Engage the flux capacitor! Fire photon torpedos! Shift into third!
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Beer Saves The Day Again!
Howdy. You find me at the end of a long day. I flew just under 7 hours today for my first full day since arriving in Athens. The scenery down here is really pretty cool. The Appalachian Mountains distort the horizon to the North, and a large teal lake surrounded by forests and golf courses dominates the landscape below. If I had to pick an area to orbit for seven solid hours a day based on scenery, this would at least be a finalist. Other perks to this location include the fact that I’m not in any complex airspace, so I don’t have to be talking to any controllers. The ability to listen to my music as loud as I want without the fear of missing a traffic call improves the day markedly. It’s also a more serene setting than downtown Fort Worth to drop the drawers and urinate in a Gatorade bottle, for whatever that’s worth. Have I mentioned that I’m the Half-Naked King of The World?
I was sort of a zombie today due to my going out and listening to music last night at “Tasty World.” At 9:40, I was already worn out. I rationalized that I wouldn’t stay out too late and that the mile walk would do me good. I should have been in bed.
The first band billed themselves as “New wave power-pop silk-pajama-wearing magnificent smirking bastards.” “The Shut Ups” played synth-heavy, funk-disco-rock and the keyboard player/lead singer couldn’t have been more over the top. He reminded me of Jon Lovitz’s character in “The Wedding Singer.”
“Good luck finding a DJ who can move and shake like this!”
He had the same unjustified cockiness. He ate a sandwich on stage. He made like a choir director cutting off the applause after a song. He even looked a little like Mr. Lovitz. Maybe it was the silk pajamas.
By the time the second band, “Funkle Ester,” got on stage, I had already destroyed my self promise to get back early and get to bed. I only listened/danced to a couple of their 70’s disco covers before heading out. Bed time? Oh no. Time to satisfy the impulsive, late night, alcohol induced craving for a western omelet. I’ve always loved the atmosphere of a late night, college town diner on a weekend night and “The Grill” didn’t disappoint. My waitress was an art school grad with shiny blue hair and an equally shiny personality.
As I finally made my way back to the hotel, I noticed a lot of cars in a parking lot with no apparent venue. The store fronts were dark. No bar noise emanated from the building. I looked behind the strip-mall-esque building as I came to the cross street, and the back parking lot was packed as well. I decided to take the side street just to see what was back there. I was mildly creeped out by the verbal altercation taking place at the door to the hidden bar and by the police cars hovering about, so I looked and walked straight ahead. Maybe this whole “side street in the middle of the night in an unfamiliar town” wasn’t such a hot idea.
As I turned down the next block toward the hotel, I saw a body sprawled out on a storm drain at the side of the road. The old black man was clearly unconscious. I didn’t look too closely, though, as I passed. I considered trying to rouse him, but decided against it out of concern for my personal safety. That was my excuse anyway.
It was cold last night. I thought about my Great Aunt Ruth, such a beautiful soul, who last winter, in a state of confusion, left her nursing home in the middle of the night and succumbed to exposure at the side of a road. No one deserves to die like that.
I had the hotel desk clerk call the police and went out to make sure they found the man. I know. I'm such a great citizen. Hey, being the Half-Naked King of the World has its responsibilities. I'm still wondering about all of the “bad” decisions I’d made that led me to that side street at two in the morning. I should have been in bed.
I was sort of a zombie today due to my going out and listening to music last night at “Tasty World.” At 9:40, I was already worn out. I rationalized that I wouldn’t stay out too late and that the mile walk would do me good. I should have been in bed.
The first band billed themselves as “New wave power-pop silk-pajama-wearing magnificent smirking bastards.” “The Shut Ups” played synth-heavy, funk-disco-rock and the keyboard player/lead singer couldn’t have been more over the top. He reminded me of Jon Lovitz’s character in “The Wedding Singer.”
“Good luck finding a DJ who can move and shake like this!”
He had the same unjustified cockiness. He ate a sandwich on stage. He made like a choir director cutting off the applause after a song. He even looked a little like Mr. Lovitz. Maybe it was the silk pajamas.
By the time the second band, “Funkle Ester,” got on stage, I had already destroyed my self promise to get back early and get to bed. I only listened/danced to a couple of their 70’s disco covers before heading out. Bed time? Oh no. Time to satisfy the impulsive, late night, alcohol induced craving for a western omelet. I’ve always loved the atmosphere of a late night, college town diner on a weekend night and “The Grill” didn’t disappoint. My waitress was an art school grad with shiny blue hair and an equally shiny personality.
As I finally made my way back to the hotel, I noticed a lot of cars in a parking lot with no apparent venue. The store fronts were dark. No bar noise emanated from the building. I looked behind the strip-mall-esque building as I came to the cross street, and the back parking lot was packed as well. I decided to take the side street just to see what was back there. I was mildly creeped out by the verbal altercation taking place at the door to the hidden bar and by the police cars hovering about, so I looked and walked straight ahead. Maybe this whole “side street in the middle of the night in an unfamiliar town” wasn’t such a hot idea.
As I turned down the next block toward the hotel, I saw a body sprawled out on a storm drain at the side of the road. The old black man was clearly unconscious. I didn’t look too closely, though, as I passed. I considered trying to rouse him, but decided against it out of concern for my personal safety. That was my excuse anyway.
