Still nobody believes me when I tell them I’ve just turned
40. Everyone guesses I'm younger than am, often by a decade. Dad thinks
it might be that I'm graying very slowly with a full head of hair. Or
it could be that I'm just immature.1
People formerly guessed I was older, until Miss KT and I attended a
B.B. King concert wherein King became background accompaniment instead
of the main attraction.2
He’d’ve smiled wryly had he known.
I said something in passing, and she exclaimed, "You graduated high school in 1988
I thought you were older!"3
Throughout, I haven’t felt any different than I did at 25. Although
I’m becoming so reactionary with age it’s a wonder I haven’t decried the
unfashionability of powdered wigs as an indicator of cultural decline.
Based on past conversations, I’ve lived more in 40 years than many
other people. But against my own expectations and ambitions, I’ve hardly
done anything at all. (Even a comprehensive list of the best cultural artifacts
of 1969 will have to wait.) For example, I’ve yet to write an issue with
prose and content simultaneously so dense, extreme, and obscurely allusive
that the very act of reading it induces a vortex that consumes the universe,
thereby ending existence itself. In the end was the word, and the word was
hyperlinked to a media file.4
At least that way you atheist types
get to skip the Parousia.5
Why'd I ever decide to become a writer,
? I should've pursued a more meaningful career … like corporate
The milestone has been an unwelcome occasion, because it’s encouraged
more introspection about my life and achievements, such as they are,
than I care to indulge nowadays. My life now certainly isn’t what I expected
back when I was 18. Then again, maybe I’ve kept my hair color because I’m
not supporting a family and a mortgage
Such was my mindset as I prepared to endure yet another bleak, disconnected
season of the “togetherness holidays
run from Thanksgiving through Valentine’s Day. They share the assumption,
understandably, that you’ll celebrate them with your loved ones, of one
category or another, and there’s something wrong with you if you don’t.7
As though personal flaws are the source of one’s wintertime woes, rather
than work schedules, transit timetables, weather conditions,8
garrison state security gauntlets,9
counterproductive social mores that will gradually destroy our entangled
civilization from within.10
To my pleasant surprise, the season didn’t quite happen that way.
Christmas, friends and relatives, including my sole surviving grandparent,
called throughout the day to wish me well.11
It was something
nice in the holiday spirit. My sister’s kids were ecstatic at my gifts.
I took care to nail down what they wanted; they’d been vague a couple of
months earlier, which I still don’t understand. When Sis and I were their
ages, we’d perused the Sears, JC Penny and
Montgomery Wards Christmas
catalogs like Talmudic scholars, written long, detailed wish lists, and
negotiated for the maximum.12
Otherwise, I consumed 36 CDs, 19 books, and three holiday TV specials
posted on YouTube. (Last year I saw as many movies online as I did in the theater
.) But the EPA declared
the partridge in a pear tree an endangered species.13
I went dancing a lot.
For my birthday, I dined at a bistro in midtown Austin heretofore unfamiliar
to me. But the real fun was the day after, at a little birthday soiree
for “Melanie Ordones Welker.” Inexplicably, she’s become one of the salseras
who has an unforced rapport with me off the dance floor.14
I danced and shamelessly flirted with her, in front of her boyfriend. I
didn’t care. I don’t think she did, either. “Enjoy your thirties while
you still have them,” I whispered cheek to cheek.
Prom of the Dead, and Other Excursions
The rest of my socializing during this period wasn’t quite as satisfactory.
There was a stretch during the holidays when the only social listings
in the Chronicle appeared to be for homosexuals. They come out of the closet
and next thing you know they’re out on the town.15
My dance partners all complained about the DJ’s song
selection at the weekly Austin Ballroom Dancers’ social at Uptown Dance
Studio. I didn’t recognize a lot of the particular tunes, but they sounded
like they were recorded in the ‘80s. That gave us too much a sense of our
I had a very Mr. Fusion day. I kept finding quarters
on the ground.16
The headliner at the Jazz at St. James concert demonstrated
why New York City is still the world’s jazz capital. The local Jeff Lofton
Quartet, which just released a fine CD, opened. That band sounded like
it was sticking to familiar patterns. Then the group settled in the front
row and intently observed an ad hoc quartet fronted by former Jazz Messenger
Javon Jackson. He said his day started with a flight from Portugal and looked
dead tired. However, the inventiveness and energy Jackson and his band mates
displayed was of a magnitude greater than the previous quartet.17
Dweezil Zappa performed his dad’s music at Stubb’s.
