porn."

It seems the most appropriate way to summarize the trip.

This has no right to be this awesome.

The whole mash-up idea has a certain level of fascination for me. In its most primitive versions it is very rough, little more than replacing the chorus of one song with a much different song that almost, but not quite, fits.

But at its finest, it shows great talent and vision to see how two songs that don't go together actually belong that way. Yes, DJs have been mixing songs together for years. But the fusing that a good or great mash-up shows, perhaps better than anything, the true power in the hands of the average fan in the digital age. The ability to take something so pop (or pap as the case may be) and make it this compelling:

What else is the Internet for?

Ho ho huh?

I promised this one a little while back and it is time.

I've posted before about Wife and I eating at cheap Chinese buffet but it is too late for me to go look for it in the archives. You can look for it if you want but to summarize, it has quite a colorful clientele. But even when you expect weirdness, every once in a while the world reminds you that there is still more strange out there.

Last time we ate there I look up and see two or three portly gentlemen with white hair and long beards. "Ha ha" I chuckle (or something like that. The gist is I laughed. Or LOLed for those of you "tech" people). "You're missing the Santa Claus parade." Wife asks, "Oh?" Or words to that affect. Some sort of brief query like noise or statement. "Yep, there's a dude or two that looks like Santa that just walked in."

And I return my attention to my assorted pieces of MSG conveyance. And I glance up again to see a couple more white haired fat dudes. "Uhm, honey. Seriously. There's a parade of Santas." She seems at best mildly interested, concentrating on her crab legs.

I soon realize that they continue to trickle in. I quickly convince Wife that she should look up because they just keep coming. Several are entertaining local kids. At least one is passing out tiny plastic "toys". We lost count around 30. It was, in fact, a Santa convention.

Later in the parking lot, every other car had a bumper sticker reading "My other car is a sleigh."

So maybe that's the secret. There are over 30 Santas, enough for one per time zone plus a few back-ups. And when they laugh their bellies shake like a bowl full of kung pow chicken.

Buy Sam a drink and get his dog one too!

If you don't recognize, you better do a search for Mike Lange.

Penguins win Lord Stanley's Cup!

Worship the Beard!

I was so nervous I couldn't bring myself to watch the game except to monitor the score online and through various other means. I turned it on literally two seconds after it ended. I'm a bad sports fan when I really care about it and find it best to watch alone or with other die hard fans. When it is just me and Wife, I quickly become a nuisance an a pain in the ass to be around. So since we were hanging out tonight, we watched other programming.

Not my fault

The move is done. Now comes the unpacking.

But we won't have home computer till Friday at least. So I have a great story to tell but no time to write it out at work. This weekend I will share. And you will be dumbfounded.