It was cold last night. I thought about my Great Aunt Ruth, such a beautiful soul, who last winter, in a state of confusion, left her nursing home in the middle of the night and succumbed to exposure at the side of a road. No one deserves to die like that.
I had the hotel desk clerk call the police and went out to make sure they found the man. I know. I'm such a great citizen. Hey, being the Half-Naked King of the World has its responsibilities. I'm still wondering about all of the “bad” decisions I’d made that led me to that side street at two in the morning. I should have been in bed.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Just like "Wilson" the Volleyball...
Howdy. How’s everybody doin’ this evening? Good. Greetings from Athens, Georgia. I left Fort Worth Tuesday morning and shot an ILS into Athens about seven flight hours later. Memorable moments on the flight included a bright orange conflagration of the Appalachian Mountains caused by the setting sun behind me. A radio call from Steve, the pilot who I replaced, was also a pleasant surprise. He was flying cargo in a Baron when he heard his old tail number. Shooting the ILS in Athens down to 500 feet at night was good fun too.
It sort of sucked to leave. I really felt like I had a family in Fort Worth. I can’t express how grateful I am to Erin and Ryan (for putting up with my appropriation of the angel room), to Patrick and Tina (for introducing me to Babe’s Chicken and Rob Lumbard), to Tiffany (for introducing me to “Amelie”-one of my new favorite movies), to Shaina (for reminding me how much fun it is to roll one’s self down a grassy hill), to Rhonda (for the couch and the writing advice), to Chris and Jaimee Harris aka “Better Off Dad” (for being supportive of my playing and letting me crash their shows), to Josh and Maria (for the de facto intro to philosophy… check out www.contenttrucker.blogspot.com), and to Badger, Carma, Jason, Chris, and Snowflake (for making Panther City such a great temporary home- I hereby vow to use my “Close Friend of the Owner 10% discount card” again someday…).
I hope I didn’t miss anyone. Everyone down there was great. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand this job if I make such strong connections in every new town as I did in Fort Worth. I don’t think that’s probable though.
That said, I think I could really enjoy Athens. The University of Georgia is here, and the requisite “bar/coffee/music/book” district here has a great atmosphere. The first night I was here, I happened upon an open mic night at “Whisky Dick’s.” After listening to some talented local musicians, I borrowed a guitar and played a couple songs. Good times. One guy gave me a list of places that had open mic nights. I could play different places Monday through Thursday. Been feelin’ kinda crummy today, though. Maybe I’ll do that next week if I’m still here.
There is free wi-fi throughout the downtown area. It seems like the local business organization supports it as a draw for business and also as a way to get people to check out local events and activities on their bulletin board. I think it’s a great idea. More places should consider doing something like it. Check it out.
http://athenscloud.nmi.uga.edu/athens/inside.php
I did a little exploring this afternoon; resisted the temptation to buy a Pee –Wee Herman ventriloquist doll at a comic book/record store. Just think of the fun a person could have! I could use the box he came in as a tip receptacle for when “he” makes fun of passers by on the street. He’d be a great co-pilot/scapegoat. “Roger, I’ll have Pee-Wee recycle that transponder and squawk 4635…” There’s still time.
It sort of sucked to leave. I really felt like I had a family in Fort Worth. I can’t express how grateful I am to Erin and Ryan (for putting up with my appropriation of the angel room), to Patrick and Tina (for introducing me to Babe’s Chicken and Rob Lumbard), to Tiffany (for introducing me to “Amelie”-one of my new favorite movies), to Shaina (for reminding me how much fun it is to roll one’s self down a grassy hill), to Rhonda (for the couch and the writing advice), to Chris and Jaimee Harris aka “Better Off Dad” (for being supportive of my playing and letting me crash their shows), to Josh and Maria (for the de facto intro to philosophy… check out www.contenttrucker.blogspot.com), and to Badger, Carma, Jason, Chris, and Snowflake (for making Panther City such a great temporary home- I hereby vow to use my “Close Friend of the Owner 10% discount card” again someday…).
I hope I didn’t miss anyone. Everyone down there was great. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand this job if I make such strong connections in every new town as I did in Fort Worth. I don’t think that’s probable though.
That said, I think I could really enjoy Athens. The University of Georgia is here, and the requisite “bar/coffee/music/book” district here has a great atmosphere. The first night I was here, I happened upon an open mic night at “Whisky Dick’s.” After listening to some talented local musicians, I borrowed a guitar and played a couple songs. Good times. One guy gave me a list of places that had open mic nights. I could play different places Monday through Thursday. Been feelin’ kinda crummy today, though. Maybe I’ll do that next week if I’m still here.
There is free wi-fi throughout the downtown area. It seems like the local business organization supports it as a draw for business and also as a way to get people to check out local events and activities on their bulletin board. I think it’s a great idea. More places should consider doing something like it. Check it out.
http://athenscloud.nmi.uga.edu/athens/inside.php
I did a little exploring this afternoon; resisted the temptation to buy a Pee –Wee Herman ventriloquist doll at a comic book/record store. Just think of the fun a person could have! I could use the box he came in as a tip receptacle for when “he” makes fun of passers by on the street. He’d be a great co-pilot/scapegoat. “Roger, I’ll have Pee-Wee recycle that transponder and squawk 4635…” There’s still time.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
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