Local guitar slinger Eric Johnson showed up to jam, but he just ran through
his pet licks regardless of whether it fit the music. Clearly, Johnson was
shredding instead of listening to the other musicians. Otherwise, I had
no complaints about the music – but the audience! The smoke – semi-legal
and otherwise – kept wafting into my face. Ironic, given Frank Zappa’s consistent
opposition to recreational drugs, and given his death from cancer after
a lifetime of chain-smoking tobacco cigarettes. So I left after the first
The Chronicle reported the owner of Evitas Botanitas,
an independent Mexican restaurant in South Austin, was closing the restaurant
that month because of health problems. I was inspired to travel there
for lunch. It was worth the trip to a neighborhood that’s still largely
terra incognita after all these years.19
Welker told me about the Austin Social Club’s Christmas
mixer at the venerable Driskill Hotel downtown. We didn’t connect there,
but thanks to multiple mistakes, I attended, ate and drank for free. I
may have been the only one there who actually had a good time.20
While everyone else was sore at the short-handed staff, I spent much of
my time chatting up a math teacher. Teachers nowadays have sure improved
from my time in school. I’d’ve pursued my studies further at Red Fez, but
I had to get up and go to work the next morning.
Salsa dancing drew me to The HighBall, a new retro-décor
combination bowling alley/restaurant/bar/ballroom in the Lamar Plaza Shopping
Center off South Lamar Boulevard. The food is just average for the prices,
unfortunately contemporary. Of course, most of the customers, being
Austinites, couldn’t bother to look elegant, from 1960 or any era.21
The dancing was great, particularly with Welker, and I liked the hardwood
floor and ambiance better than Ruta Maya, but the latter venue starts an
After several hours at Go Dance, I swung by Gloria’s,
the newly opened Salvadoran restaurant at The Domain. The latter combined
the drawbacks of other places: The sound system was loud; the waiters and
barbacks were moving around the edges of the crowded non-wood dance floor.
Worst of all, the women were undercutting their own prospects by standing
around, drinks and cell phones in hand, avoiding eye contact and chatting
with each other incessantly. It really was like being downtown.23
However, the food is good.24
Jan. 5, the cold killed my car battery.25
I was two
hours late for work awaiting the AAA-approved service's replacement. I
thought I was having a bad morning until I saw what happened to my neighbors
in the next building. A vehicle from adjoining Gracy Farms Lane veered
off-road, plowed through the property fence into the mailboxes on the
side of a detached garage, and damaged their cars parked on the other side.
It's the second time I can recall that fence has been damaged.26
A new business is moving to The Domain, but the Austin City Council
had to OK a half-million dollars in incentives – on top of the state’s $1.5
million – for it to relocate from Maryland.27
Four other new
businesses have opened at The Domain, including Gloria’s.28
trendy new watering hole has opened in the Aloft hotel at The Domain. I
give the WXYZ Lounge a B-.29
Early winter thunderstorms revealed a leak somewhere outside my living
room window that dripped onto the windowsill. The landlord also re-roofed
the buildings on the southeast side of the apartment complex mid-November
and repaired a water valve for them mid-December.30
5, I discovered my building’s laundry room ceiling lampshade had shattered
on the floor.
On Nov. 8, I witnessed the aftermath of a collision between an SUV
and the end of an overpass guardrail along northbound MoPac Expressway.
Based on what little I saw, the guardrail lost. On Dec. 1, I witnessed
the aftermath of a smash-up on MoPac near the Duval Road overpass. On Dec.
2 and Jan. 18, I witnessed the aftermath of collisions at the northbound
frontage road of MoPac and Parmer Lane. On Dec. 7, I witnessed the aftermath
of a multi-car pileup on Gracy Farms just east of the railroad tracks.
On Jan. 25, KHHL-FM reported a collision at Metric Boulevard and Cedar
The Blockbuster video store at the McNeil Crossing Shopping Center
closed in December.31
Pizza Paradise has replaced La Mamma Pizza
at the Metric Place strip mall.
Weirdo’s has replaced Tut’s Bar & Grill
Austin Death Watch
The Austin City Council has approved the Heritage Tree Ordinance, which
ostensibly “aims to tighten restrictions on the cutting of very large, mature
trees,” but actually is a further infringement on private property rights.32
Earlier, we learned the drought endangered the salamanders at Barton
Now, the Daily Texan reports that recent flooding
endangers them, too.34
Why are we expected to care about an amphibian
that can’t even survive in its own natural habitat no matter what? The
Save Our Springs Alliance doesn’t have an answer to my question, because
it’s busy being ground up in bankruptcy legalities.35
‘em out and let’s be done with it. I mean the salamanders. Although the
other interpretation sounds pretty good, too.
The latter might stop the City Council from further considering a new
ordinance on energy inspections for new houses – a new ordinance the Home
Builders Association of Greater Austin says will add nearly a dollar per
square foot to the cost.36
This is the same Council that downsized
the annual Zilker Park Trail of Lights because of cost ($1 million) and took
flak. My favorite comment comes from a guest columnist in the Austin Community
College paper who writes, “The Council is completely at fault for ruining
the Trail of Lights simply because they took too long to find a private
vendor to run the site.... In order to keep the Trail of Lights an Austin
tradition, the Council needs to make smarter decisions in a timely manner.”37
If the Council could do that, Austin Death Watch
wouldn’t be a regular feature
in this Web zine
Austin Death Watch also relies heavily on the antics of Capital Metro
to remain a recurring feature. This issue, Cap Metro fired Veolia, the
rail contractor it hired to actually run the prolifigate, oft-delayed commuter
rail. Cap Metro also stopped paying on $51.1 million it owes the City.
Lawyers for all sides are hard at work.38
Dell, which started in Austin but moved to Round Rock for a better
business climate, has relocated its annual trade show to Las Vegas because
Austin doesn’t have the capacity to handle the event.39
I’ve been pointing this out for a while: Austin’s power elite fancies itself
as presiding over a world-class city, and tries
to shoehorn these events into downtown with less than stellar results
because the same elite also doesn’t want to be like such world-class rivals
as Houston, Dallas or Los Angeles, which at least have been consistent in
their willingness to bulldoze and pave their way to greatness, or least
making matters easier for event organizers.
In a related vein, the September GQ declared the University of Texas
to be among the 25 douchiest colleges in the country.40
Still, it does have a decent library selection.41
Two Austin cops have been arrested in two separate incidents by
their brothers in blue in Williamson County for drinking and drugging.42
Better them seeing the business end of a nightstick away from us instead
of being around to man a fusion center or shutting down a gun show.43
Texas for Accountable Government endorsed for the Libertarian gubernatorial
nominee the worst candidate of the four who appeared at TAG’s monthly
meeting at Bagpipes Pub on Jan. 25. She was some yokel-sounding shyster
broad from Houston who made Sarah Palin sound like a Mises Institute
scholar. Because of her ignorance, she managed to botch even an easy issue
like immigration, partly by speaking English worse than a Oxacan-born motel
maid. If I were forced to use her as a lawyer, I'd throw myself on the mercy
of the court.44
Except for Jeff Daiell, the others weren’t much better, and Daiell’s
hobbled by pinkoish views on the social issues and his disappointing results as the 2002 nominee
Fortunately for me, I attended for the Menckenian spectacle of an ideological
organization, now bereft of its ideology
to posture as a viable alternative to the statist quo. In that, at least,
I wasn’t disappointed. I’d tell these guys to go fuck themselves, but they’ve already been doing that for the last four
The only thing they’ve done successfully in that time.
They could teach NBC a few lessons.45
A month earlier, TAG meeting attendees kept trying to persuade me to
join them in taking over the Texas Republican Party with gubernatorial
candidate Debra Medina.46
The TAGers seem determined to repeat
every mistake and erroneous assumption about politics as the Freepers
. In fact, they reminded me why I dropped the GOP
before I was 21. But what
do I know? I've only studied, observed or participated in politics since
the late '70s, not memorized Rush Limbaugh's catchphrases.47
Medina has the problem of being an outsider in the same party as
the establishment, country club apparatchiks, who can sabotage her, her
campaign, or her agenda at any point between now and the last day of her
Unless she cooperates with them, thereby compromising
with the beneficiaries of the status quo.49
It's a lot of extra
fighting, hassle and expense for those of us wanting to roll back the
size and scope of the State. I suggested her partisans take over the Texas
LP's husk, use that party's ballot access, and avoid an early battle with
and Bushes. Naturally, they
listened about well as Eric Johnson.
Neo-Noir Meets Christian Reconstructionism, and Other Cultural Canapés
Theologian Gary North writes that actor Dennis Quaid is planning
a biopic of Spade Cooley, Western Swing bandleader and drunken white-trash
lowlife who served eight years in California prison for beating his wife
to death, then died of a heart attack.50
North apparently thinks
Cooley is more obscure than he is, because James Ellroy has referenced
Cooley in his oeuvre numerous times.51
However, Ain’t It Cool
News reported the same project in 2004, so the Parousia may happen before
A co-worker asked if I'd seen the disaster movie "2012." I said since
John Cusack stars in it, I knew it'd be a disaster flick no matter what
the subject. To make it realistically terrifying, you'd have Americans
enduring the abolition of the incandescent light bulb; the start of ObamaCare;
President Obama’s re-election over some statist Republican flunky and Wayne
Allyn Schmuck; Olympics hype; and the inability of tourists to visit
the Yucatan Peninsula to get away from all of the above because the locals
are too spooked about the end of the world to book reservations. And it
would star John Cusack (“I graduated high school for this?”) and
feature a wall-to-wall pop soundtrack that teen-age girls like.53
However, I did finally see the movie “2010,” on YouTube, 26 years
after I ignored its theatrical release. Naturally, the 2010 as imagined
in 1984 is considerably off. Watching it, I came up with a superior film
premise: "2010: The Jupiter Connection." Roy Scheider is narcotics agent
Jacky Falcone, who uncovers a Soviet-run drug network operating near Jupiter,
partly to distribute drugs and undermine America under the guise of alien
visitors, and partly because commies don’t understand the economics of matters
like supply chain management or overhead costs. They could’ve used the airport
at Mena, Ark., if they were smarter. Falcone fakes a public break with
his agency, writes a couple of exposés, and enters the seedy world
of anti-American, pro-Soviet publications in New York City. Falcone pitches
his own investigation as a story debunking said Soviet project as CIA propaganda
to Nation editor Alexander Cockburn (Richard Harris), which gets him entrée
to the Soviet space program, infiltrated by Air Force Capt. Joe Kuykendall
(Jan-Michael Vincent), and ultimately, the drug-lab spacecraft orbiting
Jupiter overseen by KGB Col. Rudolph Nicolevich Kiersky (Dolph Lundgren).
Also aboard the spacecraft is drug kingpin Ernesto Armendariz (Paul Calderon),
motivated by money and disillusioned by his Soviet partners, their attitudes,
and the working conditions in space. Coincidentally, Falcone busted Armendariz
years ago, when he was smaller fry in the illegal drug trade. Through a high-ranking,
pro-détente faction within the American establishment, the Soviets
uncover Falcone and Kuykendall’s real identities. In exchange for immunity,
Armendariz and his drug crew side with Falcone and Kuykendall as they
best the Soviets, out of their minds on drugs and vodka. The outer space
suspense climaxes as Falcone chases Kiersky into an airlock, snears, “From
my ability to what you need,” and flushes the villain out the airlock
toward the volcanic wastes of Io. Kuykendall maneuvers the Soviet spacecraft
back to Earth, where they dodge Soviet laser-armed attack satellites in
Earth orbit, missiles during re-entry, and MiGs during splashdown. Meanwhile,
despite the best efforts of the vice president (Donald Moffett) and the
pro-détente globalist business interests he fronts for (Robert Vaughan,
Martin Balsam), Falcone’s story has leaked and attracted the media, plus
the interest of the president (Glenn Ford) and the U.S. military. A Pacific-based
carrier group finds Falcone and Armendariz, thwarts the MiGs, and brings
the plucky team aboard the carrier to a triumphant and nationalist freeze-frame
On Jan. 27, I attended the world premiere of “Viva the ‘Nam,” a feature-length
Vietnam War flick using stop-motion action figures in someone’s garage.
Well worth seeing – if you can.55
Obama attended the Kennedy Center honors awarding Robert De Niro.
In other words, Obama honored an actor most famous for playing a would-be
presidential assassin, and a thug paid to beat on blacks.56
Maybe Obama is more irony-deficient than I credited someone of our generation,
and thus politically tone deaf.57
The Austin American-Statesman redesigned its Web site. This means
I spend even less time reading its content. Another such redesign and I’ll
cease reading it altogether. The Statesman also seems to have clamped down
on the comments with each article, which were increasingly pointing out
the flaws in the reporting and often better than the original story. Local
FM stations are dropping Spanish-language formats for sports and news
talk. In English.58
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